Queen of the Road (7 page)

Once they were in the truck again, Angela was amazed to see they’d stopped for nearly an hour. She filled out her diary, anxious to be back on the road.

Out on the highway they passed every kind of fast food outlet, including a McDonald’s. Thankfully Claudia had been distracted with her new crayons.

With Port Augusta behind them they drove south for a while. Ahead the sky still looked murky, but was now tinged with grey instead of red. Angela checked her GPS and turned west to follow the Eyre Highway in the direction of Munirilla. The Wiggles sang another song and the road stretched off towards the darkening western horizon. She eased her grip on the wheel and rolled her shoulders, trying to relax her taut muscles.

Every so often Angela pointed out cows or sheep dotted amongst the low bushes of the open plains on either side of them. Claudia was interested for a while, but eventually dropped her book and sat back in her seat.

Few vehicles approached the rig, but Angela was gradually gaining on a car and caravan. The road ahead was clear, curving gradually into the distance. Just as she indicated she would overtake, however, the vehicle surged away from her. Angela flicked her eyes at the dials on the dash and shrugged. She’d rather the caravan kept out of her way and save her the bother of passing. She maintained her speed and watched the back of the caravan gradually disappear around the bend.

Several horses grazed on their right. Angela glanced across at Claudia. The little girl sat quietly looking out the window. Best to let her be. Maybe she’d doze off again.

They crested a rise and were suddenly closing on the car and caravan that had sped away from them only a few kilometres earlier. But with the road again clear ahead, the vehicle picked up speed and moved away from them.

‘Sightseers,’ Angela mumbled under her breath. She flicked another glance at Claudia, whose eyes were shut. It was a good opportunity to change the CD.

The road remained straight for some time, but the country was changing to undulating hills. As they rose over the top of one, the highway stretched out towards the next. Angela smiled, recalling
her father’s favourite saying when she was a kid. Whenever she’d ask if they were nearly at their destination, he’d always say, ‘it’s over the next hill’ or ‘just around the next bend’.

But the smile left her face as, once more, she gained on the car and caravan and, yet again, just as she got close enough to overtake, they sped away.

She muttered some choice words under her breath. Her father would have said worse. These damn holidaymakers were playing cat and mouse.

Angela flicked off the cruise control and gained on them just as they were reaching the next rise. With a long, clear stretch in front she pulled out, working the gears and using the advantage of the weight behind her to roar past the car and caravan and leave them behind.

Once she felt she’d put enough distance between them, she eased back on the pedal and switched the cruise control back on. They rolled on into the murky late afternoon light as the clouds began to gather. She kept her eye on her mirrors every time she reached a summit, but the road remained empty behind her. Big Red was travelling well. Angela hummed along to the music, feeling the confidence rise within her.

Claudia moaned.

Angela glanced over. ‘What’s the matter?’

The little girl’s eyes were wide and her face was white. ‘I hurt.’

‘Where do you hurt?’

Claudia patted her chest. ‘Here.’

What could cause her pain there? Angela thought back over everything Claudia had done that day. She hadn’t had a fall … The seatbelt wasn’t too tight …

The little girl began to moan louder.

Angela peered into the gloom. They’d passed a parking bay sign recently, but she couldn’t remember how far back.

‘Hurts,’ Claudia moaned. Her face was fixed in a grimace and she was pulling her knees up to her chest.

‘Hang on, pumpkin, I’ll stop the truck.’

As Angela stepped back through the gears the parking bay came into view. It was only a small clearing with a rubbish bin but there was room enough to get the rig in and off the road.

The first drops of rain splashed across Angela’s face as she jumped from the cab and ran around to Claudia’s side. She threw open the door and stepped up to undo the seatbelt just as her daughter let out a big groan. The comforting words Angela had been about to offer died in her throat as a warm spray of vomit hit her chest and ran down her t-shirt.

Claudia began to cry and gasp for air. Angela clamped her own mouth shut and tried not to inhale as the pungent smell wafted around her and the warmth soaked into her clothes. She lifted Claudia down and held her while she continued to bring up a bright pink mix of everything she’d recently eaten.

Eventually the little girl stopped heaving and began to sob pathetically. Angela scooped her up and perched her on the step of the truck, trying to provide some shelter from the strengthening rain.

‘I don’t like that yucky stuff,’ Claudia mumbled between sobs.

Angela couldn’t remember the last time her daughter had vomited – she’d always been a very healthy child. She wiped her mouth with a tissue.

‘Did Jenny give you something else to eat at the roadhouse?’

‘Chips.’ Claudia began to sob again. ‘I don’t like chips anymore.’

The colourful pool of vomit on the ground was now being dispersed by the rain. Claudia had eaten a lot of things today, but nothing pink.

‘Did she give you some lollies? Something pink or red?’

Claudia pushed her face harder against Angela’s shoulder.

‘Careful, Claud.’ The little girl’s hair, which was miraculously
vomit-free, was now coming very close to the cooling patch on Angela’s chest. ‘Look at me. I’m not cross with you, I just need to know what you ate that was pink.’

Slowly Claudia turned her big sad eyes to her mother. ‘Grandpa’s berries.’

Of course. Angela’s dad always had red jubes in his truck, and he’d given them a packet before they left. But they ate those yesterday.

‘I don’t think …’ Angela looked at the worry on her daughter’s face and she began to comprehend. ‘Did you have another packet?’

Claudia nodded and held up two stubby fingers.

‘Two
packets. And you’ve eaten them all?’

Claudia nodded again.

Angela didn’t know whether to be relieved that it was just overeating that had made Claudia sick or cross with her for being so sneaky. But the rain didn’t give her time to think any more on it. They had to get cleaned up and back on the road.

She got Claudia tucked into the bed in the cabin before the sound of a vehicle slowing made her look up. Lights illuminated the gloom at the back of her load as the car she’d passed towing the caravan pulled into the parking bay. The idiot driver had their headlights on high beam so she couldn’t even look at the vehicle, let alone see who was inside.

She slammed the passenger door and raced through the rain to the driver’s side. Once in her seat she clicked the locks, released the brakes and urged the idling truck forward. No doubt it was just a coincidence that the driver pulled into this parking bay – there weren’t that many places to stop along this stretch and driving conditions had deteriorated. But it was an isolated place and she didn’t want to share it with whoever was towing that van.

Back on the road, Angela checked her mirrors, but no one followed. She wrinkled her nose. Even after a wipe down and a
clean t-shirt, the faint smell of vomit still permeated the cabin. She glanced over her shoulder at the shape of her daughter tucked into the bed in the bunk behind.

With time to herself again, Angela’s niggling doubts about the job returned. The driver with the caravan had unnerved her. She didn’t want to admit it, but maybe Janice had been right. It was one thing to take off and try something new, but was it the best thing for Claudia?

In front, Big Red’s headlights pierced the darkness and highlighted the rain slicing towards them. They were going to reach Munirilla very late. If it took too much longer, Angela would be over her logbook hours, which meant driving illegally, or stopping for the night out on the road somewhere. She focused her eyes ahead. Neither was an option.

Coop made a dash for the house. The rain had swept in on a strong wind and was now falling heavily. His dusty clothes were fast turning to mud, along with the ground beneath him.

Under the cover of the verandah, he stopped to watch the rain pounding down and smiled at the quickly forming puddles. It was good, steady rain, and didn’t look like it would stop for a while. A small ripple of optimism rose in his chest. Not that one shower ended a drought, but it certainly brought hope. Which was something farmers needed as much as they needed the rain itself.

Coop stood there and watched the downpour. At his feet, Rusty dropped his head to his paws, while above him, water flowed over the edge of the verandah, creating a curtain of water. The gutter must be blocked.

Even though it was wet, the air was still warm and thick. It reminded him of a night, many years ago, on a wide Queensland verandah, where he’d watched his mother being danced around by
her new man as the rain streamed from the roof. Jeff’s property had been in drought for years, but the day after Coop and his mother moved there, the heavens opened and the water flowed. Jeff called Coop’s mother his lucky charm.

Coop smiled at the memory before quickly pushing it to the back of his mind, where he tried to keep that part of his life locked away. It was amazing how something as simple as water pouring off a roof could take him back in an instant. At least they’d been happy that night – there were so many times when they hadn’t been.

He straightened up, took a last look at the rain and went inside. It was a shame the new tank hadn’t arrived yet. By the look of the darkening sky, quite a bit more rain would fall.

In the kitchen, he took a container from the fridge. Another casserole Alice had prepared and left in the freezer for him. The rain was getting steadily heavier, and by the time he’d set the microwave going, Coop could hardly hear its motor for the loud drumming on the roof. He wondered if the rain was widespread and if it would reach the city. Hearing it on her roof might lift Alice’s spirits.

With the supply of fresh groceries she’d left him getting low, Coop decided he’d drive into town in the morning and check the depot while he was there. Maybe the part for the seeder had arrived, possibly even the long-awaited tank as well. Ken had been working hard to keep the supplies coming into the district, and to find transport for more than stock.

He glanced across at the phone, an old wall variety mounted by the door that led into the lounge. He’d had a couple of progress calls from Alice’s cousin, Mary, but there was no reason he couldn’t just ring Alice himself. Mary had been expecting to take her home in the last day or so.

He pulled his notebook from his shirt pocket and dialled Mary’s number. She sounded pleased he’d rung, but Alice was still in the
hospital. Her recovery was going slowly, she told him. Mary gave him the ward number and encouraged him to ring, but she also warned him that Alice might not make much sense.

Coop studied the hospital number for a few minutes before picking up the phone again. A nurse answered and said she’d put him through. Several more minutes passed until finally he heard a crackling noise, then a voice, barely audible, that sounded nothing like Alice.

‘Hello?’ said the voice.

‘Hello Alice. It’s Coop.’

‘Coop?’

He pressed the phone closer and put a hand up to cover his free ear. ‘How are you, Alice?’

‘Coop?’

‘Yes, it’s me.’

‘Where are you?’

‘On the farm.’

‘Not here? You said you’d come and see me.’

Coop hated to hear the feeble tone in her voice. For the second time tonight he was reminded of his mother, but on this occasion, of the not-so-happy times. He was beginning to regret the call. ‘I’m at Munirilla, on the farm. Looking after the place for you.’

‘Munirilla …’

Coop pushed the phone firmly to his ear. ‘Alice, it’s raining.’

‘Raining?’

‘Yes. Listen.’ He lifted the handset to the roof as far as the cord would allow, then pulled it back to his ear. ‘Can you hear it?’

‘Rain?’

‘Yes. It’s raining, just like you said it would. It’s absolutely bucketing down.’

‘I knew it would rain. Long overdue. Time for the dust to settle again.’

‘I’ve got the seeder nearly ready to go. The Dohne ram is content in the paddock with the next mob of ewes – I don’t think there’ll be any problem getting a second serving from him. I’ve been fixing the fence over near Barry’s place, but the ewes in there are all okay. I’ll shift them to the paddock closer to the house soon. It’s nearly time for them to drop their lambs.’ Coop paused. ‘Alice?’

There was a big sigh, then a clunk, followed by silence on the line. He put the phone back in its cradle and stood there a moment. Alice hadn’t sounded herself at all.

Coop threw open the microwave and took out his meal. Another voice crept into his mind, a slurring, hesitant, plaintive voice, a voice from the past that had the power to make his skin crawl, even now. He forced himself to block out his mother’s drunken words – how easily they still came back to haunt him. He wondered for a brief moment where she was. A part of him still yearned for the fun-loving woman his mother could be. He kept a tiny memory of her in a corner of his brain, a small, happy recollection of the rare times when her sobriety and his wellbeing had been able to co-exist. No doubt she was still somewhere in Queensland. Had she managed to clean herself up again?

Then yet another voice, this one firm but kind, blocked his thoughts. He’d done all he could. Tough love meant he’d had to walk away or be doomed to being sucked down the sad, one-way drain with her. But she was his mother, and he could never truly forget her or entirely stop loving her, no matter what she did.

He took a bite of his meal and tried to focus on Alice. She’d been more of a mother to him in the last two years than his own had ever been. He hated the thought of the strong woman he’d come to know losing her independence like this.

Mary had reassured him the medical staff thought Alice would improve with time. It was just how much time that bothered Coop.

He felt his chest tighten and he shifted his feet back and forth under the table. Alice had always known he couldn’t stay forever. For the first time since she told him about her condition, he worried that she might never actually return to the farm.