Helplessly, she watched the blur of red duco rush up to meet them, followed by a shriek of metal on metal as they collided. The crash threw her backwards, jarring her neck before hurling her forward again, banging her head on the window. She was dimly aware of the never-ending screech of brakes, Max fighting the wheel, tires skidding across the slippery road. It seemed an hour before they stopped.
Caitlin touched her forehead and her hands came away covered in blood. “Max?” she whispered.
For a moment, he just sat there. When he finally turned to look at her, he said nothing. Was he disappointed they were still alive? She tried to open the door, but it was stuck. She looked out the window and saw the car was suspended over the edge of the cliff, one back wheel hanging in the air.
“We’re half over the edge,” she cried. Max came to life. He turned the ignition. The grinding sound came again and again but each time the engine coughed and stalled.
Caitlin wrestled with the door handle. “We must get out,” she cried.
Ignoring her, Max continued. Finally, he mange to start it and gunned the accelerator. The back wheels spun without gaining traction, spitting out rocks and dirt that crashed down the cliff-face. Somehow, the rear wheels caught the ground and the car moved forward. He drove them away from the cliff and pulled up.
“I’m sorry Caitlin,” he said, his face pale, but she ignored him. With a burst of strength she forced open the door and leapt out, running on shaky legs to the truck. The driver was still inside. She pried open his door. He seemed to be unconscious. His head rested on the wheel and he made a noisy, bubbling sound with each breath. She felt for his pulse. It was reedy and faint.
Max stood in the middle of the road with his cell phone. She heard him calling for an ambulance.
As she checked to see if the man’s breathing was unobstructed, he opened his eyes and looked at her vacantly. “Don’t move,” she said. “Help’s on the way.”
As she climbed into the truck beside the man and held his hand, she knew. She could never marry Max.
Chapter Five
“Don’t expect too much of Burrawong,” Harry said, winking at Caitlin as they drove through the bush.
Jake had taken the children to Darwin for the weekend and freed her up to take a trip into the local township.
“I’ve been warned. Jake said as much to me,” she replied as the Jeep careered down the hillside. She’d become used to Harry’s habit of taking his eyes off the road. There was something about him that engendered confidence. You knew if the car broke down or something else went wrong, Harry would calmly fix it.
“It’s what you call a one-horse town,” he went on.
A break in the trees gave Caitlin her first clear view across the plain. The township was a small island nestling against the highway in a vast sea of red and black soil.
When they emerged from a bushy outcrop onto the plain, she saw an extraordinary tree shaped like a big bottle, with branches growing out the top like a vase of flowers. “What on earth is that?”
“That’s a Boab.” Harry laughed. “They always bring a response. There are some around here over five hundred years old. The Aborigines use them for medicine.”
They drove past a worn cricket pitch and a sign saying
Population: 400
.
“Four hundred and one,” Harry said, grinning at her. “A very nice addition, if I might say so.”
“Thank you, kind sir.” Caitlin smiled. She couldn’t get her head around it, so much space and so few people.
Jake had been right. Burrawong was merely a cluster of small, rough and ready houses. The whole place had a transient feel to it. Maybe, few people chose to stay here for long. Harry parked beside the general store and pulled a machine part out of the back of the Jeep. “I’m off to the garage,” he said, pointing over the road. “I’ll catch up with you at the pub. Lunch, in half an hour. Okay?”
Outside the general store, three slender, Aboriginal boys lounged aimlessly, drinking Coke. There was a chemist and a clothing store with an old-fashioned model in the window. She headed for that, hoping to find bathers.
When Caitlin asked the woman behind the counter, she let out a cackle and two women trying on floral dresses stuck their heads out from behind the curtains in the changing rooms to join in.
“Don’t have much call for swimmers in these parts, love,” the woman said. “I did have a pair in a drawer somewhere out the back,” she added. “I’ll go see.”
While she waited, Caitlin checked along a row of gaudy, floral dresses, most were an unfashionable, shirt maker style, like her grandmother wore in a photo taken back in the fifties. She found a pink, wrap-around sundress patterned with tropical flowers. It had cut-away shoulders that would be cool, so she ducked into a cubicle to try it on.
When she emerged the two women studied her.
“That color really suits you, love,” said one. “She’s a pretty girl isn’t she?” she added, as if Caitlin wasn’t there.
“Found it.” The owner came out of the back holding up a purple-and-black ensemble with huge, built-in bra cups. She frowned. “Fraid it would fit three or four of you, love.”
Disappointed, Caitlin added a pair of olive-green linen shorts and a white, sleeveless cotton shirt to her purchase, and then crossed the dusty road to the pub.
Inside the hotel, a ceiling fan turned lazily, moving the hot air around. A few locals, seemingly impervious to the heat, sat up at the bar with Harry, drinking frosty schooners of beer. The wall behind the barman was papered with postcards. Cheery messages from all corners of the globe.
“We get a lot of tourists through here,” Harry said, following her line of vision. “This is the new governess of Tall Trees, Caitlin Fitzgerald,” he said to the men.
The men shyly murmured a greeting.
“An Irish colleen,” an old man said approvingly, raising his glass.
“We had an Irish chap come through here just last week,” one of the men said.
Caitlin’s heart went to her mouth. “What was his name?”
“Didn’t say.”
“What did he look like?” she asked feeling her body tremble.
“Big blighter, wasn’t he?” one asked the other.
“Yeah, fair hair.”
“His age?” She tried to sound casual, but she felt Harry’s eyes upon her.
“He’d be about fifty, wouldn’t he, Gary?”
“Yeah, if he was a day.”
Caitlin sighed with relief, as several postcards from Ireland were removed from their thumb tacks for her to read.
“Let’s go out onto the verandah,” Harry said.
She nodded and followed him shakily outside.
“An old boyfriend?” he asked.
She nodded.
“We’ve all got history around here,” he said. “I’ll get our drinks.”
It was no cooler under the tin roof, but a creeper growing up the verandah poles had pretty white flowers. Caitlin picked one and put it to her nose, the scent reminded her of Ireland and she threw it away.
When Harry returned carrying her drink, he’d let the matter drop. Caitlin was trying to distract herself, studying a notice pinned to a board on the pub wall. “A dance, Saturday night,” she read aloud. “With a local band. How many will come to this? Enough to make it worthwhile?”
“Sure will. They travel from all over. You must come to one of our dances. They rock.” Harry’s hazel eyes studied her over the top of his glass. “Would you like to come to this one, with me?”
“Love to.” She took a swig of ice-cold beer and a delicious chill ran down the back of her throat, cooling her down instantly. “Now I know why people drink beer around here,” she said.
Harry winked at her and raised his glass. He was good company. Even their riding lessons were fun, but she couldn’t help wishing it was Jake. She banished the thought with a frown.
“You okay?”
“I’m thinking of my next riding lesson and wondering if parts of my anatomy will have recovered sufficiently.”
“You’re a natural,” Harry said. She felt his eyes on her. “Won’t Jake be surprised?” He leaned forward. “Would you like me to teach you how to handle a rifle?”
Caitlin seized the opportunity. She needed to be able to defend herself now for her own peace of mind. It occurred to her that she and Harry could be branded as a couple in this small community in no time. And Jake would think it. Why not? She reasoned. Jake wasn’t going to care either way. “Yes, please.”
“The pub does a great steak sandwich. Would you like one? When she nodded, he added. “Onions with that?” There was amusement in his eyes. “I’m having them, and we’ll have your first lesson with a rifle this afternoon.”
She laughed. “I’ll have the lot.”
* * * *
When they got back onto Tall Trees land, Harry parked the Jeep. Walking down into the bush, he set up three Coke cans along a fence. He came back to Caitlin and loaded his rifle, took aim and picked the three off, one by one. After watching each dance away, she clapped her hands. “That’s fantastic.”
“You need to be a good shot in these parts,” he said reloading.
He set up the cans again and stood close beside her. His breath feathered the hair on the back of her neck as he steadied her hand. “The butt of the rifle has to sit against your shoulder,” he said. “Look along the sight.”
He stood back and she squeezed the trigger. The force of the gun exploding almost threw her backwards.
“That’s why you have to tuck it into your shoulder,” he explained.
Caitlin eagerly checked, but all the cans remained untouched.
“You’ll get the hang of it. You just need practice.”
She tried three more times without success. She was determined to hit a can before the day was out, but light was fading fast.
“We’d better go soon,” he said.
“Just one more. This could become addictive,” she said as she took aim.
This time, as the sound of the shot reverberated through the air, a can fell off the fence.
“Did that fall or was it pushed?” Harry asked mildly.
Laughing, Caitlin turned and punched him lightly on the arm. “I hit it. Ye of little faith. Come, we shall inspect the evidence.” She picked up the can and saw the hole through it. Delighted, she showed him.
He raised his eyebrows. “Not bad. You’re a quick study.”
She had to restrain herself from hugging him. “Thanks for that,” she said, giving his shoulder a pat. “You’re a pal.”
Harry cocked his head at her. “Don’t forget that dance.” He took the gun and emptied the shells out into his hand. “I’d better get back, there’s work to do before it gets too dark.”
He left her at the top of the driveway to the house. Caitlin watched the jeep disappear down the hill. It must be a lonely place for the young guys living here, she thought. She knew they took off for Kununurra often and Darwin from time to time. Surely they’d want more than this from life eventually, but Harry had told her the place gets in your blood.
She was beginning to believe it.
Chapter Six
“What are we having for breakfast, Angela?” William asked, climbing on a chair.
“Pig’s bum and cabbage and duck under the table,” Angela said cheerfully, spooning poached eggs and bacon onto plates.
The children squealed with delight.
Jake had been gone from the house for hours. Caitlin had risen early to catch him, but he’d left before daybreak. Today, she planned to give the children a treat and take them swimming.
She wondered who the swimming costumes had belonged to, as she inspected the two sad choices Angela had offered her. She couldn’t see Caroline, whose good taste she was now familiar with, wearing either of them. The plain, black number with thick straps was a size too big, the other, a sea-green satin, still had its tag attached. She pulled it on and looked in the mirror. It was too short in the body, the sides crept high up over her hips and the front dipped very low, barely skimming her nipples. This would have been scandalous, she suspected, if she’d worn it in the days when it was new. She only hoped the material wasn’t rotten and would hold together for the day. She would have to buy one by mail-order catalog as Angela suggested, or wait for a trip to Darwin.
The children fidgeted and pulled away as Caitlin attempted to spread sunscreen on their limbs and faces. “One would think you’d never been in the water before,” she said.
Elizabeth’s small body stilled under her hands. Surprised at her sudden surrender, Caitlin turned Elizabeth around to look at her. “What’s the matter, Elizabeth?”
Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak, as William began to jump around saying, “Hurry up, I’m hot.”
“Elizabeth?” she asked again, waiting.
Elizabeth glanced away. “William and I are really good swimmers, aren’t we William?”
“Daddy taught us,” William said solemnly, “after our mummy died.”
Elizabeth grabbed William’s hand, “
Come on
,” she said crossly to Caitlin.
They began to walk along the worn path through the paddock. Angela said the dam was a long walk from the house over the hill. Caitlin had no idea how long Angela’s description of ‘long’ was. Despite their hats, the sun bore cruelly down on them. Perhaps she should have waited for Jake to return. He could have taken them in the Jeep. But he might not return until dusk and she wanted to keep her promise to the children.
“Keep to the path, please,” she said. She carried a forked stick in her hand and kept a wary eye out for snakes. Goodness knows what she would have done with it, had she been confronted by one.
“It’s too hot,” William complained fretfully.
“We could go to the waterhole,” suggested Elizabeth. “It’s much closer.” She pointed towards a track that led into the bush. “That’s where Daddy would take us. It’s lovely and cool in there.”
“Let’s go to the waterhole.” William ran away across the grass.
“Wait, please,” Caitlin called after him. “I haven’t discussed this with your father.”
“It’s lovely there.” Elizabeth ran after him. “You can see right down to the bottom.”
The sun burned viciously into Caitlin’s shoulders. She knew it would be wise to get the children into the shade. “Very well,” she said. “We’ll have a look. If I don’t think it’s suitable, we’ll go to the dam.”