by Di Morrissey
‘Where are you staying?’
‘I have a room in the single men’s quarters but for the next couple of nights I’ll doss down with my boys at their camp. Keep the lubras at bay for as long as I can. They’re probably fed up with Snowy’s boys and looking for fresh blood. My fellows are good blokes but temptation can win out. See you round, eh.’
He left and by the time she’d changed and slipped into her bed, the boys were sleeping soundly.
The boys shot out after breakfast to see Rob start to cull the cleanskins, calves and bulls. They’d promised to be in school by 9 am. Lorna wasn’t up, so Sally decided to go for a ride. She took Dancer in the opposite direction to the calls from the cattle yards and headed towards the river. She trotted beneath the paperbark trees, keeping away from the thick undergrowth that fringed the river bank. She still had a dread of crocodiles. The morning air was fresh and she was glad of the solitude. She was always surrounded by people, and she decided she needed this time to herself. She’d been thinking about home, her family, Sean, and realised she was a little homesick. She turned away from the river into a stretch of long grass and broke into a canter. As the grass thickened she reined Dancer in and at that instant something rose from the clumps of Mitchell grass, startling the horse who pranced sideways.
Some creature leapt at them, half man, half beast.
Then Sally realised it was a tall emaciated black man daubed in mud and some kind of grease. He was dressed only in a loin cloth. A putrid smell hit her as he gave her a leering grin showing a few yellow teeth. His hair, plaited in a long braid almost to his feet, was also smothered in dried clay or mud. He looked evil and, feeling frightened, Sally kicked Dancer and bolted for the homestead. Her heart was pounding and she rushed into the house and found the boys in the kitchen with Lizzie.
‘What’s the matter?’ asked Tommy.
She started to describe the weird man she saw, but before she’d finished they had all started laughing.
‘Mr Stinky!’ they cried.
‘Who? What is he?’
Even Lizzie was chuckling. She rolled her eyes. ‘He old pella teach ’em up girlies.’
‘Ask Mum,’ mumbled Ian. ‘We’re going to the schoolhouse.’
‘What are they talking about, Lizzie?’
The woman thrust her hips back and forth suggestively and laughed some more as Sally looked embarrassed and hurried from the room.
At the morning break Lorna took her aside and explained about Mr Stinky.
‘I know how you felt. He still makes my skin crawl. He knows he’s not welcome here, but he often turns up at the camp.’ She paused then went on. ‘I don’t approve, but it’s their way and John says we mustn’t interfere.’
‘So what does he do?’
‘The young girls approaching puberty are sent to him to learn the sexual arts,’ said Lorna primly. ‘And the boys are sometimes sent off with the old women.’
Sally couldn’t get past the idea of young girls being sent to have sex with the strange old man. ‘That’s shocking. He seems such a creep. Yuk!’
Lorna shrugged. ‘There’s never been any trouble. The girls come back and are married off. They all seem quite happy with the arrangement. He obviously doesn’t . . . hurt them.’
Sally shook her head. ‘It’s immoral, shouldn’t be allowed.’
‘By whose law? They live by their laws. We’ve learned that if we try to make them live totally by our ways, things fall apart and there are more fights. We try to find the balance between our world and theirs with as little disruption as possible.’ She sighed. ‘But there’s always some damn drama happening.’
This was the nearest Sally had heard Lorna come to swearing. ‘Well, I hope I don’t run into him again.’
Lorna rose, sounding tired. ‘He’s harmless, I suppose. He’s not allowed near the camp, they walk out to meet him. They must have some arrangement.’
Sally went back to the schoolhouse wondering how much the boys knew about the details and why John tolerated Mr Stinky. Anyone Monroe regarded as a troublemaker was given short shrift at Barra Creek.
Lorna left the station with a minimum of fuss. She hugged the boys, who stayed behind to finish a project in the schoolhouse while Sally drove her out to the mail plane. She hadn’t been privy to Lorna’s farewell to her husband, who was down at the cattle yards. But they slowed as they passed the crowded stockyards and John, sitting on top of a railing, gave them a wave and turned back to the action.
Donny brought the little plane to a halt, jumped down and opened the rear door, pulling out the mail bag, then sauntered over to them.
‘All ready, Lorna?’
‘Absolutely.’ She looked happy, the tension Sally had observed in her all morning was slipping away.
‘G’day, Sally, long time no see. Got all your instructions?’
‘I hope so. Everything will be fine, Lorna. Don’t worry.’
‘I’m not going to. I’m glad you’re here, Sally.’ She reached over and kissed her cheek. ‘Look after my boys.’
‘All four of ’em, eh?’ grinned Donny, taking Lorna’s bag. ‘See you next week, Sal.’
‘See you, Donny.’
‘Have a good trip, Lorna. Enjoy David Jones!’
She watched Donny settle Lorna into her seat as if she were a piece of fragile china.
The plane was out of sight before she got back to the homestead where Monroe was sitting on the verandah, rolling a cigarette.
‘Let me know if the kids give you any strife, Sally.’
‘They’ll be good, John. I’d better see if they’ve finished their sheets.’ Sally walked to the schoolhouse feeling the weight of responsibility settle on her shoulders.
Chapter Nine
DESPITE HER RARE APPEARANCES outside the homestead gardens, Lorna’s absence was subtly felt about Barra Creek. Within days there was a general slackness among the women, and John bawled at the men louder, more aggressively and more often. He was also drinking heavily. In the schoolhouse the children played up more frequently than usual, especially little Alice. One morning she refused to sit at a desk and draw, and instead she crawled around the floor and sat by Sally’s feet. The smoko bell rang out and when Sally went to slip on her shoes, which she always kicked off under her desk, Alice had disappeared with them.
‘Ginger, you go find that Alice. Bring back my shoes.’
Giggling, he ran off and Sally waited while the boys went to the house for morning tea.
She was planning the afternoon’s worksheets when she heard a step and Rob appeared in the doorway.
‘I passed a couple of scallywags playing catchings with these. Don’t walk around bare foot, there are scorpions and hookworms.’
‘I know. That’s why I’m sitting here and not tucking into scones. But thanks.’ She took the gold sandals that she’d bought in Surfers Paradise.
He gave a small smile. ‘A bit fancy for out here. Do you have good boots?’
‘I’ve been borrowing some riding boots. I’ve ordered some sandshoes from the catalogue and my boots are on the way from home. I hadn’t planned on wearing them in London.’
‘You got a bit sidetracked, I hear.’
‘Yes. My girlfriend had to go back home to New Zealand instead of going overseas with me. This seemed like a good idea. I can always go to England,’ she said, putting on her shoes.
They walked towards the house. ‘So, how are you finding it way out here?’ he asked.
‘I like it. I can’t believe how I’ve settled in so quickly. The boys tested me at first but we get on really well now.’
‘They’re good kids. John comes down a bit hard on Ian sometimes. But that’s the cross you bear being the oldest son.’ There was something in his tone, a slight edge that made Sally glance at him and notice the set of his mouth.
‘Are you the oldest son?’
‘Yeah. My dad and I don’t see eye to eye about a lot of things. I took off to work for myself. They think I’m wasting
their expensive education. I’m a King’s boy too,’ he added. ‘But I do all right. And I like the lifestyle, especially being my own boss.’
‘Will you go back home eventually?’
‘I’m saving for my own place. My brothers are running our station in the Territory. I don’t really know where I’ll end up.’
They stepped onto the verandah and saw John Monroe banging around in the kitchen as Snowy, Harry, Dougie and Gloria came through the screen door.
‘Don’t be looking for bloody scones. The lubras have walked off the job,’ he snapped. ‘It’s tea and a biscuit.’
‘Lazy bitches. Do youse want me to whip up some scones?’ Gloria asked.
‘No fear.’ John knew Lorna wouldn’t want the runners’ woman mucking about in her kitchen. ‘Lizzie can make a cake for this arvo.’
‘Things are falling apart a bit,’ said Sally as she and Rob walked into the dining room. ‘I’d better keep an eye on the lubras. The trouble is they don’t take a lot of notice of me because I don’t speak pidgin.’ She poured them each a cup of tea.
‘John will haul them over the coals. You’d better chase them about doing the housework and the washing. The boys can translate for you.’
‘Lorna doesn’t like them speaking pidgin.’
‘If you ask them to do it, that’s different. They know not to let on to their mother.’
There was a burst of raucous laughter from Gloria and Rob rolled his eyes.
‘She’s one tough bird. They’re due to move back out to the boundary in a day or so.’ He hesitated as if debating whether to say anything or not. ‘Gloria might get a bit out of control, especially when Lorna’s away.’
‘We’ve already had one blue with her,’ said Sally. ‘In fact, I’m surprised John lets her come into the house.’
‘They can all drink, that’s for sure.’ He drained his cup. ‘I’ll see you at dinner.’
Rob picked up his hat and went outside. John was talking with the two bore runners in the kitchen, they seemed to be making plans. There had been a lot of noise and laughter coming from the single men’s quarters at night and Sally thought she’d heard John’s voice. He was always up first but was looking very seedy and hadn’t bothered to shave for a few days. He still dressed in his spotless white T-shirts and ironed shorts, though. Sally went into the garden to look for the boys.
‘Ian, can you find the kids from the camp and tell them to send Lizzie and Betsy up to the house? They haven’t done their work today.’
‘Mum won’t let us go down to the blacks’ camp.’
‘You can get the big kids to run a message. Lizzie and the girls had better get up here before your dad does his block.’
‘Dad can handle it,’ said Ian.
Sally decided not to press the point. Ian had his stubborn look and tight expression that invariably led to an argument. ‘Fine then. You boys go back to the schoolhouse. I’m going for the mail.’
‘Can we come?’ pleaded Tommy.
‘Not this week, you’re behind because of the time out at the stock camp. Next week when you’ve caught up you can give Donny your school work to post.’ She tried to sound firm. Again, without Lorna to back her up she was being challenged by the boys.
Donny gave her a thumbs up as he jumped down from the plane.
‘Here you go. What you’ve been waiting for, parcels from home. Two big cartons.’
Sally saw her father’s writing and winced at the row of stamps. ‘Dad must have had a fit at how much these cost to send.’
‘You’ve got your saddle and all your gear now.’
‘Looks like it.’ She felt suddenly homesick.
‘How are things back at the ol’ ranch?’
‘Slacking off. Since Lorna’s been away I’ve had a bit of a hard time keeping the house girls in line. John drinks a lot and disappears after dinner. I reckon he goes and drinks with the bore runners and that Gloria.’
‘She’s trouble, always has been. She banged around the Kimberley and the Territory before landing in a bit of hot water and ended up in the ’Curry. Then she picked up those runner blokes –’
‘Dougie and Harry.’
‘And she left Cloncurry with them. Odd arrangement, a threesome. Guess none of them are choosy.’
‘What sort of trouble did she get into?’
‘She was known for being light fingered and she bashed a young bloke. Near killed him.’
‘What for, did he make a pass at her?’
Donny laughed. ‘That’d be the day she’d carry on about that! Nah, he called her an old slut and a few other choice words, said she’d stolen his wallet. She took offence and slammed him with a broken beer bottle. Flying Doc said he was cut up pretty bad.’
‘No wonder Lorna doesn’t like her in the house.’
‘And how are you getting on with Rob?’ he asked as he carried the mail bag to the Land Rover.
‘He’s been great. He’s really nice. The boys love him.’
Donny cast her a sideways glance and said casually, ‘And you? He’s a decent fellow, hard working, knows his job, well brought up, smart, bit of a loner. Seems like he could be a good mate – or more.’
Sally tried not to smile. ‘You think so? I thought he looked a bit of a hooligan when I first met him at the stock camp. Lorna tidied him up. They seem very friendly.’
‘She’s got a lot of time for him. He treats her as a lady, and she’s a very lonely woman.’ Donny pulled out his cigarettes. ‘Did you bring morning tea as you promised?’
‘You bet. I have a Thermos of tea and some fruit cake,’ said Sally. ‘No scones, Lizzie didn’t turn up this morning.’
‘They’ll take advantage where they can. Try to crack the whip, Sally. Lorna has a lot of confidence you can manage things.’
‘My job has expanded a bit,’ said Sally. ‘But I don’t mind helping where I can.’
‘It’s a way of life out here, Sal. People have to rely on each other. Lorna is very happy you’re here. She thinks you do a good job with the boys and she enjoys your company.’
‘She tells you a lot,’ said Sally.
‘Ah, most of the ladies I drop in on need a chance to bend a friendly ear.’
‘You’re not a mail man, you’re a flying father confessor!’
He laughed. ‘I s’pose I am a bit. Tell you what, why don’t you take a couple of hours off next week? We’ll go for a proper picnic. I know a great place down the track.’
She looked a bit dubious. ‘I suppose I could. The boys could stay with Rob, he’s offered to show them roping calves or something.’
‘It’s a date then. You bring the food and your swimmers. There’s a billabong where we can swim.’
‘It sounds lovely. You’re on.’
He stubbed out his cigarette and handed her the mug. ‘I’m proud of you, Sally. Looks like you’ll make it to the end of your contract.’
‘I’m not a quitter.’
‘And then what, eh?’ He gave her a shrewd look.
‘Crikey, that’s a long way off. Do you know what you’ll be doing in say, eighteen months’ time?’
‘I’d like to have my own plane. Be in love. Might even leave the bush and try for my commercial licence.’
‘Really?’
‘We all have dreams, Sal. See you next week. I’ll bring some drinks, fresh fruit. Don’t forget – food, towel, swimmers . . . or you can forget them if you like.’
‘Fat chance. See you, Donny.’
‘Take care, kiddo.’
The boys ran out of the schoolhouse to see what mail had arrived and Marty demanded Sally open her packages. She’d wanted to go through everything by herself but the boys’ curiosity was infectious. They brought the parcels into the living room and Sally pulled them open. She put the letters from her mother and sister to one side, then pulled out the jar of Paul Duval face cream with a note from Emily Mitchell: ‘Look after your skin in that dreadful Australian sun.’ Next came her riding boots and hard hat, wh
ich made the boys giggle. There were the clothes she’d asked for and a few new ones – blouses, skirts and a nightdress chosen by her mother as being appropriate. Sally just sighed. In the second box was her saddle and when she pulled it out and unwrapped the soft blanket protecting the light hunting saddle, the boys screamed with laughter. John Monroe walked in and stopped to see what all the fuss was about.
‘That wouldn’t fit on a bloody jack rabbit!’ he said, looking at the saddle.
‘It’s too small even for Marty!’
‘How’d you be on that all day!’
‘I’m glad you think it’s so funny,’ snapped Sally.
‘Does it make the horse go faster?’ said Tommy, laughing.
‘I know! We’ll enter her in the races at the ’Curry!’ Monroe slapped his knee then looked around. ‘Say, that’s not a silly idea, y’know.’
‘They have ladies’ races, don’t they, Dad?’ asked Ian.
Sally stood up and gathered an armful of her belongings. ‘I might just show the lot of you one day. Any time you want to race, let me know. See how well I can do!’
‘How about tomorrow?’ shouted John Monroe.
‘All right, you’re on.’ She stomped along the verandah and sat on her bed to read the letters. As well as the mail from home she’d received a letter from Sean. It was a sweet letter, he missed her and asked when she’d get a holiday as maybe he could meet her somewhere. The idea sounded very appealing, but she knew her holidays were a long way off. Perhaps Sean could come out here. No, bad idea. She re-read the letter, savouring the sexy and romantic bits, then read the letters from her mother and sister.
By lunchtime the word was out that Sally on Dancer with her stupid little saddle was going to race young Ian on his father’s big bay gelding, Shooter. Sally hadn’t taken the suggestion of the race very seriously but as she walked into lunch Rob said to her quietly, ‘Are you sure about this race idea?’
‘Oh. I guess so. I mean it’s no big deal. Bit of a run down to the river and back or something.’
‘Ian on his dad’s horse. It’s creating quite a diversion, bets are being taken.’
