Silver Clouds (4 page)

Harrison turned his attention back to the land beneath him. A flock of galahs was coming in to land at a waterhole. He could imagine the noise. Their squawking could send a man mad. And the way they dug up new shoots and the grass, well, they were nothing short of a nuisance.

‘Turn just slightly,' he instructed. ‘I want to have a look at the dam in Saltbush paddock and then at the tanks on the boundary, okay?'

Cally nodded and Harrison went back to observing the station from above. Splashed across the white limestone soil were clumps of blue bush and mallee trees.

Flying was the quickest way to check the station he managed for a large farming family who lived in the city. He flew across the whole property once a week and it only took three hours. To drive over the full 250,000 hectares would take two or three days.

‘There's Joe's ute.' Harrison pointed out the old horse breaker's vehicle near the dam.

‘Look, he's standing on top of the tank!' Cally pointed at a small figure not much bigger than a sheep. ‘What
is
he doing?'

‘Checking the float, at a guess,' he answered, peering down. ‘Guess we'd better not wave, then. We don't want him falling off.'

Cally giggled.

Harrison took in the large bodies of water lying in shallow hollows. The previous fortnight's rain had cut gouges across roads and washed floodgates away.

He saw the glint of a windshield beside a fence line and was pleased to note two of his employees were doing repairs. ‘Dip your wings,' he said.

Cally gently turned the steering wheel downwards then up again.

A few minutes later they were flying over the boundary tanks. Harrison spotted wires pulled away from the posts and lying on the ground. Two large strainer posts were lying across them. The weight would stop them from springing back up and laying flat. A mob of cattle were grazing towards it.

Damn! They were at it again.
By hell, he wished he knew who it was, dropping fences and encouraging stock from one station to wander to another! It would have to be fixed. His eyes flicked over the instruments as he reached towards the radio mike and changed the frequency. ‘Got a copy down there, Maz?'

‘Gotcha, boss.'

‘The fence on the top boundary has been dropped deliberately. Can you have a look when you're finished there?'

‘No worries. We'll have a bit of a scout around.'

‘Good on you. Cheers.'

Harrison turned back to the window and searched the landscape for anything that seemed out of place. There was nothing. It all looked normal. Who was doing this?

A few minutes later, he'd seen all he needed to. ‘Righto, my aircraft,' he said.

Cally took her hands away. ‘Your aircraft,' she responded the way she had been taught.

Harrison angled the plane towards Danjar Plains and twenty minutes later they were descending.

‘G'day, g'day.' Harrison's neighbour Ryan Mathison nodded as they approached the ute. He looked at Cally. ‘Hi, sweetie. How are you?'

‘Hello,' she answered, staying close to her father.

‘Sorry to hear about Violet,' Harrison said as he held out his hand.

Although Ryan was shorter than Harrison and, if you boiled him down, you'd be unlikely to get enough fat to make a cake of soap, his grip was still vice-like. Ryan never cared much about his appearance and usually his flyaway brown hair flopped over his eyes and ears. But his wife, Marni, must have cut his hair recently. It was shorter than Harrison had seen it.

‘Thanks,' Ryan answered.

When he smiled, all the tension left Ryan's face. Harrison had long suspected things weren't happy within Ryan's marriage and he was sure that Violet's death wouldn't help. He knew Marni had enjoyed spending time at the old lady's home.

‘Any talk of a funeral?'

‘We're thinking Friday or Saturday.'

Harrison grabbed Cally under the arms and swung her onto the tray of the ute.

‘Dad!' she protested.

‘Sorry, force of habit. Now hold on!'

Cally rolled her eyes.

The two men climbed into the front seat and pulled the doors shut. Soon they were bumping down the two-wheel track towards the homestead.

‘So what can we do to help? That's why we're here.'

Ryan shrugged. ‘Better talk to Mum and Dad. They've told the cops and we're just waiting for the doctor to sign the death certificate.'

‘What about getting Spider to town? I can take her in the plane if you like.'

‘She had it all organised. She's going to be buried here.'

‘Of course she did.' Harrison gave a rueful grin.

Peggy and Paul were standing on the verandah when the ute pulled in. Harrison sat for a heartbeat and looked at his friends, before opening the car door and climbing out.

Peggy looked tired and drawn around the eyes and Harrison suspected Paul's feelings were running high behind his cool façade. But being strong country people they would just be getting on with what had to be done, organising the funeral, running the station and looking after their own.

At the sight of Cally, Peggy held out her arms. ‘Cally, darling. It's good to see you. Goodness, look how much you've grown!'

Harrison grinned as his daughter fell into Peggy's hug.

Peggy had been a godsend when Ange had died. After the funeral, she had packed a bag and driven the 150-kilometre trip to his place at Mundranda. For two weeks she'd stayed, cooking and cleaning and looking after the animals. She'd filled the freezers with enough food for six months and held Cally when she'd cried and explained the harsh realities of life in a way the young girl could understand.

In fact, with Ange gone, Peggy and Violet had been the only female influences Cally had, although Harrison had tried hard not to nod and smile in agreement when Cally had whispered one night that Aunty Spider scared her witless.

Paul was walking towards him, his hand held out. ‘Nice of you to drop by.'

‘Sorry to hear about Violet,' Harrison repeated.

Peggy gave Cally one last squeeze. ‘Tea? Coffee?' she offered.

‘Cup of tea would be great, Peggy. Thanks.' He accepted the kiss she landed on his cheek and sat down with Ryan on the verandah.

Paul joined them. ‘How'd you fair with the rain?'

‘We got eighty millimetres on the top part of the station, but only sixty at the homestead. Bloody lakes everywhere and a bit of fencing's underwater. Real lucky the strip has dried out, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to get off the ground. I had a quick buzz over your place but didn't see any problems.'

‘Thanks for that,' Ryan said.

‘I'll tell you what I did see, though. My top boundary fence has been laid down. It's still in the fence line but with enough of it on the ground to let stock walk through.'

‘Is that right?' Paul said slowly.

Ryan let out an angry breath. ‘Bugger me, I'd like to get hold of whoever is doing this and hang them up by their toenails,' he muttered. ‘You know, we reckon we lost about eight hundred ewes last year? Thieving bastards.'

‘I know it's not the time to be talking about it,' Harrison said. ‘I just wanted to let you know, so you could keep an eye out here.'

‘Thanks. We appreciate it, don't we, son?' Paul turned to Ryan.

‘Yeah, we do.'

Conversation turned back to the rain – a popular subject in these parts. Then the men fell silent, and they sat listening to Peggy teasing Cally inside the house. Harrison knew the ritual hair brushing and French braiding would be taking place. That and food was how Peggy showed her love. Harrison suspected Peggy missed her daughter very much, but never let on.

Cally's giggle filtered through the air again and he couldn't help but smile too. He loved to hear his daughter laugh; he worried she didn't do it anywhere near often enough.

Cally appeared with a tray of cakes and biscuits. As he had suspected, her hair had been brushed and pulled back into a French braid. As she put the tray down, her shirt pulled tightly around her chest, showing the unmistakable swell of small breasts. Harrison stared in disbelief. He looked more closely at her and noticed her face had altered slightly, matured. He realised with a shock that she was not a little girl anymore. There were the definite makings of a young lady. Shit. When had that happened?

Cally noticed him staring. ‘What?'

‘Nothing, love,' he stammered, hoping he had hidden his shock. ‘Thanks for smoko.'

‘Peggy's coming with the drinks.' She grinned and almost skipped away.

Harrison's heart ached. She was still a child! A child, not an adult. He wished he could keep her the way she was forever. He really wasn't prepared for this!

Peggy deposited a tray of cups on the table and began to pour the tea.

‘Thanks, Peggy,' Harrison mumbled, leaning in to take his drink and help himself to something to eat. He was still shaking off his paternal shock.

As if reading his mind, Peggy glanced over her shoulder and said quietly: ‘She's growing up.'

‘I know.'

‘Boarding school next year?'

Harrison nodded.

The silence was filled with the cawing of crows circling over the chook pen, hoping to snatch an egg or two. Harrison watched as one landed on the ground, then, using his claws and beak, climbed up the netting and stuck his head in the gap where it met the tin of the laying shed.

‘Cheeky beggar,' Ryan said.

Peggy laughed. ‘He won't get in. Marni made sure of it. She's stuffed some of Ryan's old jocks down there!'

‘Eeww!' Cally had reappeared, holding a cold glass of Milo.

Everyone chuckled.

‘Where's Marni?' Harrison asked.

‘Resting,' Ryan answered. ‘Last couple of days have been a bit hard for her.'

‘I bet it has. The Nullarbor's such a different world compared to other places. Even coming from a farming background, like Marni has, doesn't prepare you for the isolation, or harsh realities of life does it? It's hard to adapt to. And she loved Violet like she was her own.' He shook his head sadly.

‘Hmm,' agreed Ryan, looking into the distance.

‘So.' Harrison shifted in his seat. ‘Can Cally and I help in anyway?' He looked around at his friends. ‘Can I fly you anywhere, pick up anything? I'm here to help.'

Peggy spoke. ‘I can get most of the food out on the Sands truck. It delivers every Friday. But Tessa is arriving in Kalgoorlie on Wednesday. If you were able to pick her up and grab me a few of the perishable things we'll need, I'd appreciate it.'

‘Consider it done.'

Paul glanced over at Peggy. ‘Guess that makes the best day Saturday, doesn't it? Pastor Allan is available and it gives us enough time to get the word out to people who need to travel to get here. And for you to get the food ready.'

Ryan and Peggy nodded in agreement.

‘Saturday it is, then,' said Paul, the resignation clear in his voice.

‘Won't take long for everyone to find out,' said Harrison, thinking of how quickly news got around in the small community, despite the distances. One radio call and everyone who was listening knew.

As if on cue, the phone rang.

Chapter 4

The plane journey passed in a blur of wine, broken sleep, pre-packaged food and bad movies. As Perth came into view, Tessa looked out the window, trying to place familiar landmarks. She ran her tongue around her lips and mouth, trying to summon some moisture, then shook her head gingerly. She was annoyed with herself that she'd once again forgotten the mathematics of in-flight alcohol: one glass of wine equalled two in the air. Seven glasses meant fourteen and a monumental headache. Idiot!

Goosebumps spread across her skin as she saw the jacaranda trees and the Swan River below.

She sighed.
Home
, she thought.
Home
.

But the closer she got the more her anxiety grew, hardening into a dry lump at the back of her throat. Now a quiet terror hung over her. It wasn't just the loss of Spider or her shame that she'd let her great-aunt down. And it wasn't only the fear that someone at Marketing Matters may find out about John Smith. The silent, creeping dread that had her gripping her seat as the plane descended was also caused by the same old remorse and guilt she'd been carrying around with her for the last seven years.

Even the thought of arriving in Perth terrified her, which seemed silly – Perth had been her home for years. She'd gone to boarding school there, then uni, then work. And at first, she'd loved living in the city. Boarding school had been wonderful and liberating. Her friends Jaz and Kendra had made her transition from Station Girl to City Girl easy.

Then Kendra had been killed at Danjar Plains one school holidays, and Tessa's world had turned upside down. However many times Kendra's family told Tessa it wasn't her fault, she could never quite believe she wasn't in some way culpable.

Another wave of emotions took hold. Tessa didn't know how to deal with any of it. She was certain of only one thing – that she was broken.

Breathlessly she asked a passing flight attendant, who was on her way to her seat, for a bottle of water. Then she turned to the window again. Cars snaked their way down the freeway towards the towering city offices. Tessa could pick out the St George's building where she'd interned for the first few months after she finished uni.

When the plane finally shuddered to a halt, and the passengers disembarked they were herded like a mob of sheep through Customs. After what felt like hours, she collected her luggage and gathered herself. She still had another flight ahead of her, to Kalgoorlie, and so needed to get herself across to the domestic terminal. Picking up her bags, she took a deep breath. Then she headed outside through the open sliding doors.

The heat hit her. A sweat broke instantly across her brow and she felt moisture begin to gather between her breasts. How could she have forgotten this? Familiar, but also foreign, the burning sensation was like an invasion. How little time it took to acclimatise to a different environment; to soften up! Squinting, Tessa found her sunglasses and put them on, then found her phone.