Hope Farm (21 page)

Ishtar stood, silent.

He went on. ‘It was hard for me to see this, because it meant seeing weakness in myself.' The smile dropped away. ‘I was weak, Ishtar. For a long time I have been. I used her. Her money.'

I tried to see Ishtar's face, to gauge her reaction, but her head was lowered.

Miller began to pace. ‘I told myself it was only fair, since I looked after her, that it belonged to me too, since she was my wife. But that wasn't true. I was just being weak. A coward. I was shackled just like everyone else, to comfort, to the easy way.'

I fixed my eyes on Ishtar, the screen of her hair, making the magic shape with my fingers.
Don't listen to him
.

Miller paced and turned. ‘But did it bring us happiness, either of us? No. Does she have respect for me? No.' He paused and looked down at himself, then made scrubbing motions at his torso and thighs. ‘Can't you see how tainted I am? Anger. Frustration. Resentment.' With each word he scrabbled his fingers as if brushing away insects. Then suddenly he dropped to his knees. He put his palms to his face and began to make deep, groaning sobs. ‘There was love, when we met, Dawn and I. But I should have seen that there was corruption too, already. I should have got her away from them — her parents, the doctors.'

Ishtar pulled her jacket closer round herself. Miller's hair was brushing at her legs and she took a step back. ‘I need to go inside now,' she said.

He grabbed her round the knees, and I dug my nails into the hut wall. He rose, keeping hold of her, the hem of her jacket, then her shoulder. When he was standing again, he put one hand in under her hair at her neck. His thumb was at her throat, the black-rimmed fingernail pushing into the groove alongside her windpipe.

The trees swayed, the air sang, the pulse of insects sounded urgent and coded. My body was rigid against the timber, arms locked, legs tensed but unmoving. I could hear Miller's sobbing breaths and see the tears going down into his beard, but Ishtar made no sound at all. Her eyes were closed, her body still.

‘I could just take you,' he said, quietly, almost whispering. Another sob, and his voice went thin and high. ‘I could do it that way. I could.' His wet face glittered in the sunlight, his teeth shone. Without releasing his hold he let his head droop, his cheek lie against her shoulder. ‘I could do it that way … but I won't, my love. I won't. Because it will be better when you come of your own accord. Can't you see what has happened? I'm free. I'm a free man. And you need to come with me as a free woman.'

He stayed like that for a few moments, and his breathing quietened. Then he let her go and she turned and went straight into the hut and closed the door behind her.

He didn't try to follow — he just stood there for a while. Then he humped his shoulders and gave a short, barking laugh. He tipped back his head and turned in a slow circle, staggering slightly, reaching into the air as if trying to grab at something invisible. He was muttering, but I couldn't catch the words. He circled twice, then lowered his arms and stood looking into his hands. I could see his lips moving, and hear a droning buzz, like a swarm of bees. Eventually he let the imaginary thing drop and trudged off to his car, which drove away with spasmodic revs of the engine.

The next day Ishtar brought home a bolt, which she fitted to the inside of the door using a screwdriver of Dan's that had been left behind. Now, when we were both inside at night, she slid it closed. She did it the way she did everything — neatly, quietly, like it was nobody else's business.

That Saturday she stayed in bed all morning, and I went down to the creek to escape the sight of her under the quilt and the dank air of the hut, which seemed to carry a sweetish, bodily smell that made the nervous feeling in my gut worse. Ian didn't show up, and I found myself scanning the implacable rise on the far side of the water, unable to block a vision of him kneeling, pinch-faced, at the lip of that black opening, dropping things in: a handful of leaves, spit from his mouth, all his rage and fear and the long tangles of lonely shame that even I, his one friend, was banned from sharing and could only guess at. He needed that hole — I understood that more than ever now — but that didn't make it any less terrifying.

When I went back to get something to eat, Ishtar was still in the bed. I mixed up some milk and made a bowl of muesli, moving quietly, but she must have been awake anyway. When she spoke, her voice was lucid, collected.

‘I need you to go over to Hope,' she said. ‘Get Val for me. Tell her I need her help.' She had her back to me, but it was as if she saw my hesitation, the way I sat swirling my spoon through the milk, which had globs of yellowy, undissolved powder in it, floating with the oats and sultanas. ‘Go now,' she said.

I went, ducking through the bush, the muesli sitting in a lump under my ribs. At the top of the hill I squatted in the grass and peered round, but there was no sign of anyone. When I got to the tree, I recognised Miller's shape lying on the mattress in the back-paddock shed. He had a fire going; smoke laddered the sky above the buckled roof.

Heart racing, I half ran, half slid down the rest of the hill. Jindi was outside playing with a bunch of half-grown chicks. When she saw me approaching she scooped one up and stood, toes turned out, holding the chick at waist height like an award she was waiting to present. Her round face was grave and patient; her too-small pants strained at her thighs.

I ignored her and went straight to the kitchen door. In passing I glanced at the entry to the mud-brick building, and wondered if what she had said at the bridge was true, that it was Dawn who had banished Miller to the shed. It didn't seem possible that tiny, wispy Dawn with her feathery hair and sticks of arms could have so much power. But it wasn't always about who was bigger. I thought of her arrival, the way he'd guided her from the car, his large form so reverent, and the careless, entitled way her frail hand lay over his.

The kitchen was empty and I went through to the hall, calling Val's name in a low, self-conscious way. The room she and Jindi slept in was empty too, the wide-open door showing the bedcovers thrown back and four pairs of Val's shoes — all elastic-sided boots in varying states of wear — set out under the window, alongside a bit of cardboard with the words
Shoo shop
smearily printed on it in crayon. Rita was lying in her bed and I passed quickly without seeing if she was awake or asleep. The other bedrooms were either closed or uninhabited. There were voices coming from the front room though, and just as I reached the curtain, Val came through it; I caught sight of Dawn in there, her drooping figure in one of the armchairs, chin in hand.

‘Silver,' said Val, but didn't stop. She went on bustling back towards the kitchen, and I found myself drawn along behind, mumbling my message.

‘What's that?' She went into the little laundry room and lifted the lid of the washing machine. ‘What's she need help with?'

‘I don't know.' I waited for her to sigh in a long-suffering way, or say she couldn't come, she was too busy. But she turned and gave me a hard look, then abruptly reached out and prodded with her forefinger into my ribs.

‘You need a good meal.' Pushing past me, she began rustling round on the dresser shelf for her car keys.

She drove, in her rusted yellow station wagon, with me and Jindi in the back seat. When she had parked outside the hut she sat for a moment regarding the blind-looking building with its shuttered door and black window and I felt keenly aware of how run down it still looked, how small and shabby.

‘You girls wait here.' Val got out of the car, marched over to the door and rapped on it. It opened and she went in.

‘Is this where you live now?' Jindi moved closer and her thigh lolled against mine. ‘It looks like a shed.'

‘It's actually a miner's cottage.'

‘It's okay, you know, to live in sheds. Miller does now.'

I tried to ignore her. The sun had come out and the air in the car was heating up. There was a cloying smell, like damp woollen jumpers and sleep.

She sighed luxuriously, leaning into me. ‘The shed people,' she said in a grand voice. ‘Now I know two shed people. You, and Miller. No, three — you, and Miller, and Ishtar.'

‘It's not a shed. It's a miner's cottage.' I got out and went to the door of the hut, which was ajar.

‘So you don't know how many weeks?' came Val's voice from inside. ‘You sick? You look sick.'

Ishtar's answer was inaudible.

‘Yeah, probably not too far gone then,' said Val. ‘Well, I'll ask around. Don't worry, it'll be all right. Even if it's a bit late they can deal with it.'

Something more from Ishtar, a murmur.

‘You just take it easy.' Val's voice was unusually tender, but when she came out of the door she was brisk as ever, hustling Jindi back into the car.

‘Come down any time,' she called to me from the open window. ‘If you're hungry.'

She returned the next evening with some bean stew and rice in an enamel dish, and a piece of paper she handed to Ishtar.

‘Good luck.'

‘Thanks.' Ishtar went back to the bed and sat on its edge.

‘No worries.' Val stopped in the doorway. She spoke in her usual rough, joking way, but her eyes were careful. ‘Miller's gone off his rocker a bit. He hasn't been bothering you, has he?'

Images bobbed up: Miller kneeling, the explosions of his sobs; his red face with smears of black; his great hands reaching as Ishtar walked away.

Ishtar didn't even look up. ‘No.'

Val folded her arms and rested her hip against the doorframe. ‘Too much acid, I reckon. Seen it before. Fries yer brain. Silly bugger.' She let air out between her teeth with a pensive, comfortable sound. ‘Ah, well. They'll be gone soon. Dawn's turned out to be all right. Funny how these things happen — you get these pathetic, victim women who wouldn't say boo to a goose, and then their bloke falls in a heap and suddenly out they come with all this hidden strength.'

Now Ishtar's head lifted. ‘They're going?'

‘Pretty soon, I reckon. She's kicked him out, but she'll take him back. She's just punishing him a bit.' A brief smile, but still those eyes on Ishtar's face, assessing. ‘She says she wants to get a place of her own, she's had enough of him. But she'll take him with her, I reckon. Wouldn't be surprised if this kind of thing's happened before. I dunno, maybe they like the drama.'

Ishtar straightened. ‘She's kicked him out?'

‘Well, out of their room, anyway. He's camping down in the back paddock, poor bastard.'

When Val had gone, Ishtar stared at nothing for a long time. She still had the piece of paper in her hand. After a while she put it away in her bag without even looking at it. Then she got into the bed.

‘I have to go to Melbourne tomorrow,' she said. ‘For a few days. You can stay at Hope.'

Later, when she was asleep, I took the bit of paper out. All it had written on it was
Doctor Parker
, and a phone number. I refolded it and put it back.

I got up early. It was still dark and I crept out without waking Silver and went through the cold along the creek path. The sky was just getting light all the leaves were ghostly pale I felt like a hurt animal dragging myself along, my legs so heavy and that swollen feeling in my breasts and the sickness always there I couldnt wait to be rid of it. Val had been right he was in the shed in the back paddock. From the top of the hill I could see a burned down fire a red dot in the silvery blue. I went to the mud brick and opened the door quietly then felt my way in the dark to her room. I hadnt thought about the dark, all I could see when I got there was the blue square of the window I couldnt even make out the bed. But I felt around and there was a candle and matches in the same place as before. She looked like she was dead lying there her face all still and bony. Dawn I whispered, Wake up. I had to squat down and shake her skinny shoulder. She opened her eyes. Its me I whispered, Ishtar. She just stared at me. Are you awake? Get out she said, but I held up my hand. You want to hear this. I am making you an offer. She sat up. I told her slowly, the way Id been practicing. Im pregnant. Its Millers. Eight hundred dollars and youll never see me again either of you. Her eyes went up and down my body. Suddenly her hand shot out and down my top her cold fingers on my tight hot breast. I couldnt help making a noise, it hurt. She poked around, she had a kind of empty look on her face. Its not enough just feeling someones breast I should have thought better about it and got proof got the doctor to write it down and sign it or some thing but she believed me any way I could tell. Maybe she could just see it the way Val could the way my mother could all those years ago, some thing in my face my skin. Maybe she remembered what it was like. He would leave you I said, If he found out. If I told him. He wouldnt care about your money any more he would leave you for this baby. She made a face like she was in pain. I had her now she couldnt stand the thought of him getting someone else pregnant I knew that would be her weakness. But I wont tell him I said. And I wont keep it. Eight hundred dollars and I go to Melbourne I get an abortion and I get on a plane. Youll never see me again and he will never know. Straight away she said But how can I be sure youll do it? I will do it I said. I would do it any way but I dont have any money he took it all. I have nowhere to go. If you want to see me gone youll have to pay for it. I dont have that much she said. Not on you I said. But you can get it. I will need to make a telephone call she said, It might take a day or two. You write out the check now I said, And date it for Friday I wont cash it till then. That gives you four days. She squinted her eyes. I had her I was pretty sure but just in case I said If you dont give me the money I will get rid of it any way but I will tell Miller and just think what that would do to him. She made that face again. I sat back and waited. I thought about a hippie wedding I went to once where a guru wrapped the couples hands up together in a long cloth round and round. My fingers twitched. I was holding it up the dead dream that kept her and Miller together that they had worried and worn at till the spaces showed in the weave, I was holding it up with both hands and I was ready to rip. All right she said. Let me get my check book.