River Run

by Alexander, Nicole

  ‘Do you still love Uncle Colin, Mum?’ For a moment Eleanor wished that she’d not asked the question, but a door had been opened and after everything she’d witnessed over the past few days, she felt she had to persevere.

  Georgia’s silence lasted the length of the garden boundary, extending past the tree where Robbie’s cattle-pup should have been sulking in the shade, but Bluey and the chain were gone. By the time the vehicle turned through the side gate and travelled along the gravel at the rear of the house, Eleanor’s expectations were fading.

  ‘I was so lost after your father died, Elly. Colin was there when I needed someone. And being with him, well, it was like I still had a part of your father with me. It’s hard to explain, but in those early days, when Colin was with me, your father was as well. I don’t know how I would have coped without him back then.’

  ‘And now?’ Eleanor asked, tentatively.

  Georgia worked down through the gears of the truck as they neared the kitchen entrance. ‘Robbie was conceived before Colin and I married.’

  Eleanor couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘But how can that be?’

  ‘Do you really need the birds and bees talk at this stage, Elly?’ Georgia laughed. ‘You girls were at boarding school. Only Mrs Howell and Rex knew the truth of things, because they couldn’t miss it. Robbie was nearly ten pound when he was born, although there’s never been a word breathed about it by anyone. As far as the district and you girls were concerned, Robbie was premature.’

  Eleanor digested the truth of her mother’s marriage with a mixture of disbelief and shock. ‘So you may not have married Colin if –’

  ‘No,’ interrupted Georgia, ‘I may not have. But I did,’ she said firmly.

  Was this why Georgia was so outspoken about Athena’s illegitimate child? Perhaps, Eleanor decided, her mother felt that Athena should have done the right thing and married, as she did. Or maybe Georgia resented Athena’s strength in electing to remain a single mother.

  Rubber screeched on gravel as the vehicle came to a stop. For a moment, both women remained in the vehicle, their eyes on the kitchen screen door.

  ‘This is to stay between you and me, Elly.’

  Eleanor’s mouth was dry. ‘Of course, Mum.’ She desperately wanted to know whether her mother was aware of Colin’s philandering. While she’d not witnessed anything beyond flirtation, the farewell kiss and Margaret’s appearance at the garden shed were suggestive of something larger at play.

  Georgia got out of the vehicle and slammed the door of the truck. ‘What a week.’

  ‘I have to go find Lesley.’ Eleanor addressed her mother across the roof of the work truck. ‘I haven’t seen her since this morning.’

  ‘Lesley, yes, of course,’ she sighed. ‘With everything else that’s happened today, I must admit I’d briefly forgotten about your sister. Really and truly. There’s grief and then there’s self-pity. Wouldn’t you think Lesley would channel her energies into hating the damn Japanese? That’s what I’d be doing if I were her. I still get a lot of satisfaction out of despising the Germans.’

  At their arrival, the screen door to the kitchen opened and Mrs Howell appeared. ‘Glad as a youngster on Christmas Day I am to see you, Mrs Webber.’ The housekeeper held the door open for them to enter, taking the opportunity to glare at Eleanor.

  ‘What’s happened now?’ asked Georgia. ‘Is it Lesley? Elly said she’s not been seen. Is she back?’

  The housekeeper’s hundred-yard stare was directed at Eleanor. ‘No, she is not, but –’

  ‘It’s about the stranger, Mum.’ Eleanor sensed that the truth she’d been harbouring regarding the patient was out. She couldn’t delay telling her mother any longer. ‘Well, his name is Chad Reynolds. He’s an Italian-American.’

  ‘He’s regained his speech?’ Georgia questioned with surprise, once they were standing in the kitchen. ‘When?’ Lifting the doily from a jug, she poured water into a glass and drank the contents thirstily.

  ‘He’s done more than that,’ Mrs Howell said tightly. ‘Someone forgot to lock his bedroom door.’ She looked directly at Eleanor. ‘He’s gone.’

  Georgia sat the glass on the kitchen table before rushing along the passageway to the empty sickroom. Eleanor followed Mrs Howell, peering over the two women’s shoulders as they stood in the doorway. Sure enough, the room was empty, the key still hanging on the hook near the door.

  ‘Eleanor was last in the room,’ the housekeeper tittle-tattled.

  Mrs Howell and her mother exchanged looks and then, very slowly, turned to where Eleanor stood. She gave a wan smile. The key was exactly where Eleanor had left it after delivering Chad’s laundered clothes. She’d never even thought about locking the door. Not after all he’d told her.

  ‘Have you checked the house, Mrs Howell?’ enquired Georgia, ignoring her daughter.

  ‘Do I look like a woman who wants to tempt fate?’ the house keeper retaliated. ‘Keep him locked up, I said. Board the windows so he couldn’t get out, we decided.’

  ‘But he’s an immigrant,’ Eleanor replied, as she and Mrs Howell trailed Georgia. The mistress of River Run was marching along the passageway at a cracking pace, turning into the airy entrance hall. ‘A man shot by accident on our property,’ she persisted.

  ‘Every room,’ Georgia stated. ‘We will search every room in this house.’ Her mother took a heavy brass poker from the hearth in the sitting room as they continued their sweep of the building: sun-room, dining room, station office and library.

  ‘Don’t you think you’re over-reacting, Mum?’ Eleanor cautioned.

  ‘Over-reacting,’ Georgia intoned, ‘would be taking my father’s shotgun from above the mantelpiece in the office. One wonders why he didn’t come straight to you in the kitchen if he was up and about, Mrs Howell.’ Georgia closed the cupboard under the stairs, which was large enough to hold a person. ‘You’ve been there all morning.’

  ‘All morning,’ the housekeeper established.

  ‘I don’t like this,’ Georgia observed, her riding boots loud as she moved through each room. The ground floor, with its stately public rooms, quiet nooks, storage areas and staff sections, were deserted.

  ‘He’s probably outside, taking in some sun,’ Eleanor told the women. ‘He has been bedridden.’

  They were at the foot of the substantial staircase. Georgia raised a hand for quiet and then, very slowly, looked towards the floor above.

  ‘He’s been in the war and everything.’ Eleanor couldn’t understand where Chad may have gone to. ‘He was with the Americans.’ Her explanation was beginning to sound like a plea. ‘He fought in Greece. On our side. He’s not quite himself, Mum. It’s not shellshock or anything like that, but he’s got problems from the war. You know, mixed up, a bit like Marcus was.’

  The two older women turned as one, their stares equally condemnatory.

  ‘That’s quite a conversation you’ve had with this man, Eleanor,’ her mother replied. ‘A man we know little about. When exactly did this Chad person regain his speech?’

  ‘But that’s what he told me,’ Eleanor persisted, ignoring the question. ‘He said he’d been in the area visiting the Harris’s and that he got lost. He admitted to stealing Robbie’s cray-bobs but only because he was starving.’

  ‘What cray-bobs? And who are these Harris’s?’ asked Georgia, a bewildered expression crossing her features. ‘I’ve never heard of them.’ She turned to the housekeeper for confirmation.

  ‘The name’s not familiar to me,’ Mrs Howell replied.

  ‘And he didn’t like Athena Pappas,’ Eleanor continued, traipsing up the stairs behind her mother and the housekeeper, although her enthusiasm for the man’s cause was beginning to wane. She was trying to justify her trust of the man, but it was rather bizarre that the moment she’d left the door unlocked, the stranger disappeared. Had she really been so mistaken?

  ‘Go on, Eleanor.’ Her mother’s tone was less than conciliatory.

 
; Actually, Eleanor didn’t know if she wanted to. ‘He heard Athena singing a German song.’

  ‘And?’ Georgia prompted.

  ‘Well, Chad accused her of being a German collaborator. That’s why he elected not to speak. He was confused and –’ Eleanor froze. ‘Oh.’

  ‘Oh, what?’ asked her mother as they walked upstairs.

  ‘Athena said the same thing about Chad.’ Who was right? Who was being falsely accused?

  Georgia made a tsking sound with her tongue. ‘And you took the word of a trespasser over that of a woman employed in this household? How long exactly has this Chad person been able to speak for, Eleanor?’

  Eleanor hung her head. ‘A couple of days.’

  Mrs Howell gave a harrumph. ‘It seems to me, young lady, that you’ve been caught on a line like a big, fat, yellowbelly. Won your confidence he did, plain as day. Bided his time and then …’ She rubbed one palm quickly against the other. ‘That’s one slippery individual we’ve got prowling around River Run, Mrs Webber.’

  ‘But he did seem out of sorts, Mum. Honest.’

  Georgia climbed the stairs quickly, adjusting the poker in her grasp. Once on the second floor, they went from room to room, frightening the young housemaid, Alice, who was cleaning the Winslows’ recently vacated bedroom, a pile of linen in the doorway. ‘Oh, it’s you, Mrs Webber,’ Alice said politely and with some relief. ‘I heard banging and clanging, but I didn’t want to disturb you in your room.’

  ‘Disturb me?’ Georgia repeated. She looked the length of the hallway to where the door to her bedroom was ajar.

  Mrs Howell snatched up the broom the girl held and then together the three women moved briskly along the carpeted hallway towards the room. Once outside the ornately panelled door, Eleanor and Mrs Howell traded worried glances. They braced for what lay in wait within. Georgia lifted the brass poker aloft, as if weighing its effectiveness as a weapon and then, with a breath, flung open the bedroom door.

  Wood jarred wood, the noise loud and sharp. Inside the room, the day encroached through large windows framed by cream silk curtains. Mint-green walls and a moss-green carpet highlighted dark pieces of antique furniture and a four-poster bed complete with brass bed-knobs. The large bed was freshly made, the white coverlet, creaseless, while the dress Georgia had changed from earlier that morning lay across a pale cream and green chair.

  ‘Is everything alright?’ Alice asked, from where she stood in the hallway, her arms filled with bedlinen.

  Georgia walked directly to the mahogany dresser. A number of the drawers were open, clearly rifled through. Eleanor watched as her mother withdrew a red velvet box, lifting the lid.

  ‘My jewellery.’ She looked horrified. ‘It’s gone. The pieces your father gave me, Elly. They’re all gone.’

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  By mid-afternoon, with the house, grounds and outbuildings scoured for a second time, and neither Lesley nor the mysterious Chad Reynolds located, new search parties were organised. Colin, Hugh, Dawson and two of the jackeroos, Murph and Wormy, were joined by a fiercely unyielding Billy Wright in the search for the missing patient.

  ‘Making amends for being an idiot, I am,’ the shearer announced when he appeared at the front of the house where everyone gathered on the veranda to discuss the search plans and eat hastily prepared sandwiches. ‘No arguments. I heard what was going on. I’m here to help.’

  Eleanor, having been thoroughly questioned and reprimanded by both her mother and stepfather for her part in Chad Reynolds’ duplicity, found Hugh Goward’s disbelief when told of her involvement particularly uncomfortable. The loss of his good opinion, which Eleanor sincerely hoped she’d held, made her anxious and embarrassed. She waited quietly on the veranda as Billy Wright repeated his offer of assistance. Georgia lifted an enquiring eyebrow in Hugh’s direction. It was the slightest of gestures, and Eleanor doubted if anyone else noticed, except for the intended recipient.

  ‘We appreciate the offer, Billy,’ Hugh said, between swollen lips. The morning’s altercation was behind them, however, Hugh and the jackeroos carried the scars. ‘I think we’ll be pretty right. Besides, you don’t want any of those younger fellas getting the lead on you in the shed with the tally. It’s always hard to catch up.’

  The shearer took no notice of the Stud Master. ‘No, siree. I’ll find that Yankee whippersnapper and then, if little Lesley hasn’t been found by the time we bring him in, well I’ll search for her too.’ He shoved his hands in his pockets.

  Eleanor wondered how long it had been since Billy last saw her elder sister. It was years since her childhood.

  ‘Search for her all night, I will,’ the shearer continued. ‘I remember when she was knee-high to a grasshopper. Came down to the shed, she did, one shearing. Brought a doll she’d been given for Christmas. Done up in a white wedding dress. Well, that little ’un was pleased as punch. Yes, she was. Told me she was going to have a dress exactly the same when she was all grown up. Told her I had one exactly the same, a bride doll, that is. Well, you should have seen the smile on her face.’

  Rex cleared his throat. Dawson, who remained standing on the driveway, only feet from Billy, scuffed at the small stones beneath his boots.

  ‘A man barely talks for twenty years and then he can’t shut up.’ Rex’s muttering was heard by everyone, however, Billy appeared not to care.

  The shearer adjusted the canvas waterbag hanging on a shoulder. ‘So I’m a-coming too.’

  ‘We can expect the police in a couple of hours,’ Mrs Howell reminded everyone, as she sat a jug of chilled water on the table. ‘The constable did say that he would leave immediately.’

  ‘You’ll have to man the fort, Mrs Howell.’ Georgia, having downed a stiff shot of whisky earlier, was already on the gravel drive where the yellow truck was parked, eager to search for her daughter. ‘And you will also have to let the police know how many of us are out and about. I’m hopeful that my wandering daughter will simply show up.’

  ‘I’ll keep an eye out. I’ll be surprised if Lesley doesn’t appear very shortly,’ the housekeeper responded. ‘The girl will be needing a drink sooner or later, the way this heat is creeping up.’

  ‘Worse than yesterday.’ Colin, who’d barely spoken a word since his return from the fight at the shed, sat a hat firmly on his head. ‘I’ll leave this property map on the table for when the police arrive. I’ve marked the areas we’ll be heading to first. And lock the doors after we’ve left, Mrs Howell. We don’t know who we’re dealing with. At the very least this import we’ve cared for since Saturday is a crook.’ On the table were three boxes of rifle cartridges. Colin handed one a-piece to Hugh and Murph, pocketing the third.

  ‘I’ll head to the cemetery,’ Georgia told everyone. ‘That’s the only other place Lesley might be, visiting Marcus’s grave.’

  Eleanor noted her mother carried the German Luger brought back from the war by her father.

  ‘She’s right fragile, missus,’ said Rex, following his employer to the battered farm truck. ‘I never expected she’d still be in such a state after all these years.’

  Colin doubted Lesley would walk that far in such scorching weather.

  ‘You’re a blackfella,’ Billy said to Dawson, ‘you should be able to track little Lesley.’

  ‘Sure,’ Dawson’s face turned sour, ‘I’ll just go grab my nulla-nulla and change into my tracking clothes.’

  ‘No need to get wise on me,’ replied Billy.

  ‘I might be of the old people,’ answered Dawson, ‘but I’m a townie and a butcher by trade.’

  ‘Rex,’ said Georgia, ‘I’d like you and Elly to go back to the woolshed and keep an eye on things until cut-out. We don’t want the men getting a fit of the willies.’

  ‘Alright, missus,’ answered Rex.

  ‘Watch yourself out there,’ Colin said to his wife.

  Georgia gave an off-hand wave and the truck headed off in a flurry of flying grit. The men mounted their horses, check
ed water-bags and rifles and then, after final confirmation as to timings and directions, they began to ride off in pairs. Hugh and Wormy were to head towards the river, Billy and Murph out towards the back paddocks beyond the shearing shed, while Colin and Dawson were to ride in an ever-increasing circle using the homestead as a fulcrum of sorts.

  ‘Do you think you’ll find him?’ asked Eleanor. The rest of the men were already leaving as Hugh buttoned down the flap on his shirt-pocket, inside which was the outline of a red Cooper’s notebook. The cut above his eyebrow was crusted with blood and dirt, his swollen lip purple-red in colour.

  ‘The bush is a big place, but I guess it all depends on how experienced this Chad bloke is. If he’s smart he’ll head for the closest waterway. Or double-back and try to thieve a horse or vehicle. Did he say anything else, Eleanor? Anything that might help us find him?’

  ‘Nothing.’ Eleanor didn’t look at Hugh. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Hey, it’s not your fault that you’re the trusting sort.’ Hugh gave her a smile. Warmer than Eleanor felt was deserved.

  They stood together awkwardly, River Run’s newly appointed Stud Master holding the reins readying to mount as Wormy waited, his horse letting out a whinny of discontent.

  ‘I was sorry to hear about your wife.’ The words of sympathy were expressed without thought. ‘I didn’t know,’ Eleanor said softly, suddenly embarrassed at having broached the subject.

  The man opposite her responded with an unflinching gaze. ‘You’re a good person, Eleanor, your mother’s lucky to have you as a daughter.’