‘Oh, darling!’ In her relief to get away from her torment, if only temporarily, Pippa hugged her brother, and for the first time she could remember he struggled free. At times he had wriggled uncomfortably, but mostly he had accepted caresses. Now he said quite gruffly, ‘You don’t do that, Pippa, not in front of name belonga Brucie.’ He was picking up pidgin quickly.
‘Sorry,’ Pippa apologized, recognizing his new status. ‘Well, I suppose we’d better start walking, it’s getting quite dark.’
‘Falling Star is only over there.’ Davy waved nonchalantly. ‘Just past the hill.’ Pippa smiled ruefully. She had forgotten these infinitesimal inclines that could blot out all that lay beyond.
‘Can I have tea with Brucie?’ Davy was asking.
Pippa was not sure about that, not sure if the rations down the gully could include an extra, so she got round it by suggesting that Brucie had tea with them. ‘I think Cassy will find room.’
‘Plenty of room,’ nodded Davy. ‘The table will be empty. The stockmen are out, Crag’s gone, and so has Rena.’
‘Rena gone?’
‘With Crag,’ said Davy. ‘Come on, Pippa, Brucie’s hungry.’ He waited, though, for Brucie to make the first indicative move, for in spite of his scouting tuition he was really as uncertain as Pippa which direction to take.
Brucie knew, though, and stepped out unfalteringly, whereupon Davy stepped out, too.
It was only Pippa who stumbled, and that was not because of any doubt of her direction, not with a scout like Brucie. It was because of tears in her eyes.
So Rena had gone. With Crag.
She never would have found her way back without the scout. Pippa realized this as she trudged along behind Brucie and Davy, she acknowledged fully the mystery of this red terrain where, only half a mile from a point, that point was no longer visible or even familiar. She wondered how Brucie, even though it was his country, went so unfalteringly. Everything around her seemed exactly the same, so how could Brucie tell?
‘The wind on the sand,’ instructed Davy importantly when she said this, ‘the way that tree bends.’ The sand was alias red and all as rippled, and the tree was another mulga, and to Pippa it bent the same as all mulgas. She determined, unless by some miracle she achieved Brucie’s scouting powers, never to run out like that again.
Back at the house she was relieved to find that her absence had not been noticed, or anyway, noted. Mrs. Cassidy must have thought she was in her room, or ... a wince that Pippa despised herself for ... even seeing the plane off. Quickly she proffered, ‘I’ve been looking around Falling Star, Cassy.’ Davy had not come in with her, so she was able to ask casually, ‘Did I hear Crag’s plane go out?’
Mrs. Cassidy looked up. ‘Yes.’ A pause. ‘She went with him.’
‘Miss Franklin?’
‘Yes.’
Another pause. Then: ‘What’s she here for, Pippa?’
‘I—well, there was a message concerning Davy.’
‘There are always letters,’ said Mrs. Cassidy. ‘There are phones.’ She tossed her head.
‘This was personal,’ said Pippa. Well, Davy was personal, he was hers, because of him she was here at Yantumara, because of him she had married Crag.—Or that had been what she had thought.
Mrs. Cassidy did not pursue the subject of Rena, whom obviously she did not like. ‘You look tired, dear. Did you walk too far?’
‘No, not too far. The boys came after me. Davy wanted to have tea with Brucie tonight, but I thought if you didn’t mind Brucie could have tea with us.’
‘I don’t mind, but probably Brucie will,’ smiled Mrs. Cassidy. ‘It’s as Crag said, there’s nothing like rib bones cooked over eucalyptus leaves.’
‘Can I help you, seeing we have an extra?’
‘You can supervise Rosie setting the table if you like, she has a habit of putting the knives and forks back to front.’
As Pippa corrected the knives and forks, she asked Cassy: ‘Is Bobby any worse?’
‘Oh, no, but Minta rang to say he would be better with someone by him. “Patients’ relations” is a very big factor in hinterland hospitals. When I was growing up it was father, mother, sisters, brothers, uncles, aunts, then cousins, second cousins, right down the list. If you didn’t allow them around the patient just pined to death. But it’s getting different, and so long as Bobby has his wife he’ll be all right.’ With a sympathetic look at Pippa that made Pippa want to glance the other way, Mrs. Cassidy added, ‘Miss Franklin would have been taken along just for Ludy, dear. Mostly the men are very thrilled to fly, but the women are a little apprehensive, and need a companion. If you’d been here I’m sure—’
‘Yes,’ said Pippa, but she was not sure. Not sure that if she had been there it would still not have been Rena accompanying Crag. Brucie, as Cassy had said, was not over-impressed with the meat course, but certainly impressed with the ice cream that Cassy gave the little boys instead of the adults’ caramel rice.
After the dishes had been put in the dishwater, Pippa went and sat on the big verandah with the book-keeper and those of the stockmen and jackeroos not out with the herds. It was a velvet night, as velvet as only hinterland nights could be, she decided, an exaggerated gold moon, stars so big you felt you could pluck them down. It was not the sort of night to sit alone ... yes, alone, even with seven men. It was a night for one man.
She wanted to ask how long Crag would be away, but the words would not come. She waited until it was time to call Davy to bed, then after she had bathed him, heard his prayers, something that Crag had taken over from her, she, too, went to bed. Rena’s things were strewn all around the room. It didn’t seem Pippa’s own room any more. But then it wasn’t, it was their room. Girls together, Rena had smilingly said.
With a little sigh she tidied up some of the things that had tumbled from Rena’s bags, scarves, blouses, the beautiful negligees she had always had ... and a photo in a leather case. Only a small photo. Able to be fitted ... as it was ... in the fold of a handkerchief. Pippa looked down on it and smiled as she saw the rather crafty yet likeable face of naughty old Uncle Preston, Rena’s father. Then her glance fell on the other side of the case. Dom. Domrey Hardy. What was the overseer, whom Rena despised so heartily, doing there?
She closed the folder, freed the bed in case Rena did come in late, though she knew that an aircraft could never put down here at night without a flare, then clicked out the light.
She did not go to sleep for a long time. Although she knew that Rena—and Crag could not come, she could not help herself from listening for them. But at last in the small hours, sleep took over, and she was still asleep when Rosie brought in her tea.
Her first glance went to the bed, but it was still unoccupied. Well, she had known that.
Then Rosie said, ‘You look for Miss, Missus, she not home all night. Boss, too.’
‘I expect that.’ Pippa accepted the tea.
‘Yes, but those two,’ went on Rosie, ‘they come back all right, but not here.’ She gave some actions. ‘They have trouble with no gas for that plane, so they put it down in Western Field and stay in the stockies’ hut.’
‘How—how do you know this?’ Pippa held tightly to her tea.
‘Our Billy, him going past that hut when Boss tells him to get someone to bring gas for plane to get back. Bobby s all right, Billy says, and Ludy is stopping with him. You bin like more tea?’
‘No, thank you, Rosie, I’ll get up.’
When she went down to the kitchen, Cassy repeated Rosie’s story.
‘Evidently Crag wanted to get home yesterday and left as soon as he had deposited Ludy with Bobby at the hospital. But he mustn’t have checked as he always checks, either that or the engine was amiss, for they had to come down at Western Field while it was still light. Billy was going past rounding up some stragglers, and Crag instructed him to get fuel out today. Why don’t you go along, dear?’
‘No. No, I don’t think so. I—I thought I would have a morning with the mot
hers and the piccaninnies.’ She hadn’t thought so, not for this morning, anyway, though she had intended to do it one day, and she knew she could not bring herself to go out there.
She heard the jeep put off later with its succour but did not look up.— Also she did not let herself think of last night. She thought of another night outside a tent, a navy blue night with a sliver of moon. Somewhere a pheasant, somewhere a wood pigeon. Soft earth and a tree leaning over. It all seemed unreal now. Perhaps it had never been.
Then she thought of Rena, Rena so lovely that any man’s head would be turned, and especially a man who had loved her once. And loved her still? ‘If you’re coming, Pippa, Davy reminded reproachfully by her side.
‘I’m coming, darling.’
Down in the gully, no actual gully, really, just a slight indentation and probably indented like that by many feet passing over it for many years, for Cassy had told Pippa that for as long as she could recall meetings had been held there, it had been a discussion place, the gins were shy at first, but still friendly. The piccaninnies, however, having heard all about her from Davy, flocked around at once, and their mothers, following up to scold them, remained instead, and soon all the women were talking together.
Children predominated the conversation, of course, didn’t children always? ... and Pippa heard how Mary’s Elizabeth was three and the eldest four and how last year Janey’s Gary had got ruddy fever ... scarlatina, Pippa decided ... and passed it around the camp. Janey was very proud of that achievement.
The pics got tired of the conversation and wandered off, but their mothers remained to talk eagerly with Pippa. Like all women, they were keen on dressing up, even though it was true that right now they wore very little. But, they giggled, ‘when that hairy feller comes we buy very good does, Missus, you’ll see when Mr. Walker calls.’
One of the jackeroos had joined the group to call Pippa up for tea, and he explained, ‘We call the Afghan hawker ... yes, he has long hair and a beard, hence he’s the hairy feller ... Mr. Walker because his own name is quite a mouthful. There’s not many of these unique characters left now. Once they were the only Up Top itinerant salesmen. I doubt if you’ll find anything maddeningly exciting in Mr. Walker’s bags, but the gins adore his beads, scarves and baubles.’
After morning tea, Pippa returned to the gully again, and on an invitation from the women went into their houses. She decided that as far as health went, they were very well catered for. The homestead kept a close eye on their general condition and a specially close eye on any possibility of leprosy, once a danger out here. Also, a Government glaucoma team called every year.
But education, she thought, was sadly lacking. Over lunch later the men who had been left behind for their rest periods said that Crag was trying to contend with this by correspondence, only it was difficult to find someone to superintend the lessons. One of the stockmen asked Pippa if she had written yet for Davy’s enrolment. ‘It’s a good system,’ he said, adding modestly that it was the only instruction he had had, whereupon the others at the table laughed uproariously and advised Pippa to have nothing to do with it.
‘Seriously, though,’ they added when the laughter had died down, ‘Snow’s right, it does teach the kids, and you need have no fear that the young ’un is missing anything by not going to school.’
Davy had never been to school, either she or Aunt Helen had taught him everything he knew, so Pippa knew it would be no miss. But a sudden thought came to her that here could be the niche she needed. She could superintend the lessons, Davy’s and the pics. Perhaps Crag could even allot a little schoolhouse from the many buildings. She would be like his mother and his grandmother, she thought, she would be a true countrywoman. She felt enthusiasm bubbling through her ... then hollowly came the realization that it would be no good. What was the use of thinking of schoolrooms when before anything could eventuate she would be gone? What was the use of thinking about lessons for Davy when—
She did not go back to the gully that afternoon.
The day wore on. She would have thought that Crag and Rena would have been in by now, but the jackeroo informed her that it was a fair run out by jeep so they could not be expected until late afternoon. When late afternoon grew into night she found herself listening so hard that her ears throbbed. She did not want her evening meal, but she forced it down, hoping that Cassy and the men did not notice her preoccupation.
Cessna must be playing up, so Crag’s coming in by the jeep,’ decided Snowy. ‘But don’t you fret, Mrs. C., you’ll have your man back tonight.’
She tried to smile back at Snowy’s kindly face, but it was a hard try. Mrs. C. That was Crag’s tag for her. But your man. That was not, and never had been, and never could be, a tag for him.
She did the usual after-dinner things, she sat for a while on the verandah with the others, then she called Davy from the gully, bathed and bedded him. What a much more independent little boy he was becoming, she thought. He took over most of the washing himself, and told her after she had tucked him in that she needn’t leave on a light. He even did not ask as much about his idol Crag. So a little boy was growing up.
But ... achingly ... a little boy couldn’t. He had only now one Australian spring.
She went to bed herself and could not have said at what time she heard the jeep coming in. It was Rena and Crag at last, she knew it by their voices that carried distinctly through the quiet night. They were on the verandah, and she heard Crag say: ‘Impulse, Rena, impulse, that’s all it was. How else can I drive it home to you ... how can I make you see it that way ... see how it’s bringing chaos to the heart?’
‘But, Crag ...’ She did not hear Rena’s answer and she did not want to.
So already Davy was an impulse to be regretted ... or was it what Crag had done because of Davy that was the regret? The chaos to a heart?
It was much later that Rena came in. Even in her numbness, Pippa was aware of the length of time that had passed...
When Pippa went along for breakfast the next morning, Rena, already the mistress, it seemed, having ordered Rosie to bring her breakfast to her bed, it was to learn that Crag had left very early. He had taken Davy and Brucie with him. They had gone, Cassy reported, to run down some scrubber steers that Crag had seen coming back from Western Field.
Pippa did not notice that she waved aside her usual concern for Davy, especially when his activities included running down scrubbers ... what had he reported to her? you do it in full gallop, leap from the horse, flick it by its tail and pin it to the ground ... to ask instead if there had been anything amiss with the plane.
‘Yes, so they left it there and came back in the jeep. Mind you, though’ ... a smile ... ‘it was out of gas as well. If you ask me, Pippa, your man was so anxious to get home to you he forgot his usual check.’
Yes ... but he did not forget to linger on a verandah and say: ‘Impulse, Rena ... you must see it that way ... see how it’s bringing chaos to the heart.’
But it was no use going over things like this. So long as she remained here she must occupy herself. Either that, or she could bear it no longer, and she had to, for Davy. So as soon as the meal was finished she went down to the book-keeper’s office and asked Rupey for as much unwanted paper as he could spare. He found her a generous armful, then, when he learned that she intended starting off those of the pics who would sit still long enough on some elementary lessons, found pencils, too.
‘There’s manuals here,’ he smiled, ‘probably left over from Crag’s young days, so not the latest methods, but at least they’d give you a pointer.’
Pippa thanked him and went off, calling back to him when he advised her not to be disappointed at her first attempt an assurance that she would not.
She had expected, with the book-keeper, that the pics would be bored with any attempt she made, that they would scribble over the paper, but to her delight they listened intently when she started them off, their pansy eyes big and grave, their little pencil ma
rks on the paper thin and delicate.
It was there that Crag, having finished rounding up the scrubber steers and come home again, found her, and for a while he stood looking down on her.
‘The hillside’s dew-pearled,’ he said softly.
‘There’s no hillsides here,’ said Davy practically, ‘unless you mean what we call the hills but are really only inclines.’ He added indignantly as Crag smiled, ‘You told me so yourself.’
‘I was just wondering where a poet had gone,’ said Crag, thinking of a little boy on a train who had told him that Pippa had been called that because she had been born at seven and had hillside eyes. ‘You’re a different scrubber now, Davy.’
‘Of course I am, because I’m better. Ever since you poulticed me I’ve been cured. You said it made you better, and it did.’
‘Then you’re better,’ agreed Crag.
He went over to Davy’s sister. ‘Well, Teacher?’ he smiled.
‘It is well,’ she answered with shining enthusiasm in the green eyes he had been watching. ‘These children are wonderful. If they can do that just sitting around me on the ground, imagine what they’d do in a proper feller school.’
Crag burst into laughter, Pippa, after some surprise at herself and the pidgin that, as with Davy, had crept in, laughing with him, then the pics and Davy at the madness of old people.
Rena joined them to ask about the mirth, and the mothers, never far behind their children, looked admiringly at the beautiful new miss with the lovely clothes.
‘I’m afraid you’ve spoiled them for Mr. Walker,’ smiled Pippa to her cousin as they went up the hill again, but Rena’s smile back as Pippa explained about the Afghan hawker did not reach her eyes.
The old restlessness was on her. Pippa recognized it at once. How often had she seen that look on Rena at Uplands? That strange unrest. That unhappiness. Why was Rena unsettled like this?
A Thousand Candles Page 15
