Silver Clouds (34 page)

The change of tack threw Tessa.

‘Look, I overheard your father at the Muster. I know you seem to think Spider had something of yours, or something on you. But I've turned this place upside down and apparently you have too.' She cut off Brendan's protest. ‘I heard the click of the writing desk on the night you stayed over, Brendan. Believe it or not, I'm far from an idiot. I have no doubt you've been with me so you can get your hands on whatever it is, but it's not here. There's nothing here about you or your family. I don't know what activities outside of station work you're involved in, but the fact that I haven't found anything should make you happy, shouldn't it? Cos I'm guessing whatever you're doing isn't good. Now leave.'

‘She said it was a crate of things,' he whined.

‘There isn't. Leave.'

He took a step towards the ute. Tessa's hand shot up. She was still holding the microphone. She waved it at him. ‘Leave before I call Dad.'

Brendan stood for a moment, undecided, then swore and moved towards his ute. ‘We were good together,' he said once more.

‘That may be so, but I'm better without you.'

‘You reckon you'll be better off with Harrison? You want to be mum to a kid and not be free? And you'd better understand, we know what you both did to the drugs.' He sounded threatening.

Fear crept into her stomach. ‘Is this to do with Joe? What are you saying?'

‘You're so clever, you work it out. Bitch.'

Tessa waited until the dust in the distance had faded. When she was sure Brendan wasn't coming back she got out of the ute and ran inside. She looked around to see if anything had been disturbed. She couldn't be sure, but she thought the diaries might have been moved, and she was convinced the letters had been riffled through and read because they were spread across the table.

Brendan had also tracked in dust with his boots and left a trail across the floor.

Bastard!

Big bloody help Dozer was. Worst watchdog ever. She spun around the lounge room, trying to see what else might be out of place, then went from room to room.

In the bedroom Harrison's distinctive blue sparkly hat was still on the chair. That explained how Brendan knew he'd been ousted from her affections, she thought.

She tried to control her breathing as she went into the kitchen and switched on the kettle. Well there was nothing she could do about it. All she could hope was that he didn't come back.

‘Fat lot of good you are,' she said to Dozer as he limped into the room and flopped on the floor. ‘One, you wouldn't hear him arrive, and two, you're too friendly!'

Dozer huffed as if he were offended, and got up and went off to sleep in the sun.

Tessa decided she would tidy everything up and stow things somewhere more secure. If Brendan did return, she wanted things safe.

Heaving out the tucker box, she packed away the letters and diaries in date order, shut it and pushed it back underneath the bottom shelf in the pantry. If she hadn't found it while she was clearing out the house, she didn't think anyone else would.

Maybe now it was time to go through all the books in the lounge. She could pack them into cardboard boxes, and when she went to Kalgoorlie next, she would take what they didn't want to the second-hand shop. She must stay busy.

One by one, she pulled them out, and was excited to see some of her old favourites.
What Katy Did
and
What Katy Did Next
went on the ‘keeping' pile: Tessa would never forget Aunty Spider reading to her from the red-covered books. She hadn't been allowed to touch them, because they were 1924 editions. Oh, how Tessa had loved those stories. She wondered if Cally would like to read them.

There were books on land management and sheep husbandry – they went on the ‘Dad, maybe' pile. And then there were novels that held no meaning for Tessa – they were the ones she would give away.

Before she packed a box, she flicked through the pages of each book to make sure there was nothing in it. Then, one by one, she stacked them neatly inside.

She picked up an old faded edition of
The Washer Woman's Dream
by Hilarie Lindsay. As she grabbed it, she noticed it felt different to the other books. She turned it over and read the back. It sounded interesting, a story about Winifred, an Australian white woman who met Ali, an Indian Muslim while she was working at a bar.

Tessa opened the book and began to read, searching for the part about the camel train. Was this Grace? Or was this what her life was like? When she came to chapter seventeen, she realised that some pages were missing. Someone, no guesses who, had cut the text from the pages but left the margins. And nestled within the pages was a folded piece of paper.

Reverently, Tessa took it out and opened it.

At the top of the page were two words: ‘Grace's Story'.

Chapter 34

The camels walked slowly, raising little dust.
One step, next one, next one, next one. The same steady pace that they began at first light was the same one they finished with in the evening.

A man walked next to the leader's shoulder.
Sometimes he would talk to him but, for the most part, it was a silent trip. Other men were employed on the camel train: some rode the beasts while the rest walked alongside. The camels were heavily loaded with not an inch to spare, covered in bedrolls, boxes and goods that were piled to twice the animals' width.

Water bags hung around their necks and a thick rope linked one camel to the next, keeping them in a line. One step, two, they each followed their leader.

The man at the front was dark-skinned with kind brown eyes. He was quick to smile and had a gentleness about him that drew the customer in. Even though he couldn't speak English particularly well, he was always able to make himself understood.

All the men wore turbans and traditional Afghan clothes, which seemed to flow freely and let the air circulate.

The first time we saw these camel trains, we stopped and watched in awe. The camels seemed to haul such heavy weights effortlessly.
And I can still remember the first time they carted out wool for us. Each animal was loaded with great bales, two on each side. It was incredible. Uncle Sam told me that each camel could carry almost six hundred pounds on its back.

The nose pegs fascinated me as well. Just a gentle tug and the animal would go in whatever direction Ali wanted.

They seemed to love him and he loved them. Even though, when I got closer to them, I found the camels (especially the bulls) could snarl and spit and try to bite. But it was only when they were upset or didn't want to do something Ali had asked of them. They were stubborn, and there were times he had to tug harder or remonstrate with them. In the end, he always got them to do what he wanted, even
if they were disgruntled and you'd be able to see they were! Camels are such expressive creatures!

I'm not sure how Ali and I fell in love. We talked a lot – I helped him with his English, especially with the slang we Australians use.
He would come to the camp at night and ask if I would like to go for a walk. Of course, Uncle Sam wasn't pleased to begin with, but I think he knew how lonely and harsh I found the Nullarbor and, no matter what, he loved all of us. His main desire was for us to be happy.
I'm sure he realised I'd found that happiness.

Ali had to keep travelling and he never stayed long at Danjar Plains. His camel train was full of supplies to keep all of the settlers going. He carted tea, flour, rice and even clothes. He also had a box full of books that kept me entertained during the nights. It was like an Aladdin's cave on the back of those camels – you just never knew what was going to come out next!

The third time he came, he asked if I would travel with him. Of course, it was such a huge request – so many different problems to weigh up. But I didn't see any of them. My head had been full of this man since our first walk out in the bush, when he so gently took my hand and held it to his lips. He brought posies of wildflowers whenever he arrived
and always left a little treat for the rest of the family – maybe an extra length of calico or a pound of flour.

Ali wove his way into all of our hearts.

Aunty Margaret was concerned about the backlash from the rest of the whites out here. I couldn't have cared less. So long as I was with this man, I knew I would be happy.

So I left Danjar Plains. Of course, we were never able to marry because of his religion.
We never wore the rings he bought because of that. But we knew we had them as our symbol of marriage.

We travelled to Norseman and up to Kalgoorlie. On the way we saw many sights.
Even though there were large distances between the settlements, they were bustling hives of activity. People were building dams and fences. There were wood cutters as we came closer to Kalgoorlie. And camels seemed to be the most popular choice of transport.

Ali told me that proper cameleers walked alongside their camels and didn't ride them.
So I walked too. Not alongside him, but further back.

In early 1931 I realised I was with child. I can't tell you how excited I was, but I did ask Ali if we could return to Danjar Plains for the birth. It took some time, but I managed to convince him.

I was barely showing when we began the trek home. I was excited at the prospect of seeing familiar country and even more excited to be seeing my family.

The night before we arrived home, we stopped at a near-empty water hole. As usual, we set up camp, unloaded the animals and tethered them. I prepared the evening meal while Ali and the other men did their jobs.

There was another camp of men within hearing distance. They were obviously white because I could hear their loud and raucous voices – it sounded like they had been drinking whisky.

I saw their camp as I was trying to find a private spot to bathe. And they saw me.

I can still feel their hands on me and smell their foul breath. I fought as hard as I could.
I tried to call for Ali because he would have saved me if he could have. They pinned my hands down, and as hard as I tried to kick, they dodged and laughed. I heard as they unbuckled their belts and, at that point, I stayed still. I couldn't fight in case I hurt the child within me, a child that was conceived in love.

These men knew of me – I heard them say they had seen Ali's camel train. ‘Us whites not good enough for you, ay?' they jeered. ‘We'll show you how good we can be.'

They laughed and talked the whole time and when the three of them had finished, they just walked off.

I couldn't tell anyone. Imagine the disgrace.
Just so long as my baby was all right and I could get back to Ali.

Bruises I kept hidden under long skirts – they were clever enough not to touch my face.

But from the moment I arrived at Danjar Plains, I cried. I sobbed and sobbed. Aunty Margaret and Violet had such kind arms and very slowly I told them what had happened, making them promise not to tell Ali. He wouldn't want me after that.

But they must have told Uncle Sam and my brothers.

I read a newspaper article, later. Three men had been found slaughtered in their camp.
Their throats had been cut.

The police searched for the murderers, but they hadn't been found.

Chapter 35

‘So have I got it all right?' Tessa asked Elsie on the other end of the line. ‘Grace lived and travelled with Ali and she was raped on their way back to Danjar Plains to give birth to a baby. She wasn't just raped – she was pack-raped.' Tessa took a steadying breath. ‘Ali never knew but Sam, Len, Edward and George went and found the men and murdered them.' Tessa paced the floor as she talked, stopping only to look at the photos of Tom on the wall.

‘Grace gave birth to not one baby, but twins. The first delivered was stillborn, and Grace had so much trouble getting Tom out, she died, too. That's not just a family secret, it's a friggin' massacre!'

Down the line, Elsie's voice was clear. ‘I didn't know about the murders or the rape, Tessa. Although, in hindsight, the killings make sense. The diaries Violet sent to me for safekeeping obviously had incriminating things written in them.'

‘There wasn't anything obvious from what I've read,' Tessa answered. ‘But of course I didn't know the story.'

‘I imagine Violet wouldn't have known about the murders until after the fact. It sounds like Len's hotheadedness to me, and egging the other boys on. I'm almost positive Sam wouldn't have had anything to do with it. But Len? He was a charmer and a hothead all in one.'

‘Sounds like Brendan,' Tessa said.

‘Yes, well, I believe there are some similarities,' Elsie chuckled. ‘Violet bet me fifty dollars you'd hook up with Brendan when you first came back. “She won't be able to resist his charms,” she said. It's a bugger she's not here for me to pay up!'

‘Are you serious? I sometimes think that woman had a crystal ball.'

‘You wouldn't be far wrong there.'

‘Did she also guess I'd end up with Harrison?' Tessa heard a swift intake of breath. She giggled. ‘What? Have I shocked you? After all this time, something has shocked you, Elsie?'

‘No, dear, not at all. I'd just love it if she were here now. It was her dearest wish that you and Harrison would be together. She swore to me he would help you heal and you would help heal him. Oh, Tessa, it's great news!' Elsie gave a little sniffle. ‘Now, promise me, you will invite me to the wedding. Please.'

‘Oh hell. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. We're taking things really slowly.'

‘Piffle! No point in taking it slowly. Get married and work it out from there.'