Bella's Run (24 page)

She managed a nod as she took his dry and wrinkled farmer’s hand. She tried to quell her alarm over Will’s behaviour, her gaze drifting to her cousin, standing nearby with her Aunty Rhonda and Uncle Bryce.

Macca’s anguish was palpable; she could taste it in her mouth, feel it on her skin. She couldn’t stand to look at that grief-stricken face, the bloodshot whites of his eyes competing with the florid flush of his cheeks.

He stood in his black suit, beside his parents, hollow-eyed.

As he’d linked arms with Will to carry Patty from the church, Bella had seen his body shaking violently. Without his big black Bronco Akubra atop his head, he looked a shadow of the big man he’d been at the Muster only weeks before.

Bella’s gaze drifted back to the black hearse, and all thoughts of Will and Macca fled. Her whole body and mind were again consumed by absolute wretchedness. She saw Rory and Helen O’Hara barely hanging on. In her mind she could hear them thinking,
A child’s not supposed to die before a parent
. She finished the sentence in her own mind,
especially this child.

Standing silent, Bella waited with her family for her best mate to leave the churchyard on that hot and sunny day.

To depart for her final journey.

Her closing chorus, ‘Singing Hi Yi Yippy Yippy Yi . . .’

Her last dance through those whirling tumbleweeds.

Chapter 23

Bella spotted the huge green-and-silver reflective sign indicating the turn-off from the Princes Highway towards Narree. As she swung left off the main road the car climbed a slight hill before hitting a plateau that in daylight allowed travellers to see the Great Dividing Range in all its glory. Even in the dark Bella knew it was there, a hulking bulk on the horizon, the looming shadow of enormous mountains. Lights occasionally dotted the sweeping irrigated plains at the foot of the hills, early-rising dairy farmers already cloistered with their cows in the milking shed.

The car’s clock flashed four a.m. and Bella knew she couldn’t drive for much longer. Weariness was creeping in. She’d camp at her mum and dad’s for a night before heading into the mountains for Caro and Trin’s wedding at the weekend. It was unfortunate her parents weren’t home. They’d gone to some Young Farmers Reunion down in South Gippsland, and Bella was pleased they weren’t allowing her mother’s quadriplegia to get in their way of living a great life. She would see them on the drive back.

It had taken months to get Francine home after the accident, while Bella’s own injuries, even though they had been serious, had resulted in no long term physical effects. She had resigned from her job and, with Frank, moved to Melbourne, taking it in turns to watch over Francine’s fight to survive and be a wife and mother once again.

Caro, who was just out of teachers’ college, invited Bella to share her flat in East Melbourne. ‘I’m teaching all day. You can grab a tram outside the door and it’ll take you straight past the hospital.’ Frank meanwhile installed himself in a house catering for patients’ next of kin who were from the bush.

Justin had taken over the farm, running himself ragged while Melanie started motherhood for the third time. There wasn’t much else they could all do. Just sit it out and wait to see if Francine was coming back to them.

‘She’s very lucky to be here. I’d be grateful if I were you,’ a doctor on the run had thrown across a busy shoulder.

Her mother regained consciousness with no permanent brain damage, but there was still the quadriplegia to deal with. Six months of intensive therapy followed, with Bella or Frank always by her side. After a few months, and at the urging of her father, Bella found herself a job in the public-relations firm with the help of glowing references from David Neille.

So that just left the heartache to deal with.

She felt like she’d lost everything except her mother. After Will had turned away from her at Patty’s funeral, she hadn’t seen him again. Aunty Maggie said he’d gone back up into the mountains, seeking solace on his station. And there he had stayed, working himself into the ground.

Bella couldn’t understand it. Why didn’t Will come to share in the grief they both felt so badly, so deeply? He’d sat by her bedside while she was unconscious, hadn’t he? She’d tried ringing him after the funeral – at home up on the station and on his mobile. But the calls went to voicemail, and after leaving a barrage of messages that were never returned, she gave up.

She’d considered driving up to the station to confront him, or at least getting someone to drive her – the thought of getting behind the wheel was a daunting one. But then the memories of Will’s grim and dispassionate face deliberately turning from her, towards Prowsy, appeared before her eyes, and she knew she couldn’t deal with another rejection. He hadn’t acknowledged her once at the funeral. Not at the church, nor even at the wake where, with Macca, Will had got so drunk a grim Bryce McDonald had carted them both away.

Will’s parents weren’t coping either, Maggie had informed her. Rory and Helen had just upped and left their station at Tindarra. Packed up and walked out, not able to face being surrounded by the memories of their beloved daughter, leaving the property for Will to manage. They bought a small house in Burrindal and only left town to travel to the larger Narree for supplies. Apparently they didn’t talk with the locals much anymore, stonewalling any attempts to drag them from their safe four walls. Although, Bella knew from her father, the couple made an uncomfortable, stilted phone call to intensive care at the Alfred Hospital every Sunday night. She had to give them credit for that. Still, it was obvious to all in the district that the once-vibrant O’Haras were now a family of silence, existing within mountains of pain.

Bella tried to console herself with the thought that at least
she
was trying to live life, amid the grief. Even though she felt like a wooden marionette, at least she was trying to be normal. She just had to deal with survivor’s guilt. Well, that’s what her therapist called it. Post-traumatic stress and depression were the other buzz words thrown around. She’d given up on the counselling, figuring long walks beside the Yarra River would do more for her than spending hours with someone who breathed garlic fumes and asked inane questions. How the hell could she
not
feel stress and depression after losing her best mate and the man she loved, while her mother was fighting for life? How the hell could she
not
feel guilty walking away virtually scot-free from an accident in which everyone else was either maimed or killed?

Maggie had told her, time was the healer. She just had to hold on and believe in that.

As her mother got better, Bella set about rebuilding her life, brick by brick, wall by wall. It wasn’t the life she’d had, the hell-raising run of the bush, but at least it was a life. So when her parents finally drove home six months later, they left their beloved daughter behind in Melbourne. There was no going back. She knew she couldn’t bare the pain of the old familiar surroundings, all the reminders of the way her life had been.

It had been a dreary Friday afternoon in Melbourne, around twelve months after the accident, when Will had turned up at Caro’s door. He’d hunkered down on the doorstep, hat tipped over his eyes, waiting for someone to arrive home from work.

Caro was the first to appear.

‘What are you doing here?’ she’d uttered, shocked to find him sitting there. ‘I thought you’d buried yourself at Tindarra, never to be seen or heard of again?’

‘I’m here to see Bella.’

‘I don’t think she’ll want to see you.’

‘I can try, can’t I?’

‘Listen, if you’re here to hurt her, you can get back in that ute and piss off. She’s finally getting on her feet and she doesn’t need this to set her back.’

Will sighed as he stood up from the doorstep, uncurling himself slowly. ‘I’m not here to hurt her. I just want to talk to her, okay?’

‘Well, she won’t be back for another hour. It takes her a while to get home from work on the train. You’d better come in and have a cuppa. I’ll give Trin a ring and let him know you’re here for the weekend.’

‘Caro, don’t. I’m only here to see Bella and then I’m off home. I need to be back to bale my lucerne tomorrow night. It’s a quick trip, but a cuppa would be good.’ He paused as she led the way through the door, grabbing at her arm to force her to stop. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt her, Caro.’ He stood still a moment, trying to find the right words. ‘I just dug myself into grief. I couldn’t see a way out, can barely see it now, but I felt I owed her an explanation.’

‘You bloody well do. The poor girl has been to hell and back. Granted you’re not all to blame but you can stand up and take a slice of the pie. Come in and have a cuppa, but I’ll warn you, I’m not sure what kind of reception you’ll get from Bella.’

Bella arrived a little while later and was stunned to see the LandCruiser ute parked outside the block of flats that she and Caro called home. What did he want? Why was he here? Why now, just when things were starting to feel normal again? She battled the urge simply to turn and run away; forced her high-heeled shoes to walk down that path to the front door; forced her hand to turn the knob. The first thing she saw was the hat placed upright on a pair of well-worn and wrinkled R.M. Williams boots, polished to a shining hue. She sat down on the floor, right beside the boots and hat, quelling the rush of vomit threatening to erupt from her stomach. She could smell the musty aroma of the bush on the hat, the rich leather treatment on the boots. A slight scent of wattle was in the air.

They couldn’t see her from the kitchen, but Bella could hear the slow and deep rumble of his voice. She had to do this, deal with him now he was here. Gulping down the bile in her mouth, Bella picked herself up off the floor. Straightening her skirt, she flung back her shoulders and walked head up high into the kitchen.

The first sight of him hit every nerve ending. His likeness to his sister made her stagger in the doorway. She grasped the doorframe and steadied herself before again forcing her legs to move. She walked in and sat down as far from him as she could, which wasn’t very far in the tiny kitchen.

Caro mumbled something about getting in the washing and disappeared out the door.

‘Bella.’ Will stared in shock at the girl he thought he’d known so well. Gone was the voluptuous figure, in its place a rack of bones. The bright eyes were dulled with pain, and the bouncing ringlets were flattened and sleek, imprisoned in a rigid clasp behind her long and stiff neck.

‘Will,’ she managed to return.

A truck roared down the road, air brakes screeching as it changed lanes among the dodging traffic outside.

He moved his sock-covered feet uncomfortably and leaned back on his chair. Bella stared at the table. She would not look at him. She. Would. Not. But her eyes betrayed her and she felt them lift. Damn the man.

‘I’ve come to say . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I . . .’ He broke off, shifting uncomfortably. Dimples flickered as a grim smile touched his face. ‘I just couldn’t handle it.
Can’t
handle it,’ he corrected himself. ‘Maggie said I needed to talk to you. I don’t know what to say. How to say sorry. How to make it up to you.’

Bella sat there numb. She couldn’t help him out. She felt betrayed and just so plain mad at him, she wanted to spit in his face. A face that reminded her so much of what they’d both lost – those dimples, chocolate-brown eyes, that wicked O’Hara grin.

‘Just go please, Will. I can’t help you. I’m barely able to help myself.’ She felt tears start to well and she angrily brushed them away. She would not show weakness.

‘But, Bella, I’m here to help, I want you to come—’

‘Just go, damn you. Go away.’ Her quiet voice sounded like a yell even to her own ears. She forced her eyes back down to the table, terrified he’d see her need for him. Terrified her eyes would betray her again.

Will stood and looked down at the girl he had loved, still loved, not knowing what to do.

‘Just go, Will,’ she said again quietly, staring intently at the laminex grains embedded in the tabletop. Her fingers came up to search for a pattern in the swirling plastic lines.

He turned and walked down the short hall. Bella heard him pause to pick up his hat and pull on his boots before he walked out the front door, slamming the screen as he went. The only thing that remained was the sniff of wattle floating on city air.