At the crest of the hill, Kate slowed and pulled the ute over to the tangled grassy verge. The highway stretched along the coastline before her like a winding black snake. Today the sea was choppy. A brisk wind shunted clouds across a pale nursery-blue sky. The sight of the dark pines around the Bronty homestead filled Kate with mixed emotions. It was home. So familiar. Yet it felt so strange, knowing Annabelle was entrenched there now.
‘Look, Nell. That’s Bronty,’ she said to comfort herself, ‘the place I told you about. Mummy’s old home. Our new home.’
But Nell was too busy tangling her Wiggles shoelaces together to look up. Kate sighed. She pulled onto the highway and drove down the hill towards Bronty. As the ute juddered over the grid Kate took in the vista of several tree-lined creeks that tumbled down from the mountains to merge with the coastal lagoon, a still pond of tidal water dotted with waterfowl and flanked by tawny grasses.
Kate smiled to see Matilda in the sloping horse paddock, lying flat on the ground, the filtered autumn sunlight warming her round bay sides. Beside the mare, Will’s chestnut gelding, Paterson, stood with his head hanging low, bottom lip drooping.
On the other side of the drive, hoggets grazed white in the mottled grey-green turnip crop. Freshly wigged and crutched, they turned their snowy faces towards her. They must be Will’s replacement Merino ewe lambs, Kate deduced, please to see the evenness in their line. The smell of sheep drifted into the ute and Sheila sat up from where she was curled on the front passenger seat. She peered at them through her foggy old eyes and licked her lips.
‘We’re home, Sheils,’ Kate said, scratching the dog behind the ears. But when she saw the house, Kate felt tension rise. She couldn’t bring herself to go up there yet.
Instead she steered the ute over the short pasture towards the horse paddock. The grumbling sound of the diesel engine caused Matilda to lift her head. Paterson pricked his ears.
When the ute neared, Matilda hauled herself up, shook lazily and ambled towards the fence. Kate smiled. She hadn’t seen her horse for all those years. The sun-sheen on her coat and the way her belly sprang out round told Kate she was well. Will had kept her hooves trimmed and her mane and tail groomed.
‘Look, Nell! It’s Mum’s old horse.’
Nell’s face lit up as Kate let her down from the ute and led her by the hand to the fence. She lifted her so Nell could rest her hand on Matilda’s forehead.
‘Horsey!’
‘This is Matilda … and the other one is Patto. He’s your uncle Will’s horse. They’re both Walers. The old war style of horse. Dinky-d, digger, good-on-ya-mate, Aussie horses!’ Kate set Nell down.
‘Digger-di,’ Nell repeated as she clasped the wire and looked up at the horses with one eye closed in a squint against the sun. Kate slipped through the fence, put her arm around Matilda’s chunky neck and breathed in her sweet musky horse smell.
Visions of her mother flashed in her mind. Laney, in gumboots, clumping both horses up into the float in the dark. Driving the winding coastal highway to town so that Will and Kate could ride their Walers at the local dawn service. Chilled air and the sound of ‘The Last Post’ raising goosebumps on their skin on frosty Anzac Day mornings. And later, her mother treating them to hot chocolate at the tiny bakery that was filled with the sweet smell of dough and air so warm it hugged them. As Kate and Will swirled marshmallows through their drinks, war veterans patted them on the back and thanked them for bringing the horses all the way in for the service. Laney always had time – time for the old townies, for the horses, for her kids. Back then, none of them had known there was hardly any time left at all.
Kate slipped back through the fence and gathered Nell up in a hug. Perhaps here, back on Bronty, she could make more time for Nell. She could buy her a little pony, and take her to the bakery for treats. It was all there before them. A new life.
She turned to look at the house. It was shaded by leafy oaks and poplars, which were mottled yellow and green. She glanced up at the attic window, a black square, yearning to see her mother standing there waving to her. But the window was empty, the roof above it peeling grey. Clearly, Annabelle hadn’t got that far with her ‘improvements’.
Kate was about to load Nell into the car seat when she heard the tinny hum of a postie bike approaching. A smile lit her face. Will!
He tooted the clownish-sounding horn of the little faded red Honda, swerved and skidded to a comical stop. His dog Grumpy, a thickset tri-colour border collie with a ruff like a lion’s mane, and a young dog Kate didn’t recognise spilled from the back of the bike and Grumpy busied himself by pissing on Kate’s tyres. The young dog danced in front of Nell, wiggling its whole body. Sheila watched their carry-on sedately from her place on the front seat.
‘Big bro!’ Kate said, taking in how much weight he’d put on since she’d last seen him at the hospital. She stretched her arms out wide.
‘They let you back into the state!’ he said, hugging her and putting his cold cheek against hers.
‘Only just.’
‘Annabelle’s been trying to tell the whole district you got the sack from the Department of Constant Name Change and that you’d be home soon.’
Laughing, Kate shoved him a little as she let him go.
‘Transfer! It was a transfer!’
‘Whatever you’d like to call it, the word’s out. Janie’s been ringing me every half hour to see if you’re back. And how’s my little niece?’ Will asked, crouching to Nell’s eye level. ‘Good? Did you like going on the big ship?’
Nell backed away behind Kate’s leg, clutching her mum’s jeans.
‘Say g’day to Uncle Will, Nell.’ Kate looked up at Will. ‘A bit shy, but she always comes round.’ She was waiting for Will to say something like, ‘Geez, she’s like her father.’ But he didn’t. Instead he ruffled Nell’s curly blonde hair.
‘Very cute.’
‘Horses look well,’ Kate said quickly, steering the focus away from Nell.
‘Bit fat. Like me.’ Will patted his belly, then the tinny petrol tank of his bike. ‘I’ve been taking the steel horse lately. Annabelle’s allergic to horse hair, so she won’t have me in the house if I’ve been near them.’
Kate pulled a face. ‘How is she?’
‘Crapped off.’
‘So she hasn’t changed then.’
‘She’s feeling a bit crowded out.’
‘Right,’ Kate said flatly.
‘Gotta have room for Amy and Aden.’
‘Amy and Aden? The whole A-team is here together?’
‘Yep, the A-holes are alive and well. Aden came home last week. He’s not sure he wants to be a city boy anymore so he’s pulled out of Sydney and come home to Mummy. She’s decked him out in moleskins and he’s trying out the position of Man from Snowy River, without the horse. Useless as.’
‘And Amy?’
‘Amy’s home bludging from uni again.’
‘How’s Dad handling having the big A and the two little a’s about?’
‘You know Dad. Doesn’t say much. Just works.’
‘Gawd, Will. How awful.’
Will shook his head.
‘Bloody glad you’re home.’
They fell silent for a time. Kate could see the strain on Will’s face. He looked older. Kate was shocked to see grey flecks in his hair. He was only in his mid-twenties, yet frown lines slashed deeply across his brow.
‘You look like you’ve been working too hard.’
‘Me? Nah.’
‘Come on. You need a lift. There’s more to life,’ she said, grabbing his elbow and opening the ute door.
‘What? Where? Up to the house?’
‘Nah, bugger that! Let’s go to the pub.’
‘The pub! But what about …?’ he nodded towards Nell. Kate waved her hand in the air.
‘She’ll be right. Nell loves going out.’
‘But I’ve got sheep to shift. You’ve got cows to move.’
‘I do? Ah well, there’s always tomorrow. I’ll help. I promise. We’ll take the nags. Get Annabelle sneezing. She can look after Nell for me.’
‘Kate,’ cautioned Will.
‘C’mon, Will. Live a little! Surely we can have one welcome-home drink. My shout.’
Will shook his head, but Kate had already buckled Nell into the car seat and plonked a packet of Tiny Teddies in her lap. Then she whistled Will’s dogs up onto the ute. They scrabbled over the lumpy tarp that covered Kate and Nell’s bags and she clipped them onto short chains.
‘You’ll have to nurse Sheils,’ Kate said as she swept aside the rubble of takeaway papers, cassettes and drink bottles in the front cab.
Will frowned but clambered in anyway, wrestling an overweight Sheila onto his lap.
‘Some things never change,’ he muttered.
‘What do you mean?’ Kate asked, revving the ute.
‘Kate Webster and responsibility. Never the twain shall meet.’
Ignoring him, Kate spun the wheels of the ute.
‘Mind the soil compaction, please! That’s my new pasture you’re working up. It’s been air-seeded!’
‘Some things never change,’ Kate quipped.
‘What do you mean?’
‘William Webster and anal retentiveness.’
‘Get a grip.’
Kate glanced over at Will, her eyes bright.
‘Let’s get Janie to come to the pub too. Dave could mind Nell. You’ve got your phone? Call her.’ She turned up Adam Brand’s ‘Get Loud’ full blast and revved over the grid onto the highway.
‘Welcome home, little sis,’ muttered Will. ‘Welcome home.’ But he couldn’t help his smile.