Blackpeak Station (15 page)

‘I can’t tell you what I’ll be doing in
February
.’ He sounded disgusted. ‘Look … let’s just leave it.’

‘What are you saying?’

‘That maybe you should give me another call when you’ve sorted your priorities out. I don’t think I like the way they stand at the moment.’

Charlotte felt her jaw drop, and re-clenched it firmly. ‘Fine,’ she said quietly, and pressing the end button, put the phone back in its cradle.

She was walking out of the vet’s the next day when she saw Rob. Her stomach clenched. He was dressed for work,
looking — as he always did — slightly wrong in a suit and tie, the wavy gold hair she’d run her fingers through so many times tossed by the wind. Charlotte watched his face change as he saw her, too. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, with what looked like a bit of an effort, he smiled.

‘Hey, Charlie. How are you?’

‘Good.’ She tried not to look into the familiar blue eyes. Oh, she hadn’t thought she’d feel this bad. It was hard work not to touch him.

He bent to stroke Fly’s head. ‘Been in the wars, eh girl?’

‘Cow kicked her in the shoulder,’ Charlotte explained. ‘She’s lucky — nothing broken, just badly bruised. Bit of rest, they say, and she should be good as new.’

‘You know I’m leaving tomorrow.’ Rob straightened. ‘I thought you might have rung to say goodbye.’

She studied the pavement. ‘I was going to.’

‘Right.’

They stood in silence. She ransacked her brain for something to say.

‘Well — I’d better get going. Take care of yourself, okay?’

Charlotte watched him turn, and start to walk away.

‘Don’t go.’

He turned back. ‘What did you say?’

She swallowed hard. ‘I said I’ll miss you.’

‘I miss you now.’ He gave her a sad half-smile. ‘Goodbye, Charlie.’

As he walked on, she opened the door of the ute and climbed in, the tears running down her cheeks.

Chapter
THIRTEEN

Charlotte could feel the afternoon sun burning her forearm as she bumped across the paddock towards the homestead. To either side of her, bales of hay squatted on the stubbly grass, tarpaulins over their crests to protect them from the worst of the rain. But there had been no rain so far, and the hot, dry wind that had roamed the valley for the last week was already turning the bales from green to gold.

Another couple of days, she thought, and they could start bringing it in. She smiled to herself. Hay was like an offering to the weather gods — the more you managed to make of it, the less you always seemed to need it.

She parked the truck by the dog kennels, empty except for a despondent Fly. The whiskery black and tan face
looked up at her pleadingly, but Charlotte shook her head. ‘Four weeks to go, girl.’ She checked there was water in the bowl and got a couple of biscuits from the shed. Fly was convalescing, after all.

The wind brought the sounds of the calf-marking up from the yards — barking dogs, swearing voices, and the frightened bellowing of the calves for their mothers. Charlotte checked her watch. Three o’clock. If she hurried, she could save Kath a trip and take smoko down.

Rex and Jen were already sitting in the shade of Jen’s ute when she pulled up.

‘How’s it going?’

Reaching for a scone, Rex mumbled through it, ‘Not bad.’

‘Sixty-odd to go,’ said Jen, more clearly. She selected a piece of fruitcake and looked it over with a critical eye. ‘You know, it’s a wonder we’re not all twenty stone thanks to your wife, Rex.’

Shoving away a slobbering beardie, Charlotte helped herself to a scone. Behind them, the penned calves yammered and stamped. Rex tipped out the dregs of his tea and eased himself up off the ground. ‘Well, better get back to it, I suppose.’ The dogs emerged, panting, from under the ute to take up their positions.

‘Need a hand?’

‘No, we’re pretty right here, I think.’

‘Okay.’ Charlotte got up. ‘I’ll head back up. There’s a message to ring Carr — he must be ready to get his hay in.’

Rex grinned. ‘You going to make Matt’s day?’

‘Suppose I should.’ She swung back into the cab. ‘Something to cheer him up when he gets back tomorrow.’

Glencairn had recently acquired a Swedish backpacker, Siri, who Matt had his eye on — not that he was alone. Having called Carr and arranged for Matt to drive over the
following night and help with the hay, and for Owen to come back with Matt and return the favour — and having received the customary invite to Glencairn’s woolshed party in the process — Charlotte made a cup of tea and sat down in the office.

The scent of jasmine drifted through the open window, and a horsefly banged stupidly against the raised half of the pane. The occasional clump of weeds flying skywards betrayed Kath’s presence in the border below.

She opened her inbox. There was one from her mother and one from Nick, both headed ‘Christmas’.

‘What is it, dear?’ called Kath, as Charlotte laughed.

‘Just an email from Nick — he’s coming down for Christmas.’

‘Oh, lovely.’ An airborne clump of couch grass rained soil against the glass.

‘Yikes,’ she said, reading further.

‘What else does he say?’

‘He’s bringing Flavia. And Mum’s coming, too.’

As she flicked back to her inbox, a new message popped up. Charlotte stared at it. Michael Crompton. With a feeling of dread, she opened it — yep, it was just as bad as she thought.

‘Now what?’ asked Kath, hearing her groan.

‘Michael Crompton wants to bring his family down for the weekend.’

‘Michael who, dear?’

‘Crompton — you know, my new’ — Charlotte sighed to herself — ‘business partner.’

‘Not this weekend?’

‘No, in two weeks’ time.’

‘Well, that should be all right, shouldn’t it? Things will have quietened down by then.’

‘Yeah, I suppose.’ She sighed again. ‘But what are we going to do with them all?’

‘How many of them are there?’ Kath sounded alarmed.

‘Well, just the four — but two kids …’

‘Oh, they’ll be fine. Take them for a ride on the quad bike and let them pat some animals and they’ll think they’re in heaven.’

‘You reckon?’ She wasn’t so sure.

The Cromptons arrived, as expected, just in time for lunch on the second Saturday in December, putting their helicopter down in the home paddock. A woman in her forties was first to extricate herself, surveying her surroundings with an expression not dissimilar to that Neil Armstrong might have worn on his first moon walk.

Erica Crompton wasn’t quite the trophy Charlotte had been expecting, but, perhaps feeling her lack of natural assets, she was exquisitely — if inappropriately — dressed and made-up. The sun caught the diamonds on her fingers as she smoothed back her perfectly highlighted blonde hair and began to make her way cautiously across the grass, trying not to sink in her heels.

Two children, dressed with similar attention to detail, followed in her wake, continuing the fight they’d obviously started during the journey. The boy, Jack, paused to wrinkle his nose and declare loudly, ‘It stinks here!’ Erica ignored him. ‘Mummy!’ he screeched, pulling on her hand ‘It stinks here! Doesn’t it, Mummy? I
said
it stinks here!’

‘It’s a farm, Jack. It’s supposed to smell.’

‘But why, Mummy?’

‘Hello.’ Erica spoke above the whining of her son with practised ease. ‘You must be Charlotte. I’m Erica, Michael’s
wife, and this is Jack — don’t, please, Jack — and that’s Bella over there.’

‘Nice to meet you,’ said Charlotte valiantly, following Erica’s gaze to where Bella was swinging on the gate to the horse paddock.

‘Bella’s pony-mad,’ said Erica. ‘I told her she might be able to ride here?’

‘Me too!’ shrieked Jack. ‘Me too, Mummy!’

Charlotte suppressed a shudder. ‘The station hacks are pretty strong — they’re, er, not used to kids.’

‘Oh, Bella’s a good little rider, I’m sure she’ll be fine. She has lessons.’

Crompton appeared out of the sun like the cavalry.

‘Hi, Charlie. Met Erica, have you? Good. And of course, I don’t need to introduce this guy, do I?’ he laughed.

She blinked.

‘Hello, Charlotte.’ Luke stepped casually out of Crompton’s shadow. ‘How’ve you been?’

‘Mummy, when can I ride the horses?’ demanded Bella, sidling up.

‘You’ll have to ask Charlotte.’

A painful tugging on her hand distracted Charlotte from Luke’s appraising stare.

‘When can I ride the horses, Charlotte?’

She snatched her hand away with unthinking violence, then managed to force a smile. ‘We’ll talk about it after lunch.’

‘I want to talk about it now!’

Crompton ruffled his daughter’s hair. ‘Now, Bella, Charlie said after lunch. You can ride the horses then.’

Charlotte closed her eyes briefly. ‘The homestead’s this way.’

‘What’s a homestead, Mummy?’

‘It’s a house, Jack.’

‘Why doesn’t she call it a house, then?’

Escaping to the bathroom before Kath served up the pavlova, Charlotte discovered Jen already in residence there.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Hiding — what does it look like?’

They stared at each other. Charlotte sat down on the edge of the bath.

‘I’m not going back in there, Charlie.’

‘You have to.’

Jen shook her head. ‘No,
you
have to. They won’t miss me.’

‘Oh no you don’t. If I have to, you have to.’

Jen closed her eyes and started to laugh. ‘My God, have you ever seen such monsters? And what on earth is bloody Luke Halliday doing here?’

‘Buggered if I know.’

‘Taking my name in vain, ladies?’

‘Fucking hell,’ said Jen, helping Charlotte up out of the bath.

‘It’s not nice to sneak up on people, you know,’ added Charlotte, having regained her seat.

Luke grinned. ‘I didn’t sneak — you just didn’t hear me coming.’

‘Well, what
are
you doing here, anyway?’ demanded Jen.

‘Looking for the toilet.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘What are you two doing here, more to the point?’

Charlotte shot a glance at Jen. ‘We’re hiding from the Crompton kids.’

Luke shuddered. ‘You should try spending an hour and a half in the back of a helicopter with them.’ Sitting down
beside Charlotte, he pulled out his phone. ‘I’ve got a couple of episodes of
Entourage
on here. How about you — any supplies? Magazines? Board games? Whisky?’

There was a knock on the door.

Charlotte tried not to laugh. ‘Who is it?’

‘Charlie? What’s going on in there?’

‘Rex? Is that you?’

‘Of course it’s bloody me!’

Jen opened the door. ‘Quick, before anyone sees.’ She pulled him inside.

Rex looked around in disbelief as she locked the door behind him.

‘Here they are,’ he said grimly, some seconds later, ushering them back into the kitchen.

‘Where on earth have you been?’

Charlotte started — she’d never heard Kath speak sharply before in her life. ‘We, um …’

‘The toilet was blocked,’ said Luke smoothly, taking his seat. ‘It’s all right, we managed to fix it.’

Erica shuddered and put down her spoon.

‘I don’t like pavlova,’ Jack said.

‘Would you like some ice cream?’

‘Only if it’s chocolate.’

‘Can I go riding now?’ Bella returned to the attack.

Mindlessly, Charlotte watched Jack deliberately drip chocolate ice cream onto the table.

‘Don’t go on about it, Bella,’ Crompton said. ‘Charlie said you could go after lunch, didn’t she?’

‘Actually,’ Charlotte took a deep breath, ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea for Bella to ride the horses here. They’re far too strong for her, and they haven’t been ridden for weeks. I wouldn’t want her to get hurt.’ Not fatally, anyway, she added to herself.

‘They don’t look dangerous,’ said Crompton uncertainly.

‘But she said I could ride!’ howled Bella. ‘She said, didn’t she, Mummy?’ She turned to Charlotte, fixing her with a livid blue gaze. ‘You’re a liar! I hate you!’

‘Bella!’ Erica reproved mildly. ‘Don’t be rude.’ She, too, turned to Charlotte. ‘Don’t you think she could go for just a little ride? I’m sure it can’t be dangerous, and she’s been looking forward to it so much.’

Charlotte restrained her temper with an effort. ‘Well, it’s up to you. Just don’t blame me when she falls off.’

‘I never fall off,’ said Bella haughtily. ‘Do I, Mummy?’

‘Pavlova?’ said Luke, sliding the plate in Charlotte’s direction with a smile.

Defeated, Charlotte and Jen set out for the horse paddock after lunch — old Archie was the quietest horse they had, but even so, he had no intention of working today, and it took them fifteen minutes to corner him and get a bridle on him.

‘I wanted that one!’ protested Bella, pointing to a dashing young chestnut colt doing a fair impression of a rodeo act in the far corner.

Charlotte gritted her teeth. ‘This is Archie. He’s a much nicer horse.’

‘He’s ugly. I want the chestnut one. Mummy?’

‘This one does seem awfully big,’ Erica said doubtfully.

‘They’re all big,’ snapped Jen. ‘They’re horses, not little girls’ ponies.’

‘I bet I can ride better than you,’ Bella spat. ‘I want the chestnut one.’

Jen looked at Charlotte. ‘Well, I suppose we could catch Jupiter for you …’

‘But he hasn’t been broken in yet, so I don’t think that would be a very good idea,’ said Charlotte, glaring at her.

Jen smiled sweetly in return and placed the saddle on Archie’s back, giving him a hefty knee in the stomach as he threatened to blow himself out. Part draught, Archie stood at a good eighteen hands. They lifted Bella onto his back. She peered dubiously down at the ground.

‘Are you all right, darling?’ asked Erica anxiously.

‘Of course I am. Don’t be silly, Mummy.’ And before they could stop her, Bella had dug her little heels hard into Archie’s sides and was off.

He had his moments, but Archie was a nice-natured horse. Hardly able to feel the small weight on his back, he saw no reason not to get back to what he’d been doing before he was so rudely interrupted. Having walked a few paces, he put his head down and began to graze.

Prostrated across the horse’s massive neck, Bella squealed, first in fright and then in fury. Watching her saw at Archie’s mouth with the reins, Charlotte felt her own mouth harden. She was just about to intervene when Archie decided he’d had enough. Jerking his head up, causing Bella to drop the reins, he trotted towards the fence. Bella screamed. Alarmed, Archie stopped. Bella catapulted over his neck, landing on her back in the grass. Archie resumed his grazing.

‘Oh my God!’ screamed Erica.

Shaking with laughter, Charlotte tried to reassure her. ‘She’ll be fine, she just landed on the grass.’

‘Michael, she’s not moving! Do something! She could have broken her back!’

Crompton jogged over to his daughter. Charlotte and Jen followed at a more leisurely pace.

Bella gazed up at them, sobbing her fright. ‘Daddy, I can’t breathe!’