Heart of the Outback (6 page)

“Christ Almighty!” The breath whooshed out of a shocked CJ. He tried to grasp what Gus was telling him. “I can’t believe it.”

“Sister Damien says to come quick. Mickey’s breathing’s all funny. She don’t reckon he’ll last till the FDS gets here.”

CJ turned away from Gus and slowly exhaled. A chill ran all the way through him. Mickey.
No.
Fighting to control his emotions he balled his hands
into tight fists. He’d experienced this sense of helpless frustration before. When his grandfather had died, and then his mother. For God’s sake get a grip, he ordered himself. But Mickey Edgars was the closest thing he’d had to a real mate in years. He blinked rapidly to push back a suspicious moistness. Tough men don’t cry, he remembered his dad telling him at his mother’s and grandfather’s funeral.

Groaning, CJ grabbed the blue checked shirt he’d hung over the mine’s winch, he pulled it on in a jerky movement. “Let’s go then.”

Mickey’s death hit CJ harder than he would have thought possible. He was utterly distraught. To him it was inconceivable that the little man with the perky ways, energy, and love of life was now forever quiet and still.

The day of the funeral CJ got roaring, fighting, mad drunk — his way of dealing with the pain — until Gus had to restrain him by locking him in one of his storerooms until he sobered up. In the light of day and with a massive hangover he seemed to recover his self-control and went back to the M45 mine to work the grief out of his system.

Mary watched as he retreated into himself, and was at a loss to know what to do to help him. He had distanced himself from her since she had confirmed her pregnancy as if, by pretending it didn’t exist, the problem would go away. She knew they had to talk but CJ wasn’t in a talking mood. He had become consumed by an all encompassing passion to gouge the precious opal from its earthly hiding place, day in day out.

Two weeks after Mickey’s funeral CJ came into town on Saturday night and waited until Mary had finished working. They sat in his van afterwards, talking. Mary sensed the tension in him as if it were a tangible thing, and in her naivety regarding relationships, she didn’t know how to bridge the gap that had developed between them. He had stopped touching her too, which hurt immeasurably. It was as if she had become an acquaintance instead of his lover. That hurt too. But, unbearable as it was, she bore it, hoping against all hope for a change in him, a softening.

“New people have bought the general store,” she told him, trying for an impersonal topic to break the ice. “Gus says they’re immigrants and that they plan to open a cafe as well. I might try for a job with them.” Waiting on cafe tables had to be better than serving alcohol in a hotel bar.

“Immigrants, hey? They’ll fit right in here,” CJ said with a disinterested grunt.

She acknowledged that with a nod of her head. More than half of Coober Pedy’s inhabitants were foreigners who’d come here with the dream of finding their fortune in the desert town, which some likened to a twentieth-century version of an American frontier town.

Out of the blue, CJ said, “I think we should get away for a while. You’d love Adelaide, Mary, it’s a real pretty city. You’ve always wanted to see the place. You could buy some new clothes and shoes and we’ll take in the sights. Come with me, Mary.”

Hope began to beat inside her breast. Perhaps he was suggesting a new start for them — together.
She allowed herself to hope again. “I’d love to go. When?”

“As soon as you can fix it with Gus. You’ve been working for him for more than six months. You’d be entitled to a week’s holiday, I guess.”

“I’ll ask him tomorrow.” She looked across shyly at him, still unsure of his motives and his mood. “Are you staying in town tonight?”

CJ shook his head. He didn’t tell her that the level of precious opal had just about petered out, or that he’d lost the will to start a new search. It was time to move on — sell his cache of opals and make his dream come true.

“I’ve work to do at the mine. I’ll come in tomorrow afternoon for a bite to eat and you can tell me what you’ve organised. We’ll drive to Tarcoola and get the train to Adelaide. How does that sound?”

Her eyes sparkled. “Wonderful.”

CJ took Mary to Glenelg, the most popular beach in Adelaide. They travelled there on a rattly old tram which had delighted Mary. Being late autumn it was too cool to swim but despite the cold she removed her shoes and paddled in the Great Southern Ocean as they walked along the shoreline.

Her eyes were wide with amazement as she gazed out beyond the line of breakers. “I had no idea the ocean was so huge. It just goes on forever, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. All the way to Antarctica.”

“It’s beautiful and scary.”

He frowned. “Why’s that?”

She watched a two metre wave peak and crash into the surf. “It’s so fierce and untameable.”

“It is that.” He laughed briefly. “I went to sea once, to see if I liked it. I didn’t. I spent half the time in my bunk being seasick and the seas weren’t that rough. That helped me decide that a landlubber’s life was for me.” He looked down at her feet. “Mary, your feet are turning blue. We’ve time for a walk along the wharf and an ice-cream then we’d better be going. I promised to take you shopping, don’t you remember? We’ll dine out in style tonight so you’ll need a new outfit.”

The thought of dining out in a posh Adelaide restaurant filled Mary with a sense of dread and nervousness. She feared she would touch or do or say the wrong thing. But really she knew she shouldn’t worry. Since they’d arrived CJ had been almost his old self so she was trying hard not to annoy him.

“Of course. I want to buy some things to take back to Coober Pedy.” Baby things, but she didn’t tell him that. There was little to be gained by mentioning the baby and possibly starting an argument. Perhaps CJ just needed time to get used to the idea of being a father. Some men did, she’d heard.

The city of Adelaide was a revelation to Mary Williams. Coming from the bush she had never seen the like. The roads were wide and straight, the buildings majestically tall and the many churches — of several denominations with their fine architecture, spires, and limestone carvings — were wondrous to behold. So were the parks and the diverse shrubs which grew profusely. She had never seen such colour or beauty in anything other than books. And there were streets and streets of shops with all kinds of merchandise for sale. She went about goggle-eyed at
the variety of wares, and at the prices asked. CJ insisted on paying for everything. That rankled a little. She was independent enough not to want him to, but deep inside it pleased her that he offered, and she chose to believe it was a further sign of commitment.

They were staying at an expensive hotel in separate rooms with an inter-connecting bathroom between them. They went everywhere in taxis. And if the truth were known she was enjoying being spoilt and cosseted. No-one had ever made a fuss of her before but CJ made her feel special. So, perhaps naively, she saw that as a sign that he was coming around and would, she hoped, before they returned to Coober Pedy, ask her to marry him.

They spent three leisurely days exploring Adelaide. CJ crammed so much into their daytime activities that straight after dinner fatigue overtook Mary and all she’d want to do was climb into bed and sleep.

On the fourth day, after breakfast in the hotel’s dining room, CJ broke from their topic of conversation to say, “I want you to see a doctor, Mary. Just to check things out.”

“Why? The doctor comes to Coober Pedy regularly and there’s the FDS for emergencies. As well, Sister Damien’s a midwife. That’s enough, surely?”

“Just for me. Please?” he coaxed, smiling.

CJ was irresistible when he smiled. “Very well.” Besides, wasn’t this another sign that he cared and that he wanted everything to be right for her and the baby?

They took a taxi to the address: a neat, unassuming claystone house in the suburb of Frewville. Inside, in
the foyer, a nurse in white showed them to a small waiting room.

Mary wrinkled her nose at the lingering odour of methylated spirits. It reminded her of the hospital and Mickey. She missed Mickey Edgars and his bright ways. The little man had been blessedly uncomplicated, not like CJ. The man she loved seethed with ambition and energy and continual schemes for making money. Even now when the M45 mine was making him wealthy she sensed that he wanted more. With a wisdom beyond her years she realised CJ would always be that way, driven by the need to be bigger, and to have more than the next man.

A squat, bespectacled man wearing a white cotton coat came into the room and introduced himself. “I’m Doctor Becker.” He looked at Mary and smiled reassuringly. “Tell me, my dear, how far are you into the pregnancy?”

“Twelve weeks, doctor.”

“Good.” The doctor nodded meaningfully at CJ. “Any further along and there would be considerable risk.”

“What risk?” Mary asked, perplexed. “What do you mean, doctor?”

“Err, Mary,” CJ took her by the elbow and motioned her towards the window. “Doctor Becker is a special kind of doctor.” He looked into her eyes as he held both her hands, as if compelling her by his will alone to obey him. “I don’t want this baby, you know that. I’m not in a position to offer you anything official or legal. You understand? I have a commitment to someone else up north. Do you understand what I’m trying to say, Mary?” Without
waiting for an acknowledgment he rushed on. “But … I am concerned about you and your welfare. Having a baby could ruin your life. The stigma, you know, on unmarried mothers is still severe, especially in country towns.”

“CJ …” The revelation hit her hard —
he was engaged to another woman.
Oh, God, no!

“Listen to me, Mary. You’re very young. You’ll get over this and find someone who’s just right for you. You’ll get married and start a family then — not now.”

“I don’t understand, I thought…” What had she thought? She had thought this trip meant something special to him. It didn’t. It was his way of saying goodbye.
Another woman
! The harsh reality of what he’d said drummed into her brain. The nuns had been right, it was foolish to trust a man. Another thing was true too, they only had one thing on their mind.

“It doesn’t hurt too much, Miss Williams. Just some discomfort and a pricking sensation. That’s all. Then everything comes away naturally,” Doctor Becker said matter-of-factly. “I’ll give you a light anaesthetic — you’ll hardly feel a thing.”

Mary stared at CJ and suddenly understood what kind of a doctor Becker really was. “You brought me here for an abortion?” she cried.

He nodded affirmatively. “It’s for the best, Mary. You mightn’t see it now, but later on you will. Of that I’m sure.”

“Well, damn you, CJ Ambrose, I’m not, I won’t do it! How could you ask me? I’m Catholic, for God’s sake — it’s a sin.” Her wits were scattering to the four corners of the room. She couldn’t believe he wanted this. “Don’t you have any feeling for me or
the child? Your child,” she reminded him pointedly. An intense pain tore into her heart and squeezed it violently. How could she love such a cold, calculating man? Didn’t he care for her at all, didn’t he have any sensitivity as to how she felt, or what she wanted?

Sensing the matter was getting heated the doctor moved to leave. “I’ll wait in my office until you finish your discussion.”

“I’m thinking of you, Mary —”

“Bullshit!” She never swore but now, suddenly, she was beside herself with anger. All those months, thinking he’d loved her as she loved him. Lies. Lies! “You’re thinking of yourself. Solely of yourself. All right, so you don’t want to marry me, that’s pretty clear. I see
everything
clearly now. I was just a source of amusement for you, while you were away from your precious fiancèe. But,” her chin lifted, “you are not going to make me give up my child.”

“Listen to me,” he shook her by the shoulders, “it’s not my life that’ll be ruined, it’s yours.”

“I don’t care.” She raised her hand to prise his fingers away from her. “Don’t touch me. I love this baby we made together and I will have it, with or without your support.” She looked him up and down as if she were seeing him clearly for the first time, and disliking what she saw. The trouble was she still loved him, even though she now saw him in his true light. More fool her!

“You’ve made your fortune and you didn’t even have to share it with Mickey,” she reminded him. “Why don’t you take your precious opals back to your sweetheart? Show her, I’m sure she’ll be impressed.” Her brown eyes moved about the sterile
environment and when they returned to CJ they were full of loathing. “I want to get out of here. This place and
you
make me sick to my stomach.”

The next day Mary returned to Coober Pedy on the train without CJ. She never saw him again.

“CJ. CJ, are you awake?”

A voice roused CJ from his memories. He jerked upright in the chair. His hand ran through his thinning grey hair and then stroked the stubble on his cheek. He listened to the rasping sound beneath his fingers.

“CJ?”

“I’m all right, leave me alone.” He heard Natalie’s purposely loud sigh through the solid oak door and grinned. His stepdaughter would hate being discharged like this, but he didn’t care. He’d needed time alone. Things to come to terms with. Memories to put into their rightful place.

“It’s getting late. Shellie thought you might want something to eat. She’s worried about you.”

“Well, I’m fine. Go away.” CJ’s tone was deliberately dismissive just to annoy her. He liked getting Natalie’s dander up. Always had. Ever since he’d married Brenda and become Natalie’s stepfather, he’d enjoyed getting under her skin. In many ways they were alike, too alike. Quick-tempered, ambitious, ruthless. Unfortunately, she had other character traits that weren’t to his liking — cattiness, a common tongue and she lied — and in all her thirty years of living with him a subtle cold war had gone on between them. The verbal skirmishes had escalated since Brenda’s death as his wife had been the only one able to keep Natalie in line. And now … and
now, with Richard gone she would be regarded by all and sundry — including herself — as his rightful, his only heir.