No Ocean Deep

by Cate Swannell

  And, along the way, he had been the one to tell them what Jo’s ‘job’ in Sydney had been. He knew it was something for which Jo would probably never forgive him, but at the time it had seemed the right thing to do. He’d also made sure to tell them just what good Jo had done by turning on her former cohorts. The lives she’d saved. The Madisons had rewarded him with friendship and gratitude.

  “Did you decide to let her tell you herself?” the detective asked tentatively.

  Maggie studied the line of ants marching along the sun-warmed windowsill. “Not necessarily,” she answered. “It’s been difficult to know how to bring it up, and to be honest, there hasn’t been much chance yet. Now,” she went on briskly, “when are you going to come out and visit?”

  Harding tried to imagine himself out in the bush without ready access to a McDonald’s and fresh packs of Winnie Blues and just couldn’t see it. But there was something deeply appealing about getting away from the city and spending time with the Madisons. It touched something in him that had never gotten a lot of attention over the years – a sense of family.

  “I’d like that,” he heard himself say. “Not sure when I can get away, though.”

  Maggie wouldn’t hear anything of it. “Well, then it’s time you looked into it, Ken. There’s a side of beef walking around my back paddock that’s got your name on it.”

  Cadie contemplated the silent figure sitting next to her. She was desperately curious about David Madison’s own military history but she knew better than to just blunder in with a bunch of clueless questions. She had been a politician’s wife long enough to know that Vietnam vets were not always happy to talk about their war service. She watched as a tiny smile creased the corner of her father-in-law’s mouth.

  “It’s okay, Cadie, you can ask,” he said wryly. She grinned.

  “Thanks. Maggie said you were in Vietnam.”

  He nodded. “Yep. Shot at and shat upon,” he said quietly. Cadie waited, knowing that if she let him talk, he just might. “I was with 6RAR.” He glanced at her. “That’s a regiment.”

  “I figured,” Cadie smiled.

  “Served in Phuoc Toy province in ’66 and ’67. You ever heard of the Battle of Long Tan?” he asked, not expecting any answer other than a negative.

  Cadie thought about it for a moment. Naomi had served on a couple of house committees for veterans affairs and Cadie had gone along with her ex-partner to several functions. Naomi had never been interested in the details, but for Cadie, talking to the veterans and hearing their individual stories had been something she had greatly treasured. More than one of those functions had featured visiting Australians and Cadie dug around in her memory banks. She smiled when she realized she did know what David was talking about.

  “Didn’t the President give out some honor to the Aussies for that?” she said, ridiculously pleased with herself when she saw David’s double-take.

  Maggie was right, David thought, impressed despite himself. She can handle herself. “Yeah, he did,” he confirmed aloud. “A Presidential Unit Citation from Lyndon Johnson to Delta Company of 6RAR.” He looked at Cadie thoughtfully, even as he continued to steer the truck along the road. They were nearing the outskirts of Louth and his attention was divided as he dodged a rheumy old cattle dog that was meandering across the highway. “That was my company,” he said.

  “So you were right in the middle of that battle, huh?”

  He shrugged and swung the truck onto the main street of Louth. “There were three platoons involved. It was 11 Platoon that made contact with the Vietcong first and they got hit hard. Then it was 10 Platoon who went in from one side and tried to help them out. I was in 12 Platoon. We were held back in reserve and then sent in from the other direction. We were the ones who eventually extracted what was left of 11.” He went silent and Cadie could see his throat working hard.

  “This all happened in one night, didn’t it?” she recalled.

  He nodded wordlessly, and then took a deep breath. “Yeah. The 11 Platoon survivors stayed with us, but we had to leave the dead and wounded out in the field overnight. Then the next morning we went in and pulled them out. Seventeen dead, and some 20-odd wounded. All good mates. All young – 20 or 21. A couple were 19 or so.”

  Cadie shook her head in wonder. “I can’t even begin to imagine what that must have been like,” she said quietly.

  “You don’t want to know,” David muttered.

  She watched as a whole range of emotions swept across his lean, lined face. The telltale rippling at the corner of his jaw told her he was grinding his teeth.

  “Do you still dream about it?” she asked. His head snapped round and she felt the full blast of his cool, grey gaze. Oooo, may have pushed a little too hard on that one, Jones. But it didn’t take long for his eyes to soften.

  “Yeah, I do,” he muttered. “But don’t tell Maggie.” He grinned suddenly. “She’ll have me taking those damn herbal concoctions again and I can’t stand the taste of those buggers.”

  Cadie chuckled. “My lips are sealed,” she promised. “But I think it’s a fair bet she already knows.”

  “Yeah, probably. But as long as I don’t say anything she won’t push it.”

  “Well, now I know where Jo gets it,” the blonde said, shaking her head.

  “Gets what?” David asked, eyebrows raised.

  “Damn-fool stubborn nothing-hurts-so-don’t-expect-me-to-say-ow stoicism,” Cadie shot back, her own eyes twinkling. “Jo just about has to be bleeding on the floor before she’ll admit she’s hurting.”

  “So I guess she’s pretty crook if she’s laid up in bed this morning, then?” David asked.

  Cadie smiled, her brain now automatically flipping through its growing lexicon of Australian phrases. Crook is sick. “Mhmm. I’ll give her credit, though. She’s been a good patient so far.” She folded her arms and looked pensively out the windscreen.

  David snorted. “That won’t last,” he said. “Wait till she gets bored.”

  “Oh, boy.”

  Jo padded out into the kitchen. She had pulled on a pair of sweatpants and yet another fresh t-shirt and was wrapped in a blanket. Waking up about 20 minutes earlier, she had felt a little better, although disappointed to be alone. It hadn’t taken long for her ‘restless’ gene to kick in and she had gathered herself up to go in search of company.

  The kitchen was empty and Jo figured her mother was probably somewhere in her flower garden. Barefoot, she shuffled out the back door, trailing a corner of the blanket in the dust behind her.

  “Hi, Mum,” she said hoarsely, as she spotted her mother on her knees in a corner of the flower bed.

  “Tch, Josie, what are you doing out of bed?” Maggie pushed herself to her feet and walked to where her daughter was standing. Jo was swaying slightly, as if unsure of her balance. “You should be horizontal, love. You’ve gone all pale.”

  “Yeah, I’m just deciding that you’re probably right,” Jo replied glumly. Her bottom lip slipped out in a fair imitation of a pout. “I got lonely.”

  Maggie took her daughter’s arm and led her to a folding deckchair that sat in the middle of the lawn. “Here, sit down before you fall down.” She helped Jo lower herself into the comfortable hammock-like seat, tucking the blanket in around her shoulders.

  “Cadie went with Dad, huh?” Jo asked. It was a nice feeling, the sunlight on her face and her mother looking after her. Warm and fuzzy.

  “Mhmm. You don’t remember her leaving?”

  Jo frowned, trying to think. She had a vague memory of Cadie saying she wouldn’t be long, but other than that, the morning was a bit of a blur. “Not really.” She snuggled down further into the blanket. “Cadie okay with spending the day with Dad?” She knew how much Anzac Day meant to her father, and she just hoped the blonde wasn’t going to be overwhelmed by the experience. Lassitude again swept through her before she could give it too much more thought, however.

  “I think she’ll be just fine.” Maggie watch
ed as her daughter’s eyelids began to droop and she smiled affectionately. I give her about 10 more seconds and she’ll be fast asleep again, she thought. Gently she brushed a lock of sweaty hair from Jo’s forehead. Such a life you’ve led, my girl. I hope you can tell us about it yourself one day. Sure enough, Jo’s eyes closed and Maggie backed away slowly before returning to her task in the rose bushes. She turned the soil over with her trowel, mulling through all she knew about the young woman’s history. Some of it still hurt to think about, even though her gut told her Jo was no longer that person. I’ll bet my last dollar you’re scared to tell us because you think we’re going to reject you somehow. She glanced over, smiling again at the figure sleeping soundly in the sunlight. Going to have to convince you otherwise, kiddo.

  Cadie stepped inside the circle of men and felt the butterflies skitter across the lining of her stomach. She was half-aware of her father-in-law just beyond the circle of faces, watching her from where he leant against the bar, cold beer in hand. They had been at the pub a couple of hours and Cadie had met all the old-timers of the town, including one World War I veteran and a handful of David’s Vietnam compadres. He’d introduced her as a friend of Jo’s and she hadn’t seen any reason to elaborate on that. One or two of the men had baulked at her accent but she’d shown plenty of interest in their history and medals, the result of which was she had managed to charm just about everyone in the smoke-filled bar.

  The two-up game, illegal on every other day of the year except Anzac Day, had been in full swing for about an hour. Cadie had watched long enough to get a handle on the rules, such as they were, and it hadn’t been long before her new friends had urged her into the middle of the pit.

  “Place your bets, gentlemen,” yelled the pit boss. Cadie pulled out her wallet and extracted a five-dollar bill, handing it to him as he passed. He gave her a short, flat, wooden stick on which lay two large pennies, one head-side up, the other tail-side up. All she had to do was toss the coins in the air, using the paddle. As the tosser, she automatically bet on two heads coming up. Everyone else in the circle could either bet with her, banking on two heads, or against her, banking on two tails. If the coins landed different sides up, she got to throw again.

  Cadie waited while all the bets and side bets were negotiated and laid. A nod from the pit boss gave her the all-clear and she stepped into the center of the circle and flipped the coins up into the air. Whoops and calls came from the ring of men around her, urging the coins to fall their way. As they clinked metallically to the floor, silence descended. The pit boss stepped forward.

  “Heads it is!” he shouted and a roar went up from the majority of the surrounding men, most of whom had backed Cadie’s hand.

  “Good on ya, lass,” said one old-timer close to Cadie’s shoulder. “I’ll be riding on your coat-tails, never you mind.” Cadie grinned at him as the pit boss gave her a handful of cash and the paddle for another toss, before making his way around the ring again. Winnings were doled out and further bets laid as a crowd began to gather beyond the inner ring of participants.

  Well, it’s not the most complicated game in the world, Cadie thought happily. But it’s a lot of fun. Her next throw ended in a split result, which meant nothing except to serve to raise the tension levels.

  Cadie could hear the chatter and banter around her increase. A quick glance over in David’s direction told her that she was doing all right, as her father-in-law nodded and raised his beer glass in acknowledgement. The gap in the crowd closed quickly, however, and Cadie turned her attention back to the game at hand.

  Twenty minutes later the blonde was the toast of Louth. Happy punters pocketed fistfuls of cash while the losers consoled themselves with another round of cold beer. Cadie sauntered over to David, feeling somewhat impressed with herself.

  “I did okay, for an American, huh?” she said smugly, not surprised to see the patented Madison expression of skepticism on the older man’s face.

  “It’s a game of chance, ya know,” he said gruffly, taking another mouthful of ale. “It’s not like there’s any real skill involved.”

  Cadie opened her mouth to retort when the man who had been acting as the pit boss tapped David on the shoulder.

  “Here ya go, Dave,” he said, handing David a wad of cash. He grinned in Cadie’s direction. “You want to hang on to this one, mate, she’s a dab hand. And I reckon she’s got a bit of a lucky streak about her.” He tipped his hat at the blonde. “Come back and visit us again, lass, you’re good for business.” And with that he walked away.

  Cadie raised a sardonic eyebrow at David who cleared his throat as he tucked the money into his back pocket. Neither said a word as he caught her clear green-eyed gaze and held it. Finally, he admitted defeat, letting his face relax into a grin that dropped years off his lined features. Cadie chuckled, relieved that a barrier seemed to have disappeared between them. It’s about time, she decided.

  “Come on, girl,” David said, downing the last of his beer. “They’re expecting us at the police station.”

  “You are kidding me?” Jo’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. She was trying to figure out if this whole conversation was part of some weird fever-driven delusion because she couldn’t quite fathom what it was her father was telling her.

  “Nope. Fair dinkum,” David confirmed.

  All four of them were in the Madisons’ living room. Cadie and David had just arrived home after spending the afternoon watching the police grill the Madisons’ sheep-killing ex-foreman, Jack Collingwood.

  Jo was curled in a corner of the couch, wrapped in a blanket and surrounded by a ring of used tissues and various packets of medication. After her nap in the garden she had moved in here where at least the cable television helped her stave off the bouts of restless boredom that had threatened to drive her crazy between sneezing jags. Stuffed in the head and still with a high temperature, she felt crappy, but at least the sneezing had held off long enough to hear the news from Cadie and her father.

  “Let me see if I’ve got this right,” she muttered stuffily. “Collingwood was working for a loans officer from the bank?” Jo looked at Cadie for confirmation.

  “Apparently,” the blonde nodded. “The idea was to try and put your parents out of business, so they’d default on their mortgage.” She shrugged. “Brownie points for the loans officer, I guess.”

  “That, and the bank’d make more money, in the short term, by selling off the defaulted property than by waiting for me to pay off the damn mortgage,” David growled.

  Jo snorted derisively, or tried to. All she really managed was to make herself go deaf in her left ear. “Well, if that isn’t the stupidest damn scheme I’ve ever heard,” she said, shaking her head. “One sheep at a time? With something as obvious as a shotgun? Did he think you wouldn’t notice?”

  Maggie moved from her spot near the door and came and sat on the arm of the sofa by Jo’s shoulder. She smiled as she felt her daughter shift slightly so she was leaning back against her thigh.

  “I always suspected Jack wasn’t just a slimy character. Now I know he’s a complete idiot as well,” Maggie said quietly.

  “So what now, Dad?” Jo asked, looking over at where her father lounged wearily in his armchair. “You’re not gonna let them get away with it, are you?”

  “No fear of that, Josie,” he mused. “They’ll both be charged and I’ll make sure it goes through to the right conclusion. And, what’s more, there’ll be an investigation at the bank. I dare say this isn’t the first time this kind of thing has been tried, and they’ll want to see how far up it goes.”

  Cadie felt something nudging at her thigh and she looked down to see Jo’s foot begging for attention. “You should be wearing socks,” she murmured, feeling the cool of Jo’s skin against the palm of her hand when she wrapped her fingers around the foot.

  “My feet are the least of my worries right now, love.” Jo replied as she reached for yet another tissue. “So, are you going to be compensa
ted for the sheep you’ve lost?” she asked her father.

  “Yeah,” he grunted. “Not that it will make much difference.” He turned away from his daughter’s intense, if bloodshot, gaze. “If it doesn’t rain soon, I’ll have to start shooting the buggers myself.” He pushed himself up and stalked out of the room, leaving a pregnant silence behind him.

  “Is that true, Mum?” Jo asked quietly, looking up and over her left shoulder into her mother’s face. Maggie’s answering look didn’t waver.

  “Pretty much,” she replied. “But not to worry, love. Rain has to come sometime and it takes more than a bit of sunshine to beat your father. We’ll survive.”

  Cadie could feel the tension in Jo. “At least we can help out for the next few weeks, until you guys find a new foreman,” she said hopefully. Maggie smiled back at her kindly.

  “That you can,” Maggie said, nodding. “But first we’d better get this one healthy.” She patted Jo’s shoulder before standing up and moving towards the door. “And we can start that by getting some food inside her. Time to get dinner on.”

  Cadie waited till they were alone before she locked eyes with her partner. “You want to help them out with some money, don’t you?” she asked softly.

  “Yeah, I do,” Jo admitted. “But that means …” She let the sentence hang.

  “That means pretty much telling them everything,” Cadie finished for her. Jo nodded and they held each other’s gaze for long, telling seconds.

  “God help me,” Jo muttered.

  Chapter Eight

  “Tell me again why we’re still working for this woman?” Toby McIntyre looked up at his partner who sat across the wide desk from him. Jason looked back from behind his laptop, his round rimless glasses endearingly crooked.