Dust of the Land Page 13

  Garth sipped his whisky, then said, ‘What the hell,’ and tipped it down in one gulp. ‘My first for a week,’ he said.

  ‘Then I’m sure you can manage another one.’

  ‘I wouldn’t say no.’

  ‘Your first for a week,’ Bella repeated. ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘Whisky and flying don’t mix,’ he said. ‘It’s taken me the best part of a week to get here.’

  ‘From the Pilbara.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Wherever that may be,’ Bella said.

  ‘Past the black stump and keep going,’ he said.

  ‘Am I supposed to know what that means? I’m English, remember.’

  ‘It means to hell and gone. Head northwest from here. Just before you fall into the Timor Sea, stop. That’s the Pilbara. I got a cattle station there.’

  Classical Greek might have been easier.

  ‘The Johnsons have twenty thousand acres,’ Bella said.

  She saw that Garth Tucker did not look too devastated by the news.

  ‘Mrs Johnson thought it would make them big landowners. But it doesn’t, does it? Not in this part of the world?’

  ‘Not real big.’

  ‘Your place bigger?’

  ‘Properties tend to be bigger up there,’ Garth said.

  ‘How big?’

  ‘Miranda Downs is a million and a half.’

  Bella stared. ‘Acres?’

  ‘Two thousand square miles, give or take.’

  ‘You own two thousand square miles of Australia?’

  It was hard to get her head around it.

  ‘Doesn’t mean much; it’s the cattle make the difference. Cash on the hoof, the cattle.’ He laughed. ‘That’s what I tell the bank, anyway.’

  ‘And how many cattle do you have?’

  ‘Hard to say. No fences, see, and the bush is pretty dense. I’d guess about forty thousand head.’

  ‘Give or take,’ Bella said.

  His trademark grin stirred her like a spoon; God, he was an attractive man.

  ‘Right,’ he said.

  ‘So you’re a millionaire,’ she said, to tease him.

  ‘For what it’s worth.’ Again the smile, like a slow-burning fuse. ‘Cue for you to say I’m the first you’ve met.’

  ‘Is that so?’

  She enjoyed fencing with this man. In truth there was a great deal she was enjoying about him.

  ‘Her father’s an earl,’ Jennifer said.

  Garth began to laugh, then saw the confirmation in Bella’s face. ‘Bloody hell!’

  ‘But she’s nice, all the same. When you get to know her.’ Jennifer was obviously enjoying the impact of the news on her audience.

  ‘Am I supposed to call you Princess, or something?’

  ‘Can if you like,’ Bella said.

  ‘But seriously?’

  ‘Seriously, no. I don’t have a title. I wouldn’t have, even if my parents had been married.’

  ‘And they weren’t?’

  Bella shook her head slowly, watching him and smiling.

  ‘Thank God for that,’ Garth said with feeling. ‘Aussies aren’t much for titles and such.’

  ‘And marriage?’

  ‘My mother used to say it was the biggest mistake she made in her life.’

  ‘Did she mean it?’

  ‘The old man could be a bastard, at times.’

  ‘So am I,’ Bella said.

  ‘That was your parents’ doing. My dad managed it on his own. Mind you, he was the one made the money originally.’

  ‘How did he do that?’

  ‘Had a lucky strike at Halls Creek.’

  Bella looked blank.

  ‘Halls Creek was the site of a gold rush in 1880,’ Garth explained. ‘Dad was one of the lucky ones.’

  ‘He found gold?’

  ‘Enough to buy Miranda Downs and stock it.’

  ‘And you’ve carried on the good work.’

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘And what brings you to Charters Towers, Mr Tucker?’

  ‘The name’s Garth. Gold brought me here, Bella. I’m a cattleman at heart and always will be, but I’m interested in mining, too. Got the itch from Dad, I suppose. I thought I’d take a look at the mines here, see if any of them are worth reopening. I doubt anything will come of it, but it’s worth a look. In any case I wanted to look up the Johnsons. A mate of mine sold them the property and I told him I’d see how they’re settling in.’

  ‘You came all this way for that?’

  ‘It’s what people do in the Outback.’

  Where everything, it seemed, was larger than life, men included.

  ‘I’ll show you your room,’ she said.

  Garth fetched his bag from the plane. The children had lost interest and wandered off during their conversation but Bella went with him.

  ‘What sort of plane is it?’

  ‘A Tiger Moth. I call her Minnie.’

  It had two wings, one above the other, held in place by a complication of struts and wires; the open cockpit had room for the pilot and one passenger.

  It was difficult to think of questions when you did not understand what you were seeing, but Bella did her best. ‘Does she go fast?’

  ‘Hundred miles an hour. Three-hundred-mile range. It’s the transport of the future, especially for people in the Outback.’

  ‘I haven’t seen any around here,’ she said.

  ‘Not dinkum Outback.’ He grinned. ‘Back home there’s not even roads.’

  To be somewhere even more remote than this… It was hard to imagine.

  ‘It sounds wonderful.’

  The words were out before she knew it.

  Garth looked at her quizzically. ‘It’s not for everyone.’

  He grabbed his case from the cockpit.

  ‘There’s oil around the propeller,’ Bella said.

  ‘Shh! You’ll hurt her feelings.’

  Heaven help us, Bella thought. Yet it was encouraging to find a man who was such a far cry from Mr Johnson, someone not only physically attractive but with a quirky sense of humour, too. He was about as different from Charles Hardy as it was possible to be, too, yet perhaps that was a good thing: already, within an hour of meeting him, she had discovered she fancied him a lot. It was the first time since Charles that she had felt even the slightest interest in a man and she welcomed it, hoping it was a sign that she was beginning to get over her loss.

  She thought she was attracted to Garth Tucker not only physically but by the unfamiliar. Charles had been a true man, in his way, but still boyish and answerable to his father. Garth Tucker was also a man, strong and intensely masculine, and he was answerable to no one. She couldn’t imagine why that thought should excite her but it did.

  They walked back to the house.

  ‘It must be wonderful to be up there with the countryside spread out below you,’ Bella said.

  ‘Take you for a spin while I’m here,’ he said. ‘If you like.’

  ‘You sure it wouldn’t be too much bother?’

  ‘I would like it.’ He grinned, his blue eyes appraising her frankly. ‘It would be a new experience. Not many earls’ daughters in the Pilbara.’

  ‘I believe it would be very interesting,’ she said.

  Now there’s a word, Bella thought. Interesting in what way? And did not seek an answer.

  She left him to unpack, walked on to the verandah and looked out at the bush flowing back until it reached the foothills of the Great Dividing Range. It was empty country, still at the moment, but as she’d seen in their journey north a sudden wind could raise dust storms in seconds. They seldom lasted long but, when it happened, Bella could taste the dust for days. Tasting the land, she thought. It gave her a sense of belonging: as though, with the dust, she was breathing in the essence of the country.

  Yet Garth had said this was not the true Outback. To be so far away, dependent on yourself for everything… It gave Bella the shivers – of excitement, fear? – e
ven to think about it.

  A vehicle had crested the distant ridge. Trailing dust, it headed down the track towards the house. She went into the house and knocked on Garth’s door.

  ‘Mr and Mrs Johnson are coming,’ she said.

  Garth Tucker stayed a week. At mealtimes and in the evenings he talked with the Johnsons, although for the most part he watched and said little. At other times he focused his attention on Bella.

  He took her up for a flight, as he had promised. Bella, who had expected to be terrified, enjoyed it.

  He took her with him when he borrowed the car to drive into Charters Towers. They went three times, checking mining records in the Town Hall, poking about what remained of the old workings. Once he took her into what he called an adit: a tunnel slanting deep into the earth that would connect somewhere, he told her, with the main shaft.

  It was as black as death inside the tunnel, the roof so low they had to bend double to make any progress at all. The beam from Garth’s torch emphasised rather than dispelled the blackness, and Bella was glad when they turned back. When they emerged the sunlight was like a blow.

  Thank goodness, she thought.

  ‘And will you be digging up lots of lovely gold?’ she said.

  Garth shook his head. ‘At present prices it would cost too much to get out. I knew that the first time I looked at it.’

  ‘So why did you keep coming back?’

  ‘Coming back with you,’ he corrected her. ‘There’s a difference.’

  ‘Devious,’ she said.

  ‘My speciality.’

  ‘I shall have to remember that.’

  ‘There’s gold in the Pilbara,’ he told her. ‘Not much. Iron, too, somewhere. The experts say I’m wrong but I can smell it.’

  ‘Mrs Johnson said you’re a widower. Do you have any children?’

  ‘A son. Colin. He’s nineteen.’

  A year older than she was.

  On his final day Bella walked with him to his plane.

  Garth said: ‘I wanted to ask you something.’

  ‘So ask.’

  ‘You were saying your father’s an earl back in England.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Yet you seem so adaptable. I mean, this life’s got to be a lot different from what you’re used to.’

  ‘My mother was a chambermaid and is married to a fisherman. Her father dug bait for a living. Maybe that’s where I get it from.’

  A flock of small birds with bright yellow wings came swooping. They settled on the grass and began pecking at seeds. Bella watched them, conscious that Garth was inspecting her.

  He said: ‘You remember when I arrived, telling me how you’d make the house more comfortable if it was yours?’

  ‘I hope you haven’t been quoting me to Mrs Johnson.’

  ‘My place is like a tip.’

  Bella’s heart went thump.

  ‘Staying out there, you forget what it’s like to live in a civilised way. It’s only after seeing this place that I realise how much my son and I need a housekeeper and I liked what you said about making a house into a home.’

  ‘You want me to be your housekeeper?’

  ‘You like the country. You relate to it: I can feel it. We get on well together. And I’ve watched you and Mrs Johnson. I’m not convinced she’ll stick it out. Even if she does, you are very different people, so I am offering you the chance to move on.’

  She had told herself repeatedly she would leave the Johnsons the first opportunity she got. But she also remembered Mrs Johnson’s words. They say he has a terrible reputation. She remembered the panic she had felt on the boat when Mr Johnson had come into her cabin. The Pilbara was the ends of the earth: Garth had said so himself. What would she do if he tried a Johnson on her?

  She was a modern girl; no more than her mother was she unduly concerned about what Mrs Johnson would have called her virtue, but she and no one else would decide whom she would take into her bed. She wasn’t afraid he would attack her but she could well imagine his propositioning her. The way she was feeling at the moment she might well be happy with that, but what if she wasn’t? At the very least it would be awkward. And if she said no and he chucked her out, where would she go?

  She was tempted by his invitation and was certainly drawn to him but physical attraction was a long way from love. To go to the Pilbara with this man would be to risk her entire future, and that was something that for the moment she was not prepared to do.

  ‘I’ll leave it for now,’ she said. ‘But thank you for offering.’

  He seemed unconcerned. ‘Change your mind, drop me a line care of the Wyndham post office.’

  She patted Minnie’s side. ‘Take care of him for me,’ she said, surprising herself once again.

  He took off. She watched while the plane dwindled to a speck and disappeared. The sound of the engine lingered but eventually that too was gone. She walked back to the house, asking herself whether she had made the right decision or not. Either way, it was too late now.

  Charters Towers was dead, or close to it. With the gold mines working it would have been a busy place but now even the idea of prosperity had flown. Unemployed men polished their shoulders against the walls of buildings and the few women Bella saw wore furtive expressions and shuttered eyes.

  She had brought the two girls into town to buy something for their mother’s birthday. She doubted there would be much choice but that didn’t matter; the only present that would have lifted Mrs Johnson’s spirits was a return ticket to England.

  The general store smelt of kerosene and sold everything from farm equipment and seed to clothing and trinkets for the home, all piled in heaps with no attempt to display them properly. There was one other customer in the shop, a tall, lean man in a broad-brimmed hat. Even he was not buying anything but talking to Mr Wright the shop owner, a man with a big belly and a mean mouth.

  ‘Mate, I can’t help it if the goods haven’t got to Townsville yet. Soon as they arrive I’ll get ’em out to you. I can’t say fairer than that.’

  ‘It’s not good enough,’ the shopkeeper said.

  ‘You got a gripe,’ the tall man said, ‘take it up with Sydney.’

  ‘How’m I supposed to keep my customers happy?’

  ‘I can see ’em rioting,’ the tall man said, looking around the deserted shop.

  Bella found a framed picture of an Alpine snow scene that she thought Mrs Johnson might like, also a cheap pink paper parasol that Angela fancied but that Mrs Johnson would probably never use. Never mind, Bella thought; it was the thought that counted.

  She paid from the money Mrs Johnson had given her. The two items were double the price she’d expected but she said nothing. They left the shop at the same time as the tall man.

  ‘Mean as snake’s piss,’ he said, and touched the brim of his hat to Bella. ‘Pardon my French.’

  ‘I’ve heard worse,’ she said, smiling.

  He looked at her, head cocked, eyes questioning. He had an interesting face.

  ‘New in town?’

  ‘I’m with the Johnsons. They bought the old Macdonald place. Mr Johnson is planning to run sheep on it.’

  ‘He’d be better off with cattle. You a relation of theirs?’

  ‘I’m the governess.’

  ‘Paul McNab,’ he said, extending a horny hand. ‘McNab’s Hauliers. Anything needs hauling, I’m your man.’

  She laughed. ‘I’ll remember that.’

  She saw him again, once or twice, over the next three months. They exchanged smiles and the occasional word. He was always cheerful. Quite an achievement, given the state of the world, and she liked him in a casual way, thinking nothing of it.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The Johnsons had gone to a party. They had been invited by a farming family on the other side of town and had driven over in their motor, warning they would probably stay overnight.

  It was a chilly evening. The stars were crackling and there would be frost later. Bella had p
ut the children to bed at eight o’clock and an hour later was thinking of following them when she felt a breath of cold air as the kitchen door opened. At once she was rigid, listening. The light was still on out there but she hadn’t thought to lock the door; in the months they’d been here Garth Tucker had been their only visitor. There was a gun in the Johnsons’ bedroom but it was locked up. There were knives in the kitchen but that was where the intruder was. She was helpless.

  Footsteps, a stumble, a soft curse. Bella listened, the sweat cold on her back. A shadow in the doorway. A man entered, bringing darkness.

  ‘Well, well, the lovely Bella…’

  It was Johnson, but relief changed rapidly to alarm as Bella realised he was drunk. She remembered The Southern Star and a shiver ran down her spine.

  Swaying, Johnson made his way to the settee and fell into it. He smiled owlishly and patted the cushion beside him. ‘Come and sit with me,’ he said.

  Apart from the children, they were alone in the house. A nerve pulsed in Bella’s stomach. She did not move. ‘I didn’t expect you back tonight,’ she said. ‘Is Mrs Johnson with you?’

  ‘Mrs Johnson is unavoidably delayed,’ he said.

  Bella didn’t like this at all but was determined not to let him see her feelings. ‘I didn’t hear the car,’ she said.

  He placed a crafty finger alongside his nose. ‘Because I did not want to disturb the beautiful Bella. In case she was asleep in her lonely bed.’ He shook his head sadly, as though at a profound truth. ‘It makes no sense.’

  She pressed her knees together. She had no idea what he was talking about but had no plans to ask.

  ‘You in your cold bed, me in mine,’ he said. ‘When we could be warming each other.’

  ‘I don’t like you talking like this,’ she said. ‘I think you should go to bed.’

  ‘An excellent idea. Let’s go together.’

  She would not allow panic to get the better of her. ‘Stop it, Mr Johnson! Stop it this minute!’

  ‘Give me a kiss first.’

  Fear changed to anger and anger gave her strength. She stood up. ‘You’re talking nonsense, Mr Johnson. I don’t want to hear any more of it.’

  She saw her words strike home.

  ‘Good God, girl, I was only teasing.’ Johnson tried to repair his tattered dignity. ‘Where’s your sense of humour?’