‘It’s nearly five thirty!’ she exclaimed.
‘Time flies when you’re having fun.’ Adam topped up his wineglass and reached for Lucy’s.
‘Oh, no thanks.’ She covered it with her hand. ‘I’ve had more than enough. It’s been an amazing afternoon, Adam.’
‘For me too. And now I know a bit about the “mystery guvvie”. Aren’t I the lucky fella?’
‘There’s nothing mysterious about me.’ Lucy laughed.
‘You don’t reckon?’ Adam sat up in mock surprise. ‘You’ve caused a fair bit of speculation among the locals. Especially the blokes.’
‘Speculation?’ Lucy repeated.
‘All the ringers are a little bit scared of you.’
‘Scared? I don’t believe that.’
‘In awe of you, then. I’ve even heard talk of you in Ingham.’
‘That’s ridiculous.’ Lucy laughed again, looking at Adam sceptically. ‘People mustn’t have enough to talk about if they find me fascinating.’
‘I dunno.’ Adam cocked his head and looked into Lucy’s eyes. ‘I think after today I’m beginning to see where they’re coming from.’
Lucy felt suddenly uncomfortable. ‘Well, I just hope the Wests are happy with me. That’s the most important thing.’
‘Match made in heaven, wouldn’t you say?’ Adam smirked.
‘Who?’ Lucy said in alarm.
‘Relax, little Luce. Mel and Westy. True love, eh?’ He chuckled derisively. ‘So, fill me in on the latest with those two. Must be even worse behind the scenes.’
Lucy stiffened slightly. ‘I’m sure things would be a lot easier for them if they weren’t under so much pressure,’ she said.
Adam looked mildly surprised. He had clearly expected her to relish the opportunity to complain about the Wests. ‘Thought you would’ve had a gutful of those two by now. Especially Mel.’
‘Well, they’re obviously going through a rough patch,’ Lucy said reluctantly. She paused, confused; Adam had appeared to be so friendly with Mel on the day of the Hill paddock muster. ‘You know Mel pretty well, don’t you?’
‘Yeah, well, she’d like to think so, anyway.’ Adam sniggered again. ‘I liven things up a bit for the old girl, I guess you could say. She’s not such a hag when I’m around.’ He winked. ‘Poor bitch is like putty in my hands. Doesn’t have much else to spice up her life, and it’s a bit of fun for me, so everyone’s happy!’
Lucy’s outrage must have shown on her face, because Adam began to backpedal swiftly. ‘C’mon, Lucy, no harm in a bit of flirting.’
Lucy stayed silent, and Adam went on, ‘Trust me, there’s nothing in it whatsoever, and she knows it. Believe it or not, those two are still in love with each other, as much as they try to make out otherwise.’
‘I’m glad you think so,’ Lucy answered quietly.
With the alacrity of an experienced charmer, Adam steered the conversation towards what Lucy suspected he knew would be safer territory with a city girl who’d come bush. A topic sure to delight. ‘You had much to do with horses, Lucy?’
‘No, but I love them,’ she said, relaxing a little.
‘I hear you’re half handy in the saddle already?’
Again Lucy suspected it was a lucky guess; nonetheless, she couldn’t help grinning with pleasure. ‘Oh, I’m not very good yet, but I have helped with one muster and I’m hoping to get much better. Ted’s been letting me do the weaners on horseback in the afternoons.’
‘Letting you?’ Adam’s voice was scornful.
‘Shep helps,’ Lucy added defensively.
‘Flipper’s glad to get out of a job, more likely.’ Adam snorted. ‘You wanna watch that bloke, Lucy. According to Bri and Tash, he’s creepy. Looking all the time with those dull cat eyes and saying nothing.’
‘Well, Ted has been great to me.’ Lucy surprised herself with the heat of her indignation. ‘I find him anything but creepy! “Honest” would be a better description. He doesn’t say a lot, that’s true, but that’s better than waffling on with a whole lot of rubbish like some of the other ringers.’
Adam raised his eyebrows in an exaggerated expression of wonderment, and exhaled with a whistle. ‘Hell . . . I’ll have to tell Tash that you and Goldy are on together—so she can stop worrying about him doing a line for her.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ Lucy glared.
Adam grinned. ‘You’re even cuter when you’re stirred up, little Luce. Old Flipper would be stoked. But I’m bloody relieved to hear you two aren’t an item.’ He flashed her his most winning smile. ‘You had me worried there for a bit.’
‘Is there anyone on Charlotte’s Creek who escapes your criticism, Adam?’ Lucy asked, rather tartly.
‘Well, you, of course.’ He bowed his head deferentially to her.
‘But they’re not a bad lot. As you said before, the pressure’s just got to them. Not really their fault, what with old Ma and Pa West still hanging on tight to the reins and keeping everyone in the dark.’
‘You seem to know a lot about all this.’
‘Yep. Same thing happened to my folks when they were young. My dad’s old man had a big cattle place west of Cairns, but Dad got out before I was born. Told his folks to stick it when they clashed with Mum.’
‘What happened then?’ Lucy asked, intrigued.
‘Well, Mum grew up just outside of Ingham, so they moved back here and went into cane.’
‘Cane?’
‘Sugar. Contracting at first, and then got a place of their own. Expanded from there when cane prices went through the roof.’
‘Good for them,’ Lucy commented. ‘Sounds like they’re a brave couple.’
‘Brave?’ Adam shrugged. ‘Dad just knows when he’s wasting his time. Mum’s not one to mess with, either. She told me once, daughters-in-law like her are always the head on the pimple.’ He chuckled, but Lucy’s eyes opened wide. Maybe Mel’s predicament was not as unusual as she’d first imagined. Things were falling into place. Adam reclined back onto his elbow and looked with satisfaction at Lucy’s concerned expression. She suddenly noticed how much he was enjoying himself.
‘So what about you, Adam?’ she asked boldly. ‘Why aren’t you working for your parents?’
‘Now that’s another story. I’m a bit of a handful, see.’ He grinned wickedly. ‘Spoiled only son with three older sisters. We all boarded at snob schools in Brisbane. Left home at twelve really.’
‘Didn’t you go back?’
‘I did an ag science degree at uni first. Came home after that knowing a bit too much. Had one too many blues with Dad. He doesn’t understand that a healthy lad needs a social life as well as work.’ Adam laughed derisively. ‘So then I joined the defence force, got my chopper ticket and eventually came back home again, only to find that I still hated his guts.’
‘Oh!’ Lucy exclaimed.
‘Started up this aerial mustering gig for a bit of fun. But I’ve got the Midas touch, just like my old man. This has turned into a bloody good business.’ He waved lazily towards the helicopter. ‘Pays well and I can choose my own hours.’
‘What a shame about your home place, though,’ Lucy said tentatively.
‘It’ll be right.’ Adam smiled. ‘Mum’s Italian and Dad’s half. Sons are everything. When I’ve had enough of this lark, I’ll head back and take over. Dad’s health isn’t the best, but I’ll let them sweat on it a bit longer. They’ll welcome me with open arms when I decide to show up.’
Lucy shook her head. ‘I’m beginning to understand why things can turn so ugly in farming families.’
‘Yep,’ Adam agreed. ‘People are living longer. Kids have more options, people know their rights. Some of these places have been split one too many times—with each new generation. To split them again would condemn them to hobby-farming status. The only really fair way is to sell up and split the dough. And China, India, Indonesia, and God knows who else are more than happy to buy up big, anything we’ve got to offer. And as long as t
hey cough up the cash, no one asks any questions.’
‘Something has to be done!’ Lucy said, alarmed.
Adam shrugged. ‘They’re the only players who can afford these big places nowadays, and no one else wants to invest in agriculture.’
‘But what about food security?’ Lucy cried. ‘What could be more important to a country than agriculture?’
‘Settle down, Lucy.’ Adam leaned forward and grinned. ‘Better get used to the idea, ’cause old Noel and Gwen will be sure to sell up soon, you just watch.’
‘I can’t believe they would part with Charlotte’s Creek,’ Lucy said firmly. ‘After the amount of work they’ve all put into the place.’
Adam chuckled. ‘All right . . . I promise I won’t say “I told you so” when it happens.’
Deeply troubled by what she’d heard, Lucy gazed silently off into the distance towards Charlotte’s Creek.
Adam interrupted her contemplation. ‘Hey, Lucy, the last thing I wanted to do was upset you. We’re getting a bit too serious. Let’s not put a dampener on this beautiful evening. Hell, you brainy girls are hard work!’
Turning her thoughts away from the Wests, Lucy laughed, and they chatted on for a while longer, being careful to stick to more trivial matters.
Despite the novelty of the evening away from the station, as Lucy climbed aboard the helicopter the pleasure of the experience was tainted by a feeling of disappointment. It was the regret that always came to her when a person she’d met and liked suddenly fell in her estimation.
However, as she gazed down on the darkening world below the ascending chopper, she was again inspired with awe. The geography of the landscape was more apparent in the diminishing light, as the shadows and shades of evening added depth to the expanse. Lucy was overcome with awareness of her own insignificance, just as she’d felt when witnessing the flash flood. Recalling that occasion, she remembered the glimmer in Ted’s eyes, like smouldering coals, as the torrent had passed by below. Adam was so very wrong to call those tawny eyes dull. Wary and guarded, perhaps, but far from dull.
‘Thank you, Adam, that was an exciting trip,’ she said, with genuine gratitude, after they’d landed back at Charlotte’s Creek.
‘Exciting for me too, Lucy,’ Adam said meaningfully. ‘What do you say we do it again soon?’ He searched her face. ‘Another mystery flight? Pick up where we left off, eh? Maybe a local hotspot . . . I reckon I know just the place.’
Lucy took an involuntary step backwards. Her mind raced as she tried to think of a polite way to discourage him without hurting his feelings. But her hesitation didn’t seem to concern him at all.
‘No need to look so worried!’ he said, ‘You’re safe with me!’ Then kissing her hand as he’d done before, and beaming gallantly, he departed.
Lucy watched the chopper until it was no more than a black speck in the rosy winter sky. Then, feeling strangely weighed down, she turned and headed to the safety of her cottage, and to Shep, who was waiting patiently for his dinner.
Chapter 24
The dry season had well and truly sucked the last of the moisture from the landscape, and what remained of the grass was little more than standing straw. Lucy’s evening walks now took her through a bleached landscape, the road hard and dusty beneath her feet. The coats of the cows were dull and rough, their summer plumpness all but gone. Dennis and Ted were kept busy continuously checking and refilling molasses and mineral licks in the paddocks. The lagoons were low, and largely devoid of birdlife and the usual buzzing clouds of insects. The snakes were all asleep, and not a single frog had adorned the homestead veranda for many weeks.
The second half of August brought warmer weather but still no sign of rain. The thirsty ground was cracking in places, and all the adults seemed distracted and harried. Even the children fell silent each day for the TV weather report. Then, for over a week, large areas of the property were ravaged by fire. For much of this time, Lucy was left in charge of the kids while Mel, in spite of her expanding belly, went out with the men to fight the blazes and back-burn.
A day of drenching rain came at last, extinguishing in minutes what the feeble humans had been battling to contain for days. Mel, back in the house again, grumbled about the jobs that had mounted up in her absence. The frogs soon reappeared. When the sun came out again, the reptiles began to stir, and the children showed Lucy their winding tracks in the dirt.
One ordinary mid-term Tuesday, Lucy was given the day off. Mel had arranged an antenatal check-up at Townsville hospital, and she was making the most of the trip by taking all the children to the dentist.
‘I’ve got just over a month till I have to have this baby,’ Mel had explained to Lucy the day before. ‘Better go for at least one check-up.’
Lucy was secretly thrilled at the prospect of a whole day to herself at Charlotte’s Creek. Once the noisy family had departed, tranquillity settled over the old buildings. She stood for a moment taking in the scene from the veranda of her cottage. A hawk circled and hovered above the Hospital paddock, and a breath of air carried to Lucy the fresh smell of the rain that had fallen during the night. An insect buzzed lazily past her ear, and the poplar gums that shaded her cottage rustled gently. She suddenly wondered if Lotte was about, perhaps enjoying the peace as well.
After collecting the eggs from the chicken coop and putting them away in the fridge, Lucy decided to sit out on the veranda of the main house. No sooner had she curled up in the squatter’s chair with her book than Ted rattled over in one of the utes.
‘Westy about?’ he asked through the open window.
‘No. I haven’t seen him since early this morning.’
‘Righto. Well, if he wants me, I’m out checking the high country.’
‘Okay . . . the high country,’ Lucy repeated, committing it to memory.
He paused for a moment, frowning, then asked, ‘You wanna see a bit of new ground?’
‘Oh, you mean go with you?’ she asked in surprise.
‘Well, I haven’t got a flash chopper, but I can show you a thing or two.’
‘I’d love to!’ Lucy jumped up. ‘I’ll get some better shoes on.’
Once Lucy had changed into her sturdy boots and climbed into the ute, Ted took the high track away from the buildings. After passing through some undulating grassland, the road wound its way upwards through box woodland, where an undergrowth of straggly Leichhardt bean suckers clumped, adorned with bunches of yellow buds. Then the track came out into clearer country, and they followed a fence line up a steep, rocky incline before going through a gate into Ludwig’s Camp.
After checking the trough, Ted clambered easily up the windmill, a container of oil in his hand. Lucy felt slightly dizzy as she looked up at him, his long form perched on the tiny platform under the wheel. He deposited oil in several places and climbed down as quickly as he’d ascended. The next stop was alongside a stretch of rusty barbed-wire fence in Round Mountain. The lowest wire was broken, the curled-up ends tangled in the long grass.
‘What broke it?’ Lucy asked, as they stepped out of the ute.
‘Fence crawler probably, or a big wild boar.’ Ted shrugged. ‘Bulls fighting, maybe. Roos and emus sometimes break them, but they usually bugger up the top wires.’
‘Bulls, roos and emus I’m familiar with, but a fence crawler is . . . ?’ Lucy was picturing some sort of stealthy, reptilian creature, sliding under the wires.
Ted laughed. ‘Nothing special. Just any old cow that gets a taste for swapping paddocks. They learn how to lie down and push under. Teach their calves too.’
Lucy had by now seen enough fences being mended to be familiar with the procedure. She stood beside Ted and watched while he twisted a loop into each broken end of barbed wire. Next, taking a roll of plain wire, he fed the end of it through the first loop and then the second, where he tied it off. Using the pliers, he levered the new wire briskly through the first loop until the fence was strained tight.
‘There’s certainly a
n art to that,’ Lucy said admiringly.
Ted examined her face, his eyes narrowed, to see if she was mocking him. ‘Don’t need no university degree to work a set of pliers,’ he said dryly.
‘I know plenty of people with degrees who couldn’t do what you just did,’ Lucy replied. ‘Including myself.’
‘Nothing to it. If we find any more busted fences, you can have a crack at it.’
‘I’ll do my best,’ Lucy said uncertainly.
He gave her a sidelong glance, and then his serious face erupted into the sudden grin that never failed to take Lucy’s breath away. ‘You’re an odd one, you are.’ He turned and headed for the ute. Lucy followed, wondering what had amused him so much.
They checked three more troughs and windmills, Lucy insisting on opening all the gates and doing the honours of climbing the sides of the tanks to check the water levels. Then they stopped at several tiny shelter sheds to put out bags of powdered mineral lick.
Next they entered Cabbage Tree. It was a long paddock, crisscrossed by deep gullies running between jagged ridges of orange stone. Lucy struggled to open a tight wire gate into the fenced-off creek area. Eventually Ted came to help her and tie it open.
‘Cattle have been shut out of here,’ he explained. ‘I’ll open it up for them now so they can get a bit of fresh pick. Do you mind if we stop for lunch? I only had a dingo’s breakfast this morning.’ When Lucy looked at him quizzically, he clarified, ‘A drink and a good look around.’
Parking the ute, he leaned across in front of Lucy and opened the glovebox to remove a sandwich wrapped in an old bread bag, and an enamel cup. Then he climbed out of the ute and began to stride away through the long grass. Lucy hurried along behind, looking warily into the grass and trying to step where Ted had trod. They came to a narrow pad parallel to the creek; then the floor of the gully widened and all at once they were underneath an immense strangler fig, standing on a wide bed of round, water-polished creek stones. The old paperbark tree that was the fig’s host had been almost entirely engulfed by layer upon layer of the fig’s snake-like roots, and the canopy of glossy, dark green leaves hung nearly to the ground, enclosing them in a cave-like coolness.
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