Catherine Jinks TheRoad (41 page)

‘Well, don’t get in a state about it. There’s nothing we can do now.’ Verlie sighed, rubbing her wrist across her forehead. ‘At least we have a caravan to sleep in. Supplies. A camp stove. What about that poor family we left back there?’

‘I told you,’ said Ross, ‘it wasn’t my fault. According to the map, we were less than half an hour –’

‘I
know
, Ross. I know. I just wish we’d told them that the farm was within walking distance, that’s all. At the very least.’

They struggled out of the car, stiff-jointed, and made prepara
tions. Ross kept assuring Verlie that someone would be along soon – that he would flag down the next passing car, and request that the driver contact someone about their plight – but Verlie ignored him. Even if someone
was
driving in the outback at night, and happened to encounter them in the next fifteen minutes, rescue would still be a long way off. They were miles from anywhere, and dusk was falling. The smart thing to do was to make dinner and prepare for a bit of a wait.

The caravan, untethered, lurched from side to side as Verlie pottered about finding spaghetti, knives, onions.

‘I’ve left the hazard lights on, but it’s going to drain the battery,’ Ross observed. He was lighting the camp-stove, at Verlie’s request. ‘I’ll have to turn them off, in a minute.’

‘As soon as you get that going, I’ll boil water for tea. I need a cup of tea.’

‘I just hope we don’t get some idiot ploughing up our backside in the dark. This caravan is so bulky, but I couldn’t bring it across any more, because of that ditch . . .’

‘I’ll put some water in the hot water bottles, as well. It’s bound to get cold, and the heater won’t work.’

Verlie boiled up some spaghetti, then opened a tin of bolognaise sauce, adding a few extra herbs to spice it up. She also made a salad out of some lettuce and rather limp celery, wishing that she had stocked up a bit more; it was difficult trying to chop vegetables in such bad light. She was worried about the Fergusons. They were probably still stranded out there with those poor kids. Remembering what Noel had said before Ross interrupted him – something about a three-hour drive from Broken Hill – Verlie cursed her husband silently for being such a know-all. He was right so often that he simply wouldn’t admit that sometimes he could be wrong.

Oh well, she thought, it’s an adventure. I’ll be able to tell everyone about it when we get home.

‘Verl!’ Ross’s voice suddenly pierced the encroaching silence. ‘There’s someone coming.’

‘Oh.’

‘Can you hear it?’

Verlie listened hard. Over the sound of a trilling insect (a cricket of some sort, possibly) she could just make out a distant hum. It was coming from the south, and seemed to be getting louder. Leaning out of the caravan’s door, she peered down the road, which was being swallowed up in a grey mist as the sun set. Was that a faint beam of light?

‘It’s a car,’ she said.

‘I’ll flag it down.’

‘Be careful.’

‘Do you want to hitch a lift, or stay here and wait?’

‘Stay,’ Verlie replied. She had never hitchhiked in her life before, and didn’t intend to start now. Not at night. Not in the middle of nowhere. Not even if Ross was with her.

Besides, what about the caravan? They couldn’t leave it here, to be robbed and vandalised. Someone was bound to take the television and the video player, at the very least.