South of Capricorn Page 4

  What a mess! What with having to bribe Leta to hold her tongue, and she herself having to be so guarded, Gail was beginning to regret her impulsiveness in requesting this lift. She felt sure that the station official, if pushed hard enough, would somehow have managed to get a car for her. He could have telephoned the nearest town for one. But even the wait for the Overlander would have been preferable to this anxiety. And the position was made even more difficult by the fact of Dave’s being an employee of Leta’s father. ‘Why didn’t I think?’ she asked herself angrily. ‘True, the wait at the station would have been irksome, but in the long run it would have been far less wearing on the nerves.’ She turned automatically as she said this. Leta was right in the corner, her lids drooping. But she was able to make a face at Gail before she closed her eyes, allowing sleep to claim her.

  ‘I’m glad I’ve had your company, Gail,’ Dave was saying in his pleasant Australian drawl. ‘It was bad enough being on my own coming over, but to have returned on my own—well, I’d have been bored sick without a doubt!’

  ‘The people whom you were supposed to pick up—will you have to go back later to fetch them?’

  ‘I don’t really know.’ He frowned, obviously perplexed as to why they had not arrived, ‘I can’t think what happened. They ought to have let the Boss know—they could have got in touch with him over the air. He’ll do his block when he knows all this time’s been wasted.’

  ‘They were friends of his?’

  ‘No, they were two men who wanted jobs. They’d worked at Vernay Downs before, as rouseabouts—that’s a sort of odd-job man—but they decided they wanted to taste the delights of town life and buzzed off to Brisbane to find work. However, they’ve obviously had enough, because they wrote to the Boss asking for their jobs back. They were good workers, so he readily agreed to re-start them.’ Dave shook his head and repeated that the Boss would be furious when he knew what had occurred. ‘However,’ he added with a sidelong glance at her, ‘he’ll be glad that I found you and gave you a lift.’

  ‘Yes.’ She said no more, but felt profoundly conscious of his curiosity. She wished she could confide in him, because he was so friendly and charming towards her. ‘The two men might have missed the train,’ she suggested, veering the subject on to safer lines.

  ‘They could have,’ he agreed, but the frown remained. ‘That won’t make any difference to the Boss.’

  He paused a moment. ‘You haven’t said much about yourself and I haven’t asked because I always make a point of waiting for people to confide. If they don’t talk then I conclude that it’s because they don’t want to. Besides, Kane Farrell’s my employer and I wouldn’t think of prying into his affairs. But I would like to ask how long you expect to be at Vernay Downs?’

  ‘Not very long at all,’ she replied gently. She had been going to add his name, for he had told her to call him Dave, asking at the same time if he could use her Christian name. But, somehow, she felt as if the use of his name would sound far too familiar—just this particular moment, that was.

  ‘I see.’ He glanced curiously at her. ‘It’s a long way to come, just for a short stay.’ The element of disappointment in his voice was plain and Gail knew instinctively that he was a lonely man. ‘I wish you were staying longer, Gail. I’d like to have got to know you better.’

  ‘It isn’t possible. When I’ve done what I came for, with Mr. Farrell, then I must go home. I live with my parents, and I have a job.’

  ‘I see,’ he said again, and lapsed into silence. Gail herself experienced a shade of disappointment that he and she would never get to know one another, and she wondered greatly at her feelings. No man had appealed to her up till now, not seriously, that was, And of course Dave did not appeal in any serious way, not at present ... but she did wonder if, given the opportunity, she and he could have become firm friends, at least. Well, it wasn’t to be, and all she was concerned with was handing over Leta to her father and then getting herself away from Vernay Downs as quickly as possible.

  The long journey continued, with Leta alternately waking—and making a nuisance of herself—and sleeping, which afforded Gail and Dave an opportunity of chatting together without the continual interruptions which invariably took the form of complaints, and which quite clearly exasperated Dave. Yet on the stops he did try to pacify the child; he had a way with him, and there were the odd times when Leta listened attentively to him, answering his questions intelligently and conversationally. He declared that she was the brightest child he had ever known, and this seemed immediately to endear him to her. He refrained from saying anything which would anger her, and once, when they had finished the snack they had been having, he asked Leta to wipe the cups when he had washed them. To Gail’s utter amazement the child did as she was requested, and it certainly was a strange sight to see Leta with a tea towel in her hand, drying a cup—awkwardly, it was true, but showing willing all the same. Also, he suggested she use her toothbrush, this after an earlier display of tantrums when Gail had tried to persuade her to clean her teeth,

  ‘I have no water,’ said Leta, but Dave was already filling a cup from a flask. ‘Oh, thanks,’ returned Leta cheerfully on being handed this. ‘I don’t like cleaning my teeth, but I’ll do it this once—for you!’

  Gail dared not glance at him, for she knew the child so well that any sign of triumph on her part, or conveyance of congratulations to Dave, would instantly bring out the worst in the child.

  ‘She could be trained,’ was Dave’s assertion later when Leta had fallen asleep. ‘If I had her I’d make a nice kid out of her.’ Very different this attitude from that which he had exhibited at first, thought Gail, and wondered if, when Leta was installed in the Farrell household, Dave would take over and bring about this transformation he had mentioned. Gail rather hoped he would, because she was basically sorry for Leta, even though she could not bring herself to like her. Dave lived in at the homestead, he had told her. Two other men also lived in, because they were unmarried and only those with wives were allowed to occupy the bungalows.

  However, this interlude of being good was soon to be offset by Leta’s getting into a temper over the length of the journey. She was fed up, she said, and wanted to go back home.

  ‘You can’t, little girl,’ began Dave soothingly, when he was interrupted.

  ‘Don’t keep calling me little girl! It sounds stupid! Turn round and let’s go back. I don’t want to go to my—’ She did break off there, and Gail uttered a great sigh which she felt sure Dave must have heard. ‘I don’t like sitting in a car all this time!’

  ‘We’ve not very far to go now. Suppose we stop for a nice little something to eat?’

  Leta said yes, they would stop, but this time when Dave asked her to clean her teeth she flatly refused, stamping her foot to give emphasis to her words.

  ‘Come on,’ he said, holding out the glass of water, but Leta did no more than knock it up, sending the water into his face. His temper flared and, seizing her by the arm, he shook her thoroughly, making no apology at all to Gail. Leta, managing to free herself, kicked him and ran away.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ said Gail, angry and ashamed. ‘I don’t know what to say,’ she added helplessly.

  Dave’s eyes met hers.

  ‘She’s not your child and yet you bring her here. But I expect you know what you’re doing,’ he added, watching Gail’s colour heighten as embarrassment swept over her, Once again she told herself she ought not to have accepted this lift from him. But it was done now, and fortunately Dave, with his great respect for his employer, was not asking too many questions. In fact, from then on he made no further reference either to Leta or to the visit to Vernay Downs, but his silence seemed to be in itself a censure and for the rest of the journey Gail felt most uncomfortable.

  It was late afternoon by the time the homestead came into view. For the past hour Leta had been at her most unpleasant, with complaint after complaint coming from the back of the car. There was a short perio
d of peace when Leta became intensely interested in a mob of kangaroos which came into sight. They drew closer, and several emus were also to be seen. When one kangaroo came into the road she urged Dave to increase his speed so that he could hit it.

  ‘You want the car to be wrecked?’ His voice was curt and wrathful. ‘What sort of a child is she?’ he demanded of Gail, who mentally agreed with his following assertion that Leta would benefit from a good hiding, but of course she did not say so. Pacify the child at all costs, was her one thought, because Leta in this mood was liable to forget her promise and deliberately begin talking about her father, the man to whom she was going—Kane Farrell, Boss of Vernay Downs Station.

  ‘Is that the house?’ Leta wanted to know as they turned into the path leading to the stately homestead which, Gail suddenly recalled, Sandra had once described to her, the description having obviously been given to her by Kane Farrell.

  ‘Yes, that’s where we’re going,’ from Dave curtly as he slowed the car down in preparation for stopping altogether.

  ‘I don’t like it—!’

  ‘You haven’t seen it yet,’ put in Gail hastily. ‘You’ll like it when you get there.’

  Turning his head, Dave asked the question which Gail expected he would ask, and she could have slapped Leta for opening her mouth,

  ‘Is it so important that she likes it?’ Inordinately curious the tone, perplexed the stare. ‘If you’re not staying then what does it matter whether she likes the place or not?’

  ‘Please, Dave, don’t ask me any questions,’ said Gail impulsively, ‘You’ll know it all soon enough—and I’m going to feel dreadful!’

  The car ground slowly to a halt; turning right round in his seat, he stared at her in silence for a long moment, taking in the honest eyes, the full generous mouth, quivering slightly for she felt scared of being questioned. At length he shrugged his shoulders and said without much expression,

  ‘You’ve no need to feel bad about anything, Gail. It’s your own affair and therefore it has nothing to do with anyone else.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  ALL around the homestead, and the adjacent buildings among which were a number of bungalows, a shop and a school, lay mile upon mile of spinifex plain; where numerous cattle roamed, the stockriders in their midst. Gail stood for a moment after alighting from the car, and she wondered how these men could choose s lonely a life.

  ‘I’ll see where the Boss is,’ Dave was saying, a sort of impersonal formality in his voice now. ‘I’ll find him and tell him you’re here.’

  ‘Oh...’She frowned in thought, experiencing a strange weakness at the knees now that the actual moment had almost arrived. ‘Yes—er—tell him Miss Stafford is here.’ Miss Stafford. He would remember the name, surely, and would naturally conclude that it was Sandra who was here. What would he think? Gail dismissed the question at once, since she would soon know what he was thinking!

  The opening of the front door cut her musings and she turned around, as did Dave; she noticed his frown and the tightening of his mouth. A woman stood there, tall and dark, her angular figure giving the impression of arrogance, her inquiring gaze the impression of officiousness.

  ‘What...?’ She looked from Gail to Dave, and then to the small child who was already snapping the heads from some flowers in the border. ‘I saw through the window that you’d brought these two—’ She broke off and told Leta to leave the flowers alone.

  ‘I won’t!’

  ‘Leta,’ sighed Gail, by now practically exhausted by the child, ‘come here, please.’

  All Leta did was to wander farther away, towards a seat under a tree, where she sat down and swung her legs, her eyes on the woman on the step.

  ‘Dave,’ demanded Mrs. Farrell haughtily, ‘what is all this? Who are these people, and where are the two rouseabouts you should have fetched?’ Her dark eyes roved over him as she spoke; he made an impatient gesture, and his frown changed to a scowl. It was more than a little clear that he intensely disliked his employer’s stepmother. Nevertheless, he explained as briefly as he could, bypassing the several interruptions which the woman so rudely made.

  ‘I’ll just take a walk over to the saddling paddock,’ he then said hastily, before Mrs. Farrell could ask any further questions. ‘The Boss might just be there. If not,’ he went on looking at Gail, ‘then he’s with the men, and I’ll have to saddle a horse and ride out to him.’

  Looking in the direction indicated, Gail hoped that Kane Farrell was not too far away; she wanted to get this thing over and done with as soon as possible. Moreover, she had no desire to be left too long with Mrs. Farrell, who even now was glaring again at Leta, preparing to call over to her to stop kicking the gravel about, the multi-coloured gravel that lay on the path which Leta was now traversing, her doll, wearing only a coat, trailing along at her side, its hand in hers.

  ‘He’s over there,’ Dave was saying. ‘I’ve just caught a glimpse of him. He’s the one by the bore-trough—’ He pointed and, following the direction indicated, Gail saw for the first time the man whom she hated, the despicable cad who had in her opinion caused Sandra’s death. He was not too far away and she could see that he was a tall man, that he sat the horse as if he were far more comfortable there than in the most luxuriously upholstered armchair. From Kane Farrell Gail brought her attention to the woman standing on the step, a woman ready to ply her with questions. And, making a quick decision, she decided to take Leta over to her father at once.

  Dave stared when she announced her intention of going to him, but merely shrugged when he saw her begin to walk away, calling to Leta to come to her. The child obeyed, already having been well briefed both on the plane and since. She knew she was soon to meet her father and, judging by the way she ran to Gail, she was most certainly looking forward to the encounter. Strange, unfathomable child, mused Gail as she walked briskly towards the narrow, dust-covered path on either side of which grew tussocks of myrtle-green spin- ifex grass, contrasting with the dainty golden wattles which abounded beneath the casuarina trees lining the banks of the creek. There never was any knowing what went on behind that preoccupied expression which Leta invariably wore.

  ‘You’re walking too quick for me,’ complained Leta.

  ‘I’m in a hurry.’ Gail was afraid that the woman, unable to contain her curiosity, would come after her. But as it happened it was Dave who caught her up, by which time her heart had begun to beat abnormally and a dryness was affecting her throat. At home in England—and even on the flight and the car journey over the vast bushlands—her task had seemed simple and straightforward. But now that the time for carrying it out had arrived she felt both nervous and apprehensive. However, the vision of Sandra forced her on and her resolve never wavered.

  ‘I’m going to speak with the Boss,’ said Dave, ‘so I’ll walk with you.’

  ‘I thought you said you were intending to ride?’

  ‘I hadn’t expected him to be at the bore-trough. That’s no real distance.’ That he wanted to be with her was plain, but Gail frowned inwardly, picturing herself carrying out her task with Dave as a witness. It was unthinkable, and she said involuntarily,

  ‘If you’re wanting to see him about the two men you should have picked up, then I’ll give him the message if you like?’

  Dave shook his head, saying the Boss would expect the explanation to come from him and not relayed secondhand, as it were.

  ‘You don’t mind if I walk with you?’ he added when involuntarily she slackened her pace.

  ‘No, of course not.’ Her mind became blocked inexplicably; she was vexed because no real picture of the scene shortly to be enacted could be focused. She was troubled about Leta, doubtful as to whether she would carry out the instructions given to her. The prospect of dolls’ clothes should help, and Gail had also promised her an extra box of chocolates, which she had thoughtfully brought with her as an added bribe to the four glossy picture books and imitation gold bangle which Leta had demanded.

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nbsp; The distance was almost covered before Dave spoke again. He was smiling slightly as he said,

  ‘You have the men puzzled; they’re all looking this way.’

  Gail saw the men staring in disbelief and supposed it was a strange sight for a woman and a little girl to be striding over this wild and ruthless terrain. It was tra-ditionally man’s country, this austere bushland called the Outback where wealthy graziers ruled like kings over their vast domains. Kane Farrell’s head was also turned; a frown of puzzlement knit his brow as his lazy glance shifted from Dave to Gail before finally settling on the child. She looked as bright as a button in her coloured clothes, her gay cap and scarf. The doll still trailed at her side, forlorn and minus a shoe. Kane Farrell, eyes narrowed against the setting sun, brought his interrogating gaze back to Dave. Gail stopped, her hand clasping that of Leta. The time seemed all wrong, she ought not to have acted precipitately, But it was done now, and anyway, Kane Farrell deserved to be shown up before his men. And so, sending him a direct look and at the same time urging Leta forward with a hand in the small of the child’s back, Gail said in clear and ringing tones,

  ‘Mr. Farrell, let me introduce your daughter! Leta, say hello to your father—’

  ‘My—!’ His expression changed to one of stupefaction and Gail was gratified to note that he was bereft of speech. She noted also the astounded expressions of the stockmen, heard the staggering exclamation that came from Dave. ‘What did you say?’ Slow the drawl and crisp. ‘I have a feeling that I didn’t hear aright?’ Sliding from his horse as he spoke, Kane Farrell slowly crossed the space separating him from Gail and Leta. Gail had time to see six feet odd of perfectly formed muscle and bone before he was above her, and she tilted her head right back to look into eyes the colour of slate-grey, hard inscrutable eyes that seemed to be boring into her very mind.