Queen of the Road (6 page)

Coop dragged himself out from under the seeder and rose to his feet. Slowly he rubbed each elbow and ran his eyes over the piece of machinery. Over several weeks he’d been carefully bringing the seeder back to life, and now he just needed one last part and it should work fine.

He thought of Alice and how much he wanted to show her the results of his labour. It had been her idea to resurrect the seeder once she discovered he had the skills. Sadly, she wouldn’t be checking it out for a while now. Her cousin Mary said she was doing okay, but she was still facing more treatment.

Jilly nudged his leg. Coop reached down to ruffle the dog’s ears and glanced up at the sky. No sign of the rain Alice was sure would fall early this year. Apart from a murky haze on the horizon, there wasn’t a cloud to be seen. And looking back over Alice’s carefully kept records, the district had seen little rain for the last thirteen years. Coop knew she was a good farmer, but he didn’t understand
where her prediction came from. None of the other locals shared her optimism.

Still, he’d fixed the seeder as she’d asked. The old machine had been kept to do small touch-up jobs, but hadn’t been used for several years now. A neighbour was always contracted to do her seeding, but Alice was anticipating that they’d all be too busy once it rained, and she wanted Coop to start the working up. She’d also been researching the planting of lucerne as a long-term pasture and was keen to give it a go over the winter.

Fixing the seeder had given Coop a project to work on when he wasn’t checking sheep and mending fences. Farming out here at this time of the year was a waiting game. Wherever you went people were casting searching eyes at the sky, even if there was no indication that this year was going to be any wetter than the last.

Jilly lifted her head and looked back towards the house. Then she stepped forward and gave a sharp bark. Coop noticed a trail of dust rising along the track from the road to the house. The sun glinted off a vehicle before finally he heard its motor.

‘Who’s this, Jilly?’

The whole district knew Alice wasn’t home and he wasn’t expecting anyone. He flexed his shoulders and brushed the dirt and gravel from his back. He arrived at the house yard at the same time as a black BMW.

Slowly the tinted window slid down and revealed the face of the suit guy from the pub.

‘Hello, you’re Coop, aren’t you?’

‘That’s right.’

‘It’s good to see a familiar face.’

‘What can I do for you, Jeremy?’

Jeremy opened his door, put one highly polished boot on the ground then quickly pulled it back as Jilly let out a low growl.

‘Sit, Jilly,’ Coop commanded, trying to contain his smile as Jeremy eased himself from the car, glancing from Coop to his dog.

‘I’m not a dog person,’ Jeremy said. ‘People say they can sense that.’

‘She’s wary of strangers.’ Coop rubbed the dog’s head. ‘At ease, Jilly. I don’t think Jeremy’s going to give us any trouble.’

Jeremy pulled his lips into a smile and shoved his hand forward to shake Coop’s.

‘I think I’m lost. I’ve been driving around for an hour looking for the Camerons’ place.’

‘Well, this property runs nearly to their back door,’ Coop said, ‘but you’re on the wrong road. You need the next one over.’ He pointed east.

Jeremy’s eyes followed his hand. ‘Geography’s not my strong point.’

‘Don’t know which of the Camerons you’re looking for,’ Coop said, ‘but the parents live in town. Their son, Paul, is overseas on his honeymoon and his younger sister, Annabel, is running the place. I heard she’s living in the main house, but I wouldn’t know for sure.’

‘Thanks, I’m just making a courtesy call. I’ll see who I can find.’

They were both silent for a moment.

‘Is this your place?’ Jeremy glanced around.

‘I work for the owner.’

There were damp patches forming under the arms of Jeremy’s white shirt as he rolled up the sleeves. He tugged at his tie. ‘I didn’t realise it would be this hot.’

Coop took in the ginger hair and red flush spreading over the visitor’s face. ‘Might pay to get a hat if you’re planning on being out and about a lot. Would you like a drink? There’s cold cordial inside.’

‘Cordial?!’ Jeremy’s face broke in to a broad grin. ‘I haven’t had cordial in years. That’d be great, thanks.’

Jilly stopped at the house gate and Coop led the way to the back verandah. He sensed Jeremy’s hesitation as Rusty hobbled towards them.

‘Don’t worry about Rusty,’ he said. ‘He’s harmless, more of a pet these days than a working dog. You’re getting a bit old to be picking fights, aren’t you, buddy?’ Coop ruffled Rusty’s ears then pointed back at Jilly by the gate. ‘Although he still lets Jilly know who’s boss.’

Jeremy stepped carefully past Rusty and Coop opened the back door. ‘Head inside. I’ll wash my hands and be right with you.’

By the time Coop entered the kitchen Jeremy was seated at the table reading the local paper.

‘Looking to see what’s on,’ he said. ‘I’m here for a few more weeks. What do you do for entertainment?’

Coop put a glass of cordial in front of Jeremy then raised his own, taking several swallows before he spoke. ‘You’re asking the wrong person. I don’t get out much.’

‘You were in town on the weekend. What do you do?’

Coop studied Jeremy’s face. It was good to see the red was fading. The cool drink was having its effect. ‘I keep to myself mostly, and there’s always something to do around the farm.’

‘But the weekends?’

‘Farming doesn’t always fit neatly into weeks and weekends.’

Jeremy put a hand to his forehead and rested his elbow on the table. ‘I don’t know how I’m going to survive.’

Coop felt sorry for the bloke. It wasn’t always easy adjusting to a new place – years of shifting around had taught him that.
At least I like the country
, he thought. His few trips to the city were always short, and while he was there, he yearned for the open spaces. No doubt Jeremy was feeling the reverse.

‘Sometimes there’s a cabaret or a dance at the local hall,’ he said. ‘The Highway Hotel’s been advertising bands, but I don’t know
when they’re on, sorry.’ He racked his brains for other ideas. ‘Barb and Bill at the Munirilla pub run darts nights, pool nights, bingo. Sometimes, if there’s no sport on, some of the younger blokes head to Whyalla or Port Augusta. It’s a long drive but …’ he trailed off. From the look on Jeremy’s face, Coop could see that none of his suggestions were appealing. ‘If I’ve got a few days off I tend to chuck my swag in the ute and go camping, either in the bush or over on the coast.’

Jeremy’s eyes locked with Coop’s. For a moment there was a look of despair in them, then Jeremy pulled a face. ‘My father said this job would test me. I thought he meant I wasn’t up to the work. Now I realise he was referring to life outside work. Still, I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s only happy if I’m not.’

Coop heard the bitterness in his voice.

Jeremy stood up and looked out the window. ‘The pub has turned out to be quite comfortable, but maybe I should look around for somewhere to rent.’ He waved a hand to take in the kitchen. ‘This isn’t bad for workers’ housing.’

‘This isn’t mine.’ Coop picked up the glasses and moved them to the sink. ‘Alice, the owner, asked me to stay in here while she’s away.’

‘Alice? You lucky guy. You’ve landed a job with a mistress rather than a master. Must be a few extra perks in that.’

Coop didn’t like the suggestive spark in Jeremy’s pale blue eyes. ‘I’ve got a few more jobs to do,’ he said. He opened the back door and stood beside it. ‘Will you be right to find your way to the Camerons’?’

‘Yeah, sure.’ Jeremy stopped in front of him. ‘Look, I didn’t mean anything … I was just joking.’

Coop saw the red flush in Jeremy’s face again, but this time it wasn’t from the heat.

‘Alice is sick at the moment. I guess I don’t have much of a sense of humour when it comes to jokes about her.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Jeremy’s cheeks deepened in colour.

‘Forget it.’ Coop gave a conciliatory smile. ‘But I really have more work to do.’

Jeremy turned and walked ahead. Coop followed him out the door and watched from the gate as the city bloke started up his car.

‘Maybe we can catch up for a drink next weekend,’ Jeremy called.

Coop gave a slight nod of his head and Jeremy drove away. Jilly nudged her head against her owner’s leg and he reached down to give her a pat.

‘He’s a strange bloke, that one, Jilly. A strange bloke.’

Coop glanced from Jeremy’s dust trail to the sky. The grey cloud had spread further while they’d been inside and what was left of the slight breeze had dropped out altogether. Something was brewing. He turned away from the house and whistled.

‘Come on, girl. We’ve got sheep to check.’

According to her GPS, the murky haze ahead was Port Augusta. Angela glanced over at Claudia who was, thankfully, still asleep. The trip from Melbourne to Adelaide had been exciting for both of them. They’d made it to the Adelaide depot in good time and spent the night there before loading up this morning, but that’s when Angela’s bravado had begun to waver. Perhaps Claudia had sensed it. She’d been tetchy and uncooperative ever since.

At the depot, Angela had run out of things to entertain Claudia with and stupidly promised breakfast at McDonald’s. The backlog of cargo was long and the assortment was such a mixture that it had taken a while to load, with some items having to stay behind until the next trip. By the time they were on the road it was later than Angela had anticipated. She wanted to reach Munirilla before dark and they still hadn’t seen a McDonald’s. So instead they’d stopped at a bakery in Port Wakefield, where Angela had placated her whining daughter, buying treats not normally allowed before
lunch. Back on the road, singing and playing ‘I Spy’ had filled the time until the little girl finally dozed off in a muddle of toys, paper, pencils and books.

Angela’s gaze followed the huge pylons stretching across the highway ahead. To her right, the Flinders Ranges formed a majestic natural barrier that disappeared into the hazy northern horizon. She’d never been to this part of South Australia, and getting away for a while had seemed like a great option back in Melbourne. Now, however, as each kilometre took them further from home, the initial excitement of the adventure was beginning to wane.

Her father had great faith in her ability, but the only long-haul she’d ever driven had been with another woman driver, sharing the run from Melbourne to Roma, in Queensland. That had been long before Claudia was around. Now, way beyond Adelaide and heading into unfamiliar territory, Angela was losing her confidence. Every new sound or movement played on her nerves.

There’d been no trouble getting leave from work – management was already cutting costs. Taking some holidays she was owed plus some leave without pay, she’d wangled a month. Long enough to help out her father and let the dust settle on the fallout from the wedding.

Big Red rumbled on and she gripped the steering wheel and clenched her teeth. The anger she’d been harbouring resurfaced and chased her doubts away. The injustice of her disgrace with Eddie still rankled. Kate was the only one who’d stood by her and tried to understand her side of the story. For what it was worth, she doubted Carmela would ever speak to her again.

To top this off, Nigel turned up the night after the wedding bearing gifts for Claudia. It was awkward, to say the least. The little girl had taken a fair bit of coaxing to reconnect with the father she hadn’t seen for seven months. In some ways this made Angela feel vindicated. In others, it broke her heart.

‘Can we stop soon, Mummy?’

Angela glanced across at Claudia who was peering at her through sleepy eyes. Her cheeks glowed from the warmth of the sun through the window.

‘We’re nearly at Port Augusta. We’ll stop there.’

The sound of a car horn drew Angela’s eyes back to the string of vehicles in front of her. The traffic was heavier now, and some drivers were getting impatient with nowhere to overtake her. She reduced her speed on the cruise control and changed the engine brake lever. The proximity radar was activated, keeping her a set distance from the vehicle in front.
It almost does drive itself
, Angela thought. She still couldn’t believe her father had let her take his truck. He must really want her to do this job.

‘Is that Janice’s car?’ Claudia asked.

Angela’s heart skipped a beat. She looked at the small blue car ahead, but quickly relaxed. ‘No. We’re a long way from Melbourne. Janice is still there with Grandpa.’

‘She wanted me to stay with her.’ Claudia’s voice was soft. Angela wasn’t sure how much Janice had told Claudia, but it was obvious now that she’d been preparing to keep the little girl with her.

‘Remember this is
our
big adventure, Claud. We’ll go back to Melbourne after a few trips in Big Red. You like Grandpa’s new truck, don’t you?’

Claudia nodded, then picked up the doll Janice had given her and clutched it to her chest. It was a bit worse for wear after its bath, but that didn’t seem to bother her. It irritated Angela to know that this doll was Claud’s favourite, but she could bear it, she thought, knowing she’d played the trump card and upset her stepmother’s plans.

Yesterday morning, back at the Melbourne depot, Janice had taken charge of Claudia as Angela and her father went over the final checks and paperwork. When Claudia was hoisted into the truck
by her grandpa, it was the shock on Janice’s face that finally made Angela realise what the other woman was up to.

Janice dragged Angela aside, hissing her disbelief at taking Claudia on the road. Angela simply laughed in her face. From Janice’s manner, Angela knew her father had been unaware of her plans. Angela had taken great pleasure informing her that she’d never leave Claudia behind. They drove off leaving a speechless Janice in their wake.

‘Mummy, I need the toilet.’

Angela glanced at the now squirming Claudia. ‘We’ll stop just ahead.’

‘Nowww!’ Claudia wailed, jiggling in her seat.

‘There’s a truck stop just ahead. Hang on.’

Claudia jabbed her legs stiffly out in front of her. ‘I want to get out now!’

Angela tried to block her daughter’s whining cries, needing all her concentration to manoeuvre the big rig off the road and alongside the fuel pump.

By the time Angela turned off the engine, Claudia was kicking and screaming. She’d worked herself up into a real tantrum. Angela climbed out of the truck and was hit by a hot wind loaded with dust. Claudia banged on the window. Once she was on the ground, she continued to whine and flap at her face.

‘I don’t like it here.’

‘This is where the toilet is.’

‘You said I could have McDonald’s.’

‘You wanted the toilet.’

‘I only like the toilet at McDonald’s.’

A man emerged from the roadhouse carrying a large bag of hot chips and a Coke.

‘I want a Coke.’ Claudia stamped her foot.

‘You’ve got a feisty one there,’ said the man, smiling. His shirt displayed the name of another trucking company. ‘I’m Greg.’

‘Angela, and Claudia.’ Angela pulled her mouth into a small grin and spoke through gritted teeth. ‘It’s been a long day already.’

‘Mummy,’ Claudia whined, and pushed at Angela’s legs.

Greg was looking at the truck. ‘Nice rig. I see you’re from Melbourne. Where’re you headed?’

‘Munirilla.’

‘I’ve just come through there from the west. You should have a good run. No obstacles on that stretch other than roos and the odd emu.’ Greg looked around. ‘You on your own?’

‘Mummy!’ This time Claudia yelled. ‘Come on!’

‘Not exactly,’ Angela said.

Greg raised an eyebrow.

‘We need the toilet urgently, sorry.’ Angela was annoyed and embarrassed by Claudia’s behaviour.

He gave her a nod. ‘Good luck.’

Claudia let forth with another yell. Angela grabbed her by the hand and walked quickly across the dusty yard to the toilets.

After they’d been to the bathroom, where Claudia took a long time to do her business, then even longer to wash her hands, she wanted to go into the shop.

‘I’m not buying you Coke,’ Angela said as they pushed through the door into the cool of the air-conditioned roadhouse.

‘I’m thirsty.’

‘There’s water in the truck. You can choose something to eat.’

‘Chips.’

‘No, not chips.’ Angela smiled at the woman behind the counter and cast her eye over the food on display.

‘Greg had chips.’

‘Greg’s got lots of room for chips,’ the woman behind the counter
said. ‘How about I make you a special sandwich with a couple of chips on the side?’ She gave Angela a wink.

‘What kind of sandwich?’

‘Speak nicely to the lady, Claudia.’

‘Oh,
Claudia
, what a nice name. I’m Jenny and I make the best sandwiches.’

The door swung open behind them. ‘Hey you!’ a voice bellowed. ‘That your rig out there?’

Angela looked around. There was no one else in the shop. She turned to face the man.

‘Yes.’

‘You need to move it, woman. Others need to refuel, you know.’

Angela gritted her teeth at his condescending tone as the door banged behind him. She’d forgotten she’d left the truck at the pump. She glanced at Claudia, who was stretching up on her toes to watch Jenny’s every movement behind the counter.

‘Claud, come with me. We’ll come back for the sandwich after we’ve filled the truck.’

‘No, I want to stay here.’

Angela took her daughter’s hand but Claudia pulled away. She looked back at the truck. This was the problem with bringing a four-year-old: you couldn’t leave them on their own.

‘You can leave her with me,’ Jenny said with a smile. ‘It’s not often I get a taker for my sandwich extraordinaire.’

‘What’s a “straw air” sandwich?’ Claudia asked.

Jenny laughed. ‘Ahh, it’s one that has my special ingredient in it.’

Angela gave in. ‘Stay with Jenny until I come back. Don’t go anywhere else and don’t come outside until I come to collect you.’

‘I won’t,’ Claudia said. She had a firm grip on the counter and wasn’t taking her eyes off Jenny’s sandwich-making.

Outside, the day was even dirtier. Sand and debris plastered Angela’s bare arms. Even though her hair was in a ponytail, loose pieces whipped around in the hot wind. A couple of other trucks had come in while she’d been inside.

The man who’d stuck his head in the door was glaring at her from his cabin. She noticed the name ‘Berl Stock Transport’ emblazoned in orange and gold on the purple cab. There was no doubt, from the smell carried by the wind, that his truck was full of sheep.

Angela could feel his eyes on her as she pulled on her gloves. She set the pump running and began to make her way around the truck and trailers to check the load. She was used to working with men from her father’s company. They all knew her well. She took their occasional digs at her femininity in her stride, but trucking was still very much a man’s game, and from time to time she crossed the path of an arrogant guy like this one.

She adjusted a loose strap and checked each tyre while the diesel pumped into Big Red’s tank. By the time she’d finished and shifted the truck, she was dirty and exhausted from doing battle with the wind and the heat. She almost fell through the roadhouse door in her hurry to get inside. Jenny was serving two men at the counter but there was no sign of Claudia. Her pulse began to race.

‘Mummy.’

Angela spun to face the sound of her daughter’s cheery voice. She was sitting in the far corner. Angela let out a sigh and strode over to the table. It was covered with a plate of fancy sandwiches, two milkshakes, assorted toys and a large book that Claudia was drawing in with some sparkly crayons.

‘The straw air sandwiches are nice, Mummy.’

Angela sat down and Claudia watched her closely before her face broke into a secretive smile.

‘The chips are nice too. I saved you one.’ Claudia lifted the book to reveal a small plate with one soggy-looking chip on it.

‘No thanks, Claud. You have it.’

Claudia munched contentedly on the chip and continued to draw with her other hand. Angela soothed her dry throat with a sip from the milkshake and inspected the sandwiches. Some were cut into tiny triangles. Others were multi-layered and cut into fingers like club sandwiches. She selected one of the triple-deckers and took a bite. A mixture of chicken, avocado and a tangy mango flavour melted in her mouth. It was delicious. She tried another while she watched Claudia draw.

‘This is Big Red and this is “Money Real”,’ Claudia said, pointing at the page.

‘What’s “Money Real”?’

‘You know,’ Claudia said haughtily. ‘Where we’re going.’

‘Munirilla?’

‘Yes.’

‘It’s pronounced
Mun-i-rill-a.’

‘Jenny said they have big trees there. She showed me on the map.’ Claudia climbed up onto the chair.

‘Get down, Claud.’

‘I’m showing you Money Real,’ Claudia declared, and pointed a stubby finger at a spot on a big map of Australia that all but covered the wall behind them. ‘This is where we are now and this is Money Real. It’s not very far. We’re nearly there.’ Claudia sat down and picked up her crayon again.

Angela studied the map. On paper it didn’t look far, that was true, but she knew it was another good four-hour drive, and she needed to get there in time to meet Ken Harris, her contact. He was to take receipt of the cargo, and show her their accommodation. Her father had been a bit vague when he went over the arrangements for the Munirilla end of the journey – something about the people there being a conservative lot. He’d had to reassure them he was sending one of his best drivers. And if Angela wanted to get there in daylight, they needed to get going now.

‘Everything okay here?’

Angela looked up at Jenny standing by the table. ‘Yes thanks, but we should be on our way.’

‘Claudia told me you were going to Munirilla. That town will be pleased to see you.’

‘Pack up now, Claudia.’ Angela stood up.

‘Aww,’ the little girl whined.

‘Thanks for the great food, Jenny. How much do I owe you?’

‘First visit’s on the house,’ Jenny said in a low voice.

‘Oh … No, I’m happy to pay.’

Jenny patted Angela’s arm. ‘It’s good to get some female company. Now, Claudia, I want you to take that book and those special crayons and draw me a picture of Munirilla. When you come back you can show me what it looks like.’

‘Okay.’ Claudia started packing up.

‘How about I pack these sandwiches?’ Jenny said. She leaned in closer to Angela. ‘I only gave her a couple of chips, so she might get hungry later.’

‘Thanks Jenny.’ Angela felt tears prickling her eyes at the other woman’s kindness. The tension she’d been feeling was threatening to overwhelm her.

‘There aren’t a lot through here, but we’re seeing more women driving trucks these days. Good on you for bringing a bit of gender balance,’ Jenny said, then scooped up the plate of sandwiches and hurried back to the counter.