The Bark Cutters (28 page)

The warm evening breeze caressed Sarah as she circumnavigated the rough dam bank and moved to a spot on its far side. Beneath a belah tree, the last of the day's light disappearing, she watched five kangaroos and their young scratching for grass. The joeys sniffed their mothers, hopping a short distance away to stare hopelessly about them. The older roos, their grey
fur ragged and coarse, maintained their hungry search, claws seeking out hidden roots, ears twitching in constant surveillance. Edging nearer to the dredged silt, Sarah pursed her lips, whistling loudly to scare them away. They could smell the water dredged up with the silt, but would be bogged down as soon as they got near it, too weak to escape. They hopped away quickly in the direction of a trough filled with water for other stock in the house paddock.

‘How are your war wounds?'

Sarah, lost in her thoughts as she sat on a log near the dam, barely heard Anthony as he hunched down beside her. Instinctively she raised a hand to carefully touch the embedded particles of dirt covering the left side of her face from cheekbone to jaw. ‘Sore,' she replied truthfully, debating how she was going to bring up Colin's attitude towards her.

‘I just came over to collect some papers. Saw you sitting here.'

Sarah found herself examining the fine golden hairs on the deep tan of his forearms. She glanced at the men's quarters, the lights of which could be seen clearly through the tall trees about a kilometre away. She opened her mouth to speak.

‘Yes?'

‘Nothing.' The last thing she wanted was for them to argue. ‘Well, it's about Colin.'

‘You do know that we've only got two full-time station hands left? The other two were laid off six months ago.'

‘Yes.'

‘We're using contractors for the fencing, but if we need anyone else it's almost impossible to get help now. Heaps of blokes have either headed up north or they've moved to the coast to get work.'

‘I was talking about Colin.'

‘So am I. There is a drought on, Sarah. It's hard to get staff.'

‘I know but –'

‘Let's not talk about Colin. Let me take care of it. That's why you employ me, right?'

It was the first time Anthony had ever spoken of his position on Wangallon in that way. It seemed strange, like there was a wall between them. ‘Okay.'

Anthony rested his back against the tree trunk. For every two paces forward with Sarah, there were three in reverse. First the accident, now Colin complaining Sarah wanted him fired. He watched her staring at the stars clustering in the darkening sky. They were always brighter out here away from the deflecting city lights, a ceiling of suspended crystals.

‘Not as clear as it usually is. The dust really clouds the atmosphere.' Anthony spoke quietly, pleased that at last they could at least sit and talk. They only had Wangallon in common, he realised, that and an emotional past. Someone told him once people were drawn together for only two reasons: common interest and/or common passion. Maybe Wangallon wasn't enough. ‘My dad's just purchased an adjoining property,' Anthony offered. ‘I could return home if I wanted. There would be enough land for me and my brother.' He waited for a response. Now that the opportunity to return home had presented itself after all these years, it held no interest for him. His life was at Wangallon. Sarah was right all those years ago when she'd told him that the place got into your blood. It had. Anthony stared at the wide-eyed girl opposite him, wishing, not for the first time, he knew her thoughts.

‘Would you leave?' Wangallon without Anthony was an unimaginable future. Sarah shivered slightly, struggling with the implications of a yes or no answer.

‘Probably not.'

The tingling of relief caused Sarah to smile, to touch his arm slightly, wordlessly.

‘You're going tomorrow?'

‘Yes. But I've promised Grandfather I'll come back up for the picnic races.'

‘Excellent. You'll save me a dance?'

‘Sure.' She thought of Jeremy, wishing she could ask him to join her, knowing that he wouldn't come. ‘Absolutely.'

Anthony grinned. ‘I'll keep in touch, let you know how old Angus is going.'

‘Yeah, well he is getting on, but his mind is still as sharp as a tack.'

He was running out of inane things to talk about. ‘I'll start looking for another horse for you.' He left her sitting at the base of the tree.

‘That would be good, thanks Anthony.' A tinge of sadness placed an edge of regret in her voice. She was sorry to be leaving this time. It was the first time she'd experienced that emotion since Cameron's death.

Sarah poured herself another glass of merlot and sat back in the canvas deck chair on her balcony. The sun was just setting as she sipped, listening as Jeremy proposed a short getaway for the weekend. Down below the shouts of teenagers leaving the park carried up to them on the warm breeze.

Smiling encouragingly, Jeremy squeezed her hand. ‘I've booked everything,' he said excitedly, ‘and rearranged my schedule especially.' From the small wrought-iron table, he opened a folder and retrieved a brochure with a picture of a cute cottage in the Blue Mountains. ‘You'll love it.'

Sarah looked at the picture of the quaint cottage hugged by trees and pots of flowering plants. It did look enticing.

‘Well?'

Sarah knew that this was Jeremy's way of apologising for the way he talked about the flood at the charity auction a fortnight ago. And considering they had barely spent any time together
recently, she knew a trip together was just what they needed. ‘I'd love to go, but –'

‘Excellent,' Jeremy smiled, bunching up the sleeves of his baggy blazer.

‘Unfortunately I have a shoot tomorrow.'

‘Can't you change it?'

Sarah shook her head slowly. She could hardly tell him she had already brought the shoot forward so that she could keep her promise to her grandfather and fly up for the picnic races the following weekend. ‘I'm sorry, I really would have liked to have gone.' He was frowning in annoyance. ‘You should have discussed it with me first,' she finished, feeling guilty.

‘Then it wouldn't have been a surprise,' Jeremy commented, tucking the brochure back in the folder. Picking up his empty wine glass, Jeremy walked back inside the apartment and deposited it on the kitchen bench beside the beautiful bunch of flowers he had arrived with.

Sarah decided it was definitely not the time to tell him about her trip north for the picnic races. As if on cue, the telephone rang, breaking the awkward silence.

‘Sarah, it's Anthony. How you doing, kiddo?'

‘Good, Anthony.' She looked hesitantly at Jeremy who rolled his eyes in response before slamming a kitchen cupboard. She sat down on her pale pink couch, pushing a stack of photography magazines to one side.

‘Thought you'd like to know that I've found you a horse.'

‘Really? That's great,' she answered less than enthusiastically as Jeremy stacked their coffee mugs in the dishwasher.

‘A nice little mare, ex-hacker actually. Only cost five thousand.'

‘Is that good?'

‘Absolutely. Old Angus said it was a bargain. He's fit by the way and looking forward to your next visit.'

‘Right.'

‘Picnic races?'

‘Yep,' Sarah said trying to make the conversation brief.

‘Good. I'll be speaking to you then.'

‘Thanks, Anthony.' She replaced the receiver, ‘Anthony's got me a new horse.'

‘They just can't leave you alone, can they?'

‘Hey,' Sarah walked into the kitchen. ‘I asked him to call. I like to know how Grandfather's doing.' She placed her hand on Jeremy's arm, only to be shrugged off.

‘You know he's in love with you.'

‘In love with me?' Sarah blew out a puff of air. ‘Now that is a good one.'

Jeremy looked at her carefully. ‘Whether or not you see it, Sarah, is immaterial. It's plain to me he cares for you and that Angus would welcome him into the family.'

‘Look, Grandfather loves Anthony. I know that, after all, Anthony is the one helping to keep the place going.' That much was true, Sarah thought as she walked back to the couch. Jeremy followed her. ‘As for Anthony, he's just looking out for me.' Sitting closely beside her, Jeremy took both her hands in his.

‘They both want you back there and I guess I can understand it. There aren't too many properties as large as Wangallon that are still privately owned in New South Wales and you are the sole heir.'

‘I'm here, aren't I?' The statement hung between them awkwardly. Patting his thigh reassuringly, Sarah tried to ignore the feeling of unease in her stomach. Since her last visit home she'd dreamed of the brown swirl of creek water, of long-legged grey cranes stalking at the water's edge and of birds dive-bombing each other as they refreshed themselves in the water. It was a dream that woke her with the crisp, dry air of a fragile landscape. ‘So can we postpone the trip?' Eager to divert the
topic away from Wangallon and Anthony, Sarah suggested another date.

‘That date doesn't suit,' he scratched his head in annoyance. ‘Besides, I've paid for everything up front and money's too hard to make to blow it. I think I'll go anyway.'

‘Really? By yourself?' This was definitely at odds with Jeremy's character.

‘What am I meant to do?' his voice tightened, ‘I'm taking your lead, Sarah. You're the one that's usually going away. In between your job at the studio and your own landscape shoots, you're barely around. Shelley and Kate see you on a more regular basis than I do.'

‘You're right,' Sarah agreed.

‘I'll use the time to do some business planning,' he said slowly as if thinking aloud. ‘The accountancy practice is short of funds and I have to think of something to keep the business liquid. You know Dad left it to me and I have to try to turn things around.'

‘I'm sorry, I didn't realise.'

‘Well I haven't been dragging you all around Sydney attending functions for the hell of it. I did tell you I needed some new clients.'

‘I'm sorry, Jeremy.'

‘Yeah well, the firm is my inheritance. If you think about it in the same terms as Wangallon, you'll get a pretty good idea about what it means to me.'

‘Of course.' Heavens, Sarah couldn't believe that she had been so self-absorbed. ‘How much trouble is it in?'

‘Enough,' Jeremy stated in an I-don't-wish-to-discuss-this tone. ‘Things wouldn't seem so bad if we had more time together. I love you Sarah,' he laid the palm of his hand against her face, softly cupping her chin. ‘I want us to be together but sometimes I feel like your old life is dragging you away. Look, I have to go. I have
to meet up with a prospective new client and I promised Julie I wouldn't be late. He's her old boss.'

‘Julie?' Sarah tried not to sound annoyed. ‘On a Friday night?' Sarah almost wanted to say that she would go to, but of course it was a business meeting and Julie was only trying to be helpful.

‘Every day's the same, Sarah.' He kissed her softly on the forehead.

Perhaps that was the problem between them, Sarah considered as the apartment door clicked shut. Every day was the same. Sometimes she felt her life was no longer her own. It was controlled by work, by deadlines, by the bus schedule and the state of her bank balance, by Jeremy and Wangallon and her grandfather and her emotional responses. There was never any time for her dreams. Out on the balcony she watched Jeremy drive away. Nearly three years seemed a long time to be devoted to someone. He was an attentive partner; thoughtful, sensitive to her needs and a great lover. Perfect, Jeremy was the perfect partner, and he admired the loyalty she felt towards her family, even if he had told her on more than one occasion that it was a little skewed. Perhaps she had just not given enough serious consideration to a life with Jeremy.

Saturday's shoot, headshots for a young actor, was completed within two hours and by lunchtime Sarah was back in her apartment. It was a beautiful day and there was nothing to stop her from jumping on a train and heading up to Katoomba to join Jeremy. Sarah tapped her nails impatiently and glanced at the silver-rimmed clock hanging above the kitchen cupboard. It was a little after 1 p.m. By the time she had a shower, threw a few things in an overnight bag and booked a taxi to Central railway station, she would probably arrive late afternoon. She
dialled the number on the brochure Jeremy had left behind the night before.

‘Blue Gum Cottage.'

‘I was wanting to speak to Jeremy Barnett please.'

‘They've gone out for the afternoon, dear.'

‘They?' Sarah queried.

‘Yes, dear, I expect them back before dinner though. Would you like to leave a message?'

A ripple of nervousness stirred in the pit of Sarah's stomach. ‘No, that's okay. Thanks,' Sarah replied as politely as she could. With great control she replaced the receiver. Who on earth was Jeremy with? She looked at the brochure, read the description of the bed and breakfast carefully.

Sarah thought of the meeting last night, of Julie Miller once again doing all she could to support Jeremy in his business, and burst into tears.