Guardian Nurse (20 page)

‘Oh yes, dear. For instance Gareth was one for the sweets,’ Mrs. Campbell answered her. She gave a short remembering sigh. ‘For all the sweets of life, one could
say. For
—
What do they call it?’

‘
Dolce vita
,’
said Frances.—Then, in a rush: ‘Mrs. Campbell, I know nothing ... just nothing at all. I
must
if I’m ever to help, if I’m to—to—’

Mrs. Campbell had turned to Frances. ‘But didn’t Burn ever tell you?’ Then, after a long pause, ‘No, I can see he didn’t and that would be like
Burn
.’

‘I suppose he expected I would ask.’

‘And that,’ said Mrs. Campbell warmly of Frances, ‘would be like you.’ As the Scotswoman never gave much praise Frances felt a glow.

‘I’m asking now,’ she admitted.

‘And though I never talk, I’m going to talk now, too. It’s high time you were told.’ Mrs. Campbell’s lips firmed.

... But she didn’t tell after all, for almost at once, without warning, without any preliminaries, the skies opened, and though it had been raining before, raining for days, rain now burst down, loud, deafening rain that Frances had never encountered in her life. With the rain there was a driving wind. It billowed the curtains, sent papers flying, knocked down ornaments, scattered flowers in vases, and even after Mrs. Campbell and Frances had hastily rushed to close windows, it came under the doors and continued its wild threshing. Frances saw that the lawns outside already were lakes of water, the pool no longer the sparkling blue toy that she and Jason had found such pleasure in but a mirror that had been shattered into a million sharp pieces by a sudden violent blow.

To be heard you had to shout ... something that amused Jason who had been brought in from the therapy room by a frankly uneasy Jenny (and Frances did not blame her for that). But very soon Jason’s amusement was disappearing, for, like a cannon discharging, the real deluges began. If they had thought the rain menacing previously now they knew another rain. A violent sheet of water descended instantly, making the roof shudder at its impact while at the same time the flogging wind kept hurling the grey sheets at the windows until three of them broke.

Now Jason stopped laughing, and Jenny and Frances, looking meaningly at each other, tried to devise means of diverting him. It was not very easy. They were frightened themselves.

The men came up to the homestead soon afterwards as the stouter building would offer more protection, for it seemed that protection was going to be needed. As the door was opened to let them in the curtains billowed again, the papers flew and everything lifted. But it was not much better when the door was closed once more. A thousand demons seemed to be beating outside to come in, crashing, smashing demons bearing wet violence, drops as hard and sharp as javelins. The mad fury kept on for over an hour, then, blessedly, thought Frances, it began to taper off.

But no real blessing yet. She soon learned that from the men. They were cornered together, talking gravely, and when they turned their faces showed how they considered the position. It was the overseer who spoke the decision they had come to.

‘In Burn’s absence I’m taking over,’ Bill Furness said, ‘and in doing this I know I’ll be doing what the boss would have ordered.’

‘Doing what?’ It was Jennifer, her arm protectively around Jason. ‘You look so serious. Isn’t it all over?

‘It’s barely begun.’

As they stared in disbelief, he said, ‘The hard deluges, yes, but as you can see the rain is still keeping on. Even if it stopped I think it would be too late. We
examined the river level before we came up, and
—’
He spread his hands.

‘But we’re on an offshoot,’ put in Frances.
‘Surely
—
’ She stopped. She was remembering the
day she first had come to West of the River and how Burn West had regretted his absence when the homestead had been built. ‘If the river rises...’ he had said. Now it had risen.

‘Won’t all the water just flow past? Just go much quicker?’ asked Jenny.

‘Yes to both. But’ ... a pause ... ‘it will also
spread.
And don’t think a river spreading is a leisurely affair because I’ve been in a river flood before and I know. I want all the women, and Jason, on higher ground at once. Seven Fields will do excellently. Take to the cars, ladies, and as quickly as you can. Bring essentials, nothing else, and don’t be long. I don’t want to alarm you, but I think it could come fairly soon and come fast. The weir was never built for an onset like this.’

Sandra, Dawn and Cook already had scuttled away to throw their possessions in their cases. As they were only employees they had not ‘spread’ themselves and were out again promptly and one of the jackeroos was taking them and their things to the first available car.

Frances felt sorry for Mrs. Campbell, though.
She
had been here as one of the family and it was hard for her. But she was not a housekeeper and a Scot for nothing. She came out almost as quickly as the girls, a small bag and a photograph ... a family scene that even from across the room Frances could tell was the
West family, father, mother, two boys ... under her
arm.

Jenny, too, was well trained. She chose quickly and efficiently, packing essentials for Jason as well.

‘Did you put in my car book?’ asked Jason anxiously. ‘The elephant?’

Frances came last.

The usual crisp lawn when they left the house squelched ominously under them almost as though they walked on hollow ground. Occasionally they sank down calf-deep. Frances could scarcely credit that in such a short time rain could have penetrated to such a depth.

She glanced to the river, but could not define the bank, only a rushing mass of water that spread everywhere, growing deeper and greyer as it progressed. Some of the bordering shrubs were already uprooted and those that still withstood the tide showed only their tops above the bubbling swirl. In certain parts of the lawn they were now wading knee-deep, and Jason was swung up into the jackeroo’s arms. The cars had been driven to the highest ground possible, but even then the water lapped well up the tyres.

‘Get in and keep your fingers crossed we can start,’ Bill called.

Cook, Sandra and Dawn were already chugging away to safety. Mrs. Campbell, Jenny, Jason and Frances got into the next car.

‘What about the men?’ Frances asked.

‘They’ll be jake. There’s a few things to be done yet.’

‘Sandbagging?’ she supposed.

‘We thought of that. Even filled up a supply. But it would take too long and we’d have too few. But the tractors and gear will have to be moved, and, of course,
the stock.’

‘What about the horses?’ asked Jason anxiously.

In his concentration Bill did not answer him, and in her own concern ... where was Burn? was he safe? ... Frances did not see Jason’s face.
She remembered his question, though, when later, looking for him in their shelter at Seven Fields, she could not find him. The rain had stopped altogether now. It seemed almost ridiculous remaining here, and yet Bill had said it was no longer the wet but the accumulation of wet that was the danger. It was the overworked weir.

‘Jason,’ she called, ‘where are you, dear?’

Jenny had come to her previously and said, looking directly at her, ‘I’m going over to Great Rock to see if he’s—if everything’s all right. I can’t explain now, but I will. I’ve come to a decision about that. But meanwhile, Frances, can you look after Jason?’

‘Go along,’ Frances had said.

She had helped Susan make tea. Susan frankly enjoying the diversion, especially since Hugh was now home so that she knew her little family was safe.

Then Frances had looked for Jason. She looked everywhere. She asked the children quietly. No, they did not know.

Then Ian said, ‘He asked me if horses could swim.’

‘Did you tell him yes?’ breathed Frances.

‘No, I told him no, just for a joke. But he didn’t give me time to tell him properly. He went somewhere else.’

‘How long ago, Ian?’

‘A long time. Soon after you came here.’

‘Went where?’

But Ian couldn’t say.

Frances
felt she could, though. All at once she was hearing Jason’s anxious question of Bill, a question that Bill had not had time to answer.

‘What about the horses?’ he had asked.

Jason, she knew, had gone back to see Candy.

She did not alert the men. They had not long come in from West of the River; Bill had told her that they had tried the sandbagging once again then finally had had to relinquish the idea. They were dead tired. Besides, a child on foot, thought Frances, could not get very far. She went quietly to the first available car, got
in and drove off.

But it was amazing, she marvelled, as she drove on and on in the direction of the homestead, how far determined small legs, particularly when you considered they were thin, barely-recovered little legs like Jason’s,
could
get. There was simply no sign of the boy, so he must have sidetracked through the bush; she had heard ... so certainly Jason would have heard ... of the short cut.

She wondered whether to go on or return, but knowing by now that stubborn small spirit, she decided to keep trying. She passed through the homestead gate, not stopping to shut up again now, then squelched along the pine drive until the ground beneath the wheels told her to drive no further.

It was all right on foot, though, in fact she considered that if anything the water had receded, which meant that the weir was coping after all. Yet for all her optimism, when she got out of the car Frances still hurried. She could not have explained why she did so, the sky was clear, the violence all gone. But she ran.

Reaching the house at last, she skirted by
it ...
Jason would not be there ... and made directly for the stables. Pausing halfway for breath, for it had been an arduous run, she told herself how silly she was being, the men would have removed the horses
first
.

That momentary stop probably saved Frances’ life. For one moment the stables stood and the next moment they were a swirling mass. She could hardly believe that in such a short time the river, that had seemed so much calmer, in fact almost normal, suddenly had rushed up to suck the buildings ... leave nothing behind.

For there were certainly no horses once the structure had been swept off, though she had known there wouldn’t be ...
but had there been, could there have been, a boy?

She peered blindly through the drift that seemed to have settled everywhere. She shouted his name.

‘Jason! Jason!’

No answer.

‘
Jason
!’

‘I’m here, France! On the little island.’—So the island was not inundated, even though the stables were finished.

‘I came to look for Candy,’ Jason called pathetically. ‘I thought they might have put Candy here for safety, because it’s higher, like they put us at Seven Fields. But’ ... forlornly ... ‘Candy wasn’t here.’ The little voice broke mournfully across the water.

‘Jason, how did you get there?’

In the little red boat. Only the boat sailed away when I got out. Do you think Burn will rouse?’

‘No. But stay there, darling, I’m coming as well.’

Even as she said it, Frances fell over. Over and over. The wave, as sudden a wave as had claimed the stables, toppled her along with it. How far it would have borne her she did not know, nor care, for instantly she was beyond knowing or caring in that frenzied whirling. All thoughts of striking out to Jason were gone. Everything was gone.
And when she opened her eyes again, that emptiness was Frances’ first frightening impression. Everything and everybody gone. The house and the outhouses gone. Even the little island gone.—Which meant that Jason, too, had gone. Everything and everybody ...
except herself.
And Burn West,
she suddenly saw. Looking down
on her.

CHAPTER TWELVE

‘He’s
all right.’ Burn West had seen the apprehension in Frances’ eyes and he reassured her at once. ‘Jason is safe.’

‘And the others?’ she whispered.

‘Safe, too.’

‘The horses ... the stock?’

‘Safe.’

‘
What about the house?’ She could not see it, had it
—

He gave a shrug. ‘Still standing, still there. Though
it won’t be for long. No, France, you haven’t returned to an empty world, I’ve simply put you down where you can’t see out.’

‘You said the house won’t be there for long,’ she asked him. ‘Do you mean
—
’

‘No, I don’t mean the flood will take it, for the flood has almost gone. Oh, we might have a swollen river for a while, but the old storage tank I always frowned upon has dismantled ... thank heaven ... so we’ll never have this little episode again.’ He glanced around.

‘
Was that what happened? The storage tank burst?’