The Audrey of the Outback Collection

by Christine Harris

  She wished her feet would move faster.

  The empty potato bag caught on spiky spinifex. Audrey tugged, but it was snagged. She let go of the bag and ran on without it. There wasn’t time to unhook it.

  Stumpy pounded along behind her.

  Her chest began to burn. A stitch nagged at her left side, under her ribs.

  She didn’t know whether to head home or go to the cubby.

  But the dust was rising near the house. And if she ran towards Janet, she could accidentally show the men where Janet was hiding. They might see Audrey, or her footprints.

  She curved towards the house.

  Her family didn’t know anything about Janet, so they wouldn’t have to lie. Audrey was glad now that she’d kept the secret.

  Dad wouldn’t be scared by men who were dressed up like pet lizards. But if he argued with the policemen, they might put him in gaol.

  Audrey tripped, but kept on her feet.

  Home. She had to get home.

  Twenty

  Audrey shoved back the door and belted into the kitchen.

  Mum sat at the table, cutting potatoes. She looked up, startled. ‘What’s the matter?’ Her voice sounded breathless, as though she’d been the one running.

  ‘Who was … here?’ Audrey’s chest heaved as she tried to speak and breathe at the same time.

  ‘The new mailman. In a truck.’

  Audrey’s legs trembled and she couldn’t stop them. ‘What did the mailman look like?’

  Mum looked confused. ‘He was of small build, with … unusual ears.’

  ‘Why were his ears unusual?’

  ‘Well, they were large.’ Mum made a face, then she whispered, ‘He looked like a mouse actually. His head was small and his face was wrinkled. Yet his ears were … flappy. I can’t think of a more polite word. I think our new mailman was born with the wrong ears.’

  ‘Did he have buttons?’ Audrey ran one finger from her tummy up to her chin.

  ‘I didn’t notice. He wore braces over a shirt. So I suppose the shirt must have had buttons. But they didn’t stand out.’

  Audrey flumped onto a chair. Braces and a shirt were not how Janet described the policemen. They wore jackets with lots of buttons. The visitor had not been a buttoned policeman. Janet was safe—for now.

  ‘What’s so important about buttons?’ asked Mum.

  Audrey rested her elbows on the wooden kitchen table. ‘Buttons can tell you a lot about a person.’

  ‘Is that so?’ Her mum resumed cutting the potatoes into smaller pieces. Her knife clumped onto the wooden chopping board. It had the same regular beat as Dad’s axe when he was splitting logs.

  ‘Too many buttons could mean you’re a show-off. And if you did all those buttons up, you’d have a face like this.’ Audrey pushed her lips into a tight knot.

  ‘If you have such a distaste for buttons, then perhaps I should stop calling you my “bright little button”.’

  Audrey smiled at her mum. ‘But I’m only one button, so that’s all right. And words sound different in your mouth because you love me.’

  The kitchen door opened and Dad came in, with cabbages from the vegetable patch in his hands. His boots were powdered with red dust and his nails looked browner than usual.

  ‘Do you want to know about buttons too?’ Mum raised one eyebrow.

  Dad looked suspiciously from Audrey to Mum. He half-closed his left eye as though that would make him see better. ‘You two look like you’re up to something.’

  ‘It’s all right, Dad,’ said Audrey. ‘Mum loves you too. Fair dinkum, she does. She always says you look nice in that shirt. Even though you wear it every day, even when you’re all sweaty like a horse!’ She grinned at him, happy that he was in the kitchen and not on his way to gaol.

  Dad dumped the cabbages on the bench.

  ‘Got animals to feed,’ he muttered and retreated towards the kitchen door. He turned his head to wink at Audrey. ‘I’ll be back in time to change my shirt for dinner.’

  ‘What’s so important about buttons?’ asked Mum.

  Twenty-one

  Douglas crawled from the sitting room into the kitchen. ‘Broom, vrrrrrrr, vrrrr.’

  Audrey held out her arms.

  Douglas scrambled onto her lap. He kicked her leg on the way up, but she didn’t complain. He’d already forgotten about how upset he’d been earlier when she’d left him behind. She fluffed up his fringe. It was stuck to his forehead with sweat. Then she gave him a big hug.

  ‘Dontsquashmeguts!’ His little face went bright pink.

  ‘What was that?’ Mum put down the knife and wiped her hands on her green apron.

  ‘He said not to hug him so tight.’ Audrey didn’t include the word ‘guts’. Her mum had strong ideas about which words were not suitable for children.

  Douglas wriggled free and slipped to the floor. He got back down on his hands and knees and resumed being a car. Although, since the mailman had come in a truck, Douglas was probably being a truck. Which was like a car, but noisier.

  Mum stood up and fetched the earthenware jug from the side bench. She brought it to the table, took off the lace doily which kept out bugs and poured water into a glass. ‘Here. Your face is as red as a beetroot.’

  Audrey picked up the glass and drank till it was empty. She felt the water sloshing down into her tummy. Audrey wiped the back of her hand across her top lip. ‘I ran really fast when I saw the dust. Bet the new mailman didn’t say peanuts like Mr Akbar.’

  ‘No, he didn’t.’ Mum refilled Audrey’s glass. ‘Drink a little slower this time. If you keep going at that rate, you could drown.’

  Audrey sipped at the second glass.

  ‘There are two letters for you. One from Jimmy and the other from Mrs Paterson. I put them on your bed.’

  Letters didn’t come that often. Usually, Audrey could hardly wait to tear open the envelopes and read them. Today, she had more urgent things on her mind.

  ‘I told Bloke to come for tea,’ said Audrey, to remind Mum that she’d been on an errand for her.

  Mum took the water jug back to the bench. ‘You and Bloke must’ve had an exciting time. You’ve been gone for quite a while …’

  ‘Me and Bloke found a honeybag and we were discussening life and things.’

  ‘That would explain how long it took you. Life is a pretty big topic to discuss.’ Mum rubbed her round tummy with one hand. With the apron tied around her waist, her stomach looked even bigger. Audrey wondered if the baby could hear her voice. Mum pulled out the chair next to Audrey and sank into it with a grunt.

  ‘Is the baby getting heavy?’

  ‘It certainly is. I’ve only got one good leg and it’s carrying around two of us.’

  Douglas vroomed his way around the kitchen table. He knocked into the meat safe and it wobbled. Water splashed onto the mud floor.

  ‘Careful, Dougie,’ said Mum, without taking her eyes off Audrey.

  ‘Bloke and me were talking about … lies. What is a lie, really?’

  ‘Audrey, do you ever think of small questions that have simple answers?’

  ‘Every question is big if you don’t have an answer. It won’t go away until you know.’

  A tiny smile started on Mum’s lips. ‘A lie is when you say something that isn’t true.’

  ‘If you believe something, does that make it true?’ Audrey sipped at her water like a bird. She felt like gulping. But her mum was paying close attention and she expected sips.

  ‘No, it doesn’t make it true. But we can only do and say what we think is right. We try. So when we put our heads down on our pillows at night, we feel we did our best for that day, and we sleep soundly.’

  ‘I believe in Stumpy, but some people don’t.’

  ‘Audrey, you listen with your heart. Some people can’t do that. And they don’t want to. Listening with your heart makes everything loud and, sometimes, difficult.’ Mum took Audrey’s fingers in hers. ‘Oh, but the things you see … wonderful
things.’

  Audrey let go of Mum’s hand and picked up the glass in both hands. ‘If a troll was after me, would you lie so it couldn’t find me?’

  ‘I’d rather not lie,’ said Mum. ‘But I suppose if I had to, to save you from a troll, then I would. Trolls, I’m told, are quite mean. But if I did lie, you’d look at me differently after that.’

  ‘I would?’

  ‘You’d be looking at someone who’d lied. Maybe you wouldn’t quite trust me any more.’

  ‘But you saved me from getting gobbled by a troll!’

  ‘Yes, and that would be worth giving something up.’ Mum sighed. She had tired lines around her eyes. Her cheeks were two bright red patches. ‘Of course, I could only help if you told me about the troll. Couldn’t I?’

  Audrey plonked the glass on the table. ‘Lucky trolls aren’t real.’

  Twenty-two

  The sun slipped below the horizon. Audrey watched as the brilliant red, and then the gold, began to fade. Sunset colours changed quickly. If you looked away for a few seconds, then back again, they were different. Audrey’s favourite was the deep blue that came just after the crimson and gold faded and the first star came out. She wondered if Janet was watching for that star too.

  ‘It’s your turn.’

  Audrey jumped at the sound of Bloke’s voice.

  She sat cross-legged in front of Audrey, looking like a mountain with a head. ‘We’re startin’ again with Ones, in case you forgot.’

  Tapping her chin with her forefinger, Audrey stared at the five sheep knucklebones on the ground.

  Nearby, the goats bleated in their pen, and the chooks made soft clucking noises. Once the sun went down, the chooks went to roost. Nimrod hardly seemed to sleep at all. A dog or fox would have to be especially brave to challenge him.

  Audrey picked up the knucklebones, but looked up at the sky again. There it was, the first star! Her fingers squeezed the knucklebones firmly into her right palm. Star light, star bright; I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight … She imagined Janet running to her mother, then sent her wish flying all the way up to the big, twinkling star.

  ‘You got something on your mind?’ asked Bloke.

  ‘Lots of things. Do you reckon people’s heads are ever quiet?’

  ‘Depends on the person. If I get to worryin’ then I take off, go somewhere new. Walkin’ makes me so tired I can’t worry no more.’

  Audrey threw the five knucklebones in the air and turned her hand over. One knuckle fell on the back of her hand. Four landed on the ground.

  ‘Sometimes talkin’ to someone helps,’ said Bloke.

  Audrey kept her eyes on the knucklebones. She had a funny feeling at the back of her neck, like a tickle. Bloke’s voice sounded different, softer.

  Her hand moving quickly, Audrey threw a knucklebone in the air, scooped another from the ground and opened her hand again to catch the first in midair.

  ‘Gettin’ hard to see,’ said Bloke. ‘Light’ll be gone soon.’

  It was growing darker and the air was nippy. Audrey could hear the rattle of cutlery from inside the house. Then Douglas bellowed a flurry of words. The smell of roast meat made Audrey’s mouth water.

  Bloke took a deep breath. ‘I used to play knucklebones in the orphanage.’

  ‘But Price said your parents were loggers and you lived in camps.’

  ‘That was when I was real little. But then my mother got sick with her lungs,’ said Bloke. ‘The old man sent me and my three brothers to an orphanage. Don’t reckon he liked children. He was always complainin’ we made too much noise. He didn’t like play, my dad. If you weren’t workin’ you was wastin’ time.’

  Audrey peered at Bloke. Sometimes faces showed feelings that words did not. But the dimming light made Bloke’s face hard to read.

  ‘Me and my brother Melvin used to hop the fence and look in the rubbish bins at the school next door cos we was always hungry,’ said Bloke. ‘That’s probably why I’m the size of a shed. If there’s food, I eat it. Just in case there won’t be none the next day. Got sick of being hungry … and other things. So I lit outa there. Jumped a train, came out bush.’

  ‘All by yourself?’

  ‘At first. I was living rough. Then Maud and Thomas found me.’

  ‘Did they adoptinate you?’

  ‘Sorta. It was lucky they found me. I was young, see. And scared.’

  Audrey couldn’t imagine Bloke being scared of anything.

  ‘I haven’t seen my brothers in twenty years, that’s the noise I’ve got in my head.’

  Twenty years was a long time. Janet might end up separated from her family for that long, maybe forever, if she didn’t get home.

  ‘We all need someone to help us, sometime or other …’ Bloke didn’t ask a question, yet her words seemed like one.

  Audrey rubbed at her arms to smooth out the goosebumps, then scooped up the knucklebones. It was too dark to continue the game and she wanted to go inside.

  ‘What’s the noise in your head, Audrey?’ asked Bloke.

  ‘Come and get it,’ Mum called through the open window.

  Audrey jumped up at the sound of her mum’s voice and held out her hand to Bloke. ‘We have to go in now. Mum’s been cooking for hours.’

  Bloke uncurled her legs, groaned, and took Audrey’s hand to steady herself. There were calluses along the base of Bloke’s fingers. Hard little nuts of skin that proved she’d swung her axe many times.

  Audrey was glad that Bloke had told her about her family. But she couldn’t confide in her in return. The noise in Audrey’s head—the secret about Janet—had gone from whispers to shouts. But she couldn’t share them. Not with anyone.

  Twenty-three

  Audrey pushed her large treasure tin back under her bed. It had once contained biscuits. But now it held Audrey’s special things. And until tomorrow morning, it would also hold a lump of roasted kangaroo that she’d sneaked out of the kitchen for Janet. It wasn’t exactly ‘treasure’. Except if you were hungry. And by the time Audrey could sneak to the cubby tomorrow, Janet would be exactly that.

  The meat had a strong smell. But Audrey hoped no one would detect it now that it was snugly in the tin with the lid shut. Otherwise, her mum and dad would want to know why she was hiding food. It would be hard to explain without giving away the secret about Janet.

  There was a thump on the roof over Audrey’s head, then a scrabbling of little feet. Hot pins and needles ran down her arms. It was only another possum on the roof. They often jumped about up there. But the sudden sound had startled her.

  Keeping this secret was like wearing a prickly shirt. No matter how much you wriggled and scratched, it would still be uncomfortable.

  There was a lot of noise coming from the kitchen. Bloke’s voice boomed. And everyone else was louder because of it.

  Audrey wished she could go to Janet right now, but she knew she’d be missed. So instead, she picked up her letter from Jimmy and carried it through the sitting room to the kitchen.

  ‘I could have sworn there was half a rabbit left in here,’ said Mum, as she looked in the meat safe.

  Audrey stopped suddenly in the doorway. The cooked rabbit had only been a scrawny little leftover. She’d hoped no one would notice it was gone.

  She shot a look around the room.

  Douglas sat on Dad’s lap, his thumb in his mouth. His eyelids drooped.

  Price was stacking dishes on the shelves.

  Bloke scrubbed at the roasting dish with a brush. On summer nights, dishes were washed outside. Now, it was too cold at night and washing-up was done in a large metal basin on the bench.

  ‘Price, did you take that rabbit?’ asked Mum.

  ‘No!’ He sent her a look that said, Why would I want half a skinny rabbit?

  ‘Never mind, Everhilda,’ said Dad. ‘Sit down now. That’s enough work for one day.’

  ‘I was going to give that meat to Bloke in exchange for the honey.’

 
; ‘Don’t you worry about that, Mrs B,’ said Bloke. ‘If I ate any more I’d burst. You’re a bonzer cook.’

  Audrey’s mouth felt dry. She called out to distract everyone from the missing meat. ‘Want to hear what’s in Jimmy’s letter?’

  All eyes turned her way.

  Twenty-four

  Dad wrapped his arms around Douglas and stood up. ‘Give us two secs.’

  Audrey moved back to let Dad through. She didn’t look at him in case he guessed she’d taken the meat.

  ‘Dontwannagotobed,’ protested Douglas.

  But he was quiet after that.

  The others trooped into the sitting room.

  Audrey’s mum picked up her sewing. ‘Would you like to sit here, Bloke? Beside me.’

  ‘I’m right, thanks, Mrs B. I’ll head back to camp soon. Might just hear the news first.’ Bloke shuffled from one foot to the other. Her huge body made the sitting room seem smaller.

  Dad came back and turned up the lamps on the side table and mantelpiece. Ignoring his tattered but comfortable armchair, he sat beside Mum on the sofa and fingered the shirt she was taking in for Price. ‘That was a good shirt. Had it for years.’

  ‘It might have been good once,’ said Mum in the voice she used when she was being teacher in the mornings. ‘But it’s seen better days.’

  ‘Did I look like a sweaty horse in it?’ Dad grinned wickedly.

  Mum lightly smacked his hand.

  ‘What’s in your letter, Mum?’ asked Audrey. She wondered if her voice sounded squeaky.

  Price sat in Dad’s armchair and stretched out his legs.

  Audrey decided against the rug where she usually sat in the evening. Instead, she moved to stand next to Bloke, with her back against the wall.

  ‘I had a letter from Mrs Paterson,’ said Mum, with a smile. ‘She’s offered to come and help when I have the baby.’

  ‘Mrs Paterson’s not as bad as she looks, is she? She’s got a bigger good side than anyone thought,’ said Audrey quickly, glad Mum seemed to have forgotten about the missing rabbit meat.