Silver Clouds (10 page)

‘That you, Tessa?' her mother called.

‘Yes, it's me.' She willed her heart to slow and her hands to stop shaking.
It was a dingo. A bloody dingo and nothing else.
She held her breath for a moment before exhaling in a rush.

‘Could you lock the chooks up, petal?' Peggy called from down the hall. ‘Those darn chooks of Spider's won't go into the shed, so you'll have to pick them up and carry them in. They still haven't sorted out their pecking order. I haven't had a chance to get out there.'

It was the last thing Tessa wanted to do. ‘Um, Mum? I think there's a dingo out there.'

Peggy's face appeared in the doorway. ‘There probably is, my girl! I hear one every night about this time. If we don't get the chooks away, we won't have them or any eggs! Don't tell me it frightened you?' Her mother gave her an inquisitive look. ‘Goodness me, Tessa, you must have gone soft over there.' She bustled back into the kitchen. ‘Here,' she said, handing over the scrap bucket and a torch.

Tessa unwillingly took what her mother offered and turned back to the door. Why was she afraid? She knew it was only a dingo. Only a dingo. Not Aunty Spider's soul, not Kendra's soul. It was a damn dingo.

But she knew what dingoes could do. They were hunters and she'd seen them stalk and attack in packs. She shivered.

Angry now, she yanked open the door and raced out into the darkness. The lights from the porch gave a few metres of illumination before she had to rely on the torch. She walked purposefully towards the chook run. She soon established that Spider's chooks had managed to get themselves into the shed, but were not sleeping near the others. The chooks clucked and stirred as she flashed the light over them. Back out in the pen, she up-ended the bucket then, without stopping, she yanked the gate shut behind her, latched it, and ran back towards the comfort of the well-lit verandah.

Just before she reached the house she turned and flashed the torch behind her. Something glinted. She stopped, and pointed the beam into the darkness. Yep. There. A pair of yellow eyes.

Giving a strangled scream, she flew up the steps and into the house. The slamming of the door ricocheted through the night.

Peggy threw a couple of chops onto a plate already covered with mashed potato and vegies. Tessa tried not to screw up her nose – she wasn't sure how she would manage to eat so much protein and carbs in one hit. In London, mostly she ate salads, chicken and fish.

She picked up a plate and handed it to her father, then reached across for her own.

‘Thanks, Mum.'

There was silence while everyone started to eat. Then Paul put down his knife and fork and rested his elbows on the table.

‘So, Tessa,' he said slowly. ‘What are your plans?'

Tessa pretended to chew; it gave her time to deliberate. ‘Oh well, I should think about heading back, but Mr Anderson gave me as long as I needed.' She shrugged carelessly. ‘I'm enjoying being here so I might as well spend a bit of time,' she lied. ‘And I've got to wait until the plaque he ordered comes from Kal. He wanted to have something in the cemetery that linked back to his family.'

‘That's nice of him. And we're enjoying having you home.' Paul smiled at her. ‘I see you met Brendan McKenzie at Spider's funeral?'

Tessa's chewing slowed. ‘Mmm, yes, I did. He seemed lovely.'

‘Lovely being the operative word,' Peggy muttered.

‘Well, he seemed nice to me.' Tessa's tone sounded defensive, even to her own ears.

‘You need to be careful of him,' Paul said gently. ‘He's got a bit of a reputation for being, well, a ladies' man. I'm sure he comes across as nice and charming. But he's mixed up with a bad lot, Tessa. Just be mindful of that.'

‘Right.' Leaving her chops alone, Tessa shovelled in another mouthful of vegies. ‘I doubt I'll see him again, anyhow.'

‘Probably not,' Paul agreed. He glanced across at Peggy and Tessa caught the look.

‘What?'

‘There was a lady at Spider's funeral. Her name was Elsie,' Peggy started.

‘Yes. I met her on the plane coming to Kalgoorlie and talked to her briefly on the day.'

‘Did you? We weren't sure, but figured you must have known her somehow, because she left an envelope for you the day of the funeral. We wanted to give you a bit of time before we handed it over. Just to make sure you were strong enough . . .'

Annoyance rushed through her. ‘You don't need to protect me, Mum. I'm
fine
.' Tessa threw down her knife and fork and stared defiantly at her mother.

‘Fine is the most overused word in all of the English language,' Peggy retorted. ‘I'm fine usually means I'm
not
.'

‘Peggy,' Paul said mildly. He turned to Tessa. ‘We know you're okay,' he said. ‘But we also know what Spider meant to you. We're assuming whatever is in the envelope has something to do with her. If so, it may upset you.' He left the words hanging.

What Tessa knew he meant was, it might tip you over the edge again. Like with Kendra.

‘Maybe we're wrong. If we are, we're sorry, but we love you, Tessa. We want you to be fine.' He used his fingers to make speech marks around the word ‘fine'.

Tessa looked down. Her reaction had been over the top. ‘Sorry. But what is all this about? I know as much about Elsie as you can find out in a fifteen-minute conversation.'

Peggy and Paul exchanged glances.

Peggy shrugged ‘It's got to be about Spider. Can't be anything else. Elsie left instructions that you must speak to her before you open it.'

‘I can't imagine why. Would it be Spider's will? And if it is, why leave the letter to me? It should be with a solicitor.'

‘Spider didn't have much, really – just what's in her house – and she left her instructions with Paul. Maybe you should give Elsie a call tomorrow.'

The rest of dinner was eaten in silence. After the plates were collected, Peggy passed on the envelope. Tessa's name was scrawled on the front in a hand she didn't recognise. Elsie's details were clearly written on the back.

Tessa weighed it in her hand, turning it over and over. ‘I guess I can't open it until I speak to Elsie. Do you know anything about her?'

Paul shook his head. ‘We only recognise her name. Spider wrote heaps of letters – it was the only way she communicated, as you know.'

A shot of guilt went through Tessa and she couldn't hide it any longer. ‘I never answered her last letter,' she blurted. ‘I had it for at least two months and I never answered it.'

There was a pause. ‘There's not always time to do everything we want to do,' Peggy said finally.

‘I could have made time! I just didn't want to. I thought she'd see through what I wrote – she always could.'

‘Oh, Tessa, what would she see through? You've done so well over there. There was nothing for her to disapprove of. She wasn't supernatural. You've got to get over thinking she knew everything. She was just human, and you weren't doing anything wrong for her to see!' Peggy leaned forward and put her hand on her daughter's arm.

‘But I was. I was,' Tessa moaned, tears in her eyes. ‘I don't have to go back. I wasn't doing the job up to their standard.' Yes, better to tell them that than the truth. There were just things parents didn't need to know. ‘So I resigned.'

‘Oh, love! Why didn't you tell us?'

Tessa wiped the tears away. ‘I don't know. Everything was just too hard with Aunty Spider dying and coming back here. You know how difficult it has been for me to come home since Kendra's accident, but Aunty Spider left me no choice when she died. She probably knew that too.'

She got out of her chair and paced the room. ‘If I hadn't come home, then I probably wouldn't have resigned, but maybe I would have. I'm so confused.' Once she'd finished, she sank back into her chair, relieved some of her secrets were finally out in the open. The others would always stay hidden.

‘Well, sometimes home is the best place to sort those feelings out,' Paul said. ‘And you know you're welcome to stay here as long as you need.'

Tessa gave a watery smile. ‘I've really stuffed everything up.'

Peggy looked at her daughter thoughtfully. ‘I read something somewhere – can't remember exactly how it goes: “Never regret anything you've done, because at one stage that was exactly what you wanted.” It's true. So don't regret or feel guilty about anything you've done so far. It's about turning your life around from this moment onwards. And we'll help if you need us.' Peggy reached across and picked up Paul's plate and held out her hand for Tessa's. ‘Come on, help me with these dishes then go and get a good night's sleep. Everything always seems better when the sun's up.'

I doubt things will look better for me
, thought Tessa. Her mother was just like all station people: no-nonsense, practical and couldn't see the point in dwelling on things that can't be fixed. Still, maybe home was a good place to be at the moment, even if it did mean doing the dishes.

Later that night as Tessa heard her father leave the house to turn off the generator, she went to the window and stared into the darkness. The eerie sound of the dingo's howl was still in her head and she wondered whether, if she swung her torch around outside again, she would see those evil eyes.

Chapter 11

Tessa picked up the phone and dialled Elsie's number. Her curiosity was piqued and she had wanted to call last night, but thought it may have been too late. Older people went to bed early, didn't they?

‘Hello?'

‘Um, hello . . .'

‘Ah, Tessa. You've finally called. I was beginning to wonder if you would.'

‘How did you know it was me?'

A chuckle sounded down the phone line. ‘Not too many young women ring me these days, dear,' Elsie answered. ‘You got the letter, then. Have you opened it?'

‘No. I'm dying to, though. I'm not sure why she's left it with you instead of just posting it to me.'

‘No, well, at the time I wasn't, either. But then, you didn't answer her last few letters and she was worried. Violet trusted me, completely and utterly. She knew I'd make you see reason.'

See reason
? Tessa decided to ignore that for a moment or two, since it didn't make any sense.

‘How did you meet Spider?'

‘We were kids together. The country was just opening up out there. It was the thirties and Dad had decided to try and find work in the west. We were taking the train across the Nullarbor and we stopped at a siding – I can't remember where it was. Might have been Jalinda or somewhere similar. We all got off to stretch our legs. You can imagine how difficult it was for kids to be cooped up in a small carriage. My brothers just about went mad. Poor old Mum, she'd exhausted her repertoire of games and stories by the end of the first day!

‘Dad got talking to Len Mathison. Now he would have been your great-uncle . . . Violet's oldest brother—'

‘I haven't heard of him,' Tessa interrupted.

‘He was sort of the black sheep of the family. Bit of a con man – oh, that makes him sound like he did things illegally. He didn't – he was a lovable rogue, could talk the birds out of the trees. Charming. Pushed the boundaries. And somehow he managed to convince a family man with three children and a wife to get off that train and go help him open up a stretch of land that was south of what's now the Eyre Highway.'

‘Danjar Plains,' Tessa murmured.

‘That's right. Even though Violet was much older than I, being the only two girls out there we seemed to just move together. Between Violet and my mother we always had lessons, reading and writing, but there were days when Violet didn't want to teach so she helped us sneak away instead. Such a wicked sense of humour! We rode horses, learned to cook over fires and muster sheep.'

‘How do I not know about Len?' Tessa wondered aloud.

‘Well, it was many years ago. Families seem to know of their immediate relatives but not so much about the brothers and sisters of their grandparents or great-grandparents. Not unless they're particularly interested in researching their family history.' Elsie paused. ‘Len was a hard worker when he was here. As were her other brothers. Violet's Uncle Sam and Aunty Margaret brought them out here, you know? They ended up loving it and stayed.'

‘Did she have many? Brothers, I mean. And where were her parents?'

‘Well, on the brother front, there was Len, Edward and George. She had an older sister, Grace. Then there was gorgeous Tom. They were already out here by the time I met Violet, so I don't know anything about her parents except what she told me, which was that her mother was pregnant again and not well enough to look after all the children. Things were tight in the city so she sent them to live on a farm with Margaret and Sam. Sam saw potential here and the rest is history. Anyway, Tessa, that's all by-the-by now. I'm sure you'll find out more about the family over the next little while.'

Elsie then took a breath. ‘In that letter are some instructions. It's not a will – she always said what was in that house went to whoever wanted it. So ask your family if they would like any of the furniture or books – I think there might be some early works by Henry Lawson and Banjo Paterson in the bookshelves somewhere. They might be worth quite a tidy amount, by gawd.'

‘How on earth would have she gotten those?'

‘Just because we lived in the wild west didn't mean we didn't have access to nice things. There were the Afghan cameleers, the Tea and Sugar Train – and we didn't know they were going to be first editions back then, did we? You've got to remember, we're quite old!'

Tessa was unable to control the laugh that slipped from her.

‘Now listen, child. I can't sugar-coat this. What Violet has asked you to do won't suit you. But it has to be you. There is no one else. Open the envelope while I'm on the phone.'