North Star (4 page)

They'd been working so hard on the house that Kate had barely had a chance to step outside, let alone visit the rest of the property. They couldn't go very far without a four-wheel drive anyway. Her little Apollo was not suitable for the rough terrain of the property—even the driveway had become something of a challenge each day. She'd have to trade in her little car for something more suited to farm life.

Across the yard, back from the main house, was a big machine shed where Kate had played as a child. She wandered over there now, stretching out her aching muscles. Inside, she saw that not much had changed in the years since she'd last been here. An old saddle and other horse paraphernalia still hung over a rail along one side of the shed. Bales of hay, all but disintegrated, covered the dirt floor, and the musty smell of mice droppings hung in the air.

A workbench with long-abandoned tools stood gathering dust; an ancient tractor, parked after a hard day in the field, mud still caked on its tyres, sat looking tired and dejected.

Funny how you remembered places from childhood differently. Sometimes they seemed smaller, less scary than you recalled, and sometimes they were eerily close to how you remembered them.

Like this shed.

This was where Henry meted out his punishment.

A cold sweat broke out on Kate's palms and she balled her hands into fists and shoved them deep into her pockets.

‘Stop it,' she ordered herself quietly. ‘There's nothing here to hurt anyone any longer, it's just a bloody shed and nothing more.'

As she moved towards the old saddle, she caught the scent of leather, horses and sweat. She did wonder if maybe her senses had gone into overdrive—surely after all this time the smell of horse wouldn't linger?—but bending lower she took a deep breath and realised that it did. A fond smile tugged at her lips as she blinked through happy tears. Poor old Penny with her bowed back, dilapidated old stock horse and Kate's best friend—next to Jenny Wilson.

She could hear Liam calling her from outside. Quickly she swiped the tears from her face and hurried out to meet him. He came running towards her with a huge smile on his face and a bundle of something furry in his arms.

‘Mum, I found a cat, can I keep him?' he asked breathlessly.

‘Where did you find it?' The cat looked as though it might be a ginger, but its mottled fur was covered in so much dust she couldn't be sure. Two big green eyes peered at her curiously from her son's arms. ‘It's pretty quiet for a feral cat,' she said uncertainly.

‘What's a feral cat?' Liam's nose screwed up and she saw a trickle of sweat roll down the side of his face. For the first time in ages he looked as a little boy should—happy, sweaty and streaked in dirt.

‘It's a wild cat. One that doesn't live in a house.'

‘Can I keep him, Mum, please? He has nowhere to go and he's hungry.'

Kate cast a sceptical eye over the animal—it was safe to say it wouldn't have been going hungry. There'd be enough rodents around this place to feed an army of feral cats.

‘If you found him here'—if he was a he, Kate thought— ‘then I guess this is where he lives, but he's not coming inside the house. He looks more than happy out here.'

‘Wow, thanks Mum,' said Liam and ran off, the cat bouncing in his arms.

Kate repressed the urge to call out, ‘Wash your hands!' She wanted him to be free to get dirty, even if that meant risking a few germs. She made a mental note to remind him later when he went inside.

Further across the clearing was a long building which Kate remembered had been used as a bunkhouse for workers before her time, when North Star had been a lot bigger. Cautiously, she pushed open the door. She heard the scurry of little claws and let out a squeak of disgust. She poked her head through the doorway, reluctant to go any further until she'd had time to clean the place out. Old beds were strewn around, some with ripped, stained mattresses on them but most just bare skeletons of rusted frames. A sink and bench made up a small kitchen area at one end, and through a door at the other end was a bathroom. Structurally it didn't look too bad, just sad and neglected like the rest of the property.

Over the years there had been a parade of station managers and stockmen. The turnover of staff was high because Henry was such a bad-tempered old coot. As a rule she had stayed away from the men who worked on North Star. And after dealing with Henry Campbell all day, few of them were in any mood to entertain the boss's granddaughter, although occasionally she'd come across one or two who were happy to let her help out with the odd chore around the place.

She often wondered what those station hands had made of the little girl living with her grandparents. As she grew older, she'd lost much of her open friendliness. She became wary around strangers, men in particular. She hated her mother for that. She hated that she'd had the happy innocence of childhood knocked out of her.

Over the years, her mother had returned to claim her, dragging her away to a variety of cramped, dreary apartments, until having a child around became inconvenient again and Kate was once more dropped back to North Star and the soft warmth of her grandmother's care.

Kate suddenly had had enough of exploring. She pulled the door of the bunkhouse shut behind her and turned towards the house.

She had been half-aware the whole time of the old over- seer's hut that was hidden behind a cluster of tall gums further down the paddock. Even though from here it was out of sight, Kate was very much aware of its presence. A touch, like cold fingers on the back of her neck, made her shiver and rub her hands along her arms to warm herself.

‘Come on, guys, let's get moving. I want to get to the school today and see about enrolling you both.'

Georgia pouted. ‘Why? We're not even going to be here that long. I don't see why you couldn't have just got enough work to bring with us from our old school.'

‘I don't know how long it's going to take to fix up the house,' Kate hedged.

‘You promised, Mum. When we left you said we were only going to come out here to fix up the house and sell it, so we could buy a decent place back in the city,' Georgia reminded her mother tersely.

‘Yes, but I didn't think the house would need this much work.'

‘You promised!' Georgia yelled.

‘I didn't say we aren't going to sell the house, it's just going to take longer than I expected. In any case, it's too long to keep you out of school, so get dressed . . . Now,' Kate added in a tone that left no doubt she was still the parent.

When the bathroom door slammed shut behind Georgia, Kate let out the breath she'd been holding. She had lied to her daughter; worse, she could admit it without too much guilt. If that's what it took to get her away from those damaging friends of hers, then she would do a lot worse than tell a few white lies.

Kate sat with Georgia in the deputy principal's office at the local high school. Liam sat fidgeting anxiously in the seat on the other side of her.

The deputy, Terry Kirkpatrick, a bear of a man with a stern face, sat behind his desk and clasped his hands together beneath his chin. Kate wondered what had become of Stinky Steinman, the strange old man who'd been principal when she'd gone to school here. For a moment she swore she could almost smell the musty scent of mothballs that had followed him everywhere.

A smile hovered on her lips as she recalled the few times she'd sat in this very office with Jenny by her side, being reprimanded for whatever minor misdemeanour they'd been caught out in—usually dawdling to class again. Both girls would have rather been outside daydreaming about the amazing things they were going to do with their lives than stuck in a boring classroom learning things they could never imagine putting to any constructive use once they left school.

‘I have a copy of your last school report, Georgia. I can't say it's remarkable. It says here that you have been caught truanting on a number of occasions and that most of your assignments have been late or not completed at all,' the deputy said with a frown.

Georgia remained belligerently silent.

‘Georgia's had a difficult few months,' said Kate brightly, ‘but we've put all that behind us now, and I'm sure she'll do much better while she's here.'

‘I can assure you, Georgia, we won't be putting up with that sort of behaviour here. Work with us and we'll give you all the help you need. Work against us and life will become very unpleasant . . . for everyone,' Mr Kirkpatrick said in a stern voice.

Kate groaned inside. While she agreed with the man's no-nonsense approach, she knew how Georgia would interpret it. She could picture the battle she'd have to get her to school each day. Oh joy.

‘Don't get too excited—we won't be here long. Isn't that right, Mum?' Georgia challenged with an arch of her eyebrow.

Kate gave a brief grimace but decided not to comment.

‘Did you see that place? It's, like, so retarded,' said Georgia as soon as they left the school and got into the car.

Kate tried to unclench her jaw; at this rate her teeth would be ground down to stubs. ‘There's nothing wrong with that school. I went there.'

‘I rest my case—the place is ancient.'

‘Mum, why are people looking at us?' Liam asked quietly as they locked the car and walked up the main street.

Kate lifted her head and saw two old men seated on a bench outside the post office watching them with open curiosity. Further along the street, in front of the bakery, three women stood talking and stealing furtive glances in their direction.

Kate clenched her jaw again. ‘It's a small town, darling. New people stick out a bit more here. They're just curious. They'll lose interest after a while.'

She pushed open the door of the local cooperative store that sold everything from children's wear to kitchen supplies. The school uniforms were at the back of the store. Kate remembered the old place well. It had hardly changed since the days when she had come in here with her grandmother. She could almost picture Gran flicking through the
frocks—
not dresses, they were always called frocks back then, and by the look of most of the garments they were probably the same ones she remembered. The shop assistants used to wear too much makeup and have big hair.

‘Come on, you two,' she said, hustling her reluctant children towards the assortment of school gear.

‘Can I help you with something?'

Kate turned with a tired smile and gave a small gasp as she stared into two heavily made-up eyes, with lashes so thick they had to be fake.

‘Oh my, you're Henry Campbell's granddaughter,' the surprised sales assistant announced, stretching her ruby lips wide in an almost predatory smile. ‘I remember you when you were just a little thing. I heard you were back in town.'

‘Yes, we just got here,' said Kate, feeling as though she'd been sucked into a time warp. ‘I'm after some uniforms for these two.'