‘So you got the grader sorted?’
‘Yeah. Eventually. With a little help.’
Bella didn’t look happy about admitting this as she marched into the kitchen, but Liz couldn’t resist prodding. ‘I thought I heard a vehicle earlier.’
‘Probably Gabe. Luke sent him over.’ Bella pulled a face, then turned quickly to the fridge and helped herself to the water jug.
Liz was glad Bella missed her sudden, knowing smile.
‘Or you might have heard the mail truck,’ Bella said after she’d downed a glass of icy water.
‘The mailman came all the way to the homestead?’
‘Mailwoman,’ Bella corrected, raising her eyebrows as she retrieved a wad of envelopes from the back pocket of her jeans and dropped them onto the kitchen table. ‘Nikki Browne. I knew her from years ago. She used to be on the rodeo circuit and she’d heard I was back, so she called in to say hi.’
‘That’s nice.’
‘You might not think so when I tell you her real agenda.’
‘Why? What is it?’
‘Nikki’s a single mum,’ Bella said as she refilled her glass. ‘These days she works part-time in the general store and does the mail run. And she has this little boy called Declan – he must be about five now, I guess. He’s started prep.’
Liz met this news with an impatient frown. ‘Okay.’ But why should that concern me?
Shooting a look of clear sympathy over the rim of her glass, Bella said, ‘Nikki’s heard that you’re back. The whole district’s talking about you and she thought you might like to give Declan piano lessons. She would have called in and asked you herself, but she was running late. I guess she’ll be in touch.’
Shocked into silence, Liz stared at her niece.
‘Yeah, I thought you’d be pleased.’ Bella grimaced and drank her second glass.
But Liz was already recovering. ‘I suppose I shouldn’t be so surprised,’ she said. ‘I know what it’s like to live out here, miles away from concerts and music lessons. I’ve already had a phone call from Nancy Hedges from the CWA asking if I could play for their next function.’
‘You’re joking.’
Liz shook her head.
‘What did you say?’
‘I said I might be needed here and I’d get back to her.’
‘You don’t feel obliged to play, do you?’
‘No, of course I don’t.’ Liz gave a helpless little laugh. ‘Well, yes, I guess I do feel just a little obliged. I mean, I grew up here. I’m from here, even though it was years ago, and I do have something to offer.’
Besides, I feel I have a debt to pay.
Bella was watching her with a slow-dawning smile. ‘I guess the locals are thinking – we’ve got a world-famous pianist in our midst and she’s our world-famous pianist.’
‘Maybe they are and I get that. If I play for the rest of the world, why shouldn’t I play here?’
‘Would they expect you to play for free?’
‘That’s not the issue,’ Liz said quickly. ‘The CWA are raising money for the Flying Doctors.’
‘Well, that’s certainly a good cause.’ Bella seemed to give this some thought. ‘But, for what it’s worth, I think you’re wise not to give them an answer straightaway.’
‘Yes, let’s see how the next few days pan out.’ Liz pointed to the loaded picnic basket she’d set on one end of the kitchen table. ‘And if you’re showering before dinner, make it snappy. I’ve thawed the snags and I’ve wept while I sliced onions, so I’m ready and raring for this riverside feast.’
‘I’ll make a quick phone call to Dad,’ Bella said, remembering her promise.
‘You should have called me,’ her dad said, when she told him about the trouble with the grader.
‘Dad, I can’t bother you with every little thing. I got it sorted.’
‘Yeah, I know. Sorry, Belle. Still getting used to the idea of you there on your own.’
‘I’m fine. Liz and I are having campfire sausages tonight, down near the waterhole.’
‘That’ll be nice. You’ll make sure you put the fire out, won’t you?’
‘Yes, Dad. Anyway, how are you?’
‘Oh, you know . . . like a cup of tea in a boarding house . . . big and weak.’
Bella winced. She still hated the thought of her strong, active dad lying bedridden and helpless. ‘Well, look after yourself,’ she said. ‘And stop worrying about me, won’t you?’
‘I’m not worrying.’
‘Good.’
‘I love you, sweetheart.’
‘I love you, too, old fella.’ She felt a bit choked and teary as she said this. Quickly she added, ‘Gus sends his love, don’t you, Gus? Dad, say hello to Gus. I’m putting the phone down so he can hear you.’
The dog wagged his tail ecstatically and woofed.
Her father was chuckling, but then he asked, ‘Have you got the dog in the house?’
‘Liz brought him in,’ Bella said. ‘Don’t tell Mum, okay?’
‘Not on your life.’
It was magic to be down by the river at dusk.
Bella and Liz chose the sandy bank on the deep bend that formed the old swimming hole they’d both loved as kids in consecutive generations. This evening the hole was fringed with pink waterlilies.
The sky was tinged with lavender as it captured the last rosy rays of the sun and the waterhole was perfectly still, reflecting the white trunks of the towering paperbarks.
The scent of smoke and burning gum leaves lingered on the still air. The only sounds were the faint crackle of the fire and the distant squawk of cockatoos calling to each other as they headed home.
‘Wow. I’ve missed this,’ Bella said. ‘There’s nothing quite like the smell of a campfire and the taste of crispy sausages flavoured with wood smoke.’
Liz was grinning as she sat on the bank, hugging her knees. ‘It’s true, isn’t it? The simplest things really are the best.’
‘Absolutely.’ Bella flipped sausages in the frying pan. ‘And I reckon there are only two kinds of snags. Good and bloody good. You can’t beat them with fried onions and tomato sauce, wrapped in bread.’
‘Mmm. I’m ravenous.’ Liz flung out her arms as if to embrace the river. ‘And I’m remembering all the fun Peter and I had here as kids. Swimming and campfires and picnics.’
‘Yeah, same for Luke and me.’ Plus Gabe, Bella added silently.
‘I think this might be the right moment to open a bottle of wine.’ Liz reached into the deep picnic basket.
Bella grinned. ‘Perfect.’
By the time the fire had reduced down to a small heap of glowing coals, Liz, replete with sausages and wine, couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so laid-back and at ease.
This morning’s journey with Gus to a certain old bottlebrush tree had helped. Liz had wept as she’d erected a small cairn of stones under the tree, but afterwards, she’d felt a tiny bit better. She hoped fervently it might be the first step to some kind of healing after a very long time.
‘I’ve been meaning to ask you about Gabe Mitchell,’ she said, wanting to divert her thoughts from her own issues.
‘What about Gabe?’
Hearing the snap in Bella’s voice, Liz realised she’d quite possibly destroyed their moment of perfect relaxation. ‘Sorry if I raised a touchy subject.’
‘Why would I be touchy about Gabe?’ Bella had been stretched on her back looking up at the stars, but now she sat up and poked a stick into the fire’s embers, raising sparks. ‘I’ve known him all my life.’
‘Yes, I remember hearing about the two of you when you were little. I always understood you were great mates. I gained the impression from Peter that you got on better with Gabe than with his young sisters.’
‘Because I was a tomboy,’ Bella admitted with an unhappy smile. ‘I was too busy keeping up with Luke and Gabe. It was the pits to be left behind with the little girls.’
‘But you’re not on good terms with Gabe now?’
Bella let the stick fall and she stared downriver to where the full moon had risen from trees and was hanging, shiny as a scoured frying pan, in the still, inky hotness of the night.
She seemed to be weighing up what she should say, then she gave a shrug. ‘Gabe and I had a thing going for a while, but it didn’t work out.’
Having experienced her share of ‘things’ that hadn’t worked out, Liz might have shrugged this aside. But Bella had known Gabe all her life and Liz suspected she was hiding a deeper hurt.
‘Bad luck,’ she said gently.
‘Oh, I don’t know. It was probably good luck. It freed me to travel.’
Leaning forward, Liz could see Bella’s face in the moonlight, saw the fierce stubbornness in her niece’s expression, saw her tight shoulders. Her tense hands.
Ah . . .
Her heart softened with sympathy. So that’s what happened. You weren’t just running to follow me. You were running away. From Gabe.
‘But while you’re asking nosy questions,’ Bella said suddenly, surprising Liz. ‘I might ask one as well.’
‘Oh?’ Liz tried to ignore the sudden stirring of panic.
‘You keep saying you’re okay about being back here after all this time, but I know you’re finding it hard.’ Bella shot her a quick, searching glance. ‘It is hard, Liz, isn’t it?’
Liz swallowed to ease the knot of tension in her throat and she stared at the glowing embers of their fire. ‘It’s getting easier.’
‘If you want to talk . . . ’
‘Oh, you don’t want to spoil a lovely night with my sorry old story.’ No way could she tell Bella about the tiny grave. Not now. Not tonight. ‘Anyway, it’s water under the bridge.’
To Liz’s relief, Bella didn’t push.