Whispers At Wongan Creek

by Juanita Kees

  Harry’s hands shook between his knees where he had them clasped tightly. ‘Fuck you, Bannister.’

  ‘Oh she did that all right. Well and truly. A wild one, she was. Took a real man to tame her.’

  ‘John, that’s enough now.’ Doc Benson’s quiet tones filtered through the tense atmosphere as he appeared in the doorway of his consulting room. ‘Leave it be.’

  Bannister turned away to settle his bill. As he opened the door to leave, he threw out, ‘See you in court, Murchison.’

  Travis watched the door close with dread in his heart. Harry didn’t stand a chance with the justice system firmly in Bannister’s pocket.

  ‘Now what did you do that for? Come into the consulting room, Harry. Let me look at those knuckles.’ Doc Benson helped Harry up off the chair.

  The old man stumbled and Travis took his other arm to stabilise him. Between them, they walked him into the stark white room.

  ‘Shoulda clocked the bastard years ago,’ muttered Harry.

  ‘Those things just get you into trouble, you know that. Sit down,’ ordered Doc Benson.

  He eased Harry into a chair and Travis took the seat next to him. Doc picked up a cotton swab from the bench behind his desk, dropped antiseptic onto it and pressed it to the weakened skin of Harry’s knuckles.

  ‘Worth it. Damned satisfying,’ grumbled Harry.

  Doc Benson stood to toss the cotton swab into the trash, washed his hands in the sink and dabbed them dry on paper towel. ‘Eileen’s been gone a long time, my friend. Even Bannister couldn’t hold on to her.’

  ‘He’s still a mongrel for taking her from me.’

  ‘Let it go. He’ll lay charges for today.’

  Harry’s shoulders sagged, his age etched into his face. ‘Don’t care as long as he doesn’t get his filthy paws on my land when I’m gone.’

  ‘I’ve written the letter regarding your decline in mental health. Travis will be granted power of enduring guardianship to take care of your medical and lifestyle needs. I’ll have power of attorney to take care of your financial affairs. Do you understand the implications of that, Harry?’

  ‘You’re telling me I’m forgetful. I’m not stupid.’

  Travis grinned. ‘Any more of that attitude and we’ll put you in a nursing home,’ he teased.

  Harry snorted. ‘You’ll bury me first, you bastard.’

  ‘Harry, you know that a nursing home is a very likely event as things get worse, don’t you? I need you to be clear on that.’ Doc Benson sat down in his chair and pulled a manila folder filled with paperwork towards him.

  ‘Clear as bloody daylight.’

  ‘For now, until all the paperwork has gone through the legal system, you can stay up at the house but Travis will be keeping a close eye on you. I’m also registering you for home care with the Department of Health and Welfare so Heather Penney can add you to her visitation schedule.’

  ‘I’m not a child. I don’t need a babysitter.’

  Doc Benson ignored him. ‘Any signs that you’re not capable of looking after yourself anymore, and Travis will make the call.’

  Harry sighed, sadness weighing down his shoulders. He eyed the swelling around his knuckles for a moment. ‘You’ll look after me, won’t you, son? For as long as you can? I can’t bear to leave the land, to never see the sun rise over the creek, or go looking for those mongrel sheep. Everything I have is on Murchison’s Run. It’s the only home I’ve ever known.’

  Travis stood out of the chair and went down on his haunches in front of him. He placed his hands on Harry’s knobbly, arthritic knees. ‘I swear I will do everything in my power to keep you on your land for as long as I possibly can, Harry.’

  Harry gripped Travis’ shoulder with his uninjured hand. ‘On ya, son.’

  Doc Benson called his wife into the consulting room to witness the signing of the documents. The pen trembled as Harry turned to the desk and pressed the nib to the paper that would take away his independence, his signature resembling chicken scratch compared to the flowing cursive it had once been. And then it was over. Travis hated the slump in Harry’s shoulders, the emptiness in his eyes. A man didn’t deserve to be stripped of his dignity this way.

  Harry hung his head for a moment, his hands clasped tightly between his knees. Then he slapped his palms on his thighs and stood. ‘Let’s get out of here, son. I need a drink.’

  ***

  Heather tossed her hard hat onto the seat and shrugged off her orange safety vest, her temper only barely restrained. There always had to be one heckler in the crowd. She looked around the mine carpark, irritated and more than ready to leave the dusty site operations behind. If it wasn’t for the fact that she cared for the welfare of the mine workers, she wouldn’t have agreed to give the talk here at the operations centre. This was Bannister territory and Zac Bannister thought he was the big dog in the pack.

  John Bannister’s grandson was an idiot of note—big, tough and with a reputation for being a troublemaker. He’d proved himself worthy of the title many a Friday night down at the pub. This wasn’t the first time he’d tried to belittle her in front of a crowd. She’d hoped he wouldn’t be on the day shift, wouldn’t show up for her presentation. She should have known better. He still held a grudge for the many times she’d turned down his lewd invitations, the final altercation when he’d grabbed her from behind and his big ugly paws had been all over places she didn’t want them.

  She’d stomped on the arch of his thong-clad foot, elbowed him in the stomach and pushed him to the ground on his backside, a self-defence move that made a fool out of him in front of his mates and earned her an enemy for life.

  ‘Hey, bitch!’ he called after her now.

  Temper morphed into disquiet. Heather ignored his taunt and swallowed down the panic that squeezed the air from her lungs. She got into her car and locked all the doors in case he got it into his head to open one. He stopped in front of the hood and placed his gorilla paws on the big steel bull bar that protected the front of the four-wheel drive.

  Zac Bannister wasn’t a tall man. He was short and stocky with a fast-developing beer belly where defined abs should be. His long, shaggy beard and greasy hair lent him a thuggish look, and the company he kept when he was off site suggested links to a rebel motorcycle gang. Until now, she hadn’t been scared of the big ape, just wary. Today his behaviour was a lot meaner.

  She wound the window down a crack. ‘Move, Bannister, or so help me God, I’ll drive you over.’ Heather hoped she sounded strong and confident.

  ‘You wouldn’t have the guts to do that.’

  She started the engine, one foot shaking on the brake pedal, the other ready to accelerate. ‘I’ll count to three. One …’

  She prepared to change gear from neutral to reverse. His grip on the front was loose, so if she drove backward his hands would slip easily and maybe with a bit of karma intervention he’d land on his ugly mug in the dirt.

  ‘You think you’re so much smarter and better than anyone else with your pussy-whipping talks. One day, I’ll show you what a real man can do.’

  ‘Two.’ She revved the engine, fear forming a sweat on her forehead, his threat conjuring awful pictures in her mind. What would he do if there weren’t a few hundred people on site who might walk out any minute and witness his bullying behaviour?

  ‘I’ll teach you a lesson, you stuck up bitch. You won’t walk for weeks.’

  ‘Three,’ shouted Heather, panic making her voice pitchy. ‘Last call to get away from my car.’

  With a feral growl, he let go of the bull bar and launched himself around the hood to the driver’s door, his hand ready to rip the door handle off.

  ‘Zac!’ Old man Bannister’s warning rang out across the carpark. ‘Get away from there, you bloody drongo.’ With a hand on his grandson’s collar, he yanked him away from the door. ‘Sorry about that, Heather. I’ll deal with it from here.’

  Heather nodded, her heart pounding. She wasn’t sure where John had
come from but she was glad he’d appeared in time. Oh God, had she pushed too far? The look in Zac’s eyes as he’d glared at her through the window went beyond anger. It touched on madness that promised unspeakable revenge, and for the first time had her terrified of what he might truly be capable of. Hands shaking, she put the four-wheel drive into gear and drove off site as fast as the thirty kilometre per hour speed limit would allow.

  Twenty minutes later, the confrontation with Zac still whirling in her mind and unease in the pit of her stomach, Heather pulled into the parking lot in front of Mama Bella’s. She hadn’t even noticed the rolling landscape she loved so much or taken the time to admire the majestic Whispering Hills that rose up across the creek. As she’d driven out, her focus had been solely on reaching the safety zone of the town, as far away from Zac Bannister as possible.

  With its pretty yellow painted walls, blue planter boxes filled with geraniums and a red and white welcome sign above the door, the homeliness of Bella’s café would provide the warmth and comfort she needed. A cup of chamomile tea would be just the thing to settle her nerves.

  This time Zac Bannister had scared her. In his eyes she’d seen murderous intent where before they’d only held the stormy look of a bully and troublemaker. Now she’d think twice about going down to the pub alone on a Friday night, or would cross the street if she ran into him town.

  She pushed open the door to the café and stepped into the lunchtime rush of Mama Bella’s. Taking a quick look around, she noticed almost every booth was occupied, but with edginess still snapping at her heels, she didn’t take time to study the faces of the occupants. Were Travis and Harry here yet? Had they made it in for the milkshake he’d promised? The thought that they might be eased some of the knots in her belly. It would help take her mind off things, give her something else to think about.

  ‘Heather, come on in, love.’ Bella Hicks waved to her from behind the shop’s teak counter laden with pastries and slices under glass domes. ‘Oh my goodness, child! You’re as white as a sheet. Are you okay?’

  Heather placed her hands on the counter top and saw they were still shaking. She tightened her grip on her car keys and purse to try and stop the reaction. ‘I’m okay, thanks.’

  With a weak smile, she scanned the collection of herbal tea caddies lined up between the ornamental teapots, cups and saucers on the shelves behind the counter.

  ‘Sweetheart, you don’t look okay. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’ Bella wiped her hands on her floral apron and scanned Heather’s face. ‘Tell me to mind my own business if you like, but a girl’s hands don’t shake like yours are doing for no reason.’

  Heather sighed. The small town rumour mill would no doubt be running hot anyway once it got wind of what had happened up at the mine. There were plenty of people leaving the operations building bordering the carpark after the meeting. They would have been coming out just in time to see John Bannister giving Zac a dressing down. No doubt speculation would be running high over a beer or three at the pub later.

  ‘I had a run in with Zac Bannister after the meeting today. It shook me up a little.’

  Bella tut-tutted and shook her head, making wayward strands of grey hair escape from her bun. ‘That boy, I tell you. He’s always been a little troublemaker. A big bully, that’s all he is. You be careful though, love. His temper is getting worse. John will have to do something about that boy soon or all hell will break loose in this town.’

  ‘Lucky Mr Bannister was there. He gave Zac a talking to. It’s okay.’ Not wanting to discuss it anymore, Heather focused on the plastic-sleeved menu. ‘Can I have a pot of chamomile and peppermint tea please, Bella? And a ham and cheese croissant. Thanks.’

  ‘That’s barely enough to keep an ant alive, dear. I tell you what; I’ll throw in a piece of my Irish Cream slice for you. You’ll need the sugar after such a shock.’

  ‘Shock? What shock?’ Warmth enveloped her back and the smell of Travis’ spicy aftershave teased her senses as his voice sent a thrill down her spine. ‘What happened, Heather?’

  His hand came to rest on her shoulder. She was so tempted to lean back into him, to feel his strength, to absorb his warmth and let it ease the chill from her fingertips.

  ‘That bloody Bannister boy had a go at her up at the mine,’ Bella filled in for her.

  Turning her towards him, he tipped her chin up with his forefinger. ‘You okay? What did the dickhead do this time?’

  Heather read the concern mixed with annoyance in his eyes. ‘It’s nothing, really. John Bannister dealt with it.’

  ‘Heather, the last time you had a run in with Zac, you put him flat on his arse in front of his mates. And as much as I enjoyed watching you do that at the pub that night, guys like him hold grudges. So don’t tell me it’s nothing.’

  Bella leaned forward over the counter. ‘Travis, the girl was shaking like the ground after a blasting up at the mine on a Tuesday. Take her to a booth and I’ll come out with her tea and take your order.’

  With a nod to Bella, he lowered his grip to Heather’s elbow. ‘Come on. You and Harry are quite the pair.’

  ‘How so?’ Heather fell into step beside him as they located Harry in a booth in the far corner of the shop.

  ‘Harry had a run in with John Bannister at Doc Benson’s. Looks like they’re causing trouble all over town today.’

  ‘Bloody mongrels,’ grumbled Harry from the corner near the window. ‘I got him a good shot though.’

  Travis grinned. ‘You sure caught him off guard all right.’ He let Heather slip into the booth and took a seat next to her. ‘Harry clocked him one on the mouth. Split his lip. Not that I’m encouraging your behaviour, Harry,’ Travis warned, shaking his forefinger at the old man.

  ‘Oh, Harry!’ For a moment, Heather forgot her own run in with a Bannister. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Yeah, mate, except for these.’ He showed her the torn skin on his knuckles. ‘Those bastards think they run this bloody town.’

  Bella arrived with Heather’s tea. She slid the teapot onto the table and turned the cup up on its saucer. ‘Here we go, love. Get that into you. Your croissant will be along soon. What can I get you and Harry, Travis?’

  They placed their order and Bella bustled away. Travis turned to Heather.

  ‘So, what happened with Zac?’

  Heather shrugged and held onto her saucer as Travis poured her tea. ‘He came after me when I left the meeting. I got into the car and locked the doors, but he tried to stop me leaving by standing in front of it.’

  ‘Shoulda driven the little bastard over,’ grumbled Harry.

  ‘What did he do?’ Travis put the teapot down with a warning glance at his neighbour.

  ‘Called me names, threatened me. He tried to wrench the door open, but his grandfather saw him and dragged him away.’

  ‘The little shit. I hope you’re going to report it to Riggs.’ Travis gave Heather’s arm a squeeze.

  She let herself lean into his shoulder a little, just for a moment. Her stomach churned at the thought of what might have happened if Zac had got the door open. There’d be nothing gentle about him at all, unlike Travis’ warm and comforting touch.

  The more she thought about it, the more fear ate its way into her mind. Reporting it to the cops would only make Zac’s anger worse, and his need for revenge greater. Even if they issued an AVO, it would be nothing more than a paper shield that would do nothing at all to protect her.

  She shook her head. ‘No, it’s okay. John Bannister promised he’d deal with it.’

  ‘That bloody mongrel’s no better at keeping his word than a two-bit scammer,’ said Harry. ‘Wouldn’t trust that bloke further than I can throw him.’

  ‘Which is not very far, and you’re not helping here, Harry.’ Travis let his arm drop around her shoulders. ‘If he ever threatens you again, you tell me, okay?’

  Heather nodded. ‘Thanks.’

  With a weak smile, she looked up into his face. His beautiful g
reen eyes filled with concern that made her heart stutter and miss a beat, the comfort of his arm around her reassuring.

  Where before she felt cold and afraid, now she felt warm and safe. She burrowed closer, looked down at her cup and sipped her tea, not minding his arm around her at all.

  Bella arrived with the rest of their order. ‘Here we go. I’ve given you each a slice of tart on the house. Travis, I’ve told Janet you’re here. When school’s out and her class has left, she’ll collect Casey and bring her over so you don’t have to walk over to pick her up.’

  ‘Thanks, Bella.’ Travis grinned. ‘Doesn’t sound like she needed convincing.’

  Bella smiled back. ‘That girl loves kids. She did the right thing becoming a teacher. She’ll make a good mum too.’

  Travis squirmed beside her and Heather looked up. His cheeks were slightly pink.

  ‘Yeah, she’ll make someone a good wife one day.’

  Bella laughed. ‘Just not you, right?’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Hmmm.’ Bella looked at the arm around Heather’s shoulder. ‘Right. Well, enjoy your meal. Good to see more colour in your cheeks now, Heather.’ With a wink, she turned back to clear off a recently vacated table.

  ‘Oh my God, does she think …?’ Heather shifted away and Travis’ arm dropped into the space between them.

  Travis grinned. ‘I don’t know but if that stops her matchmaking me with her daughter, I’ll play along. Not that Janet isn’t a lovely girl. She’s just not my type.’

  Harry snorted. ‘Do you even remember what your type is, boy? How long has it been since you got laid?’

  ‘Bloody oath, Harry, what have I said about filtering what comes out of your mouth?’

  Heather felt laughter bubble up over her fear. She caught Harry’s eye and his wink. ‘You’re a stirrer, Harry.’

  ‘You’d better believe it. Where’s my beer?’

  Travis pushed a chocolate milkshake in front of him. ‘This is as close as you’re going to get, you old bugger.’