by Maya Linnell
Bottlebrush Creek is bone dry, reckon that’s why pigs were heading your direction. Rob found tyre tracks and an old camp site too, probably hunters, and a litter of piglets. Have put video cameras in the scrub, streaming to my laptop, and already caught this ripper of a vid. Not quite candid camera, but good for a laugh anyway. Max
Max? Rosa must have given him my number.
Diana came out of the room as Angie opened the video clip.
‘Not sure what Max found in the scrub, but apparently it’s funny,’ Angie said, glancing up at her oldest sister, who looked like she was equally in need of some comic relief. ‘Want to watch it?’
Diana nodded wearily, squeezing into the uncomfortable plastic seat beside her. Angie pressed play on her phone.
Leaves obscured the top of the image, as if it had been mounted to a tree in the forest, and the dappled sunlight made for poor visibility. A figure walked through the scrub, paused, then looked left and right, as if searching for someone or something.
Diana peered at the screen, trying to get a better look at the grainy image. ‘A hunter? I can’t see any pigs.’
‘Looks like he’s wearing a uniform.’
Angie raised an eyebrow and returned her attention to the video. The man was back in the picture, a lot closer to the camera now, and he was leaning up against the base of the tree, still looking left and right.
‘Is he a ranger? Parks and Wildlife? Eww, he’s doing a wee.’ Angie recoiled from the phone. ‘Seriously?’
Diana snorted with laughter and grabbed the phone. ‘Look closely, he’s not doing a wee.’
Angie studied the screen, her eyes widening as the uniformed man moved his hand in a steady rhythm. ‘Whaaaat? Is that what I think it is?’
Diana’s laughter doubled as the clip ended abruptly. ‘He’s having a grand old time. Not only are wild pigs and hunters roaming your property, but our taxpayer dollars are paying for someone to jack off in the forest.’
Angie let out a giggle. ‘I’d better delete it.’
‘Delete it? You should upload it to YouTube! You’ll make a fortune.’
‘Redtube more like it.’
Diana passed Angie’s phone back, holding it for a second until Angie looked up at her. ‘So Max is sending you messages now? Careful about how you play this whole twin thing, all right? It’s nice he’s trying to help, but Rob’s the man you’re marrying.’
Angie rubbed her eyes and sent Diana a weary smile. ‘You’re not serious, Diana? It isn’t like that.’ She spun the engagement ring around on her finger as she walked back into the labour ward. She was old enough to form her own opinions about someone, and just because Rob didn’t like Max, it didn’t mean she had to automatically hate him too.
Rob walked out of the cottage that afternoon to find his father climbing across the fence.
Just what I need: Dad, to rub it in a little deeper.
‘Don’t need to hear it, Dad. Whatever you reckon I could have done isn’t going to help now.’
‘Just having a gander. Hard to believe the pigs can do so much damage in such a short time. Had a field day in the backyard too.’
Rob turned back to the cottage, taking in the annihilated flowerbeds at the back of the yard, the snapped fruit trees and ruined veggie patch. The trampled seedlings, uprooted plants, trellises and stakes were just the icing on the cake. All Angie’s hard work had been for nothing.
How did I miss that?
John shoved his hands into his overall pockets. ‘Feral pigs are one thing but setting a bunch of piglets loose in the scrub should be a hanging offence. Maybe …’
Rob noticed his father’s brow furrow. It wasn’t like him to censor his thoughts. Had Rosa had a stern word with him too?
John cleared his throat. ‘Maybe we should hunt the blighters down? I’m not much of a shot, not like you and Max, but it will be a nightmare if they keep returning.’
Rob tore his gaze away from the ruined crop and garden beds and studied his dad’s pensive expression. Where was the sting in the tail, the part where John told him he could hold the spotlight while Max did all the shooting? He was surprised when none came.
‘What are you thinking?’
‘It’s a full moon tonight. How ’bout we see if we can take a few down? Max has rigged up a few cameras. We’ll soon have a handle on their movements,’ said John.
He has? Rob had trouble hiding his shock but one look at his father’s face confirmed it: Is that optimism? Rob shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. ‘Righto.’
Max’s video fell to the back of Angie’s mind as she watched her sister deliver an indignant baby girl into the world. Elation filled the room, along with the glorious sounds of a newborn’s cry. Penny beamed, clasping her daughter to her chest.
‘She’s perfect, Pen,’ said Angie. ‘All the little fingers, all the little toes.’
Little Lucy Patterson didn’t look that much different to a newborn Claudia, though her niece’s entry into the world had been more of a social event than Angie’s experience in the labour ward. Rob and a midwife had been the only ones to witness Claudia’s arrival, and it had felt like their first big triumph as a family. The surge of love she’d felt for both Claudia and Rob in the labour ward had run deeper than she’d ever imagined, cocooning them through those hazy first months of parenthood.
Angie, Lara and Diana bid the new parents farewell and started the trek back from the Horsham hospital to McIntyre Park.
Conversation was sparse, the sound of talkback radio just as the sisters drove. It was only fifty k’s but Angie felt herself nodding off in the car, and her legs felt like lead as she dragged herself from Diana’s four-wheel drive.
Angus waited on the front porch of the farmhouse, tossing a set of keys in his hand. ‘Don’t drive home yet, love. You need some sleep before you get behind the wheel of your little buzz-box. Cuppa first, then a nap, all right?’
Angie stifled a yawn as she trudged up the steps. What’s another few hours away in the scheme of things? She shot off a quick message to Rob, with a promise she’d be home by nightfall, and allowed her father to walk her upstairs with a cup of tea. He flicked the bedside lamp on and drew the curtains.
‘A quick kip will do you the world of good, love.’ Just as he had when she was a little girl, Angus blew her a kiss and quietly closed the bedroom door behind him.
Thirty-four
Shiny cars towing boat trailers outnumbered local traffic two to one as Rob headed into Port Fairview. He pulled up at the hardware store and retrieved the shopping list from Claudia’s chubby hands. After grabbing a trolley, they worked their way down the list, picking out tile glue and grout, until they had all the supplies to finish laying floorboards and make a start on the kitchen. At the last minute, Rob also added a bottle of gun oil to the trolley, keen to give his rifle a clean before the hunt.
Claudia stacked and restacked the bags of grout and boxes of hardware as they waited for the trio of fishermen in front to pay for their hooks and bait. ‘Careful with them, Claud. Don’t poke a hole in the bags. Wally doesn’t want his floors dusted with grouting powder,’ he said, smiling at his old mentor.
‘Rob, good to see you again. Drove past your place other day, looks like you’ve got it shipshape. Ivan and Ida would be proud.’
Rob nodded. ‘Ivan called in for a squiz over Christmas. Seemed happy enough.’ He looked down to prise his debit card from his wallet.
‘G’day, Miss Claudia. Helping Dad with that cottage of yours?’
Claudia nodded proudly as she stacked the products on the counter.
Wally whistled. ‘Clever like your dad, I’ll bet.’ He scanned the gun oil. ‘Shame about those pigs. You nailed the ferals yet?’
‘Not yet, but I’ll be having a red-hot crack tonight. Max’s tracking them with cameras. You haven’t heard anything about cowboy hunters around town, have you? I found a few rifle shells on the ground by Bottlebrush Creek.’
Wally chewed on his lip
. ‘Not a word. I’ll keep my ear to the ground though.’
A hardware staffer squeezed in beside Wally and gestured to the kitchen. ‘I’ll take over if you like, Wal. Your coffee’s waiting for you, with extra sugar just the way you like it. Go drink it while it’s hot.’
‘Be out in a tick. Can’t leave my favourite customers in the lurch,’ said Wally.
The woman’s comment jogged something in Rob’s brain. Coffee? Sugar? But before he could grasp it, the card machine beeped.
Rob glanced at Claudia, who was piling their purchases high, and then back to Wally. What was it about coffee and sugar?
‘Sorry, mate, the card was declined. Must have pressed the wrong key, happens all the time,’ said Wally, handing back the machine.
‘I’ll give it another go.’
Wally’s face was creased with concern. ‘Sorry, Rob, the card was declined again. I’d let you take the shopping, but your account’s too far overdue.’
He twisted the computer screen around. Even though Rob could see the bold red text at the top of the monitor, he struggled to comprehend what it meant.
Rob laughed, glancing at the queue behind him. ‘Of course we have money, I’ve entered the wrong pin again. Let me try once more.’ He thrust the card back over the counter.
Claudia stacked the boxes higher. Customers shuffled awkwardly in the line behind him as he pushed the code into the touchpad, focusing on entering each number firmly and in the correct order, as his mind raced to stay a step ahead of the situation. Maybe I can leave my licence at the counter while I dash out and withdraw money from the cash machine?
Claudia’s tower tumbled. A box whacked his hand, and then spilled onto the floor, 500 galvanised bullet-head nails spinning in all directions. The rest of the boxes followed.
The credit card machine grunted quietly, confirming the card had indeed been declined, as the rest of the boxes and grout bags rained down on the checkout, the trolley and the floor.
Rosa popped the leftover lasagne in the microwave and set it for three minutes. She was still staring off into the paddock, smiling at the forest and the black-and-white cattle in the distance, when the microwave started beeping at her. Rosa jumped and pulled the steaming pasta out to divide into serves for lunch.
Having a quiet word to both John and Rob had been worthwhile, and, as an added perk, she’d get to babysit while they were out hunting tonight. If I’d known those pigs would be the catalyst for getting John and Rob conversing in more than one-word sentences, I’d have released them into the forest myself.
She caught sight of her smile in the window and clapped a hand over her mouth. You’ll be struck down thinking wicked thoughts like that, Rosa Jones. She rubbed the gold cross on her necklace until she felt suitably repentant. Now to get Max on board.
‘What do you mean there’s no money in our account?’ Rob asked the bank teller, cradling his wrist. The pain in his hand throbbed with his pulse, and he spun around at a sound behind him: Claudia had pulled home-loan brochures from the display racks and was shoving them down the front of her skirt.
‘Leave it, Claudia! Come here!’ he said, cringing as his voice echoed under the bank’s cathedral ceilings. At least there was only one other customer at the branch. The fewer witnesses to this embarrassment, the better.
‘I checked the accounts the other day. They were getting low, but there should be enough money left to pay for small things,’ he said, his voice sharp.
The girl behind the glass partition tapped at her computer, a quizzical look on her face. ‘Yes, I can see we’ve got it all set up as an owner–builder loan, and I see here we gave sign-off for the last stage in December, but it looks like you made a sizeable withdrawal earlier this month. And no deposits since then—aside from a few small incomings.’
Rob tugged Claudia away from the brochure stand, shaking his head as he tried to recall the big outlays that month. It had been tight, but he didn’t think they’d veered into the red.
‘I can’t think of anything besides floorboards, but that wouldn’t have been enough to clean us out. Does it … Is there any … Where did the large withdrawals go to?’
Realisation dawned on Rob even as he asked the question: he’d had to shuffle some money from the home account to the business account to pay for his newest client’s kitchen cabinetry.
‘Look, is there any chance I can get a short loan, or draw down from the home loan account to top up the everyday account?’
The bank teller gave him a sympathetic smile. ‘I’m sorry, Rob, but because it’s a joint account, I can’t do anything without your partner’s approval. Why don’t you make an appointment and we can discuss it together? The bank manager will be back in the office at the end of the week.’
Rob swore and banged a fist on the counter, regretting it when a jolt of pain ran up his arm and the young female teller sprang away from the desk.
Claudia’s little legs worked overtime to keep up as he barrelled across the parking lot. ‘Wait, Daddy!’
Her words made him pause mid-stride.
Look at you, Jones. Bellowing like an idiot, scaring the young teller, and storming around without any thought for Claudia. He kneeled down and picked her up. Can’t you get anything right?
He worked through the list of outstanding invoices as soon as he got home, but again, many of the calls went straight to voicemail.
‘Hi Mrs O’Brien, checking you got the invoice for the porch extension I finished before Christmas? If you can please take care of that, I’d very much appreciate it. Thanks.’
He then called the suppliers who were yet to deliver products he’d been waiting on, to ask how they’d feel about a short payment extension.
Angie would be home tonight. What am I even going to say to her? By the time the sun had set, he was more than ready to load up his gun and head into the scrub. Maybe Mum will have a good suggestion or two.
Rob jogged to the sandpit. ‘C’mon, Claud.’
Claudia bounced onto his back and he strode across to the dairy, relieved to see Rosa feeding the calves. It wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have within his father’s earshot.
‘Hello, poppet. Hey, Rob,’ said Rosa, smelling of milk and lavender as she leaned in to hug them both. ‘Come to feed some calves?’
Rob lifted Claudia down and she hurried to the tiny animals, listing off their names as she patted each one.
‘This one’s Princess Sparkles, this one’s Peppa, this one’s Bob, this one’s Hamburger, this one’s Boris …’
Rob turned to Rosa, his voice low and urgent. ‘Mum, I’ve ballsed up. Nobody’s paying their invoices and the bank’s put a freeze on our account. Credit card’s maxed out too. It’s a dog’s breakfast. How can I even tell Ange?’
He pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing this news would be ten times harder to admit to Angie. There was no way around it—he was going to have to tell her as soon as she got back.
Rosa lifted a finger in the air and raised an eyebrow. ‘Maybe … we could loan you some money, so you’ve got some breathing space to sort things out? Angie wouldn’t need to know. It’d just be a quick loan until those invoices come through. No sense having money sitting in our account when you’re in strife,’ she said with a shrug.
Angie woke up refreshed in the late afternoon.
‘It’s all to do with the way you look at things. Rob’s a good man. Trust him, love. Don’t be so hard on one another,’ Angus assured her. She started her car and headed for home, embracing the unexpected burst of optimism.
There must be something about a new baby arriving that boosts hormones and gives perspective, Angie mused, as the Grampians disappeared in her rear-view mirror. They’d finish renovating and move into the cottage, things would go back to normal and they’d start thinking about the future.
Angie smiled as she drove, and leaned over to turn the stereo up. Dad was right. Glass half full or glass half empty? It’s my decision.
Rob loped across the
paddock. His head was so full of money worries that he didn’t register Max behind him until he was halfway over the fence that divided the two properties.
‘Uncle Max,’ said Claudia, wriggling off Rob’s shoulders and jumping to the ground.
Rob put his hands on his hips. ‘Come to toss your five cents in, have you?’
Max ran a hand through his thick black hair and screwed up his face. ‘Eh? I’ve caught something on camera, but if you’re gonna be a dick …’
Rob snorted. ‘I don’t have time for another candid-camera tosser.’
‘This’s a shitload better than that. Trust me.’
Rob shook his head. It’d been a long time since he’d trusted Max, but something about his brother’s tone made him lean in. He shielded the screen with his hand, straining to see the grainy images.
‘Changed the camera to night mode last night, and bugger me dead if I didn’t catch this bastard. Look.’
‘Jesus,’ said Rob, watching as a sixties Land Cruiser ute drove into the shot. A short man jumped out of the ute, looking over his shoulder. With a stubby in one hand, he dragged a large dog crate across the tray and then unlatched the tailgate.
‘If he’s a hunter, where’s his gun? And those dogs look too small to be pig-hunting dogs,’ said Rob, studying the small shapes running around in the crate.
‘Keep watching,’ said Max.
But instead of dogs, two small piglets raced out of the crate and dived off the edge, disappearing into the scrub.
Rob swore and looked at his twin.
‘They are being deliberately released.’
‘Now we’ve gotta find the bastard behind it. Can’t be too many FJ45 Cruiser utes in Port Fairview, right?’
Rob froze as he realised what Max had just said.
We.
He hesitated. He’d accept Brett’s help; hell, he’d even consider accepting Alex Bloody Richardson’s help if it meant fixing this problem and making it up to Angie; but Max? He thought about Rosa’s plea. Could he really give his brother a second chance?
