Kakadu Sunset (18 page)

‘We’re a fine pair. He’s not been well either.’ She gave a little laugh but there was no mirth in it. She sounded almost embarrassed that perhaps she was sharing something she shouldn’t.

‘I don’t know Kane very well. We just work together.’

Except that we just had sex last night
.

‘No, you wouldn’t. He is a very private man.’ Susan bit her lip and stared at Ellie. The look on her face indicated she was about to share something. ‘Did he tell you what happened in Afghanistan?’

‘Afghanistan? No.’

‘He’s getting better, and he is a strong man like his father was. He’s healing, I know he is.’ She looked away and stared at the wall, but kept a tight grip on Ellie’s hand. ‘I almost lost him, you know. I’ll never forget the night our phone rang and it was his commander, telling me his helicopter had been shot down. I thought he was dead.’

Ellie stared at Susan as Kane’s refusal to fly began to make sense. She should have guessed it was something like that.

‘He’s so worried about my health, but he won’t look after himself. And he’s a man. He refuses to accept that the death of his crew has damaged him.’

Death of his crew?
A surge of sympathy rushed through Ellie and she blinked away the moisture that suddenly threatened her eyes.

‘He received a commendation, you know, before he was medically discharged. He carried one of his crew through hostile territory, even with a shattered hip.’ She lifted her face to Ellie’s. ‘She was dead before the helicopter hit the ground, but he still carried her out across the sand dunes.’

Oh fuck
. No wonder he didn’t want to fly.

‘I didn’t know any of that.’ Ellie spoke slowly. ‘But it explains his limp.’

‘So.’ Susan sat back. ‘Knowing that he works with you has eased my mind. You’ll make a lovely friend for him, my dear.’ Susan’s cup landed in its saucer with a gentle tinkle.

A lovely friend
. Just the sort of thing her mother would once have said, before the world became too difficult for her.

‘I’ll . . . I’ll look out for him.’ Ellie stood and carried both of their cups over to the old sink. She rinsed them and turned back to Susan.

‘I noticed the orchard has been let go. I wondered if your husband was going to revive it.’ She wasn’t going to tell her she’d spoken to Panos already.

‘No.’ Susan shook her head. ‘This is just somewhere for us to live for a while. Or it was supposed to be us. I’m afraid Panos doesn’t cope well with illness.’

Ellie’s heart went out to her. ‘Would you mind if I had a look around while I’m here? It’s been a long time since I’ve been back.’ She fiddled with the car keys in her pocket, feeling guilty for not being quite truthful. Well, it was the truth in a way.

‘Not at all.’ Susan stood and supported herself on the back of the chair. She looked so ill that Ellie wondered if she should really be here alone. ‘Feel free to have a look around. My husband is having a new dam built down the back, so you might find some workers down there. There’s been utes back and forth all morning. Tell them I said it was okay for you to go down there.’ Susan’s brow wrinkled and her lips pursed as she looked around the kitchen. ‘It would have been nicer to have a new kitchen instead of a new dam, but I suppose he thought there was no point.’ Her tone was resigned.

‘No point?’ Ellie reached out and put her hand over Susan’s on the back of the chair.

‘I’m dying, Ellie.’ Even though her voice was sad, there was a sense of stoic acceptance there. Ellie’s eyes filled with tears and an ache closed her throat at the next words to come from Susan’s mouth. ‘I haven’t told Kane what a short time I have left. He’s already been through so much. Please don’t tell him.’

Ellie caught her breath and this time the tears spilled over onto her cheek. ‘Should you be here alone?’

‘It’s the way things are.’ Susan reached over and wiped away the tear on Ellie’s cheek with the pad of her thumb. ‘I will tell him. But it really eases my mind to know that he will have a friend when my time comes. You’re a sweet girl, Ellie. You remind me very much of your mother.’

Ellie shoved the sealed cardboard carton into the boot of her car. Susan had taken her around to the laundry at the back of the house and pointed to a shelf above the double concrete tub.

‘This box was in the shed when we moved in. It had been shoved out there with some mango cartons, but it has your father’s name on the outside. They must have missed it when you moved. That’s one of the reasons I wrote to your mother.’ Susan covered her mouth and coughed again; a nasty rattling cough.

Ellie waited until she had caught her breath.

‘Can you take it to her? I don’t know what’s inside.’ Her breathing rasped around the words.

Ellie braced one hand on the old concrete tub as she reached up and tipped the edge of the small box, testing the weight. She levered the edge and balanced it on her palm until it slid off the shelf and she took a step back as she caught it. Dad’s loopy writing with the distinctive curl on the Ps stared back at her.
Peter Porter
. A childish giggle threatened. In their household the old nursery rhyme had always been ‘Peter Porter picked a peck of pickled peppers’. Ellie remembered how indignant Dru had been when she’d come home from school one afternoon and told Dad he had the rhyme wrong. He’d smiled his gentle smile and ruffled her hair.

‘Thank you.’ Ellie said to Susan. ‘I’ll tell Mum about it when I speak to her.’

But not before I look inside
.

Susan had walked her back around to the front of the house and watched as she put the box in the boot. She stood there as Ellie opened her car door. ‘It was so sweet of you to call in. If you are going past again, I’d love to see you.’ She straightened, gripping the edges of her dressing gown together with her claw-like hands. ‘I know. Next time Kane comes over, perhaps you could come for a drive with him and I’ll cook dinner for both of you.’ Her face brightened as though the thought of having something purposeful to do pleased her.

The ache took a tighter hold on Ellie’s throat and she nodded. ‘I will.’

I haven’t told Kane what a short time I have left. He’s already been through so much
. The love in Susan’s voice tore at Ellie’s composure. Life was bloody cruel.

The track to the back boundary had been recently graded. Ellie glanced to the side as she drove the three miles from the house through the orchard to the corner where the property was edged by the South Alligator River. The three small dams were full from the wet season just gone, and the brown water was dotted with an abundance of wild birds and whistling ducks. The irrigation pumps next to the dams were rusted, and the dead mango trees bore testament to the fact that the dams were no longer used for irrigation. Everything was dead and brown, including the thick tussock grass in the paddocks which was in need of a decent slash or burn – a cleaning of country. Ellie wished she could hop on a tractor and slash it herself, but those days were gone.

Her small sedan crested the hill that overlooked the final dam that was fed by the river. She drew in a gasp and hit the brakes. Pulling across to the side of the track, she opened the door slowly and put her hand up to her eyes to shade them from the late afternoon sun. The dam was bone dry. Huge cracks splintered the mud at its base. Old plastic containers littered the flat baked surface, exposed by the drying up of the water.

‘What the – ?’ A large motor started with a roar and Ellie strode across the road into the orchard then climbed the next hill, taking care to stay behind the stand of scrubby trees that delineated the back of the orchard from the river flats on the eastern boundary.

There was no sign of the huge trucks from last week, but three white utilities were parked at the bottom of the hill. A three-metre high wire fence enclosed a large square from the base of the hill to the river and the gates were closed, the padlock big enough for Ellie to see it from where she stood. It was the red scarred earth she’d seen from above, but it looked much wider from the ground.

‘New dam, my arse,’ she muttered. Something serious was going on here, and it had nothing to do with mango farming or a new fence. The machine over at the edge of the river backed up with another roar of its engine and a puff of smoke was followed by the squealing of steel on steel. Along the length of the back of the fence was a square pit lined with black plastic. It was half-full of discoloured water. The pipes she had seen from the air towered to the height of a house roof. Ellie took a step forward and peered through the dust that rose and obscured her vision. She frowned and wrinkled her nose as a strange odour filled her nostrils – a mix of gasoline and kerosene.

‘Hey! Stop right there!’

Ellie jumped and put her hand to her chest. Her heartbeat ramped up and she swallowed down the fear that burned in her throat. A huge guy with tattoos circling his neck was marching across the paddock towards her. His eyes were too small for the face that was set in a scowl. The sun glinted off his shaved head and the earrings in his right ear flashed as he closed the distance between them. He would have looked more at home on a motorbike than on any of the earthmoving machinery down the hill.

She thought quickly. ‘Oh, hello. Maybe you can help me?’ She let out a nervous giggle, but the nerves were for real. The pungent smell of sweat and body odour filled her nostrils as he came to a stop only inches from her side. He grabbed her arm and held it tightly as she tried to twist out of his grip.

‘Who the fuck are you? What are you doing here?’ His voice was deep and tinged with an Eastern European accent.

‘I’m lost.’ She put on a timid voice. ‘I’m looking for the jumping crocodile show but I must have missed the turn. There was no one at the house down the road, and I saw the smoke down here.’

He turned her around and let go of her arm, only to push his hand into the small of her back. ‘This is private property.’

‘There’s no need to be like that. I’m only looking for the crocodile park.’ She cleared her throat and met his gaze.

‘You’re a tourist, huh?’

His gaze lowered and stared at her chest. Too late she realised she was in her work clothes and her khaki shirt was emblazoned with the Makowa Lodge logo.

‘I’m new here and I wanted to see the jumping crocodile show.’ She stuck to her story but in truth it was the last thing she wanted to see. Many locals wanted the jumping crocodile show banned and she agreed with them. A man had been killed last dry season when a four-metre crocodile had jumped up and snatched him from his tinnie.

‘Like I said, get in your car and piss off.’

Ellie’s temper fired. ‘There’s no need to be like that. What’s going on down here, anyway?’

She flinched as his large sweaty hand grabbed hers again and he dragged her down the hill to her car. A white ute was parked beside it; she hadn’t heard it over the noise of the machinery she’d been watching.

‘Get in your car and leave or you’ll be charged with trespassing.’ He shoved her roughly towards the car.

Her hands shook as she shoved the key into the ignition and started the car. With a spray of gravel to rival that of Kane’s exit last week, the wheels spun as she turned the car towards the highway.

Before she reached the top of the hill she glanced back. The man held a phone to his ear.

Monday
Arnhem Highway

Ellie’s lips trembled as her hands gripped the steering wheel. What she had seen beside the South Alligator River confirmed her worst fears. The ground was ripped to pieces; the soft red soil now slashed into huge channels by the machinery parked inside that wire-fenced compound. And that tattooed guy had terrified her. What the hell were they doing down there that needed a thug to guard it? But she knew. She’d read enough of Mum’s files and seen enough photographs to know that hydraulic fracking was underway.

But how had it been kept so quiet? There’d been nothing in the paper about it – except that denial from Sordina. Did anyone else know? Maybe this was why Bill had been so cagey the other day. Something was seriously wrong here and it was up to her to put a stop to it.

The communication towers at Jabiru appeared in the distance and when she reached the turn-off, Ellie took a left into the small township. She pulled over to the side of the road near the bakery and hurried inside.

She bought a takeaway coffee from the young Aboriginal girl and then hurried back to the car. Her hands were still shaking as she balanced the cardboard cup on the bonnet and ripped open three packets of sugar to sweeten the drink. She needed something to calm her nerves and help her think rationally.

Taking a slug of the coffee and scalding her mouth in the process, Ellie pulled out her mobile and pressed the shortcut to Call Connect. Her hands were shaking too much to look through her recent calls for the number she wanted.

‘Town and name please.’ The call centre operator came on the line before she could think.

‘Ah . . . Darwin. The electoral office of Panos Sordina.’

‘Do you want to be connected?’

‘Yes. Yes, please. Put me through.’

The call was put through and Ellie tapped her hand on the roof of the car impatiently.

Eventually a woman answered the phone. ‘Good afternoon, can I help you?’

Ellie kept her voice calm. ‘I would like to speak to Mr Sordina, please.’

‘What shall I say it is in relation to?’

She fought for composure. ‘Tell him it’s Ellie Porter calling. Peter Porter’s daughter.’
That should get the bastard’s attention
.

It was only a moment before the call was picked up. ‘Ellie. What can I do for you?’

Ellie gritted her teeth. For a moment the words wouldn’t come, but then they tumbled out in a rush. ‘I’m going to give you one more chance to tell me the truth. What is really going on at the back of our old farm?’

Silence. And then he spoke and his voice sounded reedy. ‘You mean the new dam?’

‘That’s no dam you’re building.’ To Ellie’s dismay her voice broke. ‘Panos, what the hell is going on? Don’t you know it’s the boundary to Kakadu?’