Return to Rosalee Station, page 17
Totally engrossed in the passing scenery, the next half an hour passed for her in the blink of an eye. Just outside of Atherton, the roadworks that had been going on for the past five months, and looking as if work hadn’t progressed since the last time she came through here, stopped Sarah in her tracks. Drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, she groaned as she waited for the bored looking bloke to turn the Stop sign around. On one side of her a potato farm stretched into the distance and on the other were rows of sugar cane topped with pretty pink flowers that reminded her of fairy floss. The minutes ticked on and she started to get fidgety. Duke whined. Chilli scratched at the floor of her cage. Without a breeze being whipped around the cab now they were stationary she could smell whatever Duke had rolled in as if it were right under her nose. Glancing up at the rear-view mirror, she watched Victory shifting about in the float. Another godawful advertisement came over the radio, announcing the closing-down sale of the rug shop that had been closing down for the past three years. Did they ever play songs anymore? It was the fifth or sixth advertisement in a row. She stabbed her finger on the radio’s control button, cutting off the presenter’s annoyingly shrill voice. Just as she was about to reach for her CD binder, the bloke holding the Stop sign responded to someone on his walkie-talkie. Nodding, he flipped the sign from Stop to Drive Slowly like it was the most amazing thing to do, smiled broadly, and then waved her forwards and into the opposite lane. She said a quick g’day in passing, and liked the fact he responded. It didn’t take much to be courteous.
A few kilometres down the highway stormy darkness quickly descended. The sky boomed and crackled, as if splitting down the middle, and within seconds it opened up and heavy raindrops hammered the roof of the four-wheel drive. She quickly wound her window up, at the same time stealing a sideways glance at Duke. He was still hanging out the window, blinking fast, the water pummelling his face while he tried to lick the raindrops from the air. She shook her head, grinning at the sight of him. Her animals gave so much pleasure. Needing to wind his window up before he got completely drenched and poor Chilli found herself swimming in her cage, Sarah pulled over to the side of the road. Leaning across the seat, at the same time trying to avoid Duke’s slobbery kisses while holding her breath, she sighed with relief when the window finally screeched to the top. Straightening, she used the pit stop to pop one of her favourite CDs of all time into the stereo – Trio with Linda Ronstadt, Dolly Parton and Emmylou Harris. Give her seventies music and good old-fashioned country like Johnny and Waylon and these three legendary artists over the new stuff any day. There was something to be said for the lyrics in the old-time country, the songs filled with love and heartache and more love, whereas most of the new stuff was all about tractors and whiskey and women.
Flicking the widescreen wipers to warp speed, she waited for a road train filled with cattle to pass, while wishing she could stick her head out the window to breathe in the scent most people disliked before she pulled back onto the highway. The road wet and slippery, she drove cautiously, and with towing Victory’s float she wasn’t taking any chances. There wasn’t a fire, they had nowhere to be at a given time – they were in no rush. Smell the roses. Humming away to ‘Silver Threads and Golden Needles’, she watched raindrops slide down the windscreen and blow away in the wind. Soon the deluge was so heavy she was having trouble seeing a metre in front of her. Tropical North Queensland – sunny one minute and bucketing down the next. This was monsoonal weather at its finest. The scent of rain was heavy as it filtered through the air-conditioning vent, as too was Duke’s pong and the unmistakable smell of chicken poop. Oh the joys of country life, she thought happily.
To see through the rain she clutched the steering wheel and leant forward like an eighty-year-old when a memory claimed her mind. A wayward smile tugged at her lips as she remembered the very first time she’d hit a patch of bull dust on her way out to Rosalee Station for her cook’s job. In a panic, she’d gone to slam on the brakes, but thankfully, Daniel had been in the car and he’d talked her through it. It had been one of many lessons she’d learnt about the treacheries of outback Australia. With the most venomous snakes in the world, remorseless flies that put the city flies to shame, min-min lights, and kangaroos that would beat a world-champion fighter in a boxing match, it wasn’t a place for the faint of heart. And she’d proudly proven to Matt and his parents that she was cut out for the dusty old country within a week of getting there as an eager twenty-three-year-old. It was only eight years gone, but it felt like a lifetime ago. Her mind then turned to Matt and to how they fell in love that mustering season – it had been such a sweet journey. They’d had many obstacles, but they’d climbed and battled every one of them to be together, and now here they were, unable to be under the same roof. So very sad, how things had worked out. She wondered how he was doing, and if he missed her. It felt so strange, going a day without seeing him. Would this be something she’d have to get used to? She really didn’t want to give much thought to that right now.
The windscreen was fogging up, so she alternated the air to come up the dash vents. ‘Far out, you’re doing some heavy breathing over there, buddy, because it sure as hell ain’t Chilli.’
Resting his head on the top of the pet crate, Duke eyed her dotingly.
‘Awww, love you too, buddy.’ His pong assaulting her nostrils, Sarah clamped them shut with her fingers. ‘But I am not liking that stink. Cor, Dukey boy, you’re in desperate need of a bath.’
Pulling the forest-scented air freshener from the door pocket, she squirted it left, right and centre. Hating anything that smelt half decent, Duke wiggled down to the floor and put his paws over his head.
Listening to the intermittent thump of the windshield wipers, Sarah turned the stereo up, the country love song a favourite. And then, thankfully, as quickly as the downpour had arrived, the clouds began to disperse and rays of sunshine shot through the gaps like golden spears.
Passing the drive-in, and then the sign that read ‘Welcome to Mareeba 300 sunny days a year’, she wound her window down and took a much-needed deep breath. She loved the scent of wet leaves and damp earth; something about it was so invigorating.
Duke jumped back up on his seat and pawed at the window.
‘Sorry, buddy, but there’s nowhere for me to pull over here. You can just wait until we get to Mum and Dad’s now.’
Passing the laundromat that also housed the local Thai takeaway, followed by the top pub, the middle pub and the bottom pub, then a servo and one of the two newsagencies, she felt a sense of familiarity catch hold of her heart. Without a set of traffic lights in sight and only roundabouts to keep the traffic flowing, this was the epitome of country-town driving. And then they were out the other side of town and on the home stretch. Butterflies flurried in her belly. It had been a long time coming, visiting her family and the farm. Crossing the railway tracks that marked the outskirts of town, only used in the sugarcane season, she felt something deep inside of her ease a little. She was almost home, almost back to the people who loved her unconditionally. Normal people. Well, as normal as her family could get, she thought with a playful smile.
Her mobile phone buzzed from the dash, and she tossed it into her lap, pressing the speaker button. ‘Hey, Mum.’
‘Hi, love, how’s the drive over going?’
‘Yeah, good, I’m not far off.’ She glanced out her window at the rodeo grounds, many happy memories flooding her in an instant. Only a week to go and the sleeping giant would be flooded with show rides, saddle-bronc horses and bucking bulls, fairy floss and dagwood dogs, and cowgirls and cowboys – it was the event of the year for Mareeba.
‘Whereabouts are you?’
‘I’m about to turn down Brookes Road.’
‘Oh, wonderful, I’ll pop the kettle on then, and I’ve made your favourite.’
‘Lemon meringue pie?’
‘Yup.’
‘Oh, Mum, you’re the bloody best, I tell ya.’
‘Yes, I am, and don’t you forget it.’
Sarah chuckled. ‘I don’t think you’d ever let me.’
‘You sound more and more like your father every day.’
‘Oi,’ Jack Clarke piped up in the background.
Sarah laughed, her parents’ banter was a given, and she loved listening to them as much as they loved winding each other up. ‘See you both in a jiffy.’
Turning off the rain-slicked highway, she headed down the familiar dirt road, barely wider than the four-wheel drive and horse float, slowing at each corner to look for oncoming traffic. Courtesy was the way of the road here. The driver of the bigger and more bush worthy vehicle, one more capable of ploughing through the anthills and potholes that were common round these parts, was always the one to move over to let the oncoming car pass. Duke jumped around like a frog in a sock on the passenger seat, whining excitedly, reflecting how Sarah felt.
The nets that kept the fruit trees safe from the bats and birds came into view, and then Sarah saw the family’s two-storey Queenslander, the recent paint job on the weatherboards not taking away from the old charm of the place. She slowed and pulled into the drive. The big verandahs that wrapped around the house were, as always, filled with pots of flowering plants, thanks to her mum’s amazing green thumb. She couldn’t help but smile as she admired the mango-wood sign she and her brothers had bought her dad eight years ago that read ‘Clarkes’ Farm’, and just beyond it, settled among a flourish of blooming rose bushes, was the little windmill her best mate, Lily, had given her parents ten years back. She hadn’t even switched the ignition off when her mum and dad appeared, Jack with his customary wild hair and Maggie with her floral apron tied to her wide hips.
‘Mum, Dad,’ Sarah squealed as she all but jumped from the four-wheel drive and fell into her mum’s open arms.
‘Oh, my beautiful girl, it’s so good to see you.’ Maggie tightened her hold.
Jack stood patiently behind, and when they untangled, he pulled Sarah into a big bear hug. ‘Hey, love, it’s so good to see you.’ He kissed her forehead, like he had since she was a young child. ‘And I see you brought the beast for a bit of a wander.’
‘Of course I brought Duke, and the horse, oh, and a chicken.’ She grinned.
On cue, Duke leapt from the driver’s side, his tail going like the clappers and his bum swaying in time with it. He skidded to their feet, doggy grinning, and baring his teeth so it almost looked like he was snarling.
‘Hey, Dukey.’ Jack gave him a quick pat. ‘No, love, I meant Dad’s four-wheel drive.’
‘Ahhh, yup, thought she needed a bit of the dust cleared from the old exhaust pipes.’ She glanced to the heavens. ‘Grandad will be proud the old girl’s still hitting the dusty tracks.’
‘He will be, God love him.’ Jack smiled. ‘She goes well still?’
‘She sure does … never skips a beat.’
Maggie knelt down and went to give Duke a cuddle, but quickly stood up again, patting his head instead. ‘Good Lord, you stink to high heavens.’
‘Yeah, sorry, Mum, he’s in desperate need of a wash down.’
Maggie chuckled. ‘I reckon he’s in more need of a spray with a high-pressure hose by the smell of things.’ Hands on hips, she tutted at him. ‘What the hell have you been rolling in? I’ll get a bar of soap onto you later, boy, before you step foot in the house.’
‘Ha-ha, good luck with that, Mum, you know how much he hates being washed.’
‘Trust me when I say your mother will pin him down if need be … she won’t let him in the house stinking like that. She bloody well hoses me down before I step through the door if I’m too smelly and grotty.’ Jack gave his wife a playful sideways glance.
‘Oh rubbish, I do not, you old pot stirrer, you.’ Maggie slapped him gently on the arm in fun. ‘I reckon I might buy you a wooden spoon next Christmas.’
‘Oh come on, darl, you love it.’ Jack chuckled and brushed a kiss over Maggie’s cheek. ‘I’ll go and get Victory settled in his paddock, Sarah, while you and your mum catch up, if you like.’
Sarah nodded, knowing full well it was her dad’s cryptic way of saying, ‘I’m going to leave you two women to it and I’ll be back once things have quietened down a bit and I can get a word in edgeways.’ She watched him go over to the float and check on Victory. ‘Chilli’s on the front seat, Dad. She’s pretty social but maybe shut her in the chook pen for now, so she can settle in, and we’ll let her out to forage tomorrow. I’ll get all my stuff out later.’
Jack gave her the thumbs up. ‘Sounds like a plan, Stan.’ He gestured to Duke to join him and the overexcited pooch didn’t need any more of an invitation. ‘You better come with me, buddy, because there’ll be no going inside for you just yet.’
Maggie put her arm around Sarah’s waist and gave her a gentle squeeze. ‘Come on inside then, love, we’ve got some catching up to do … and some lemon meringue pie to eat.’
Smiling from the inside out, Sarah slid her arm around her mum’s shoulder, feeling stronger just by being near her. ‘We sure do.’
Cookie, the kookaburra, laughed from his perch on one of the clothesline’s posts – a pet, of sorts, Cookie had been a part of the Clarke family for twelve years now. Beside him sat a female kookaburra and two babies. In her turmoil of the past year, Sarah had forgotten all about him. ‘Oh my god, Cookie, you devil. You’ve gone and got yourself a little family.’ Cookie eyeballed her and then laughed again. The bowl her mum always used to put mince in for him was empty and upended on the ground.
Once in the kitchen, Maggie pulled the most decadent looking lemon meringue from the fridge. ‘Tah-dah.’
Sarah’s mouth watered instantly. ‘Oh wow, Mum, that looks amazing.’
Placing it on the table, beside a little jug of cream, Maggie grinned. ‘I think it’s one of my best yet.’
‘Only tasting it will tell us that.’
Sarah flinched when she felt the electric jug and it was red-hot. Her mother wasn’t beating around the bush when she said she would put the kettle on. ‘Should I make enough tea for Dad too?’
‘Probably not … it’ll be cold by the time he gets back. Lord knows what that man does, but a job that should take half an hour tends to take him hours. He’s a side-tracker if I’ve ever seen one.’ Maggie rolled her eyes to the heavens.
Sarah chuckled as she recalled how long it used to take her dad to fix anything in the house – outside was a different story. ‘You got that right, Mum.’ Picking up the teapot that matched the cups that were already set out on the dining table, alongside the good china plates, Sarah felt very special. She put in two heaped teaspoons of tea-leaves and then poured the hot water in. Job done, both women got themselves comfortable at the table.
‘So, love, tell me, how are you coping?’
Her mother’s eyes were so kind, so compassionate, Sarah had to choke back a sob. ‘I’m managing, and pushing through day by day, because that’s what I have to do.’ She shrugged. ‘If I want to have any kind of life, what other choice do I have but to soldier on and hope for the best?’
‘Very true, but make sure you allow yourself time to get to the bottom of how you’re feeling too, won’t you? This time apart is very important for you and Matt.’
‘I will, which is why, as well as wanting to see all you guys of course, I’ve come over for a couple of weeks. I need time to stop and find myself again.’
Placing her hand over her daughter’s, Maggie sniffled. ‘I’m sorry you’re going through all this, love. I wish there was something your father and I could do to make things better.’
‘Just by being here for me makes things better, Mum.’ Needing to do something, anything but stare into her mother’s soulful eyes, Sarah picked up the teapot and started pouring. She didn’t want to wallow in self-pity; instead she wanted to try to focus on the good things. ‘I admire you and Dad, sticking together and still being so in love after all these years.’
Maggie put a teaspoon of sugar in her tea. ‘Thanks, love, but trust me when I say it hasn’t always been smooth sailing for your father and me.’
‘It hasn’t?’
‘No, far from it actually.’ Picking up the knife, Maggie started slicing the pie. ‘Like you and Matt, we’ve had our fair share of struggles in our marriage over the years.’ She passed a piece to Sarah, who was holding out her plate in eager readiness.
‘You have?’ Unable to hold off any longer, Sarah picked up her fork and took a mouthful. Her eyes almost rolled back in her head in culinary pleasure.
‘We’re only human, your dad and I, and I look at a marriage as always being a work in progress,’ Maggie said.
‘That’s a really good way to look at it,’ Sarah mumbled through another delicious mouthful.
‘I like to say that when the going gets tough, we don’t get going … unlike too many young people these days. I truly believe that if you stick it out, most of the time you will work it out and live a happy life … apart from the few times when you may want to poke your better half with a fork.’
Sarah chuckled. Wiping her mouth with a paper napkin, she considered having another piece, but thought she’d sit on her tea for now.
As though measuring her words, Maggie paused, then said, ‘I want to let you in on a little secret, and only because it might help you feel a bit better about what you’re going through.’
‘Okay, go on …’ Completely intrigued, Sarah cradled her cup and sat back. ‘I’m all ears.’
‘Your father and I have been through a trial separation too.’
