Kakadu Sunset (17 page)

Heather pulled a face and turned to Kane. ‘If you can take a quick look, maybe I won’t have to go in Dad’s smelly truck.’

Terry laughed and shook his head. ‘I don’t know why you don’t get yourself a ute like the rest of us, Uncle Bill.’

‘Perfectly good Land Cruiser wagon. It’ll see me out.’ He stepped back from the boat. ‘Fifteen minutes or I go without you, missy.’

‘Come on, Kane.’ Heather held her hand out but Kane ignored it and stepped past her to the gate.

‘Where is it?’

‘In the staff car park.’

Bill narrowed his eyes as he looked at Kane. ‘Fourteen minutes.’

Heather and Kane walked quickly to the car park and she dug out her keys.

‘Pop the bonnet and I’ll have a look.’

As Heather closed the door and moved around beside him, he was conscious of her soft breasts pushed into his arm and he moved away. A bit too blatant for him. Besides, he’d stuffed up with a female staff member once already, and he had no intention of taking Heather up on her rather obvious offer.

‘Where did you get to last night? You left early.’ Her perfume washed over him as she leaned into him again. ‘I didn’t get a dance with you.’

‘Yeah.’ His reply was noncommittal.

‘Ellie left early too.’

‘Did she?’ If gossip was what she was after, he wasn’t going to satisfy her need. He wasn’t one to kiss and tell. He stretched away from her and reached into the engine. ‘You were right.’ He chuckled. ‘It
is
ratshit. Looks like rats have chewed through a cable.’

‘Bloody rats. It’s happened before.’ Heather turned around and leaned back on the front of the car, and put her shoulders back to emphasise her breasts.

‘This won’t start until you get that cable replaced.’ Kane stepped back and held the bonnet with one hand, waiting for her to move out of the way so he could slam it shut. ‘Do you want me to get one and fix it for you?’

‘Oh, that would be so lovely of you.’ Her voice was soft and breathy.

‘You’d better get a move on if you want a lift home with your dad.’

‘Kane.’ She reached out and put a hand on his arm, but before she could say whatever was on her mind – and he had a fair idea of what that was – her phone trilled.

Heather pulled it out of her pocket and glanced at the screen. Kane stepped away again as a small smile tipped her lips.

‘Hi, Ellie. Sorry, can’t talk now. I’m with Kane.’ Her voice lowered but Kane heard her soft whisper. ‘My turn.’

Monday
Porter Farm

Shortly after Heather had cut her call short, Ellie turned her small sedan off the highway. The thought of Heather with Kane shouldn’t have bothered her, but it gave her a funny feeling in her chest that settled there until she reached the old farm.

By now they were probably in the bar having an after-work drink. Bloody
my turn
. She tried to tell herself not to be petty. After all, she wasn’t going to sleep with Kane again, so if he wanted to take up with Heather, that was fine by her.

It was.

As she drove up the rutted driveway, she briefly considered simply continuing nonchalantly past the house to the back of the farm, but old habits die hard. It was no longer her property, and she needed permission before she went wandering over someone else’s land.

The place still looked abandoned, no black Jeeps roaring down the driveway today. The front door was closed and the curtains were drawn across the front windows. The house sat sleeping in the late afternoon sun. There was no sign of Kane’s mother. Maybe she was out? In the far distance, a small plume of smoke rose in a lazy spiral. Not enough to indicate a burn-off, but enough to let her know that somebody was down at the back boundary.

Ellie parked the car at the front of the house, and slowly walked up the stairs onto the verandah. The old tank stand next to the kitchen still leaned at the same precarious angle. She and Emma had sat beneath that tank playing with frogs as the heavy rains of the wet season had clattered onto the tin roof of the house. Mum had been horrified and had scrubbed their hands and had spent days waiting for the warts to appear.

Another old wives’ tale
. There’d been lots of them. Most of all Ellie remembered the laughter . . . and the smells: the pungent aroma of the tobacco from Dad’s pipe, the ever-present sweet scent of the mangoes in boxes at the top of the steps.

Ellie swallowed, trying to force away the ache that stuck in her throat. Those memories felt real – real enough that she half expected to peer around the corner and see Dad heading down through the trees on the old tractor. Real enough to toss her school bag into the old sleep-out and follow the day’s cooking smells into the kitchen, where Mum would be standing in her gaudy apron, her hair held back in a rubber band, her cheeks flushed from the heat of the old wood stove.

Standing on the familiar verandah, just being
here
, was very different to standing at the gate looking in from a distance like she had the other day. That had been like looking through a filter, or at a photograph, something that didn’t really exist. Now the creaking of the front step and the same old empty pots on the verandah took her immediately back to her childhood. Ellie hovered on the quiet edge of her memories and thought about turning around, getting into her car and leaving.

I can’t
. Now that she’d seen the earthworks she was going to find out what was happening. Panos had been lying to her the other day. She was sure of that. Bill knew something as well, but for some reason he wasn’t telling either. She might have lost her father, but if this was a way to help her mother get out of that dark place that had ensnared her, it had to be done.

Gulping a deep breath, Ellie forced her feet to take her to the front door. She raised one hand and curled her fingers, hesitating as she thought of what to say if the door opened. She straightened her shoulders; if Panos Sordina came to the door himself, she would be polite.

She knocked and waited.

Maybe there’s no one here?
Maybe she could just go for a walk through the old orchards and see what was happening. If anyone asked, she would say she was looking for . . . looking for something or someone. She’d figure out what if she had to. She turned towards the steps but the familiar rattle of the key in the front door made her stop. Turning back slowly, Ellie watched as the door opened and a tall thin woman leaned around to look at her.

‘Yes?’ The voice was soft and the expression wary. ‘Can I help you?’

‘Hello.’ Ellie stepped forward and forced a friendly smile to her lips. ‘My name is Ellie Porter. I used to live here and I was driving past and –’

‘Ellie! Come in, come in.’ The woman pulled the door back and stepped aside so Ellie could enter. ‘My son mentioned that you might drop by sometime.’

‘I don’t want to intrude. I just wanted to –’

‘Don’t be silly. Of course you’re going to come in.’ She looked at Ellie curiously. ‘You don’t remember me, do you?’

‘No, I’m sorry. You’re Mrs Sordina?’ She was not what Ellie had imagined.

‘Yes, I am. But please call me Susan. I spent a couple of afternoons here with your mother when – before your dad’s funeral. You’ve grown up.’

A wisp of memory clung to Ellie’s thoughts. Her mother had had a friend called Susan. But this thin woman didn’t look like the woman she remembered at Dad’s funeral. That woman had been plump with blonde, curly hair. She took a step forward and followed Susan into the house.

‘It’s time for afternoon tea. Would you like to have a cup of tea with me?’ She looked at Ellie with a gentle smile. ‘I’d enjoy the company.’

Ellie’s throat closed up and she tried to think of a polite way to refuse. She closed her eyes for a second.

‘Are you all right?’

She opened her eyes and swallowed the lump. Susan was looking at her with a frown and the strong light streaming through the large kitchen window from the west accentuated the deep furrows in her forehead and the dark shadows beneath her eyes. She could see where Kane got his cheekbones. As Ellie looked closer, she realised Susan was still in her dressing gown.

‘Oh, I’m sorry. Were you taking a nap?’

‘No.’ A dismissive wave as she crossed to the sink and filled the kettle. ‘I was having a lazy day. Reading in bed.’

All was quiet apart from the water spitting from the old tap over the sink.
The kitchen was the same as it had ever been; if anything it was in an even worse state
of repair. Paint hung from the ceiling in loose peels, and there were a couple of large
brown stains that indicated a leaking roof. Not what you want in the wet season in the
Territory.

The familiar smells of her mother’s cooking were long gone and a mouldy damp smell pervaded the air. No sweet aroma of mango chutney lingered, although there were still a few bright yellow stains on the old combustion stove and down the wall where the pots had once boiled over during her childhood. No matter how much Mum had scrubbed, the stains remained.

Susan watched as Ellie’s gaze moved around the room before she gestured for her to sit at the table. ‘I know. The house is in poor condition. My husband has promised to get it seen to.’ But Ellie sensed a lack of conviction in her voice.

Why on earth are they living in this dump?
Because that’s what it was now. Neglected and rundown. Kane had said they had lived in Darwin before and suddenly a memory pierced Ellie like a sharp needle prick.

‘You’re the Susan that my mother knew in Darwin. She used to visit you at the beach . . . at Cullen Bay?’

‘Yes, that’s right. We met at the CWA national conference the year it was held in Darwin. Your mother’s mango chutney was famous. She scooped all the prizes at the show that year.’

‘I remember now.’ That school holiday they’d left Dad at the farm and had a girls’ week away; she’d forgotten all about it. Typical – the good memories disappeared and the bad ones stayed to haunt your dreams. ‘We stayed at a caravan park near the showground and when Mum went to visit you, she dropped the three of us at a big shopping centre. Em, Dru and I shopped all day.’

They’d bought make-up and magazines and had lunch at the food court and felt very grown up. She smiled; that was her first taste of a cappuccino and her sisters had laughed as she’d spat the bitter flavoured milk into a tissue after ordering and trying to look mature.

‘How is your mother?’ Ellie looked up at the woman sitting across the table and the sadness on her face surprised her. ‘I’ve written to her a few times over the years but I didn’t know if she was still living around here. She was a good friend to me when I used to come out here and visit Panos, but we lost touch when Peter . . . when your dad . . .’

Ellie’s pleasant memories evaporated like the steam that began to puff from the kettle on the old wood stove. Leaning back into the chair, she held the other woman’s intent gaze. ‘She’s doing okay. She’s moved away.’ It was all she could manage. After all, this woman offering her tea and kind words was the wife of the man who Mum blamed for Dad’s death. Of course she wasn’t going to send a chatty letter back.

Dear Susan, how are you? How’s your husband? I don’t have one anymore
.

The kettle let out a piercing whistle and Susan pushed herself up slowly from the table. As she stood, her dressing gown gaped open at the front and Ellie caught a glimpse of long, stick-like legs beneath the edge of the knee-length nightie.

‘Tea?’ Susan pulled her gown together and retied the belt.

Ellie nodded. All she wanted to do was get out of here, but Susan’s loneliness was palpable and she didn’t want to seem ill-mannered. As the older woman bustled about lifting down a tea caddy and opening the fridge, Ellie’s gaze settled on the small white boxes in the middle of the kitchen table. Medication – six boxes of varying size. She tipped her head to the side, knowing it was rude, but she couldn’t help herself. ‘Susan Sordina’ was typed on each label.

She started as Susan placed two cups on the table in front of her. ‘Would you like a biscuit? I’m sorry I don’t have any home baking to offer you.’

Ellie waved her hand. ‘That’s fine. A cup of tea is plenty.’

Much more than she’d intended when she’d knocked at the door. All she wanted to do was get out of this house with its dead smells, stained walls and cloying memories. Susan gestured to the boxes on the table. ‘They make up most of my diet these days. I’ve not been well, and I haven’t had a chance to bake. Not even a CWA scone in the freezer.’ She laughed but she caught her breath and for a moment Ellie thought the woman was going to cry, but she put her hand to her mouth and coughed. ‘My husband works in Darwin, so I’m here by myself through the week. It’s lovely having Kane visit, though. He came on Saturday and Sunday but he was busy this afternoon, so it’s nice to have an unexpected visitor.’ Her breath was short and choppy.

‘I’ll call in again next time I go to Darwin.’ The words were out before Ellie could think. Of course, if Kane was visiting there was no need to offer, but she felt sad to see this woman looking so lost and lonely. Her smile was sweet and again, Ellie saw a flash of Kane in Susan’s deep hazel eyes.

Susan’s hand shook as she lifted her cup to her mouth. ‘So Ellie, Kane tells me you’re a helicopter pilot as well. What a lovely coincidence that the two of you should end up working together.’

Ellie lifted her cup and sipped the hot tea. Guilt trickled through her as Susan’s face came alight. Why guilt would hit her, she didn’t know. She didn’t have anything to hide.

‘What brings you back to the old place?’

‘I saw Kane’s Jeep here the other day when I was driving back from Darwin. He told me you lived here.’

‘So you decided to call in? That was so sweet of you. I’m so pleased there is a – a sort of – connection between us. Kane needs friends.’ Susan looked over Ellie’s head to the windows and was quiet for a moment. When she turned back she reached over and took her hand. Her grip was tight and her fingers were like ice. Ellie looked down at the thin hand gripping her fingers. Susan’s skin had a slight yellowish tinge and the veins stood out on the back of her hand.