Lawson's Bend

by Nicole Hurley-Moore

  Henny sat with her back leaning against a ghost gum, its dappled shade giving some relief from the sun. In the distance she could hear squealing as some of her friends splashed about in the shallows.

  ‘See, I said it would be a great day,’ she said, looking sideways at her best friend, Georgie. They were as different as they could be. Henny was slim and athletic, a realist with a sense of adventure. Outwardly, Georgie was small and there was a sense of fragility about her. With her blonde hair and expressive blue eyes, she was the type of pretty that belonged in a storybook. Henny could have quite easily been jealous of her but she never was.

  ‘I never doubted it,’ Georgie answered with a smile.

  Henny and Georgie had been friends longer than either of them could remember. According to their mothers the friendship had started back in the maternity ward. Henny always doubted the story that two babies born a day apart bonded on the spot, but it was true that that was where her mum had met Heather Sykes. The mothers had become friends and somewhere along the way so did Henny and Georgie.

  ‘So are you ever going to do something about Dan?’ Henny asked.

  Georgie shrugged her shoulders. ‘I think it’s a bit late for that, don’t you? I mean, school is over and we’re all shooting off in different directions.’

  ‘Geez, you’ve been circling each other for nearly the entire year. Maybe you need some closure.’

  Georgie grinned back. ‘Maybe, or maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. I want it to be perfect and I don’t think starting something on our last day together is very clever, do you?’

  ‘It depends on what you want, I suppose. No relationship is perfect—we’re humans and we screw things up. It’s just the way it is. We’re too big to believe in fairytales.’

  ‘Maybe. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want a knight in shining armour. I’ve waited this long—why not a bit longer?’

  ‘Armour tarnishes,’ Henny said as she closed her eyes and tilted her head against the tree.

  ‘Come on, Henny, just because it didn’t work out with you and Ethan doesn’t mean—’

  ‘Yeah, let’s not ruin the day by bringing him up.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  Henny opened her eyes. ‘It doesn’t matter. Ethan and I have been done for months now. Everyone makes mistakes—I guess he was mine.’

  ‘I just meant that even though the two of you ended badly, it doesn’t mean that all men are shitty and that you’ll never fall in love again.’

  ‘You’re right. But the opposite side of that is you’re going to be disappointed if you want perfection—because it doesn’t exist.’

  ‘Even if I was tempted to hook up with Dan, we both know that nothing will come of it.’

  ‘Does something have to?’

  ‘I guess not, but then maybe I’d feel like I was selling myself short—and him.’

  ‘Are you saying that having sex is selling yourself short? Because I don’t think—’

  Georgie shook her head, cutting Henny off. ‘No, not at all. I didn’t mean it like that. All I was saying was that for me, maybe this isn’t the time. Listen, I’m not trying to sound like an innocent little virgin who’s judging, because I’m not—well, I might be a virgin but you know what I mean. You thought that you were in love with Ethan—it’s not your fault he turned out to be a complete dickhead.’

  ‘Yeah, he was, wasn’t he,’ Henny said with a grin. ‘Pretty to look at but that’s about all. Well, we live and we learn. Perhaps next time I won’t get swept away by a handsome face.’ ‘We can only hope.’

  ‘Hey, you’re making it sound like I’m shallow,’ Henny laughed. ‘Hmmm, maybe I am.’

  ‘Nah, you’re just a bit of a sucker for a pretty face and a hot bod. We all have our weaknesses. Besides, you’re brilliant and one day the right guy is going to see it,’ Georgie said as she leant in and bumped her friend’s shoulder with her own. ‘I’m going to have a swim—want to come?’

  ‘No, I’m good here.’ Henny glanced down to the waterline. ‘Maybe a bit later when it’s not so crowded.’

  Georgie looked down to the water. Ethan and his mates were clowning around in the shallows. ‘Oh, I see what you mean. Okay, I’ll be back in a tick.’

  That would be the last proper conversation she ever had with Georgie. After Georgie got back from her swim, they were joined by other classmates. The afternoon seemed to melt away all too quickly and soon the sun had begun to dip behind the hills.

  Up a steep incline from the pebbly sand that ran along this section of the reservoir there was a public toilet block, an outside shower and a couple of gas barbecues shaded by a handful of gum trees. On the other side of the trees was a fairly flat piece of ground, which was where everyone had decided to pitch their tents. Henny doubted there would be much sleeping going on. This was the last time she and her schoolmates would all be together. She imagined most of the night would be talking, with a few tears and maybe the odd hook-up.

  As twilight started to fall, a couple of cars drove up to the camp site. Henny sent a silent prayer of thanks that neither of them belonged to her mother. She saw Charlene Nichols sitting next to her on an old fallen log, her face flushing as her father climbed out of the first car. Because let’s face it, there’s nothing worse than an embarrassing parent who’s also the local cop.

  ‘Dad, what are you doing here?’ Charlie asked as she hurried over to the car. ‘You promised that you wouldn’t check up on us.’

  ‘I’m not,’ he said with a bright smile as he yanked open the car door and revealed a stack of pizza boxes. ‘Thought you’d like some dinner. And if you don’t fancy this then Patrick’s mum brought enough fish and chips to feed you all for a week,’ he said as he gestured at the brown car that had pulled up behind him.

  Charlie didn’t seem a hundred-per-cent convinced that her dad was telling the whole truth. Henny stepped forward. ‘Wow, thanks, Mr Nichols, that’s fantastic.’

  ‘No worries, Henny,’ he said as he handed her a couple of the pizza boxes. ‘There’s extra soft drink and water in the back as well.’

  ‘Thanks, Dad,’ Charlie said as she grabbed the rest of the pizzas. ‘But you’re not going to hang around, are you?’

  ‘No, I promised. I’ll pick you up in the morning but ring me if you need anything. Hey, Henny, keep an eye on Charlie, will you?’

  ‘Geez, Dad!’

  ‘Are you kidding? If anything it’ll be the rest of us needing Charlie to look out for us,’ Henny said with a laugh. ‘She’s the most capable out of the lot of us.’

  ‘Yeah, I guess she is, isn’t she?’ Sergeant Nichols grinned. ‘Sorry, love, just being my normal over-protective self.’

  Charlie rolled her eyes. ‘Just go home, Dad, and stop embarrassing me.’

  ‘Alright, alright—I’m going. Love you, pumpkin.’

  Charlie’s face flushed. ‘Dad,’ she said in a warning voice, but just when Henny thought she was going tell him off again she muttered, ‘Love you too.’

  The girls stood holding the pizzas as they watched Charlie’s father grab a couple of bags filled with soft drinks and put them on the ground before he got back in his car and drove away.

  ‘Leave it to Dad to always overstep the line,’ Charlie said as she raised her hand and waved.

  Henny gave her a nudge. ‘Well, I guess that happens when you grow up in a household of boys.’

  ‘Tell me about it. My brothers are almost as bad. I swear they all think I’m still twelve,’ Charlie said as they turned and headed up to the picnic tables by the barbecue.

  ‘But it was still nice of him to bring the pizzas,’ Henny said.

  ‘Yeah, I suppose,’ Charlie said begrudgingly.

  ‘Come on, let’s eat,’ Henny said. ‘And after that, I might swim out to the platform—wanna come?’

  Charlie looked at the old wooden platform and shook her head. ‘No way. Ethan and some of the others have been bombing everyone out there most of the afternoon. They swamped Gemma
before, I think she swallowed half the res—idiots.’

  ‘Yep, they are, but they have to come in sometime to eat. Maybe that’s my chance.’

  Charlie shrugged as she turned and started to follow Henny towards the nearest table. ‘I swear that someone is going to get hurt. Ethan and the others are acting like they are in the last stages of a semi-final.’

  ‘Well, I’ll see how it goes. Hopefully they’ll settle down after they’ve eaten.’ Henny put the stack of pizza boxes on the table. ‘You want to call everyone? I’ll just go and grab the drinks.’

  Charlie nodded before she called out, ‘Alright, you lot—dinner is here.’

  Henny walked back to where Charlie’s dad had left the shopping bags. She had her head down and watched where she was putting her feet—the lack of rain had made the ground beneath the chip bark dry and dusty, which in turn made it slippery underfoot, especially when you were walking downhill. She sensed that the white plastic bags were just ahead but she kept concentrating on her footwork so she didn’t end up tripping like Anne Holt had about half an hour before. But just as she reached bags, someone else picked them up.

  ‘It’s okay, Henny—I’ve got them.’

  Henny looked up and into Stephen Drake’s eyes. ‘Oh, thanks, but I can do it.’

  ‘I’m sure you can but I’ve got them now, so where do you want them?’

  Henny gave him a smile. She’d never really got to know him, which was a shame as they had been in the same English class for the past two years. They had been in different crowds but in this moment she regretted not making an effort during the year. It was probably too late now with school finished and everyone embarking on the next stage of their lives. Stephen always seemed quiet but nice—not at all rambunctious and attention-seeking like others in the group, Ethan coming to mind. ‘Um, I guess on that table with the food,’ she said, gesturing over her shoulder.

  ‘Okay, lead the way,’ he said as he fell into step with her.

  ‘Listen Stephen, I’m sorry we never really hung out together.’

  ‘That’s okay—we had different interests. Besides in the last term I think we only had one class together—literature,’ he said as he gave her a sidelong glance.

  ‘Yeah, that’s right. I remember, you usually sat behind me.’ ‘I liked the view.’

  Henny peeked up through her lashes at Stephen and caught a smile. ‘So, what are you doing next year?’

  ‘Helping Dad on our farm. He fell off a ladder a couple of months ago when he was fixing the water tower and banged himself up pretty bad, broke his leg and a couple of other things. It’s taking a bit longer to get back to his old self so I’ve deferred my course for a year to help out.’

  ‘Sorry to hear that. Are you disappointed?’

  ‘Maybe a little, but it’s okay. It’ll still be waiting for me next year. How about you?’

  ‘Off to uni in Melbourne.’

  ‘That’s great. Well, I hope—’

  ‘Oh, thanks for lugging that all the way up the hill,’ Charlie interrupted as she grabbed one of the bags off Stephen and dumped it on the table. She turned around and tilted her head in the direction of the half a dozen guys wading through the shallows towards the bank. ‘You’d better grab some pizza before that lot eat it.’

  ‘Thanks, I will but—’ started Stephen.

  Charlie grabbed Henny’s hand and tugged her away from the table. ‘Listen, if you want to swim out to the platform I’d do it now. The Neanderthals are coming in to eat.’

  ‘Charlie, they’re not all—’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, I know. A couple of Ethan’s mates are okay but you know that he rubs me up the wrong way. Besides, I still haven’t forgiven him for treating you the way he did.’

  ‘Have you been talking to Georgie?’

  ‘Maybe, but let’s face it—Ethan is a complete jerk and that’s putting it mildly. Go on, have your swim. I’ll put some food aside for you.’

  ‘You know you have the whole bossy-like-my-mum thing going on, don’t you?’

  ‘What can I say, I learnt from the best. Go. Otherwise those idiots will be back in and half drown you.’

  ‘Alright, alright. Thanks,’ Henny said as she turned and walked quickly down the hill and towards the pebbly shore of the res.

  Chapter Four

  Henny stood on the edge of the old quarry and stared down at its rocky and jagged bottom. It was a remnant from the town’s past stretching back to the gold-rush era and had left its mark on the landscape, as had the long-abandoned diggings scattered around the area. She looked up at the dirt track that snaked around the perimeter of the quarry before winding its way through the thick bush and on to Killop Reservoir a couple of kilometres away.

  It was quiet here; only the sound of the breeze whispering through the gum leaves and the faint twitter of small birds. As if on cue, a tiny blue wren perched momentarily on a tangle of blackberries growing around the base of a clump of trees. The sight brought the twitch of a smile to Henny’s lips, the first since her mother’s funeral five days ago.

  Henny had spent the past few days sorting through Jess’s things. It had been difficult and more often than not she ended up crying as she packed up boxes to donate to the Salvos. She reached up and touched the long tangerine silk scarf that was draped around her neck. It was one of the items that she couldn’t part with and the faint scent of her mother’s perfume still lingered in it. Henny breathed in the spicy notes and looked back down to the bottom of the quarry, the exact spot where they had found her mother’s body.

  It still didn’t seem right—at least, Henny couldn’t come to terms with the fact that her mother’s death was an accident, a stupid, pointless accident. Henny sighed. The police were probably right. The drought had dried the baked dirt path and given it powdery edges. Her mum must have been running too close to the edge and slipped. There was no one to blame but Henny wished there was. She lingered for a moment longer before she swung her small black backpack over her shoulder, glanced up again at the dirt track and started walking towards the res. Might as well face all her ghosts at once, she thought, as she followed the trail through the bush. It probably wasn’t a great idea but, then again, the alternative was to return to the house and continue boxing up her mother’s life. Maybe this afternoon, looking over the dark waters of the res was easier than that.

  As she walked, she tried to think about anything other than imagining her mum’s last few minutes.

  ‘Stop it,’ she mumbled under her breath. ‘It won’t help, and it certainly won’t bring her back.’ If she kept thinking about it she would enviably begin to play the ‘what if’ game. What if she had returned to Lawson’s Bend three months ago? What if she’d never left? What if she’d convinced her mum to move down to Melbourne?

  Henny took a deep breath and tried to empty her mind. It didn’t matter what she said or thought—her mum was gone and nothing would alter that fact. She continued on, her shoulders occasionally brushing against the small saplings that encroached on the path.

  The track narrowed as the bush tried to reclaim what had once belonged to it. It had been a long time since Henny had come this way and from the state of the track she doubted that anyone else had either. She leant for a moment against a large ghost gum and grabbed her water bottle out of her backpack. She guessed that Killop Reservoir was still about twenty minutes away and walking in the late afternoon sun was thirsty work. Somewhere above her a magpie let out a maudlin cry; Henny looked up but couldn’t make out where the bird was. At least it wasn’t breeding season so she didn’t have to worry about it swooping her.

  The thought brought a smile to her face. Riding her bike to school as a kid, Henny would pick up Georgie outside her house and both of them would pedal as fast as they could past old Mr Henshaw’s place. The farm had a dozen tall pine trees planted along its boundary fence where magpies would nest. One time a maggie swooped down and hit her in the back of the head; Henny had never really appreciated her bright-
pink bike helmet until that very moment. She could recall Georgie’s scream of fright and her own nervous laughter that hid the terror she felt as they rode like the clappers down the road.

  Henny took a sip from the water bottle before stuffing it back in her bag. Old memories, good memories from a time of innocence and when summers seemed to last forever. She hoisted the backpack on her shoulder and continued her journey.

  The afternoon was still hot when Henny emerged from the bush above the picnic area next to the reservoir. She held her hand up to shield her eyes from the glare of the sun hitting the dark water. It was still beautiful—no matter what sad memories this place held, you couldn’t take that away from it. Nestled between gently rolling hills, at the moment the land was dry but it would green up pretty quickly as soon as the autumn rains came. Henny looked across to the far bank dotted with clusters of weeping willows and poplar trees. Quite a distance to her right the old boat ramp spanned out over the res, and to her left Henny could see the small island jutting out of the water. The vegetation on the island was thick and dominated on one side by an ancient weeping willow, its leaves drooping down and trailing into the cool waters. The family of herons were still there, probably a new generation now.

  She wandered down to the bark-chipped picnic area. A couple of gas barbecues under a metal canopy were joined by three concrete tables and benches as well as a metal rubbish bin on a shonky stand. About twenty metres away stood a toilet block that looked ancient to her now. Henny continued past the barbecues, the uneven bark crunching under her footfalls. A sense of melancholy hung in the air. This place was meant to have friends and family laughing and eating, with children running around and splashing in the water. Instead it seemed silent, sad and forgotten.