Queen of the Road (3 page)

The microwave beeped to a stop. Coop turned without looking through the partly open door to the front of the house. That was Alice’s personal space. He knew there was a living room through there – he saw glimpses of it sometimes when she left the door open. Her bedroom was through there as well, but Coop wasn’t planning on going past the kitchen.

He ate his meal in silence. Alice always had the two-way radio on, along with her old radio or sometimes, in the evenings, the small TV on top of the fridge. Coop didn’t mind the quiet. Trouble was, when he stopped chewing he could hear a clock ticking. Alice must have a large clock in the loungeroom for it to be that loud.

He’d never noticed it before, perhaps because when Alice was around there was never silence.

He got up and tugged the door shut. The mat on the other side made a tight fit between the door and the floor, muffling the ticking sound. He picked at the remains of his meal, thinking about Alice. Hopefully she’d make a quick recovery. He sent up a silent prayer for her.

The knife and fork clattered onto the plate. He was getting too attached. Alice’s vulnerability was making him feel he owed her something, something more than the time he’d already put in. But he was here to do a job, that was all. He rinsed the dishes and put the casserole back in the fridge. Jilly barked in the distance – a couple of short, sharp yaps to remind him it was time to return to the quarters for the night.

He glanced at the light shining from the bedroom. There was no way he was going to sleep in that bed. Then he pictured Alice’s shrewd look as she boarded the bus. He couldn’t go back on his word. He stood a moment before an idea occurred to him, and he headed out to the quarters.

Rusty had settled in his bed for the night, but Jilly was pleased to see Coop heading her way. The room in the quarters was rough but comfortable and he’d been at ease there. His swag had been stowed away and hardly used since he’d started working for Alice. He pulled it out from under the bed and turned back towards the house. Jilly danced around him getting in front of his feet.

‘On your bed, Jilly,’ he ordered.

She stopped and hung her head.

‘You’re on your own tonight, girl, until I can work something out.’

She glanced up at him with a pleading look.

‘On your bed.’ His voice wasn’t so gruff this time, but she complied.

He felt her eyes following him in the darkness as he walked back to the house. Once inside, he rolled his swag out on the bedroom floor. He went around turning off lights but when he got to the switch for the verandah light he hesitated, then he dropped his hand, deciding to leave it on. Its soft glow illuminated the bedroom as he climbed into his swag.

Just as his eyelids drooped shut he remembered what it was Skitch had said, what it was that didn’t sit right. Something about wanting to leave a note but Jilly keeping him close to his four-wheel drive. That was odd, because the tyre tracks led into the house yard, and in all the time Coop had been here, Jilly had never crossed that boundary. Not even when Alice had tried to entice her with scraps. Still, Jilly was a smart dog. She probably understood that Alice was gone for a while. Maybe it had caused a shift in dog politics.

He flicked his eyes open and took in the glow from the outside light.

‘Get well soon, Alice, and don’t be gone long,’ he mumbled.

The television was playing softly and Angela could hear the sound of dishes being washed in the sink as she entered her flat.

‘Damn,’ she muttered. She didn’t like the thought of Janice doing her housework. Around her were neat piles of folded clothes, and the loungeroom floor was clear of toys. She stepped silently into the kitchen.

‘Thanks Janice. You can leave those.’

The smartly dressed woman at the sink spun around. ‘Oh, I didn’t hear you come in.’ Her hair shone and her skin glowed. There was only thirteen years difference between them, and in the face of her stepmother’s practised radiance, Angela felt as if she was the older woman. She looked around her little kitchen. The benchtops were clear, the dishes nearly finished – even the floor sparkled.

‘You didn’t have to do all this.’

‘Claudia’s been asleep for ages. She was very tired, dear little thing. She’s such an easy child to look after.’

Angela drew in a breath through her nose and exhaled slowly, pulling her lips into a smile. ‘She has her moments, but it’s getting easier.’

‘We’ve had a lovely afternoon. I took her to see a movie and afterwards we walked in the park. She loves nail polish so she’s got a few different colours on.’ Janice chuckled and waved her own manicured hand at Angela. ‘We ate at my house then I brought her here. She’s such a mature little girl. She helped me tidy up the loungeroom then asked to have her bath. She found her own pyjamas and was nearly asleep when her head hit the pillow.’

Once again, Angela drew in a breath. Janice wouldn’t have a clue what it took to look after a child. She was no help at all when Claudia was a baby. Nigel was away a lot then, doing musicals and shows, and some days Angela hadn’t made it out of her dressing gown. There’d been a couple of times when she’d almost drowned in sorrow, or so it had felt, crying for her own mother, longing for maternal support and advice. If it wasn’t for her father and Kate, Angela didn’t know how she would have survived the world of feeding, bathing and endless washing, all on little sleep, pacing the house with a crying Claudia.

‘We’re usually fairly organised,’ she offered. ‘This week has been busy with Dad needing help, and with the wedding preparations …’

‘You must be worn out. I’ve got a meal for you in the microwave.’

Angela watched in stunned silence as Janice’s painted nails pushed the buttons to set the microwave in motion.

‘You sit down, I’ll bring it to you. Then I really must get going. I’ve had such a busy day. Claudia is a delight, of course, but it’s quite exhausting looking after her, isn’t it?’

Angela took some satisfaction in this confession, but didn’t trust
herself to speak. Instead she slipped into one of the chairs at the tiny kitchen table.

‘How are the wedding plans going, anyway?’ Janice asked, pulling the TV dinner from the microwave. Angela recognised it as one of the emergency supplies from her freezer. She should have known Janice wouldn’t have actually cooked.

‘Is your dress ready?’

‘The dress!’ Angela clapped a hand to her forehead.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘I’ve got Dad’s car. The dress is in mine.’ Normally she took the tram to work but today she’d taken her car specifically so she could collect the dress. Which was now at the truck depot. The dressmaker had given strict instructions to hang it up so that any creases would drop out by Saturday.

‘Oh Angela, you really do need to be more organised.’

Angela stood up. She was dangerously close to losing the control she’d learned to maintain around Janice. ‘I’ll have to ring Dad,’ she said, searching around for the cordless handset.

‘Don’t worry him now,’ Janice said. ‘We can work something out. He’s so tired.’

Angela bit back her urge to scream about how exhausted
she
felt. No matter how diplomatic she was, Janice always found a way to push her buttons.

She spied the phone, amazingly right where it should be, on the shelf dividing the kitchen from the lounge. As she reached for it, a stack of papers beside it caught her eye and forced her to pause. On top were her credit card statements, open and clearly visible. She couldn’t remember where she’d left them, but it certainly wasn’t in a neat pile like this. She clicked her tongue, hoping Janice hadn’t looked them over.

‘You’re dropping Claudia with us tomorrow night, aren’t you?’ Janice asked behind her. ‘I’ll hang out your dress and you can collect it then.’

Angela turned back to Janice, putting her body between her stepmother and the paper pile. ‘I guess that would work. The wedding rehearsal’s at eight.’

‘That’s late.’

‘Two of the groomsmen are flying in from Perth.’

‘Perhaps one of them will be the man of your dreams and whisk you away to Perth.’ Janice’s chuckle tinkled across the room.

‘I don’t think so.’ Angela recalled Carmela’s warning about Tony’s cousin.

‘You should eat this before it gets cold.’ Janice wiggled her fingers at the meal.

Reluctantly, Angela sat back at the table. Something wasn’t right. Janice was being far too nice.

‘Don’t frown. You’ll get wrinkles.’

That was rich coming from Janice, the queen of dirty looks.

‘Did your father speak to you about the job in South Australia?’

‘Yes.’

‘Are you going to do it?’ Janice’s voice seemed eager.

‘I haven’t had time to think about it.’

‘It would help him a lot. It’s a great opportunity for the business, but with a driver short, you can imagine how difficult that is for him.’

Angela recalled her father’s weary face. Janice was right, he really was tired. ‘Dad’s okay, isn’t he?’

‘Of course. He’s just working hard, poor love.’ Janice turned her penetrating gaze to Angela. ‘You should seriously consider driving for him. I’m sure he would make it worth your while. It would be a wonderful opportunity to put the past behind you and start afresh.’

Angela stuffed a forkful of vegetables in her mouth. This was sounding a lot like the conversation she’d just had with her father.

‘I hear there are plenty of single men in rural South Australia.’

Angela dropped the fork and stood up. ‘Thanks for looking after Claudia,’ she said, perhaps a little too abruptly. ‘It’s been a long day and I have to be at work early tomorrow.’

Janice stood and collected her bag. Only the counter was between them now, and the glare from the downlights lit up the pile of papers like a spotlight. She tapped her blood red fingernails on the stack of bills.

‘Your father has already paid off a large credit card debt for you, Angela, and now I see you’ve got two cards.’

Angela snatched up the papers. ‘You’ve no right to go through my things.’

‘They were just lying around, I didn’t go looking for them. I had to clear a space for Claudia to sit. She was so keen to show me your lovely new television.’

Angela clutched the bills to her chest and glanced at the large flatscreen she’d ordered on an interest-free deal. Damn Janice and her sudden offer to babysit. She hardly ever came to the flat and now she was poking her nose into Angela’s financial affairs.

Janice softened her gaze and leaned closer. ‘I know you don’t think of me as your mother, Angela. I’ve never tried to take her place, but I am your father’s wife and we care about you. This job could mean a new life for you.’

‘I’m managing.’

‘There’s a difference between managing and living a full life.’

Angela put the bills down beside the congealing TV dinner. She longed to get in the shower and wash away the weight of the day.

‘Nigel’s not coming back to you, you know. And you’ve got debts up to your eyeballs again. This isn’t living.’

Angela felt the sag in her body. ‘I wasn’t expecting Nigel to come back, and I only need the extra card to get Claudia’s fees paid. I’ll pay it off again soon.’ She hoped she sounded convincing.

‘Don’t you see what a great opportunity this is?’ Janice’s voice was soft and coaxing as she stepped around the bench, closer to Angela. ‘Driving trucks pays better than what you’re earning now. You can get away from Melbourne, make a new start and not have to run into Nigel.’

For a few seconds Angela was mesmerised by the offer.

‘And I can help.’ Janice laid a hand on Angela’s arm. ‘If you do this for your father, I’ll pay off one of your cards.’

Angela snapped to her senses and pulled her arm free. She’d rather keep her debt than owe Janice anything. ‘I’m not going to drive interstate, Janice. Our life is here. Now please go home. Dad will want his dinner and I’ve got to get organised for tomorrow.’

‘I’ll give you a little longer to think about my offer.’ Janice leaned in close. ‘If you go, I won’t tell your father about the credit cards … or the new television.’ She pulled back and stepped to the door. There was no mistaking the threat in those words. ‘Oh, and Claudia can stay all weekend.’ The older woman’s face was pulled into a smile, but there was no warmth in it. ‘That way you can have a few drinks and enjoy the wedding without worrying about her.’

The door closed firmly and Angela stood planted to the spot. Then she slumped back down at the table and pushed away the plate of food. The encounter had transported her back to her teenage years, to Janice’s arrival in her life.

Her father’s marriage to Janice had coincided with Angela’s late but blossoming interest in boys and drinking. Janice was good fun back then, and living in a house of men, Angela had been taken in by a woman who shared her interest in clothes and makeup. By that time, it was long enough after her mother’s death for Angela to accept that her father needed a companion. But truck driving took him on the road a lot and Angela’s brothers were already leaving home, so it was left to his new wife to deal with Angela’s minor teenage rebellion. Janice tried her best, but she knew nothing
about children, let alone how to deal with adolescent delinquency. Besides, she still liked to spend the lonely nights with her friends. Janice quickly tired of playing parent and organised to send Angela to boarding school.

Angela held her head in her hands, recalling the night she’d first confronted Janice. She knew her father loved her and would never send her away, and she’d told her stepmother as much. The older woman had sat her down and, in a quiet voice inflected with a tone of absolute certainty, she’d told Angela the facts of life. Not the birds-and-bees stuff, but the cold, adult reality. She made it quite clear that Angela’s dad was a husband first and a father second, and that he would support Janice in anything she requested because she was his wife. Angela shuddered as she remembered Janice explaining that a wife could do far more for a man than a daughter could, and if Angela were to make him choose, she would lose.

From that day forward they’d lived by an uneasy truce: they were civil to each other, but never warm. Angela’s father was a good man. He knew there was something between his wife and his daughter, but after a few initial attempts to get Angela to talk, he’d left it alone. Her life with him since had centred around his trucks. She’d never tried to take the lead female role at home again and had never put Janice’s theory to the test. Up until tonight they’d managed to muddle along with an outward veneer of civility, but Janice’s parting words had been very clear.

Angela dragged herself up from the table and peeped in on her sleeping daughter. There was no way she would move her across the country. Let Janice spill the beans about the credit cards. Angela was an adult now, with her own child to look after. She rolled her shoulders in a physical show of defiance and then sighed. In her heart she knew how disappointed her father would be if he found out the extent of her debt again. It made her feel like anything but an adult.