The Bark Cutters (12 page)

‘Cameron, let's go for a ride.'

‘Go by yourself, Sarah. You are, after all, old enough not to need an escort.' Sue's mouth flickered in a tight smile.

Cameron took a bite of his vegemite toast. ‘Do you need me, Dad?'

Sarah turned to her father, imploring him with an earnest gaze. On the opposite side of the kitchen, Sue folded her arms in annoyance. Her once smooth hands squeezed her forearms, rough and sun-spotted from years in the garden. Her parents had been arguing again. This time it had something to do with Bob Hawke beating Malcolm Fraser's Liberal Party. Her mother liked Bob, while her father was adamant that Labor wasn't interested in the bush. Across the grey and white splotches of the plastic tablecloth Cameron slurped his coffee. Sarah concentrated on her milky tea. She wanted to try to get some shots of the creek in the morning light. Maybe she should go alone.

‘You can both go,' Ronald said quietly, before turning the morning news up on the radio and pouring more tea.

‘Ronald?' Sue's voice rose in pitch. She placed a protective hand on her son's shoulder. Her look, sharp and aggressive, turned her pinched face red. Small veins flickered on her neck, her mouth opened slightly, beads of perspiration breaking out on her forehead. ‘It is quite obvious he's overtired.'

Cameron rolled his eyes and Sarah tried not to giggle. It was the only defence they had against their mother's increasingly weird behaviour.

‘I don't want my son out.' Sue picked up a cup and, with a look of superiority, let it drop from her hands. It shattered as it hit the floor. Cameron and Sarah looked from the white shards on the black and white vinyl back to their mother, their mouths agape.

‘Sue, please. As much as you would like to think he is still a boy, he's a grown lad. If he has time to take Sarah for a ride, well, that's up to him.' Ronald spoke evenly. ‘Maybe Anthony would like to go along,' he added to his two stunned children.

Sarah nodded in his direction, admiring the control in her father's voice.

‘There's no need for the jackeroo to be included in everything. In fact I've been thinking Sarah should spend the remainder of her school year in Sydney. The HSC is less than two months away. We could both go. I'll speak to Angus about moving into the apartment down there.'

‘But there are tenants living there, Mum,' Sarah quickly objected.

‘Sarah has a point, Sue. You can't exactly evict them,' Ronald added with a hint of weary impatience.

‘Can't I?' Sue challenged everyone at the table with raised eyebrows and a mouth that looked like a heart monitor gone flat. ‘You've had enough correspondence lessons, my girl. Time to learn some discipline.'

‘Forget it, Mother, I'm not going.' Sarah pushed her chair back abruptly, sending it crashing to the kitchen floor.

‘You come back here, young lady.'

Pulling on her riding-boots Sarah rushed out the back door. Behind her she could hear Cameron calling out, telling her to wait, but she kept on walking towards the stables. She couldn't do it. She wouldn't leave Wangallon, especially if her mother was going with her.

Anthony watched Sarah and Cameron as they trotted off in the direction of the creek. Once they reached the tree line they would disappear from sight as they wound their way through the sand ridge. He wished he was with them. Instead he was on his way into town to collect some parts for the John Deere tractor. Unfortunately his knuckles were about to knock at the back door when the argument started and by the time Mrs Gordon had finished relegating him to working-class status, he had retreated to his vehicle. Sue Gordon was a moody woman all right; one day all smiles and compliments, the next going off at the slightest thing.

He had heard the rumours, of course. Sue had been a real sort when she and Ronald first married; all legs and teeth, with a fondness for Vodka martinis and red lipstick. It did not seem to be the type of description you would expect of a woman who lived out in the North West, but she was still here. The publican talked of a bout of severe depression, followed by hospitalisation, followed by Sarah's birth. Yet the real eye-opener was the quietly held belief that Sue had an affair with a wool-buyer, which Anthony thought pretty much accounted for Ronald and Sue's prickly relationship.

Anthony looked out the window of the utility at the countryside spinning past him. His family owned a pretty nice property,
but as the youngest brother he knew his inheritance would come in the form of a small amount of money, not land and it was unlikely he would ever have enough to buy his own property. His best option was to ensure he became indispensable at Wangallon, for he doubted if he would ever get a better job. If he hung on long enough, said yes to everything, he had a good chance of becoming a long-term employee. The problem was Sarah. He liked her, a lot, but he hadn't been on the place long enough to risk everything he was working towards by asking her out on a date. ‘Idiot,' he said aloud. He was getting a bit ahead of himself. Still, sometimes he just couldn't help himself. Sarah was like a roast dinner, a cold beer and the sound of rain on a corrugated iron roof all at once. Would it really hurt if he asked her out? He thought of the jump she'd taken on Oscar only yesterday; a five-foot hurdle she'd rigged with a fallen tree branch and two forty-four gallon drums. She had cleared it effortlessly.

The air was cold, Cameron's horse flighty. As they wound their way through the sand ridge, disturbing rabbits, lizards and the odd fox, the large gelding snorted and started to pig-root in a half-hearted manner. Cameron laughed at the animal's attempts to dislodge him. Gathering his reins, he forced his mount into a gallop, swishing his battered hat behind him as he went.

Sarah followed at a fast trot. She glanced ahead to where her brother galloped and increased her own pace. Finally the dust settled as her brother slowed his mount, patting his horse's neck. They rode side by side, moving easily through the long grass, Cameron whistling.

‘They can't make you go, Sarah.'

‘Geez! Can you imagine me living with Mum in a small apartment?'

Cameron grinned. ‘I've got to admit it could be messy.'

‘Messy? She doesn't really like me, you know,' Sarah admitted.

‘She does care. Mum is just one of those people who woke up one morning, decided they didn't like their life, and concentrated on being in a bad mood for the rest of it.'

Sure, Sarah thought. It was the day I was born. She flicked at a passing blowfly.

‘I'll make sure they don't send you away, sis. Things just wouldn't be the same without you.' The last thing Cameron wanted was to be left holding the reins of the property. Being wholly responsible for the machine that was Wangallon scared the crap out of him. ‘Besides, you've got too many reasons to stay, and Anthony is one of them.'

Sarah sighed. She had put up with her brother's good-natured taunts regarding Anthony for over a year now.

‘It would just be beaut if you two got together. Imagine the three of us working together.'

It was one of Cameron's many plans for the future, Sarah knew that, but Anthony hadn't even asked her out on a date yet. In fact, since the night at the stables and the innuendo at the sheep yards, he had barely been around.

‘I saw Blaze today. He's looking good.'

‘Yeah, I gave Charlotte some extra oats last night,' Sarah added, grateful for the distraction.

Charlotte had given birth to a fine colt. Upon sight of the small foal balancing precariously on wobbly legs, Cameron had named him Blaze. Not very original, he had admitted to Anthony's jibes, but appropriate, considering the large white patch on the small muzzle.

‘I'm looking forward to the day when I can ride him. You know, teach him to be easy with a rifle fired from the saddle when I chase pigs, get him used to roping, hell, maybe he'll even be a fine camp drafter.'

They broke their horses into a trot. They were out in the start of the swamp country, where a large paddock held a twisting river in one corner.

‘Time to turn back, sis. Gotta be back to move the stud rams before lunch.'

‘We can keep heading this way and take the short cut through the scrubby paddock,' Sarah insisted, trying to delay the inevitable return home. The sooner they got home the sooner Sarah would have to face her mother. She dreaded the thought of another argument.

‘Okay. No harm in giving the folks a bit of extra time to cool down.'

‘Thanks.' She smiled at Cameron. He was a pretty good brother when he wanted to be.

Sarah trailed behind Cameron as he turned towards home. She watched his lean form in front of her, the way he swayed ever so slightly with the gait of his mount, her mind formulating a plan. Hopefully Cameron would be able to change their mother's mind. A little of the fear gripping her heart loosened and a sigh escaped from her lips.

Kangaroos bounced off into the scrub and foxes sniffed the wind on the rough track ahead, before catching their scent and racing away. They moved carefully, peering at the clumps of grass concealing rugged holes that could be traps for hooves. Rising quickly, the sun flashed off tall blades of grass. Sarah squinted against the glare, sweat gathering in the creases of her soft skin. It was going to be a hot one today. Easing back into the saddle, she concentrated on eradicating the tension from her neck and back. Maybe it was time to confront her mother. Maybe she could move in with her grandfather. She and Cameron had to assert themselves a bit. They were old enough not to be bossed around. ‘I'm going to go overseas when I finish school. Want to come?'

Cameron dismounted, checking the girth on his saddle before springing lightly onto his horse's back. ‘Absolutely.'

‘Excellent,' Sarah called out, drawing level with him and taking some close-up photos of him and his horse.

‘A couple of months would do me fine. Let's go to the Highlands, see where the Gordons came from.' He held his hat to his chest. ‘Oh, fanciful Scotland, land of burns, rivers and lochs! Mist-shrouded stones of hill and moorland.'

‘When we come back everyone will have missed us,' Sarah enthused.

‘I reckon we'll miss Wangallon more.' Turning his horse, he trotted ahead of Sarah through a clump of young belah trees, the denseness of the woody plants scrapping at his arms and legs.

Sarah screamed. Cameron's horse, having shied at something in the long grass, took off at a gallop; suddenly the animal stumbled, and Cameron flew out of the saddle. Sarah watched in horror as his right foot caught in the stirrup and he hit the ground hard, his body bouncing fiercely. Burying the heels of her boots into the flanks of her horse, she raced after him. She followed the runaway horse through the dense belah, losing sight of Cameron's trailing body as she passed through the thickest point, then she was out the other side, her own horse stumbling in the rough terrain.

Ahead she could see Cameron trying to turn, trying to keep his face free of the rushing, tearing ground. His hands were scrambling uselessly at the thick grass covering the hard cushion of earth. As she gained on the fleeing animal, she hoped she would be strong enough to grab the reins. She concentrated on willing her horse to go faster. She needed to overtake Cameron's horse. There was nothing else she could do, short of waiting for
Cameron's mount to slow down, but Cameron continued to be dragged over the ground at a horrifying speed.