Novels 02 Red Dust (2 page)

Chapter 2

Gemma decided that there was nothing better than checking around your own land, seeing green grass, fat stock and their progeny running, bucking, and chasing each other. There had been many years in the north when there hadn't been any green grass to see. Drought had turned the grass to dry and dusty soil, so to look at the wonderful spread of green now was good for the spirit. The fact that she was listening to Sara Storer sing about drovers and people who worked the land also helped Gemma feel inspired to keep doing the things she was doing. Tapping her fingers in time to the music, she sang loudly, ignoring the fact she was tone deaf.

By twelve thirty, not having found anything amiss, Gemma turned the ute towards home. Walking into the homestead she put the kettle on and went straight to the office. The message light was blinking on.

'Hi Gem, Jess here. What's going on? No word from you for yonks. Hope you're okay. Give us a call when you've got time. Seeya!' Gemma smiled at Jess's happy but concerned voice – she must ring her.

'Ah, hello. It's Mike Martin from Australian Transport Safety Bureau calling. I just wanted to let you know that the report on the fatal accident involving the aircraft Foxtrot Juliet Papa is being released today. The findings will show that a catastrophic engine failure caused the aircraft to make an emergency landing, impacting with a large tree and resulting in the fatality. If you have any questions, please give me a call. I will be in the office for the rest of the day.'

'The fatality?' Gemma mouthed as she wrote down the number which followed. She steadied herself against the office desk as a picture of the plane entered her mind. She could see the wings wobbling madly, the wheels buckling beneath the body, the metal crumpling like a tin can as the plane hit the ground.

'Gem, it's me again.' Gemma looked blankly at the answer ing machine. 'I reckon I'll come and visit this weekend. I'll be there Friday night about seven thirty. I'll ring as I'm leaving town. Catchya, mate!'

'Brilliant!' said Gemma out loud as her friend's voice banished the vivid images of a few moments ago.

'You on the channel, Gemma?' The two-way crackled to life with the voice of Bulla, one of her stockmen. Turning to where the radio sat on shelves that held the past three generations of records, she picked up the handset.

'Yeah?' she answered.

'Yeah, Gem, I'm getting these sheep in and I think there might be about another four hundred-odd more than we thought, so we'll need more gear for lamb marking.'

'Oh,' said Gemma in surprise. Adam had always kept such up-to-date records of stock numbers, yet it was the third time since Adam had died that they had found mobs with increased numbers. 'That's weird. Well, no worries, I'll get it organised. Everything else going okay?'

'Yeah, we'll be at the yards in about half an hour.'

Gemma signed off and went to the kitchen to fix herself some lunch. While she was eating she started making a list of things she'd need in town. She knew she would have to return Mike Martin's call at some stage, but she couldn't deal with it now. Instead, she'd focus on the lamb marking – and looking forward to Jess's visit.

Gemma was excited. Jess had rung – she was on her way – and Gemma couldn't wait to have some female company. Although she had loved Adam to distraction, there was no denying that marriage had affected her female friendships as she'd devoted herself to working and spending time with her husband. Not that she was complaining – that was the way she wanted it – but she'd missed partying till the small hours with her brilliant, energetic friend. She and Jess had a history! Growing up as farmers' daughters, they had travelled on the same school bus, until Jess's parents sold up and moved to Port Pirie. The girls had been ecstatic when they realised that they would be attending the same boarding school, along with other friends from the local school. They had been inseparable ever since.

Of course, Jess's partying had calmed down slightly since she shifted back to town, so she could practise her profession – banking. Gemma shook her head every time she thought about the profession Jess had chosen. Gemma had thought her wild, outgoing friend would do something that would turn the world upside down – instead, Jess had become a boring old loans manager. It was almost as bad as being an accountant!

Chuckling, Gemma put on some music, mixed herself a rum and Coke, and sang along while she made the gravy for the roast lamb she'd bred, butchered and cooked herself. The breeding and butchering were her forte, she noted ruefully, not the cooking.

Hearing the dogs bark, Gemma raced outside and saw Jess's red Holden ute pull up. It looked every part of the souped-up ute that a young bloke would drive, complete with huge spotlights and aerials, autographs from famous country singers on the tail gate, and the bar runner she'd pinched from Oodnadatta pub when they had been up for the races running across the dash. It was always sparkling clean and hardly ever saw dirt roads these days. Flying towards her friend, with her arms outstretched, Gemma pulled her into a huge bear hug.

'Jess, you made it!'

'Gem, wonderful to see you, gorgeous.' Jess returned the hug with vigour. 'Man, I forgot it was such a long way out here. I didn't even think to get some roadies as I came through town, I'm so used to not drinking and driving. But the cops wouldn't even know this road existed!'

'You poor bugger, it must be hard to drive a whole hundred and fifty k without a drink!'

'Well, you know a girl can get kinda thirsty.'

'Obviously,' Gemma said dryly.

'So how are you?' asked Jess as they headed back to the house, their arms slung around each other.

'I've had my moments. But mostly I'm okay.'

'I knew you would be. Any word from the out-laws?'

'Hey, let's just have fun tonight,' said Gemma. 'We'll talk
that
stuff tomorrow.'

Walking inside with her friend's arm warm around her shoulders, Gemma felt a peace she hadn't known since Adam died. It was nice to feel almost whole again, to know that whatever happened, she'd be all right.

The smell of burning met them at the door. 'Oh bugger! That's what's left of the gravy,' said Gemma, running to the stove. Jess – a fabulous cook – laughed so hard she almost had tears running down her cheeks.

'You haven't improved on the cooking front then! So what
is
for tea? I'm starving,' asked Jess, opening the fridge and pulling out the Coke to mix with her scotch. Popping the top, she leaned against the kitchen counter. 'Is it eggs on toast? Grilled cheese sandwiches?'

'Get away! I'm not that bad a cook! I just don't do a lot of it now that there's only myself to cook for. Anyway, we're having roast lamb – without the gravy!'

'Roast lamb? Yum, I haven't had that for ages!' She nudged Gemma out of the way. 'Allow the master!' She started trying to salvage what she could of the gravy. 'I think we might have to make some more. Where's the flour?'

'In the pantry.' Gemma looked at Jess. Her red hair hung below her shoulders and her freckles and green eyes stood out against her pale skin. 'You've been indoors too much,' she observed.

'Ah yes,' sighed Jess dramatically. 'Well I do have to spend some time in the office and that tends to play havoc with the complexion. However –' she held up her finger to make a point, 'that's why they invented makeup!'

'You're awfully cheery,' said Gemma. 'Is there anything wrong?'

'Like you said, we'll talk
that
stuff tomorrow,' replied Jess with her head deep in the pantry. 'I cannot find
any
flour in here of any sort. I can't believe you have a pantry without – oh, here's some. Gemma Sinclair, it's about a year out of date! You'll poison yourself one day. Oh well, beggars can't be choosers.'

'Flour is not exactly big on my agenda at the moment,' Gemma said defensively.

'C'mon, let's eat and I'll fill you in on all the gossip from town. You would not
believe
who I saw yesterday at the hairdresser.'

'Tell me,' said Gemma.

'Gabby Clarke. Do you remember her from school? Blonde, with legs up to her ears and really skinny. I couldn't believe it was her – she's got three kids hanging off her.'

'You're joking!' interjected Gemma. 'I didn't even know she'd got married.'

'Yeah, she married some guy from the city about five years ago.' She threw her hand up against her forehead for dramatic effect. 'Oh, and guess who I had a wine with last week at the pub?'

'I couldn't guess. Do you actually do any work?'

'Of course, but only if it doesn't interfere with my social calendar,' Jess stated solemnly, and then burst out laughing. 'But you'll never guess who I heard was back in town,' she continued.

'Who?'

'Paige Nicholls.' There was silence as both girls remem bered the accident that had killed one of their friends, another committing suicide, and the part that she had played in that.

'Well, that's interesting. I wonder what she's doing back here.'

Jess shrugged. 'No idea. And I don't really care.'

They laughed and talked into the night, soaking up one another's company. At midnight Gemma stretched and said, 'Well, this is the latest I've been up in ages. I need to go to bed. I've got to check the heifers in the morning – I've given Bulla and Garry the weekend off.'

'Yeah, I should go to bed too. Where am I sleeping?'

'Where you did last time. Second on the right. Do you remember where the bathroom is?'

'Yep, dishes?' asked Jess, yawning.

'In the morning, I think. Do you want to come with me tomorrow?'

'What time?'

'About five thirty.'

'No way! Sorry, Gem, you're on your own.'

'Night, Jess,' said Gemma with a smile. 'It's good to have you here.'

Jess moved forward to hug her friend. 'I'm glad I came. It's taken me too long. Night.'

It felt good to have someone else in the house, Gemma thought as she settled into bed. For the first time in months she slipped easily into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

Chapter 3

By 5 am Gemma was up making coffee and looking out at the cold, clear day. Pale sunlight was just visible on the horizon. As welcome as the sun was, when she switched on the radio for the weather report, Gemma found herself hoping that the week would hold some rain. They had had good rains this year, but she would never knock back more.

By five thirty it was nearly light enough to see, so she wrote a note telling Jess not to expect her back before eight, though she knew it was likely she'd be back before Jess got up anyway.

Untying her dog Scoota, who ran madly around her legs in a morning greeting, she jumped in the ute and made her way towards the heifer paddock, her thoughts drifting to Jess. Something wasn't right with her, but Gemma knew her friend wouldn't talk to her about it until she was ready. They had had angry words more than once when Gemma had offered help before Jess was ready for it.

After opening and shutting several gates and driving over a couple of cattle grids, Gemma finally arrived at the heifers. She methodically counted the hundred cattle in the paddock; there weren't any problems this morning. She would come back this afternoon and check again.

Jess had woken when she heard Gemma leave. Tossing and turning, she finally decided that coffee was a better option than lying in bed alone with her thoughts, so she rose and dressed. Coffee in hand, she walked over to the fire and stoked it up, then went and stood in front of the wedding photo hanging on the wall in the big sunken lounge room. Looking pensively at Adam, she asked aloud, 'Were you the weak, untrustworthy bugger I think you were?'

She stood there for a long while, sipping coffee and looking at the photo, recalling her conversations with Adam, searching for any clue that might substantiate the rumours she'd heard in town, but nothing came to her. Sighing, she put down her cup and wandered outside. Instinctively, she headed towards the shearing shed, passing the kennels on the way. Gemma loved dogs, and whether they were good or useless, she always had at least five of them. Jess untied the house dog Scoota; he'd give her some companionship on her walk. A Lab look-alike with about a dozen different breeds in him, Scoota had belonged to an old grader driver who was going to have him put down because he couldn't take him on the road anymore. These days many people on farms objected to contract workers bringing dogs with them.

Jess hadn't spent a lot of time on Billbinya. Between her social life and work, there hadn't been the opportunity. She had quickly risen through the bank to loans manager, and though Jess told no one, she loved her numbers and her job with a passion. She specialised in agribusiness accounts that put her in contact with farmers, her past, which she also treasured. Because of her farming knowledge, she often received phone calls asking for her guidance on the industry and its opportunities, but even though she subscribed to many of the leading agribusiness and farming magazines, the answer wasn't always immediately clear. Jess would research the issue and return with good, professional advice.

With Scoota bouncing at her feet, she resumed her path to the shearing shed. She'd always loved the old lanolin smell of shearing sheds, the way everything was oily to the touch. Wood of the railings smooth from years of sheep rubbing against it. She breathed deeply, finding peace in the silence, then went outside to survey the scene she could see from the shed.

Walking on towards the creek, she bent down to pat Scoota and picked up a stick for him to chase. 'Do I tell her?' she asked the dog.

* * *

As Gemma approached the house she could smell the bacon and eggs already sizzling. Entering the kitchen, she arched an eyebrow and said, 'Well I didn't think I'd see you this early.'

'Oh, I'm still
able
to get up early most days – I just choose not to. Do you want a coffee?'

'Is the Pope Catholic?'

'So what's the go for today? Do you have anything you have to do?' Jess asked as she moved about the kitchen getting coffee and turning the bacon.

'Nope, I'm all yours. Is there anything special you want to do?'

'Well, I was thinking that it would be fun to go camping. We could camp down by the creek where we used to go when you were first seeing Adam. Take the swags, have a fire – you know, all that sort of stuff we used to do before we got old and sensible.'

Gemma nodded slowly, the idea growing on her. 'Yeah, camping in winter. A fire, crisp air and some port to keep us warm. That sounds great. We can leave this afternoon after I've checked the heifers.'

'You've got a new ute,' Jess commented after they piled their swags and provisions into the tray late that afternoon and set off.

'Yeah.' Gemma rubbed the dash of the new white

Toyota LandCruiser affectionately as they bumped across the paddocks. 'I got it after Adam died. All the other vehicles on the station are old and pretty clapped out. I thought that if I was going to be out on the station, doing long distances by myself then I needed something reliable.'

'Good idea. Be horrible to get stuck out in the middle of nowhere and have to be rescued,' Jess agreed as they pulled up at their old camping site. It was exactly as Jess remembered – a sheltered spot on the side of the creek where native pine trees grew. There was a granite outcrop covered in old moss and the creek gravel was soft.

Setting the fire, Gemma laughed. 'I can't believe we're doing this. How old are we? We're supposed to be mature and responsible. This feels like we're teenagers again camping on Mum and Dad's place just so we could play our music up loud and smoke without getting caught!'

'Hey, want a rum and Coke? Let's party like we used to. We don't get many nights like this anymore.'

'That sounds like a plan.' As Jess got the drinks from the esky and Gemma set up the camp site she threw some more branches on the fire then rummaged through a box in the tray of the ute for a barbecue plate, chops and flour.

'Are you making damper? Fantastic! Well, I think fantastic – how old is that flour again?'

Gemma laughed and threw some of the flour at her. 'Here, make yourself useful. Grab some of those spuds and the foil and chuck them in the fire. I thought we could go the whole hog.'

'Ah, I've needed a night like this for a long time,' said Jess, leaning back against her swag and staring deep into the heart of the flames. 'So tell me, Gem, how are you really? You haven't said much at all about you or the farm or what's happening.'

Gemma took her drink and sat on her swag looking at Jess.

'I'm going okay. I thought it would be harder – well, no, that came out wrong; it's been bloody hard and I miss him so much, and would give anything to have him back again . . . but I'm doing all this stuff I never imagined I could do. And I
can
do it.'

'Well of course you bloody can,' said Jess indignantly.

'Yeah, but there are so many things I've wanted to ask and I can't and that always makes me feel frustrated. And going to bed without him . . . no one to cuddle or talk to . . .' Gemma's voice was getting softer and softer. She looked down at the ground and fiddled with the can in her hand. 'It gets a bit lonely, especially when I don't see anyone except for Garry and Bulla for days on end. I must admit that when the stock agents come, I quite enjoy it. There's a bit of news from around the district and someone different to talk to. Someone to throw ideas around with about stock and markets, that sort of stuff.'

Getting up she went back over to the card table to finish the damper.

'But I think that has helped me out emotionally, you know, being so busy on the farm and not having a lot of time to think during the day. Making sure that Billbinya runs smoothly and that there's enough money in the bank to pay all the bills isn't easy. I mean, I know I used to do some of the office work, but Adam did most of it and he was the one who knew when the big payments were due, like tractor payments or the payments to his mum and dad. To tell the truth, I'm not even sure how he managed to make some of the large payments. Sometimes there isn't enough money in the bank to pay the wages with, let alone make a loan repayment. I don't know how I'm going to come up with the money for the next repayment to his mum and dad, but I'll work something out. I've got a while yet, and shearing is coming up.'

There was a silence broken only by the crackling of the fire, and Jess noticed the card table wobbling as Gemma kneaded the damper harder than necessary – the only sign that Gemma was upset. She couldn't help but think that her friend wasn't really dealing with the emotions of losing her husband at all. Gemma had always been good at sweeping her feelings under the carpet.

Without looking up from what she was doing, Gemma said, 'I feel like I'm achieving something, but then I'll overhear some bloke in town talking about me "playing farming" and that really hurts. I know that people are gossiping, but it's awful to actually hear it.' Looking up she smiled sadly. 'I'm not playing, Jess; I really want to make this work.'

'Oh, Gem, I never thought for a minute that you were playing. I've always known that you can do this. It's all you've ever wanted to do – even when we were stuck in that stupid, pompous boarding school you only ever wanted to get back out to the farm. It has to be wide open spaces for our Gemma!'

'I miss Adam every day, but life goes on and I plan to have the best life I can for the rest of it,' Gemma said quietly.

She turned her attention to the damper again, muttering something under her breath that Jess couldn't quite hear.

'What was that?' asked Jess.

'I said I wish I could ask Adam about the discrepancy in the stock numbers,' Gemma repeated.

'What stock numbers?' asked Jess with a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach.

'Most of our ewe numbers are up for lamb marking, which means the lamb count is up too. It's strange because he was always so good at keeping accurate figures. Bulla reckons that Adam always knew how many were in a mob, and some of these mobs have been up by five hundred. That isn't an insignificant amount. I've got the stock agent coming next week and we are going to get all the mobs of both cattle and sheep in and do a proper count. I need to be sure before 30 June so I've got the numbers right for the taxes.'

Jess was quiet. This was her opening. 'You know, Gem . . .'

But Gemma was still talking. 'I remember him being on the computer, using the stock management program saying he had shifted stock from one paddock to another, when I knew they hadn't been shifted at all, but I just figured he planned to shift them the next day or something like that.' She shrugged and gave Jess a big smile. 'Come on, the damper's ready to go in the fire and I need another drink.'

Jess opened her mouth to speak then closed it again. The moment had passed.

After dinner Jess undid her swag and pulled it up to the fire, then took off her boots and climbed in. Gemma put another big log onto the fire and did the same.

'Are you still having trouble with Ian and Joan?' asked Jess.

'Ah, the dreaded out-laws . . . No, not really. They were so upset about losing Adam that they really couldn't see past that and I was the obvious one to take it out on. They couldn't understand why he left the station to me rather than passing it back to them, but I think we've sorted that out. As long as they get the money they're owed, we get on pretty well. I go and see them when I'm in town and they ring occasionally to see what's going on, but we don't have that much to do with each other really. Ian thinks that a woman has no business running a station, but I just let him think that Dad is helping me make decisions.'

'And how is the money situation? Is it as bad as you just said?' asked Jess tentatively.

'Oh, I don't suppose. Farming is tight. Cash flow is the main problem, but I'll get it sorted in time. Anyhow, what's bothering you? I know there's something wrong. Is it a bloke?'

Jess's stomach constricted. 'Me?' she said brightly. 'Nothing's wrong with me. Working hard at the bank, and not enough time to do all the things I want to do, but other than that everything is fine.'

'Uh huh,' said Gemma, clearly not convinced but deciding not to pursue it. 'What about that bloke you've been seeing . . . what was his name? Brad, Chad, Gonad?'

'Brad!' cried Jess huffily, leaning over to thump Gemma through the swag. 'He's wonderful,' she said dreamily.

'Aren't they all?' Gemma teased.

'This one is different,' Jess said.

'You always say that.'

'Well he is. Tall, dark hair . . .'

'Tall, dark and handsome,' interrupted Gemma. 'What are you going to do if they break the mould, Jess?'

'He's great,' continued Jess, ignoring Gemma. 'He's an agronomist and he only moved to Pirie a year and a half or so ago. He's just started his own business after being with one of the main stock firms, but he reckons he can do better out by himself.'

'So, why is he different? What's the best bit about him?'

'Well,' Jess said coyly, 'I can't really tell you that – but I'm sure you can use your imagination!'

'I should have known better than to ask!' said Gemma with a laugh.

'Nah, really, he's just different. He listens to me, talks to me, and we enjoy just hanging out together. Life can be pretty lonely. I've got lots of friends but they don't know me like you do – and I think Brad is beginning to know me better than anyone. But he's a real man's man, if you know what I mean. Plus he likes to have a good time.'

'Well, Jess, I hope he's
the one
then. I can't see you tied down though!'

'Yeah, I know! I can't see it either – but I haven't got cold feet yet, and he's spending a lot of time with me.'

They lay back without speaking, looking at the stars and watching sparks from the fire crackle up into the air.

Jess left Billbinya on Sunday afternoon to head back to Port Pirie, work and Brad. Leaning on the airhorn and watching Gemma wave in her rear-vision mirror, she berated herself for not coming clean about her suspicions. But Gemma's plate was full enough without adding something from left field.