Windflowers

by Tamara McKinley

  Snapping from her thoughts she realised she’d already wasted enough time on Claire, and her sister was perfectly capable of standing up for herself. This enforced home-coming might clear the air a little, but Leanne had become used to having her parents undivided attention and hoped Claire would keep her visit short.

  Leanne opened the bottom drawer of her dresser and pulled out the roll of drawings which she carried back into the kitchen. With them spread over the table and held down by saucepans, she leaned on her elbows and looked at the future – a future she didn’t dare reveal to her parents or Angel until Jarrah was truly her own. A dream she’d nurtured ever since she’d come to realise she and Jarrah were made for each other.

  The jarring ring of the telephone broke her concentration and she snatched it up. ‘Jarrah Downs,’ she said sharply.

  ‘This is Angel.’ He pronounced it the Spanish way with a soft ‘g’ despite the fact he was second generation Argentine-Australian.

  Leanne felt her knees go as the warm, honeyed voice poured into her ear. Angel Carrera was the best looking man alive and she still couldn’t believe he was her husband. She sat down and nestled the receiver to her ear. ‘G’day, Angel.’ Her voice was husky with desire. ‘What can I do for you?’

  ‘There are many things,’ he purred down the line. ‘Getting you into bed for one. But unfortunately for now I have to be practical.’ His tone became business-like. ‘Have they finished the muster yet, Leanne? I need to check the stock before they’re trucked to Brisbane and my schedule’s getting very full.’

  ‘Lucky stock,’ she said dreamily. Leanne closed her eyes and wished he had the time to put her on his schedule. He’d been gone for almost two weeks and she was in need of being checked over herself. ‘They’re not back yet but I expect them any day. Mum’s already arranged for our company trucks to be on stand-by at the end of next week.’

  ‘I’ll pencil you in for next Wednesday then.’

  His voice was mesmerising, the hidden agenda behind the words all too clear and Leanne gave a tremulous sigh. ‘Can’t you make it any sooner?’ She murmured.

  His soft groan came down the line. ‘I would my love, but you know how it is at this time of year. Everyone wants to get their stock to market.’

  ‘How’s it going over there in Cloncurry?’ She didn’t really care, she just wanted to keep him talking so she could hear his voice. It had been lonely without him.

  ‘Good,’ he said, distracted somewhat by the interruption of a colleague. ‘Must go. Got a thousand things to do. Catch you later.’

  The line went dead and Leanne slowly replaced the receiver. Angel Carrera had olive skin and black, black eyes that seemed to smoulder right through her. He was thirty – but what did a seven year age gap matter when he was her perfect man? From the moment they had met the fireworks began. Passionate and opinionated their personalities clashed at every turn, but their fiery relationship sparked so hotly they couldn’t bear to be parted.

  Leanne sighed as she rolled up the plans and returned them to their hiding place. Perfect he might be, but his work meant he was away from her at long stretches of time, and although she trusted him, she wondered how many other women found him irresistible. Wondered if he’d ever been tempted by women prettier than her.

  Her thoughts in turmoil, she decided to leave the accounts until tonight. What she needed to do now was go for a long ride and use up some of her excess energy. It was Sunday. She had two days and three nights to prepare for his home-coming. For like Jarrah Downs, Angel Carrera belonged to her and she had no intentions of losing him.

  *

  Ellie was sick of her own company. It had been almost two weeks since the men had left for the annual muster and she was going stir crazy. The house was cleaner than ever, the windows polished, screens re-meshed, even the verandah railings repaired. She’d been meaning to do that particular job for ages and had finally decided it was no good waiting any longer. After her usual chores of mucking out stables, feeding chooks and pigs and checking over the new litter of puppies in the kennels, she’d spent the previous day oiling the saddles and harness in the tack room and cleaning the horse brasses they used for the dray when they went to shows. Yet she remained uneasy, her thoughts always returning to Claire’s imminent arrival and the effect it would have on them all.

  With the morning chores over, she climbed the steps and slammed through the screen door. The last of Claire’s infrequent letters was on the kitchen table. She knew what it said for she’d read it a dozen times – but it was the things Claire hadn’t said that bothered her the most. The letter was polite and distant, with a maturity and forthright approach to her enforced home-coming that heralded trouble for all of them.

  Ellie sat down in the battered chair and stared at the blackened beam above the new oven. ‘What the hell am I going to do?’ she murmured. She didn’t know how long she’d sat there, but as the mellow chime of the grandfather clock in the hall brought her back to the present, she realised she couldn’t face this alone. She would have to go to the main homestead and speak to Aurelia.

  Having showered and changed into a cotton dress, Ellie brushed her thick brown hair and left it loose to swing above her shoulders. She’d soon have to start colouring it, she thought as she spotted yet another lurking grey hair. But what the hell? There were far more important things to think about than grey hair and another birthday. She added a dash of defiant red lipstick, a spray of perfume, picked up her bag and slipped her feet into sandals. With sunglasses perched on her nose and a floppy hat rammed on her head she ran down the steps into the yard.

  Having told the mechanic where she was going, she drove the utility out from behind the tool shed, checked it had enough petrol and headed towards the first of the five gates that separated the two Warratah homesteads. Aurelia had instigated this home-coming, it was only fair she should share the burden. And this wouldn’t be the first time she’d helped Ellie out of a tight situation.

  *

  The young Ellie felt at odds with life on Warratah, for despite the warm reception from Aurelia and the burgeoning friendship with the two boys, she remained uneasy in her mother’s company. Aurelia had been kindness itself, despite her gruff manner and over-bearing heartiness and had quickly cleared her younger sister out of the only spare room and made it more welcoming for Ellie. Yet there were only two ways of avoiding her mother – hiding in this bedroom, or spending hours with Charlie and Joe out on the plains as they repaired fences and cleared carcasses from the billabongs. She usually chose the latter, but the drought had killed a great many of Aurelia’s cattle, and the sight of crows pecking and flapping over the bodies made her feel ill. The nightmares were all too frequent, the reminder of the crows circling above her dead father still too raw.

  She had returned from her latest trip with the boys the night before, now she sat on the patchwork quilt and leaned against the iron bed-head as she studied the brass fittings. There was just too much to contend with, she thought wearily. She’d answered all the questions Alicia had fired at her, born the brunt of her histrionics and stood up for dad when the sniping got too much. With the nightmares plaguing her after the long days in the saddle and the endless arguments she was exhausted.

  There had been little time to mourn dad. Even less to take in everything that had happened since they had first been abandoned by Alicia in Sydney. It was as if time had lost all meaning. The last few years merely moments she’d dreamed about, lost in the void of grinding poverty and the weary miles they’d traipsed to get here.

  She turned towards the window and climbed on the wide ledge Aurelia had covered in thick, squashy cushions. It gave her a perfect view of the yard and she could see the boys emerge from the bunkhouse, chatting to the other men as they crossed to the cookhouse. Smoke rose from the chimney and she knew the high rafters would soon be ringing with the sound of boot heels, clashing crockery and men’s voices. The earthy smell of horses and cattle would intertwine with the heady
scent of frying steak and eggs and the heat would have the windows running with condensation.

  Her gaze trawled home yard, across the cattle pens to the carpenter’s shed, past the tack room and forge to the tool shed and grain store. A flock of pink breasted gallahs swooped from their perch in the pepper trees and soared in a glorious cloud above the paddock where the stock horses cropped beneath wilting gums. Kookaburras chortled and the rolling pipe of the magpies down by the creek was the sweetest sound she’d ever heard.

  Ellie turned from the window and sighed. This home was in such contrast to the ones she’d had over the past five years that she felt out of place – adrift amongst unfamiliar surroundings despite her aunt’s kindness and the splendour of it all.

  The Domain had come as a shock after the pleasant house in Surrey Hills with its small back garden and neat facade. The makeshift tents and humpies were rife with rats, the lack of food and decent clothing something she’d had to take in her stride along with the stench and grime of poverty. Dad had tried his best, but she’d known he was out of his depth and giving in to despair. Ellie had quickly become streetwise. She learned to steal from unwary shopkeepers and rummage in the bins behind the fancy restaurants that were still open in the city centre. They had survived on hand-outs and soup kitchens, sharing lice-ridden blankets in the Salvation Army hostels, garnering warmth from the hundreds of bodies pressed tightly together on bare floorboards when the winter took hold.

  Life on the road after that had been far more pleasant despite the constant hunger. And even though they’d often slept in ditches and in the hollow boles of trees, they had finally felt in charge of their destiny as they’d headed for Warratah. Life might have been tough, their surroundings harsh, but it had brought them closer than ever – their reliance on one another forging a tight bond.

  Ellie smeared back the tears as she rested her cheek against the cool window pane. Dad had found a pride in himself again as he learned to ride and to work alongside the tough men who lived out here. He’d come to terms with losing everything and was starting to look forward to coming here and beginning again. Fate was cruel.

  She sniffed and looked out of the window again. Clipper was growing fat and sleek and the old grey seemed to have taken on a new lease of life now he didn’t have to work any more. If only she could feel as settled, she thought sadly. If only I didn’t feel trapped between mum and Aunt Aurelia – if only I didn’t miss dad so much.

  A sharp rap on the door was followed swiftly by Alicia. ‘So this is where you’re hiding,’ she said brightly. ‘I thought it was time you got out of those disgraceful old dungarees and tried being mummy’s little girl again.’ She deposited a pile of frothy dresses on the bed. ‘I wasn’t sure what size you were, so I brought a selection with me from New York.’

  Ellie eyed the frills and ribbons, the white collars and daisy prints with disinterest. ‘I’m nearly fourteen,’ she said coldly. ‘They’re meant for kids.’

  Alicia made the bed dip as she perched on the counterpane and lit a cigarette. ‘You can’t dress like that for ever,’ she said firmly. ‘It’s time you forgot your life on the road and looked to the future.’ She blew a stream of smoke to the ceiling as she patted her peroxided hair. ‘A future where you’ll wear dresses and go to parties, not muck about in the stables with ignorant natives and sleep out in fields with itinerant drovers.’

  Ellie looked at the chiselled features and marvelled that she felt nothing for this woman. There had been a time when she’d cried herself to sleep wanting her mother, needing her there in the long, lonely nights following her abrupt departure. Yet Alicia had never materialised, and as the months turned into years, the memory of her had faded and now she was a stranger. ‘Not much chance of parties out here,’ she said finally. ‘This lot would only go to waste.’

  ‘That’s what I’ve come to talk to you about,’ said Alicia who appeared unfazed at Ellie’s abrupt manner. ‘We aren’t staying. I’ve made arrangements for Jack Withers to fly us up to Darwin on his mail plane.’

  ‘Darwin?’ Ellie’s heart hammered as fear swept through her. ‘What’s in Darwin?’

  ‘A way out of this godforsaken place,’ said Alicia with feeling. ‘I’ve booked us on a ship to England.’

  Ellie slid off the window-seat and stood before her. ‘I don’t want to go to England,’ she said firmly. ‘I belong here.’

  It was as if Alicia hadn’t heard. ‘We’ll stay with your grandparents for a while; there’s a very good school down in Sussex where they can knock that ghastly colonial whine from your accent.’ She finished her cigarette and with blatant disregard for the geraniums, stubbed it out in a flower pot. ‘You’ll soon forget all this nonsense, and wonder why you ever wanted to stay here. And if you’re a good girl, I’ll even buy you a pony.’

  Ellie balled her fists. The temptation to slap that cold, over made-up face so great she was almost vibrating. ‘I’m not going to England. I’m not going to some fancy school. And I’m not changing the way I talk,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘As for bribing me, you can save your money. I got a pony already.’

  Alicia gave one of her tinkling laughs that made Ellie shudder. ‘I’d hardly call that bag of bones a pony, darling,’ she drawled. ‘More suitable for the glue factory. Wait until you see the Arabians my father has at stud – you’ll soon change your mind.’

  Ellie’s rage was electric, freezing her to the floor, making it impossible to find the right words to express her loathing and her fear. And she was fearful, for her mother seemed determined and although she was soon to be fourteen – in the eyes of the law she was still only a kid. A kid with no voice. A kid whose future was held in an adult’s hand. ‘I won’t go,’ she said with icy determination. ‘You can’t make me.’

  Alicia stood and smoothed her skirt. ‘I can and will,’ she said calmly. ‘It’s time you had a decent education and learned some manners. Your father meant well, but he had no idea of how to raise a daughter and it’s my duty to put things right.’

  ‘Don’t you dare blame Dad,’ Ellie snarled. ‘He done what he thought best, and I bet he never thought of it as a duty.’ She took a trembling breath. ‘You can stick your fancy school and your bloody horses. I ain’t going.’

  ‘That’s enough,’ Alicia said coldly. ‘I will not have this rudeness.’

  Ellie put her hands on her hips. ‘I’ll speak to you any way I like,’ she retorted. ‘You shot through and left me and Dad so you could marry your Texan. You never cared what happened to either of us – so why should I do what you want just because you’re divorced and on the lookout for another sucker? I’m not leaving here. I don’t want you. I don’t love you. And you’re the last person on earth to tell me what to bloody do.’

  She was trembling as she gathered up the dresses and flung them to the floor. ‘And you can take those and give them to someone else,’ she stormed.

  ‘You ungrateful guttersnipe,’ spat Alicia. ‘How dare you.’ The slap came from nowhere, cracking against Ellie’s cheek, stunning her to silence. ‘You’re coming to England and that’s final. A dose of boarding school will hopefully teach you some manners, and if that doesn’t work a touch of the strap might not come amiss.’ Alicia’s tone was as cold as her blue eyes.

  ‘I can hear you in the yard,’ said the calm voice from the doorway. ‘Are you bullying that child again, Alicia?’

  ‘Get out, Aurelia. This has nothing to do with you,’ snapped Alicia.

  Aurelia moved into the room and eyed the situation. ‘I think it does,’ she said calmly. ‘You’ve upset my niece, and I don’t agree with hitting her just because she doesn’t see things as you do. This is a peaceful place, and I aim to keep it that way, so I suggest you clear off and cool down.’

  Ellie was trembling with rage. She could still feel the sting of Alicia’s slap, but it only confirmed her dislike for the woman who insisted upon calling herself ‘mother’.

  ‘Mind your own damn business, Aurelia.’ Alicia
scooped up the discarded clothes. ‘She’s my child and I’ll deal with her in any way I want.’

  ‘Not in my house,’ Aurelia fired back.

  The demeanour was calm again, the face a mask beneath the make-up. ‘We won’t be bothering you for much longer,’ she said coldly. ‘Jack’s flying us up to Darwin the day after tomorrow. The boat leaves for England next week.’

  ‘You’re more of a fool than I thought,’ snapped Aurelia. ‘Haven’t you read the papers or taken in any of the Home Service broadcasts? There’s civil war in Europe.’

  ‘Rubbish,’ said Alicia as she folded the dresses. ‘It’s Spain in uproar, not Berkshire.’

  ‘Spain won’t be the last of it,’ warned Aurelia. ‘Mark my words Alicia. If you insist upon disregarding Ellie’s wishes I’ll get a court order to stop you.’

  ‘I’d like to see you try,’ she sneered. ‘Where are you going to get a lawyer out here?’

  ‘At the end of a telephone line.’ Aurelia folded her arms and returned glare for glare.

  ‘No lawyer worth his salt would give you custody over me. I’m her mother.’

  ‘You lost the right to call yourself that a long time ago,’ said Aurelia firmly. ‘Have you stopped to think what Ellie wants? Or is your ego so vast it hasn’t occurred to you she might be happier without you?

  Ellie was mesmerised as they towered over her, deep in their own conflict. She felt her spirits lighten as Aurelia fought her corner – at last she had a voice.

  *

  Ellie’s thoughts returned to the present as she brought the utility to a halt and climbed out to shut the final gate. The old homestead that had stood on Warratah for almost a century was now in sight, and as she stood there in the sibilant heat she gazed at the sway-backed roof and the cascade of white Jarrah blossom that threatened to smother it. She was almost the same age as Aurelia was when they’d first met. Yet those long ago days were suddenly not so far away, and it was as if she was replaying those childhood scenes – scenes that were to change her life for ever.