by Derek Hansen
‘In that case, you’re just going to have to come here, even though my prawns are frozen.’ She rose. ‘Now excuse me, the water’s boiling for the pasta.’
The brief chink in Billy’s façade, coupled with the pressed clothes and polished shoes, were signs too obvious to ignore. It was her first inkling that he entertained hopes that their friendship might extend beyond the merely neighbourly, and the prospect was not at all disagreeable. She liked Billy, and there was certainly more depth to him than she’d expected. A relationship hadn’t figured in any of her plans but, if the cards fell that way, would it be such a terrible thing?
She quickly fried the prawns in chilli, garlic and olive oil and added the pulp of a few tinned Italian tomatoes for colour and texture. It was a simple dish and done well but she didn’t expect quite the response she got. Billy raved about it.
‘Better than the club,’ he said.
‘High praise indeed.’
‘It is, Linda. The restaurant at the club does good food.’ He paused to swallow another mouthful and looked her squarely in the eye. ‘People don’t learn to cook this well just making dinner for themselves.’
Linda smiled wryly. No one she knew back in Sydney would be so blunt, but, in a strange way, she appreciated and even liked his frank honesty. He was curious and had every right to be. She decided to be equally frank in her reply but nonetheless miserly in the amount of information she gave him.
‘I’m divorced,’ she said. ‘I have a daughter who has just turned fourteen.’ She expected a reaction, a raising of eyebrows, something, but Billy simply accepted the information and waited for her to continue. It was an interviewing technique she’d learned on a management course, but Billy just did it naturally. Her mind raced as it examined options: how much to tell him and how much to tell him now?
‘My daughter is in boarding school.’
Billy nodded and waited. Linda sighed and made a quick judgement.
‘My daughter is in boarding school and … and my ex-husband is in gaol. I helped put him there.’
‘I figured it would be something like that.’ Billy showed no surprise or shock. His only concession was to look away from her, pick up his glass of wine and take a sip. ‘There had to be a reason why you came here. You’re worried what he’ll do to you when he gets out. If he finds you.’ It wasn’t a question but a statement.
Linda bit her lip. It had never been her intention to go so far so soon.
‘I also needed a break,’ she said defensively. ‘Coming here suits both purposes. If I’ve been circumspect it’s because I don’t want to get you involved in my problems. My ex-husband can be quite violent.’ It was time to revert to her training and deflect the discussion to him. ‘What about you? Have you never been married?’
Billy smiled apologetically, even guiltily, as though acknowledging he had no right to pry, and accepted the switch of focus as a rebuke. Courtesy demanded similar admissions.
‘Yes, I’ve been married, briefly and foolishly. Cut a lot of scrub since then. Cheryl-Lynne was her name. Not just Cheryl and not just Lynne. Local girl. Divorce was a blessing for both of us.’
‘What happened?’
‘She ran off with a travelling salesman she met in Walgett. She finally got what she wanted. A ticket out of here.’
‘What was she like?’
Billy’s eyes lit up as though he was enjoying a private joke, surprising Linda with their unexpected warmth.
‘She was nothing like you. She wasn’t quick, she wasn’t clever and she certainly wasn’t beautiful.’
Linda’s jaw dropped. She sat stunned, open-mouthed, amazed. At the start of the evening she’d bemoaned the fact that he hadn’t complimented her on her appearance. Now she had no idea how to deal with the compliments he had paid her. She was the one who was supposed to be quick and clever but his compliments — and their implications — left her gasping. She laughed while she stumbled for the appropriate response, knowing full well where that could take them and not wanting to make any mistakes. She reached for his hand, which seemed the logical next step, but her hand froze in midair. The sound of the gunshot reverberated up the gully, bouncing from ridge to ridge. Billy was on his feet before Linda had a chance to draw breath.
‘Rodney,’ he said. ‘That was a shotgun. I’ve got to go.’ He raced for the steps, ran down them and disappeared into the night, hot on the tail of his kelpie. A second shot set the birds screeching and wheeling into the air.
‘Be careful!’ she shouted. She was on her feet now, pulse racing. Surely it couldn’t be her ex-husband. Surely he couldn’t have found her. But what if he had? She felt suddenly alone and vulnerable. No, she realised, it couldn’t be, not midweek, not yet. She slumped down in her seat, trying to come to terms with how quickly things had changed, how with the mood of the evening and the exchange of confidences, a new depth or at least a better understanding had entered their relationship and, incredibly, how inevitably and naturally they seemed headed towards her bed. The image of him suddenly leaving the table was imprinted on her brain: his grim face, the table napkin still tucked between the second and third buttons of his shirt, and in his eyes the apprehension of a man hurrying to somewhere he didn’t want to go.
Billy gunned the ute down the track towards the road before spearing off left into the scrub, headlights and spotlights blazing. The second shot had come from a rifle and that had him worried. He could imagine the scene waiting for him up ahead if Rodney had accosted the pig shooters. It would be a confrontation Rodney was unlikely to win. Roos broke cover ahead of him and bounded along parallel to the ute. He cursed and slowed, well aware of their habit of suddenly cutting across in front of vehicles. He leaned on his horn, not just to frighten off the roos but to warn the people ahead that he was coming. The imminent intercession of a third party, a witness, might just be enough to cool passions and ease the pressure on triggers. That was what he hoped.
Billy had fashioned a gun rack behind the ute’s seats but only ever carried his rifle or shotgun when he had a specific use for it in mind. As he raced through the scrub he began to wonder what he’d do if shooting did break out. What could he do? He hadn’t heard any more shots and wasn’t sure if that was encouraging or a sign that Rodney had stopped a bullet. He swung wide around the banks of a dried-up warrambool filled with dead and blackened trees, slowed to a stop and turned off the motor. There was a track in front of him winding between the myalls and coolibahs. It was one of the few tracks that ran through to Stony Creek Road and he figured the shooters would’ve known that and chosen this part of the bush for their campsite. He heard shouting directly ahead of him; one of the voices was unmistakeably Rodney’s. At least he was still alive.
Billy restarted the ute and drove slowly forward in second gear. This was no time to go barging in like the cavalry. A cool head was called for and he wanted the shooters to know that he was unarmed and represented no threat to them. His spotlights bounced off glass and sheet metal about a hundred metres ahead. He leaned on the horn again for three long blasts. The trees thickened around the edges of the warrambool and their branches spread closer to the ground. Billy slowed even more as he picked his way through them and the clumps of thorns. The kelpie stood on the seat alongside him, alert and on edge.
As Billy crossed the dry stony creek linking the water holes he got his first good look at the vehicle in front of him and groaned involuntarily. It wasn’t a four-wheel drive and there’d be no match-up for the tyre tracks he’d seen. Worse, the vehicle was a Volkswagen Kombi converted into a campervan, the kind in which adventurous young tourists bummed around the outback. It even had flowers painted on the side. A young woman leaped out of the door and sprinted towards him, waving her arms in the air.
‘Oh, Christ,’ said Billy under his breath. The kelpie turned towards him sympathetically. He slowed to a stop and let the young woman run up to his open window. He knew exactly what she’d say.
‘Help,’ she said. ‘There�
�s a madman shooting at us.’
‘Take it easy,’ said Billy. ‘I know him and he’s harmless. I’ll sort it out.’
He slipped the ute into first gear and crawled towards the campsite. The young woman was careful to keep the ute between her and Rodney’s shotgun. He could hear Rodney shouting abuse and someone yelling back at him. He turned the wheel slightly so he could pick them up in his spotlights and stopped. If the situation hadn’t been so fraught he would have laughed. Rodney and a young bloke wearing shorts and nothing else stood facing each other with their weapons at the ready, as though rehearsing a scene for Gunfight at the OK Corral.
‘Would you two jokers put your weapons down,’ he said calmly. ‘Neither of you want to shoot anybody.’
‘This bloody madman took a shot at us!’
‘Yeah,’ said Billy, ‘he does that. This is his land you’re on.’
‘Bar-tid, thie-vin bar-tid!’ said Rodney. ‘I know what thede thie-vin bar-tid want!’
‘They’re not the Grawin mob, Rodney. All these people want is somewhere to spend the night, that’s all. Now put the shotgun down.’ He turned to the young man protecting his VW. ‘You too, mate. The shot was just to frighten you off. Rodney can shoot the legs off a mozzie at a hundred metres. If he’d wanted you dead, you would be.’
‘That prick’s insane,’ shouted the girl.
‘No, just territorial,’ said Billy. ‘The best thing you can do is pack up your gear and follow me back onto my property. You can spend the night there.’
‘We’re not staying anywhere around here,’ said the young man. ‘We’re outta here. That bloke’s a screamin’ nutter.’
‘Please yourself. Just pack up while I talk to Rodney and calm him down.’
The guy and girl began throwing things into their Kombi: their little fold-up table and chairs, their Hibachi barbecue, esky and dirty plates. At least they’d had time to finish their dinner. Rodney stood by quietly as though exhausted. Even his juddering jaw had slowed. The couple threw the last of their belongings — two sleeping bags and two lilos they didn’t bother to deflate — into the van and slammed the door shut.
‘Do you want me to guide you back out onto the road?’ asked Billy.
‘You just keep an eye on that freak,’ said the young man. He started the motor. ‘Make sure he doesn’t follow us. We’re heading back to Walgett. That bastard ought to be locked up.’
‘There’s no need to involve the police,’ said Billy hastily. ‘There’s no harm done.’
‘No harm done? The bloody freak could’ve killed us!’ The young man dropped the clutch and the Volkswagen lurched back towards the creek bed and the track to the road.
‘Bloody hell, Rodney,’ said Billy as they watched the tail-lights disappear off into the scrub. ‘You’ve really done it this time.’
‘They-yad no right to come on to my land.’
‘You’d no right to take a shot at them.’
‘I did-din doot at them. I dot o-ver their head.’ But Rodney’s defence lacked conviction and Billy could tell by the way he stood that he knew he’d done wrong. He looked exactly like he had years earlier when he’d been caught trying to sneak out of the general store with a chocolate bar he hadn’t paid for. Billy had tried to teach him and so had his brother, but Rodney had no talent at all for shoplifting.
‘Let’s hope the police agree with you. I’ll ring them in the morning and try to head them off. If they turn up on your doorstep, don’t greet them with your shotgun. You understand me? In fact, if you threw the bloody thing down a mineshaft you’d be doing yourself a big favour. Now go home.’
‘Tor-ry,’ said Rodney. If the little man had a talent for anything it was for looking guilty.
‘Yeah, mate, I know.’
The kelpie nuzzled sympathetically into Rodney’s hand.
‘Bar-tid, bitch, hoo-wah,’ he said.
‘Let’s go,’ said Billy. The kelpie sloped back to the ute and jumped up onto the passenger seat, ears flat as though sensing her master’s dismay. Billy turned the ute around and slowly started picking his way through the scrub towards home. He thought briefly about returning to Linda’s, but knew in his heart that the evening had effectively ended the moment he’d heard the blast from the shotgun. He felt the loss keenly.
Now that he had time to think, he mentally scrolled back through the evening and he couldn’t help wondering what possessed him at times. Sometimes his mouth had a mind of its own, operating independently from his brain. His questioning had been nothing short of rudeness and had embarrassed Linda into evasions. Yet he’d still persisted with his probing until she’d been forced to turn the question back on him. A flood of guilt washed over him. He’d had no right to stick his nose into her business in the first place. She paid him rent and, in doing so, bought privacy.
Yet he couldn’t help smiling. Nice things had taken place, things that couldn’t be ignored, and it had been a long time since that had happened.
He reached the point where he could turn back onto the track that led up to her place and stopped. He thought of her laugh, and her quickness to protect his feelings when he’d mentioned the love nest. He remembered how her hand was reaching for his. Was it too late to go back? He looked at his watch and saw that it was pushing ten o’clock. The night had ended. He decided he’d call her in the morning, after he’d rung the police and hosed down the situation with Rodney. There was nothing else he could do, except hope the evening had meant enough to Linda that she’d invite him over again. If not, nothing was lost except a deal of wishful thinking. He reluctantly engaged gear and turned for home.
‘That’s it for today?’ said Ramon.
‘It’s enough,’ said Neil. ‘We normally finish about this time. Milos might think it’s cute to keep us sitting around until our bums ache, but I’m more considerate.’
‘Neil,’ cut in Milos, ‘can’t we please finish the day on a more civil note? After all, this is my first day back. I came here delighted to see you all again and I would like to leave feeling the same way.’
‘Me too,’ said Lucio. ‘I think we should all have another drink. There’s wine left in the bottle.’
‘This anger isn’t like you,’ said Ramon. ‘But I sense it in the character of your brother, Billy, and that’s to your advantage. Your anger becomes his anger and it adds tension to the telling.’
‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’
‘I meant it as a compliment.’ Ramon picked up his glass and raised it as though preparing to make a toast. ‘I’d like to congratulate you on a successful start to what promises to be an interesting and intriguing story.’
‘Thank you, Ramon, but your congratulations are misplaced. They’d only be appropriate if my story was an invention, which unfortunately it isn’t. I don’t deserve congratulations for relaying events over which I had no control and ultimately emerge from without credit. Your comments are nothing more than flattery.’
‘They are an olive branch,’ said Milos. ‘An apology for putting you in a position where you feel obliged to tell this story.’
Neil snorted and pushed his glass of wine away.
‘Frankly, I’d rather have a beer.’
SECOND THURSDAY
Chapter Seven
Lucio and Milos arrived together and found Neil once more sipping a beer at the bar. Ramon joined them just as Gancio was pouring two more.
‘What is this? Do you want to make this a regular occurrence?’ asked Ramon. ‘If so, I think we should vote on it. I for one will stick to wine.’
‘Relax, Ramon, I’m not forcing anyone to have a beer. It doesn’t matter a damn to me whether you guys join me or not.’ Neil smiled and swallowed another mouthful. ‘I got here first and decided to have a beer by way of celebration.’
‘Oh yes? And what are we celebrating?’
‘I’m celebrating the return of my PA who chose to resign rather than give up sleeping with my main competitor.’
‘Congratulations
,’ said Lucio. ‘What brought about the change of heart?’
‘The enemy found her decidedly less attractive when she no longer had access to my confidential files. The grand amore, as you like to put it, didn’t even last a week.’
‘So you took her back?’ said Milos. ‘That was a very gracious thing to do.’
‘Gracious be buggered,’ said Neil. ‘Have you any idea how much recruitment agencies charge these days? Or how much time and money it takes to hire and train a replacement? Christ, I was so glad to see the tart back I was tempted to give her a raise. Gave her a kiss and threw my leg over instead.’
‘You what?’ said Lucio. He started to laugh. Ramon joined in while Milos just shook his head in wonder.
‘Hey, we always had a close relationship. Sometimes, when we were away on business together, we kind of gravitated to my bed. When she returned, cap in hand, asking for her job back I just wanted to let her know I had no hard feelings. I think she appreciated the personal touch.’
‘You have a very individual way of doing business,’ said Ramon.
‘Not so,’ cut in Lucio. ‘I once had a secretary who thought an invitation to lunch was a request to remove her knickers. I tell you, I put on so much weight. I took her out to lunch every day.’
Ramon smiled. He couldn’t see the faces of his friends but he could feel them enjoying themselves. This was how the first day should have gone.
‘What about you, Ramon?’ asked Neil. ‘Don’t tell me you never played hide the sausage with your staff.’
‘I’m South American. We have siestas every afternoon. What do you think?’
‘What about you, Milos?’
‘I have only slept with one woman in my life.’
‘What?’
‘You heard me, Neil.’
His admission stunned his friends into silence. Their smiles faded into looks of awe and disbelief.
‘Only one woman?’ said Lucio incredulously.
