Out of Alice (8 page)

‘Well!' She snapped the lid back on the box and tossed the dregs of her tea. ‘Maybe we should found a club for the divorced? There's probably others like us out here,“in the mulga”.'

‘We'd get a few takers all right.'

‘D'you know it's nearly three o'clock, Jack?'

He cast an eye at the sun. ‘Christ, that late? I've got a bore to check yet. We'd best get going.'

The sun was low when they arrived back at the homestead. Sara collected her hat, lunchbox and the thermos while Jack emptied the water bottle out over the roots of the supplejack tree at the end of the shed. ‘Waste not, want not,' he intoned. ‘Thanks for your company today.'

‘Thank
you
for taking me, Jack; it was most instructive. I can't wait for the driller to come now.'

‘So I've converted you from thinking it's gypsy hokum?'

Sara laughed, mouth wide under her foolish hat. ‘I can't deny what I felt.' The words hung between them, innocent though they were of any second meaning, as he walked to the front of the vehicle and felt for the bonnet catch.

‘The proof'll be in what they find.' He triggered it as he spoke. ‘See you later, then.'

The clang of the goat bells told Sara the flock was coming home. A tearing sound in the horse-paddock scrub made her stop to watch a willy-wind powering through the timber, its dust coils rising, like some monstrous red snake, from the parched earth to stain the sky. Sara had glimpsed her first one from the bus, a roiling spiral gathering in dry leaves and bits of old vegetation as it tore across a spinifex-dotted flat. She heard Jess bark and Becky's shrill yell at her to
‘Come be'ind!
' Three galahs swung from the wireless aerial, crests erect and pink wings stretched wide as they surveyed their world upside down. They shrieked derisively at her as she passed beneath them.

‘Show offs,' Sara murmured. The side gate clicked behind her and she ran up the kitchen steps, suddenly glad to be alive.

‘Enjoy yourself?' Beth looked up from the vegetables she was chopping.

‘Yes.' Sara pulled her hat off. ‘I did. Very interesting.' She held the straw up, considering it. ‘Beth, do
you
think this is a silly hat?'

‘Well, it's not perhaps very durable.' Beth raised a single eyebrow, something her brother could also do. ‘Why? Jack's been poking fun at it, has he?'

‘He seems to think it's a joke,' Sara admitted. She filched a round of carrot and crunched it. ‘How's Sam?'

The smile left Beth's face. ‘His temp's gone up again. He's had almost a full course of antibiotics too. If it hasn't dropped by morning, I'll get onto the doctor.'

‘I'm sorry,' Sara said. She looked at the preparations underway. ‘Anything I can do here?'

‘I'm right, thanks. But you could tell me about the divining. Did he get a hit?'

‘He pegged three sites. It was the most amazing thing, Beth!' She looked down at her arms, remembering. ‘He held my wrists and I felt the stick move. It was like trying to hold a tree up when the pull came. Anyway, he seemed pretty satisfied. Has he done many bores? I mean, where they've drilled and got water.'

‘Oh, yes. The neighbours have used him, here and round Arkeela. There's an old chap in Charlotte Creek, a miner – used to scratch after tin – he does a bit of divining too. The stick works for different people.'

‘For you?' Sara asked.

Beth shook her head. ‘Mind, it's not foolproof but then you can't tell with a dry hole if they simply didn't go deep enough. It's an expensive business, drilling. It's charged by the metre, and at some stage you have to decide whether to stop or risk going on.'

‘Yes, Jack said.' Sara hung her hat alongside Sam's and stood contemplating it. ‘He's right. It is silly. He mentioned his wife today,' she said, turning back to the table. ‘What happened there?'

Beth snorted. ‘Marilyn was on the hunt for a husband, that's what. Everybody could see it but him. If ever there was a case of crossed wires! She was a city girl, cute as a kitten, and hell bent on having things her way.
He
thought she was going to settle down for life at Arkeela, and
she
thought she could get him to sell up for her sake and take a job in town. Only she didn't mention it till
after
the wedding. So it must have been quite a shock to them both once they realised neither was going to yield. Of course, she couldn't see why anybody wouldn't, but a team of draught horses couldn't get my brother out of the bush. Marilyn liked her comforts so when she realised what she'd let herself in for, she quit.' Beth scooped the chopped vegies into a basin. ‘If you're quick, you'll have time for your shower before Becky gets in. Now I'd best go check on how Sam's doing.' At the door she looked back. ‘By the way, you realise it's only a week till the school holidays start? Ten days of freedom. You could take a trip into the Alice if you wanted. Shop, get your hair cut, chill out.'

Sara patted her troublesome curls to hide her flinch at the thought of venturing back into the world. Of course, it was unlikely her stalker could know she had come through the Alice – only he had somehow found out about Mildura, hadn't he? She cut off the thought as she ran her hands over the hair bunched on her neck. ‘Or I could just borrow some scrunchies from Becky. I'll think about it.'

Later, lying in bed, Sara stretched luxuriously and wondered about the upcoming holidays. She could fill the days quite adequately at Redhill: helping Beth, doing a bit in the garden, reading (there was a filled bookcase in the lounge), accompanying Jack and Becky on the bore runs. Len seemed to leave this task solely to his brother-in-law. Alternatively she could, she supposed, overcome her irrational fears and head for the roadhouse – Jack would probably take her – to catch the bus into the Alice. She had quite liked what she'd seen of the town and it would be easy to put in a few days there. She could indeed visit a salon, drink a cappuccino again, contact the city branch of her bank and have them forward her mail to the local branch . . . She could even have them send anything that came direct to Redhill. Sara had resisted leaving any other forwarding address at the post office, fearing that her stalker would uncover it. Now that seemed an unnecessary precaution. Where was the harm in having it sent to her? It was foolish to imagine that the man could still be looking for her. She turned her pillow, which had grown warm even with the fan churning away above her, thinking about the air conditioning in the Alice, and the swimming pools she'd find, if she chose the right accommodation . . .

Hours later Sara woke to the thunder of booted feet hurrying along the boards past the open French windows. As the boots clattered down the front steps, she sat up groggily and felt her way onto the verandah. Stars were visible and a faint wash of light from the front of the house. Whoever had gone out must have turned on the front floodlights in the yard.

Something was wrong. Sara, crossing back into the room, snapped on her own light and snatched her wrap from its hook behind the door. Beth was also up, her voice came faintly through the wall along with the sound of drawers sliding in Sam's room. Sara went hesitantly to tap on the open bedroom door, catching sight as she did so of the boy's pale, puffy face and bloodstained mouth. She gasped in shock and Beth met her horrified glance.

‘He's ill,' she said tersely. ‘I'm just packing. Len's rung the base and the doctor's on the way.' Her voice was steady though her face was tight and strained, and a nerve quivered at the corner of one eye.

‘What can I do?' Sara tried to match her calm. There was a basin of discoloured water and a bloodstained towel on the floor. ‘I'll get rid of that.' She scooped them up, saying gently to the boy whose lacklustre eyes seemed hardly to register her presence, ‘You'll be fine, Sam.' He made no response but as Sara exited the room, she heard him speak, his voice alarmingly weak and thready-sounding.

‘Mum?'

‘I'm here, darling. Shhh now, everything's okay. Remember our practice? Just breathe slowly, that's it. I'm here and you're not going anywhere without me. I swear to you you're not!'

Sara grabbed a clean towel from the linen cupboard and slapped the kettle onto the gas. Outside, a vehicle roared away and another came towards the house. The kitchen clock showed three a.m. She wondered how the doctor's plane could possibly land in the dark. She hadn't even known there was an airstrip at Redhill; obviously there was, but what about lights? Pilots had to be able to see where the ground was. She couldn't bother Beth with questions, so returned to Sam's room with the towel and a fresh basin of warm water to clean his face.

‘I'm filling a thermos for you,' she said quietly. ‘Anything else?'

‘The mattress from the daybed, and sheets.' Beth was stroking her son's face. ‘Len's bringing the vehicle. We'll lay him on the back to carry him out to the strip. And I'll need you to look after Becky, Sara. We're both going with him, but Jack'll be here. You won't be alone. It might be –' her voice cracked – ‘a little while till he's better.' In her eyes Sara read the knowledge that this time they might lose him and she shook her head, denying it.

‘He'll make it, Beth. He will!'

It was as if she hadn't spoken, or dread had made Beth incap­able of taking the words in. ‘Do you think you can manage?'

‘Of course I can. Becky will be fine. Will Len come to the front or the back?'

‘The back. And thank you, Sara. I don't know how we'd manage without —'

‘Jack would see to everything,' Sara said briskly. ‘You know he would. I'll get the mattress. What have you forgotten to pack – toothbrush, money, shoes?' Beth was wearing her old house slippers. ‘Better change those.' Sara pointed. ‘Did you remember a nightie?'

‘No.' Beth kicked off the slippers. Sam's breathing had evened and his eyes were closed. His mother stole from his side to snatch up her shoes, one of Len's shirts and the nightclothes from their disturbed bed. Five minutes later they were all outside in the dim wash of the kitchen lights where the vehicle waited. Len lifted his son onto the mattress while Beth scrambled over the tailboard to sit beside him. Sara thrust the thermos into the cab and handed the two bags up to Beth.

‘All set?' Len called from behind the wheel.

‘One moment. Is it far? I'd come too,' Sara said quickly, ‘only I can't leave Becky. If she woke and found us all gone . . .'

‘Stay,' Beth said. ‘I'll ring when – Take care of my daughter, Sara.'

‘I will, don't worry. Not about us, anyway.' Sara reached to touch the woman's shoulder. ‘I'll be rooting for you all, especially you, Sam.' The boy's eyes were open. She saw the whites of them in the faint light, and that a trickle of blood had leaked from his mouth to stain his chin. ‘Good luck! Okay, Len.'

Sara was not religious; the thought of praying was foreign to her, but as the vehicle pulled gently away she sent with it her desperate desire that all would be well, that the doctor would come in time and with the necessary skill to save the vehicle's precious cargo. And, she realised, she still had no idea how far it must travel to the airstrip.

It turned out to be no more than three kilometres. Sara made herself a coffee and waited for the sound of the plane. The ticking of the clock seemed to fill the kitchen as the hands crawled past four a.m. She rinsed out her mug and went to the front verandah to turn off the outside lights, then had second thoughts. What if they'd been left on to help the pilot locate the place? She switched them back on and checked Becky, who was sound asleep, then returned to her own room and made her bed. It would be dawn soon anyway and she was too wound up to even consider sleeping. Finally a hum in the air resolved into a drone and then the decelerating roar of a plane coming in to land.

‘Thank God!' Sara said, the words an unconscious prayer. She went to the door to listen, hearing the small night sounds she had come to ignore – the creak of mill rods, a night bird's call, the scritch of the lemon tree branch against the side wall. For the hundredth time she resolved to trim it back, then with a shattering roar the plane engine came to life again and she heard it take off. Standing out in the garden, she watched the flashing wing lights until they vanished, noting that the star Becky had told her was Venus was at its apogee, meaning dawn was on its way.
When it goes down, it's coming up daylight,
the child had said. Sara hoped fervently that Sam would live to see it. She switched off the outside lights and returned to the kitchen to light the gas again to make tea for Jack.

He came at last, hatless up the kitchen steps, a rumpled shirt hanging over his jeans, face dark with stubble. ‘You still up? And you've made tea. What a woman!' He yawned and sat down at the table.

‘How was Sam when they left?'

Jack grimaced. ‘Put it this way, I've never seen a stretcher loaded so quick. That take-off was damn near vertical. Poor bloody kid. Poor parents too. If they lose him . . .' He drank his tea, gave her a wry smile. ‘Well, never a dull moment in the sticks, eh?'

‘It seems not. Just for interest's sake, Jack, how did the pilot land in the dark?'

‘He didn't. There're flares for night landing. In this case pots of dirt soaked in fuel. You string 'em along the flight path and light 'em up when you hear the plane. That's what I was doing. If you should ever need to do it, you'll find they live inside the marker tyres down the side of the strip.'

‘I see.' Sara thought of the alternative, the long, bumpy drive to the bitumen with a couple of hundred kilometres to travel after that. ‘Thank God for the flying doctor!'

‘You're not the only one to say that, believe me.' He glanced at the clock as the first tentative rooster's crow sounded from the chook pen. ‘I'll give it another hour, then ring Mum. She'll want to be there for Beth.'

‘Of course. I'd forgotten your parents were in the Alice.' Sara felt vainly for the combs that she had forgotten to put in, pushed her curls back, then shrugged and let them flop back over her brow. ‘That's a comfort; she and Len'll have somewhere to go for a shower and a meal. I imagine they'll offer to spell them at the hospital too – your mum and dad, I mean.'