Amanda smiled back vaguely. ‘You might be right. But at the moment I think I just need some time to myself to come to terms with what the doctor has said, read up on it a bit, try and work out how I’m going to cope.’
Amanda felt so tired, she just wanted Adrian to disappear so she could fall into bed and sleep. It was her fourth day on the tablets and she had begun to sleep slightly better, but she still needed more. Since Hannah’s phone call, she had spent a lot of the time sitting in front of the fire, staring into the coals and wondering how long it would take to beat this ‘thing’ that she had. Although the relief of finding out that there was actually something wrong with her had been immense, she also seemed to have lost a lot of her energy and drive. She wished she could just say ‘be gone with you’ and her anxiety would disappear, but that wasn’t likely. At least she had something to look forward to: the day after their phone call Hannah had emailed to say she was coming over for a holiday.
Adrian stared at her thoughtfully. ‘Do you mean that?’ he asked.
Amanda blinked and tried to remember what she had just said. ‘Um, about what?’ she asked cautiously.
‘That when you get on top of this depression thing, you might want me around all the time?’
He held out his arms and, feeling a sudden need for a warm pair of arms around her, she moved into them.They stayed like that for a long time, until Adrian reached down and put his fingers under her chin and tipped her face up to his.
‘I love you, Mandy. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.’
Amanda looked into his familiar face; his dark brown eyes and floppy fringe, the small scar above his eyebrow. Everything about him was solid and dependable. Surely she’d be mad to let him go?
But still something – she wished she knew what it was – held her back.
Standing on tiptoes, she brushed her lips against his and felt his arms tighten around her. ‘I just need a bit more time, Ade,’ she said softly. ‘Just give me a few weeks to get back on track and then we’ll talk, I promise.’ She then gently disentangled herself.
Hannah threw herself on the couch and held out her hand for the cup of Milo Amanda had made.
‘It’s so good to be here,’ she said. ‘I can’t believe how great it is to get out of the city and be able to hear my own thoughts! Don’t get me wrong, I love Sydney and the hustle and bustle, but it’s a relief to have some peace and quiet.’
‘It sounds like Sydney would be fun to visit,’ said Mandy.
‘Mandy, you would love it. The movies and theatre – oh, and the amazing restaurants . . .’
As her friend went into raptures about a new Thai restaurant, Amanda rested her hand on the photo album, trying to decide if she should tell Hannah about the photo – and the letters she had hidden in her cupboard.
Taking a deep breath, she picked up the album, slipped out the photo and held it out to Hannah.
Hannah stopped mid-sentence. ‘What’s this?’ she asked, reaching out to take it.‘Oh, what a beautiful photo of you and your dad! He looks so happy and excited. And look at your mum smiling in the background. That’s beautiful, Mandy.’
‘Turn it over,’ Amanda said in a strangled voice. Hannah gave her a strange look but flipped it over.
‘I don’t see . . . Oh hell, that’s not your birthday, is it?’
‘No. It’s two years earlier.’
‘So who’s this?’
Amanda shrugged helplessly. ‘I have no idea. Obviously a brother or sister.’
‘Have you asked anyone? Your Aunty Diane or someone? Or looked through your mum and dad’s things to see if you could find a birth certificate?’ Hannah glanced down at the date again and turned the photo over to study it more closely.
‘No,’ Amanda said softly. ‘I couldn’t. I’m not sure that I really want to know.’
Hannah looked at her friend sympathetically. ‘No, maybe it’s not something you need to deal with now, but you might want to later. And it doesn’t mean that they were hiding something from you just because they didn’t tell you about this child. Whatever happened to him or her may have been too painful for them to talk about.’
Amanda swallowed. ‘I’ve got something else to show you,’ she said. ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’ She went to her bedroom and turned on the light. It threw a soft glow over her childhood room, where her old teddy still sat up against the pillows of her bed. Adrian couldn’t understand why she hadn’t moved into her parents’ room, but she just couldn’t. Every time she set foot in it, she felt like she was intruding. She’d not opened a drawer or poked into a spot that wasn’t hers.
She grabbed the chair from near the window and opened her cupboard door. Standing on the chair, she reached up to the top shelf and drew out a cardboard box. She could share this. She didn’t need to keep it to herself.
Back in front of the fire, Amanda began her story.
‘After Dad died, I focused on the farm and nothing else. I didn’t want to think or feel, I just wanted to do what came naturally, something I could lose myself in. The first anniversary of his death came around so fast I didn’t even realise it had until I was writing out a cheque and I had to write the date on it – and then it clicked. It was twelve months to the day since Dad had disappeared. Anyway, I went down to the mail box to put the cheque there for posting, and it had the red rag hanging out of it. I thought it was a bit strange, because it wasn’t the mail day, but there was a letter.’ Amanda stopped, breathed deeply, and took an envelope out of the box. ‘It must have been hand delivered.’
Hannah held her hand out for the letter, but Amanda wasn’t finished. ‘I was in shock as I read it. I was sure it must be some kind of sick joke.’
‘The next year, as it came up to the anniversary, I was a bit nervous, but a week went past and there wasn’t anything, so I assumed I’d been right the year before, and that it was just some horrible joke. But then another letter arrived.’ She took the second letter out of the box and held it up. ‘The next year and last year were the same.’ She held the four letters out and Hannah took them. Opening the first one, she began to read.
‘Holy shit,’ she gasped. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me!’
Chapter 35
Michael helped Grace into the Dodge then swung Diane up next to her.
‘The wet weather will have made the road boggy,’ Grace commented as Michael gently let the clutch out.
‘Yes, we’ll have to take it slowly. And what about you, little urchin?’ He smiled at his daughter. ‘What shall we sing while we’re travelling? How about “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star”?’
As they sang, Grace shut her eyes and tried to nap. At five months, this baby was very active and she hadn’t been sleeping well.
Michael negotiated his way around deep, boggy potholes in what was little more than a two-wheel track – the shire was still working on the road – stopping occasionally to heave away fallen branches that blocked their path. It was many hours later that they arrived in Esperance, tired and slightly muddy. But when Michael pulled up at the boarding house he was surprised to see it closed.
‘Well, that’s rather inconvenient,’ Michael sighed. ‘I guess we’ll try the holiday flats. Grace?’
‘Yes, just somewhere to have a rest, please.’ She shifted uncomfortably on the seat.
When they were booked into a unit Michael, observing his wife’s pale face, suggested, ‘Why don’t I take Diane for a walk while you have a rest?’
‘Would you?’ she asked gratefully. ‘If I could just have an hour’s rest I’m sure I’ll perk up.’
Michael took Diane’s hand and they walked slowly along the path until they came to the beach. Diane stared in wonder at the waves then turned and clung to Michael’s legs.
‘Woud,’ she said.
‘Yes, it is loud. Look at those black clouds rolling in over the islands.We’ll get wet soon.’
Diane bent down and touched the sand, then picked some up and let it trickle through he
r fingers.
‘Look, we can build a sand castle. Pat, pat.’ Michael heaped the sand into a tall pile and patted it down. Diane watched, fascinated, then started to pat too.
‘Pat,’ she said. ‘Pat, pat!’
As it began to sprinkle with rain, Michael took her hand and ran towards the verandah of a nearby store. As they arrived, the door swung open and a tall man strode out, his face lined with worry. It took Michael a moment to recognise him, but when he did, he called out a greeting: ‘Thomas Cramm! It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. How are you?’
The man stopped and pushed his hat back to see who it was, then gave a tight smile.
‘Michael, yes, it has been a while.’ He moved to shake Michael’s outstretched hand.
‘Have you been keeping yourself busy?’ Michael asked.
‘Yes, I’ve been working on the pink lake – the boys and I have been digging the salt for the Synnot brothers. How about Kyleena? Is it producing well?’
‘Yes it is, thanks. Grace and I keep very busy out there.We’ve put our crop in and we’ve got nearly two hundred sheep running on cleared pastures now. I noticed that the boarding house is shut. Is every thing all right?’
Thomas’s jaw worked back and forth and he seemed to be struggling to answer.
‘I’m sorry, Thomas, it’s none of my business.’ Michael held up his hand in apology.
‘No, it’s fine, it’s just . . .’ Thomas sighed. ‘It’s Kathleen. You might have heard that she went to Kalgoorlie not long after you two parted ways. Well she’s been in poor health recently and we haven’t heard news of her for some time, nearly two months. Mother has caught the train to Kalgoorlie to look for her – we’re afraid she’s gone missing.’
‘That’s appalling news, Thomas! Can I help in any way?’
‘No, there’s nothing anyone can do. Though you could stay out of Mother’s way when she returns. You aren’t in her good books since you married. Also, we haven’t told anyone that Kathleen is missing, so I’d appreciate it if you’d keep it to yourself. Anyway, Thomas changed the subject, ‘have you come into town for supplies?’
‘We’re here for Frank O’Connor’s farewell party.’
‘Ah, there’s a man who’ll be sorely missed. Well, it’s been good to see you, Michael.’ And he walked away towards the boarding house, leaving Michael thinking of Kathleen for the first time in years. He hoped she’d be found safe and well.
Chapter 36
Hannah spread the letters out on the table. The message on each, typed in bold, was the same.
I won’t forget you.
‘I’m speechless. This is . . .’ Hannah stared at her friend.
The fire had burned low and Amanda went to the wood box and pulled out a large mallee root. Sparks flew up the chimney as she threw it on coals and the crackling sound echoed through the room.
‘I don’t suppose . . . Nah, stupid idea.’
‘What?’ asked Amanda.
Hannah screwed up her face. ‘I don’t suppose there is any chance your dad actually put these in the mail box himself?’
Amanda shook her head sadly. ‘That’s what I hoped when I got the first letter. After I’d calmed down, I thought what if it’s real? If he’d run away for a while, well, so what? I reckon everyone would understand the sort of pressure that he was under. And it meant I would have the chance to make it up to him. Be a daughter to him, instead of a bossy, single-minded bitch. I wanted the chance to say sorry for not being a better daughter. But then, it just didn’t make sense. I mean, the letters were hand delivered. Surely if he was around here someone would have seen him? And I can imagine him staying away for a year or two – but four? I know we had our problems, but I don’t think he’d leave me on my own for four years. And why would he bother typing the letters? So no, I don’t think that it was him.’
‘Well,’ Hannah folded the letters and put them back into their envelopes. ‘I really don’t know what to say, Mandy. It’s no wonder you’ve been so nervous.
‘I’d suggest going to the police, but I’m not sure what they’d be able to do. I mean, all you’ve got is the letters – there’s no handwriting to match against your dad’s or anyone else’s – and I can’t think of anyone who would hate you so much they’d want to do this. It’s just too strange and devious for words.’ She picked up her empty cup, reached for Amanda’s and stood up.
Amanda gave a wry smile. ‘The best thing is being able to tell you about it and not have you think I’m crazy. I’ve kept it to myself for so long. I’ve looked at them over the past couple of years, wondering why, not wanting to tell anyone . . . but, Han, it’s like I can breathe again. I feel . . . This sounds stupid, but I feel free.’
‘Well, lady, that’s why I’m here. Now I’m still on Sydney time and I need to go to bed. You’ve given me more than enough to think about tonight. Here I was thinking it was so nice and peaceful on your quiet farm! Sydney has nothing on Kyleena!’
The next morning, over breakfast, Amanda said, ‘It’s only a couple of days till the anniversary of Dad’s death. I’d really like to head to the river now the rain seems to have cleared. I always like to go down and have a think and walk along the banks at this time of year.’
‘That sounds lovely. I haven’t got any boots though.’
‘There’s a spare pair in the laundry. Hey, you remember how I told you about that hut down in the fenced-off bush? How about we take a picnic lunch and I’ll show it to you?’
‘That sounds even better!’
‘I’ll just ring Adrian and tell him what we’re up to. He was planning on dropping by to see you.’
‘Why don’t you invite him for dinner tonight? Or we could go to Paringa.’
‘Either, or. I’ll see what fits in with him.’
The bush between the house and the river was thicker than Amanda remembered and it was hard going in places. But Hannah was obviously loving being back out in the country; she kept stopping to listen to the birdcalls in wonder and pointed out things that Amanda hadn’t noticed in her own walks, like the blue flowering creepers which wound their way over branches of mallee trees or the fungi at the base of the trees. It made Amanda feel like she was seeing the bush through new eyes.
‘So what’s the story with this hut?’ Hannah puffed as they climbed up the granite hill.
‘Well I don’t really know. I wish I did, because this would be some sort of heritage thing, I’m sure. I never heard Mum or Dad talk about it – only that this area was fenced off for remnant vegetation. The government offers grants for farmers to fence areas that are susceptible to damage – rivers, salt patches, those sorts of places – and then they try and revegetate some of them.This spot would be eligible for that sort of grant, I think. But it can’t be. The sort of fence that’s been used is really old. Built long before the grant would have been thought of. Amanda paused as they crested the hill. ‘Look, there’s Adrian’s house on Paringa.’ She pointed to the gable roof that you could just see above the tree tops. ‘C’mon, it’s down this way.’
They gave up talking as they slipped and slid down through the bush. As the bush opened out into a clearing they saw the crumbling building.
Amanda walked towards it and tried to open the door. It was stuck so she pushed harder until it creaked open a few inches and she could stick her head in. She glanced around hesitantly.
The room was about two metres by six metres and was covered in a thick layer of dust. Mallee roots lined one wall, and at the fireplace there stood an old cast-iron cooking oven. There was a round stump in one corner that looked like it could have been used as a stool and a poker leaned against the fireplace. Other than that, the house was empty.
She pushed the door again and managed to squeeze her way through the gap. She stood in silence, taking it in. The wheat bag which hung over the window looked like it would disintegrate if it was touched. Goosebumps prickled her skin as she stood in the gloom wondering who had lived here and what their life had be
en like.
‘Mandy, come and taste these mulberries, they’re beautiful!’ Hannah called, interrupting her thoughts. With one final glance around, she shivered. She had the strangest feeling that something horrible had happened here. She walked out into the pale sunshine, relieved to be outside.
Hannah was standing next to a leafy tree that was loaded with berries.
‘I don’t suppose there’s an old bucket or container lying around that we could pinch and take some back with us?’ Hannah asked.
‘Haven’t seen anything,’ Amanda replied, reaching out to pick a couple of ripe berries. ‘But I think we should leave everything the way it is. Not touch anything.’
‘Mm, you’re probably right. It’s just an amazing place. Check out that old swing hanging from the dead plum tree. Whoever lived here must have had kids.’
‘I can remember my mum telling me the funniest story about emus that had been eating fermented mulberries,’ Amanda said suddenly. ‘I don’t know where it was, but it must have been around late August or early September, when the fruit was beginning to ferment. She said there were about ten emus under one mulberry tree and they were all drunk! They couldn’t even stand!’
She and Hannah started to laugh hysterically at the image. As the anxious knot in her stomach began to unravel, Amanda was amazed at how good it felt to think of her parents and laugh.
‘So, Mandy,’ Hannah said as they munched on their sandwiches, listening to the river gurgle,‘are you feeling better now that the tablets have kicked in?’
‘I guess so,’ Amanda replied. ‘It’s nice to know that I’m not going crazy, anyway!’ She smiled.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ Hannah said slowly. ‘I’m really looking at things in a different light now that you’ve showed me those letters.You know, the water tank and taps, the lights and the noises . . . If you think about all the little things that have been happening, they actually start to add up to something big. Mandy, what if someone is trying to get at you? Trying to scare you for some reason? Can you think of anyone you’ve upset?’
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