‘You can see that it is, Ken. The truck’s empty and I don’t have anything stashed in the cab.’ She grinned but he wasn’t amused.
‘There should be two more pallets and several large drums.’
Angela sighed. ‘I gave Jim the paperwork.’
‘I’ve got that.’ He flapped the clipboard up and down again.
‘Everything was accounted for in Adelaide.’
‘Well, it’s not here.’
‘What’s not here? Are you suggesting we lost part of your freight?’
‘It’s not here,’ he repeated.
Angela drew herself up straight. She’d put up with a lot from this guy. Everyone else seemed to hail him as a hero but she was growing tired of his attitude, and she certainly wasn’t going to sit back and be accused of losing freight.
‘Everything we loaded from your supplier in Adelaide was unloaded here this morning. Everything,’ she stressed. ‘So perhaps it’s been miscounted in your shed.’ She didn’t want to implicate Jim in any way but she’d checked everything off as he’d unloaded. If anything was missing it was probably just misplaced.
‘There’s about a quarter of the load missing.’
Angela frowned at him. A quarter? Sure, she’d expected to fill the tray with the dangerous goods load, but she just assumed Ken had overestimated the space required. Something had gone awry somewhere.
‘Surely our delivery sheet should match your invoice,’ she said.
‘Of course they don’t! Why do you think I’m here, woman?’
Once again he waved the clipboard in front of her, but this time she reached out and snatched it from his hand. On top was the delivery sheet with everything ticked off, and her and Jim’s signatures at the bottom. Underneath was the invoice from the supplier, likewise with all the items marked off. She glanced quickly at Ken – he was staring at her truck, as if hoping to see his missing freight materialise out of thin air. Under the invoice was more paper, including a handwritten order. In red pen someone had ticked off most of the items but there were big rings around several items and amounts not marked off, for spray and the like. She flicked back to the invoice and the delivery sheets.
‘Your order and the delivery sheet don’t match,’ she said, handing Ken back his board.
‘I know that,’ he snapped. ‘I just need to know what you’ve done with it. I’ve got farmers hanging out for this stuff.’
‘I haven’t done anything with it. The delivery sheet matches the invoice. Everything on that invoice has been unloaded into your shed. It’s your order that’s out.’
‘If I can’t get what they need, they’ll get together and collect it themselves.’ He looked towards the town as if she wasn’t there and started waving his arms about. ‘I’m not made of money, you know.
I can’t afford to lose their business. That’s why I’ve fought so hard to get a decent transport company for the town.’
Angela was angry but she was also concerned for Ken. The morning was cool but his whole face was flushed deep red and he had a wild look in his eyes.
‘Everything you’ve been invoiced for is in your shed,’ she said again, more gently this time. ‘If it’s not all that you expected you’ll have to take it up with your supplier. I collected everything they gave me and that’s what I delivered. Maybe they were out of stock.’
Ken fixed his eyes on hers and she saw the fight go out of him. The clipboard dropped to his side. ‘Don’t patronise me,’ he said. ‘I only faxed the final order two days ago. It was all in stock then. I can’t believe they didn’t send it.’ He turned on his heels and marched back across the yard.
Angela felt the tension slide from her shoulders. She put a hand to the back of her neck and thought wistfully of a hot shower, of Claudia, of Jim’s bacon and eggs. They would have to wait.
She thought back over the jobs that had been cancelled: part of Frank’s freight, some pipe for Ken. Then there’d been a spate of other trips when small jobs had been withdrawn – she’d just assumed people had changed their minds, supposing Ken was the culprit. He obviously didn’t like the idea of a female truck driver and she thought he was trying to undermine her. Now she wasn’t so sure. To say Ken was agitated about this latest mishap was an understatement, but he didn’t strike her as a man who made mistakes with his business. Something wasn’t right. Angela could smell a big, fat rat.
She cast her eyes longingly towards the gate, then sighed and reluctantly traced Ken’s footsteps across the yard to the office door. There were way too many mix-ups for this to simply be a coincidence. Something was going on and she needed to get to the bottom of it, for her own sake as much as Ken’s.
***
‘Was I right?’ Angela watched Ken hang up the phone. She’d only heard his side of the conversation but it was enough for her to believe her hunch.
Ken mopped his brow with a large hanky and frowned at her from across his desk. ‘They said someone from my office rang and cancelled part of the order.’
‘When?’
‘I don’t know.’ He ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Only recently, I suppose. I’ve been adding to that order since you said you’d do it. I certainly didn’t cancel anything.’
‘So no one else could have made that call?’
‘I’m the only one who places the orders.’ He rapped the fax machine with his knuckles. ‘I sent the typed copy two days before you left for Adelaide.’
‘Who’s the missing spray for?’ she enquired.
‘It isn’t all spray.’ Ken picked up the clipboard. ‘There are other things.’
‘Are they all for the same person?’
‘No … At least, I think it’s a mix of orders. I’ll have to check.’
Angela’s mobile beeped in her pocket. It was a message from Leanne. Brunch was ready.
‘I have to go, Ken.’
He stood up. There was a desperate look in his eyes again. ‘What am I going to say to these people?’
‘I don’t know. I’m sorry you’re in this position but I picked up everything that was on the list at the Adelaide end. I didn’t leave anything on purpose.’
‘We have to maintain a reliable service.’
Angela clicked her tongue. ‘I’m doing my best.’
‘Maybe your father should have sent a man to do a man’s job.’ He glared at her.
Angela frowned back at him. She knew a few women who’d had to fight their way into jobs, always having to be twice as good just to be treated as an equal, but this was her first taste of such open hostility.
‘You’ll hightail back to Melbourne soon and goodness knows who’ll replace you.’ Ken continued to rant. ‘If people can’t rely on Ranger Transport, they’ll keep looking for alternatives. It’s a costly exercise. We need to build up the regular freight and deliver it on time. A man would have made sure everything was picked up and delivered.’
‘A man did,’ she snapped. ‘Coop was the driver. We checked the inventory and loading together. Not that it should make a difference.’
Ken’s face dropped. ‘Coop’s a good bloke,’ he said, slumping back into his chair.
‘Whether he was there or not, the outcome would have been the same,’ she said. ‘Ranger Transport picked up your freight – as per the invoice – and delivered it on time.’
Ken leaned forward, propped his elbows on the desk and put his head in his hands.
There was nothing more Angela could do to convince him. She glanced at her phone. She’d already used up the time she’d planned to spend showering and changing, and she still had to drop the trailer off at the depot before heading over to Leanne and Jim’s. She backed out of Ken’s office.
‘I have to go,’ she said, ‘but let me know what you find out.’
‘Oh, don’t you worry about that.’ Ken’s words boomed behind her like a threat as she hurried across the shop floor, her fingers punching a quick reply to Leanne as she went.
There was certainly something going on with the f
reight but Ken was too agitated and unreasonable to think straight. It didn’t make sense that anyone would be sabotaging her – most places she went, people were delighted to see her. When it came down to it, the only person in Munirilla who’d made her feel unwelcome was Ken. The Berls weren’t much fun either but she was partly responsible for that. If she hadn’t had a go at Clifford Junior they may have treated her differently.
Angela started the truck and tidied up her paperwork while she waited. She wished there was someone she could talk to about all this but her father was too far away and didn’t understand the situation. She thought wistfully of the trip she’d just made with Coop. In the short time she’d known him, she’d found him to be a good listener, but they hadn’t had the chance to talk work on the trip – he’d slept all the way to Adelaide and she’d blathered then slept most of the way back.
She manoeuvred Big Red out of Ken’s yard and headed back to her own. Maybe Jim and Leanne would give her some ideas. They’d lived in Munirilla most of their lives.
In the Ranger Transport yard she unhooked the trailer and set off again. She was keen to see Claudia. Even though the little girl loved being at Leanne’s and didn’t appear to miss her mother, Angela felt guilty leaving her for two nights. Leanne and Jim were good people. Their house was busy with their three boys but they always made her feel welcome. Angela brightened up as she thought of them. Ahead of her she had two days off. Maybe there’d be time for another picnic, or even a trip out to Coop’s place.
Claudia was bouncing up and down on the front verandah as Angela pulled onto the wide verge. She jumped down from the truck and was greeted by squeals of delight and two little arms flinging around her waist. Leanne was waving from the front door. Angela put Claudia on her hip and listened as she babbled about everything she’d done in the last few days. Before she’d reached the front door, Angela had put Ken and his freight troubles firmly out of her mind.
Chapter 34
When he’d arrived back in the early hours, Coop was looking forward to crawling into his swag. Jilly was happy to see him after his night away but he’d sent her back to her bed and made his way to the house yard. In the dim light of the quarter moon he fumbled with the gate then stumbled over the step on the back verandah. Rusty had given a low woof but, being reassured by the familiar voice, wisely stayed on his bed.
Inside the house Coop had quickly sunk into his swag, eager to catch a few hours sleep before getting back on the tractor. He’d lain there for a few minutes, listening to the sounds of the house settle around him, his eyes heavy with sleep, before flinging them open and staring into the dark. There was no glow from the outside light. The light he’d switched on before leaving for Adelaide.
Now Coop twisted in his swag and opened one eye. Bright daylight filled the room. Testing the stretch of each arm he climbed to his feet and went out to the kitchen. He flicked on the kettle then slowly turned to peruse each part of the room. Nothing looked different or out of place. He crossed to the door leading to Alice’s lounge and bedroom, hesitating a moment before pushing it open. The light wasn’t as bright in there but a quick glance showed all as it should be. Alice’s wedding photo was where he’d seen it last, on top of the piano, the furniture was placed as he remembered it, the old clock ticked steadily in the corner and the door to Alice’s bedroom remained half-open.
Coop tugged the door shut behind him and made a cup of coffee. He already knew the computer was where it should be, in the alcove off Alice’s back lobby – he’d walked past it on his way in last night.
The only explanation was that Annabel switched the light off when she fed the dogs. He could ask her about it when he rang to thank her.
Right now though, he needed to turn his attention to the farm. And to Alice. On the last part of the journey, with Angela fast asleep, he’d had plenty of time to think about Alice and her desire to return home. Mary had given him a list of the kinds of support she would need when she did. Coop had to find out what would be possible. Being so far out of town, however, meant that some of the assistance would fall on his shoulders. He liked Alice but the pressure was beginning to feel like a rope around his leg.
Staying in one place was not an option for Coop, but when he’d arrived back at the farm last night, a strange feeling washed over him. He recognised it because he’d felt it before, a long time ago, when he lived with Jeff Vickers. It was a comfortable feeling, like he belonged.
Jilly gave a distant bark, a small reminder to get moving. Coop shook his head and pushed back from the table. There was a mountain of work to be done.
The first thing he did was check the paddock where all the ewes now had lambs. The last few had dropped while he was away. His rough count remained at sixty-five, the same number of ewes as when he’d moved them in. The mothers and lambs all looked steady and healthy. Hopefully they hadn’t caused Annabel any problems.
He took a run out to the paddock he’d been seeding. It was finished but there was another to be done on the other side. According to the gauge there hadn’t been any rain since the thunderstorm, but the forecast was for widespread showers this week. He thought it best to keep on with the seeding. Phil Cameron had been vague about when he’d be able to start on Alice’s place. The more Coop could get done in the meantime, the better.
He then spent the rest of the day on the tractor and just on dusk he found a blockage in the seeder. He was weary and hungry and the water in his cooler had run out hours ago. It would be too easy to make a mistake. Time to call it a day and start again in the morning. He’d probably finish the paddock by the next night if he got another full day at it.
Back at the house he fed the dogs, kicked off his boots and went in search of dinner. Alice’s pre-cooked meals still took up half the space in her small chest freezer – she must have slaved for a long time to prepare them all. He selected a container labelled ‘Roast mutton, one serve’ and set the microwave to defrost.
He turned on the tap at the sink. Water spat and spluttered then filled his glass with grey sludge. He nearly gagged as the stench found his nose.
Grey water swirled down the plug hole. He turned the tap off, then on again. Once more it disgorged vile smelling water – a little less sludge this time but still discoloured. He quickly thought back to the day he’d connected the new tank. Had he done something wrong and allowed some grime to get in? Was there something in the pipes, something inside the tank?
He tried the bathroom and got the same result. The taps over the trough and the shower in the laundry, however, flowed steadily and without smell. Coop put two and two together: the laundry was fed from the mains supply.
Outside, he looked at the new tank. He twisted the tap and it disgorged the same smelly sludge and the water that followed was similarly discoloured. He sunk to his haunches and watched for a moment as the dirty water flowed to the ground, then reached across and wrenched the tap closed.
‘Damn it!’ He slapped the tank and Jilly gave a low whine.
Coop propped a ladder against the tank and, Alice’s torch in hand, climbed up and removed the inspection cover. He was nearly knocked off by the rotten stench that rose to meet him. The precious drinking water collected from last week’s storm had been contaminated somehow. Clapping his hand over his mouth and pinching his nose between thumb and forefinger, he shone the torch into the tank. A dark glimmer reflected back at him. The surface looked greasy in the torchlight but he couldn’t see anything floating on it.
Back on the ground, Coop pushed his hair back from his forehead and cursed under his breath. He’d have to let all the water run away, clean out the tank and pray the forecasters were right. There’d be no rainwater for the house unless decent falls came soon.
***
The next morning Coop was up at daylight. He’d left the tank tap running overnight and now he could see and smell the grey sludge trail that had seeped away. The cause of the contamination was now suddenly apparent. Ash. After the fires the wind had car
ried it for kilometres. He remembered it swirling everywhere, even over at the Camerons’. It must have coated the roof and been washed into the tank with the deluge that followed. The water had been fine when he left for Adelaide, but it’d had a slightly smoky taste. Now it would have been fermenting for a week.
‘Damn!’ He cursed his own stupidity. He hadn’t installed any kind of filter. The traps attached to the old tank were useless. He’d thrown them away and the new ones hadn’t fitted the old pipe.
Coop put his arm over his dog’s shoulders and rubbed her head. ‘Back to square one, Jilly. More work to do. We have to clean out this tank now.’
The dog flicked her tongue, giving him a quick lick on the cheek. Coop laughed. ‘Thanks girl,’ he said and stood up again. ‘No point in crying over spoilt water.’
***
Angela and Claudia sang together as they drove away from Munirilla, but the closer they got to Coop’s place the quieter Angela became, until she stopped singing altogether. The last time she was with Coop she’d burst into tears like a crybaby. When they’d arrived in Munirilla, he couldn’t get out of the truck fast enough and back to his farm.
Claudia had been the one to suggest going there today when Angela had mentioned a picnic. She’d tried to ring Coop to ask if it was okay but there was no answer. He didn’t have a mobile, but was probably just out in a paddock, so they decided to go anyway. Besides, he still had Angela’s camera. She wanted to take more pictures of Claudia in Munirilla and their time was running out. Two more weeks would see Tiny Trev back on the road and taking over the run.
A heavy feeling settled in Angela’s chest. She eased Big Red back a gear and looked out across the paddocks. She was beginning to feel comfortable here. She’d made some friends and was getting to know people. One of the pre-school mums was having a girls’ night out for her birthday next week and had extended an invitation to Angela. She couldn’t imagine a casual acquaintance being so generous back in Melbourne.
Queen of the Road Page 23
