Promise (17 page)

Shit.

‘Who is it?’ asked Charlie.

‘I don’t know.’ She walked over the rock to get a clear view up the path. A brown kelpie appeared at the top and tilted its head and looked down at Anna. A man carrying a gun came into view. Michael, the guy they met on the driveway yesterday. Yesterday a machete, today a gun.

‘Hi,’ he called. ‘I see you found Pat.’

He carefully placed the gun and a bag on the path, and scrambled down the bank, sending a small cascade of pebbles and dirt to the bottom. What did he want?

The dog barrelled past the man, leapt over the creek and sniffed Anna and the bag of food, then moved on to Charlie and nudged the girl’s bare leg with its nose.

The girl stepped away, her body stiff. ‘Its nose is wet.’

Anna grabbed the dog’s leather collar. ‘Come back here, you,’ she said. The dog strained away from her.

‘Your girl will be okay.’ The man came to stand near Anna on the rock. ‘Sit!’

The dog sat.

Anna felt like saying, I’ll take care of my girl, thanks.
My girl.

‘She’s got a sore arm, that’s all. I don’t want her knocked over.’ Anna adjusted her damp t-shirt. She wondered if she could pull on her shorts without it seeming too awkward.

‘Yeah. I see that.’

He looked younger than he did the other day; she guessed he was in his early fifties. He wore patched jeans, a faded green work shirt and a long grey plait down his back. He crouched and patted his dog’s head, then looked up at Charlie.

‘All dogs have wet noses, you know. It helps cool them down in hot weather.’

Charlie bent to examine the dog’s brown nose then laughed nervously and reared back when it tried to lick her.

‘What’s its name?’

‘
Her
name’s Ralph.’

‘Ralph!’ said Charlie in a stern voice, her brow furrowed. The dog pricked its ears and tipped its head to one side, eyes fixed on Charlie.

‘You said that like the boss,’ said Michael. ‘She likes to know who’s the boss.’

‘Are you her boss?’

‘I’m her boss. But it’s okay for you to talk to her like that, too.’ He stood up. ‘I can teach you how to talk to her, if you like.’

She gave a small smile.

‘I’m Michael,’ he said to Charlie, then turned to Anna.

‘Hi,’ she said. ‘Anna. And Charlie.’

Oh, shit. Why didn’t she invent some names? But then she’d have to explain that to Charlie.

He nodded. ‘I’m on my way to do some hunting up the valley.’ He lifted his chin upstream. ‘I’ll be far away, but you’ll hear it. Pat suggested I come down and tell you.’

‘What are you hunting?’

‘Well . . .’ He scratched an ear and looked over the waterhole. ‘Wild dogs.’ He roughly caressed the kelpie’s head. ‘I hear you made your escape from the big city.’

‘Oh?’ Pat must have told him the violent-husband story.

‘Pat told me to keep it quiet that you’re here. No problem. My lips are sealed.’

‘Thanks.’

Michael squatted and cupped creek water into his mouth. He had an earnest, steady quality that made Anna inclined to trust him. He wiped his mouth and glanced over at Charlie. There was something particularly watchful, even tender, about the way he regarded Charlie. Anna wondered if he had kids.

‘Did you two leave a dog behind?’ he asked.

‘No,’ said Anna. She hoped he wasn’t settling in to ask more questions. ‘How long have you lived here?’ she asked.

‘Five years. And I’m not planning to leave, ever.’ He stood and wiped his hand on his jeans. ‘I have almost everything I need right here. I do labouring work on nearby properties. There’s food here, power, heating. All here.’

He pointed to a green heart-shaped leaf growing on the bank. ‘You can eat that, you know. And that. There’s food all around us. And medicine. I even feed her feral cats.’

Charlie said, ‘I want a dog. I want Ralph.’

Michael nodded slowly. ‘Mmm. You can’t have Ralph, though.’

‘I know,’ Charlie said in an irritated voice.

‘You can play with her, though. Come over and visit me one day. But it’s time for us to go now. Ralph! Come on.’

As they watched him climb back up to the path, Charlie said, ‘What’s feral cats?’

‘They’re wild cats. That maybe used to live with people but took off into the bush.’

‘Oh.’ Charlie took the sandwich that Anna passed her. ‘Are you my boss?’

‘Well, I’ve made some decisions about what I think is best for you . . .’
But I’m refusing to give you what you want: your mother.

‘So, are you my boss?’ Charlie lifted the top slice of bread to look at the cheese.

‘Yes. For the moment I am, yes.’

Charlie took a bite then dropped the rest of the sandwich onto the rock.

O
n the lawn in front of Pat’s house, Anna emptied everything out of her car: stinking, urine-soaked shorts, the towel and blanket, her bag of maps, insect repellent, tissues, torch, mobile-phone charger, notepad and three pens. Each of them a relic from a distant life.

On the verandah, Sabine tied an apron around Charlie’s waist while the girl ate a guava and spat the seeds onto the grass. Beside them was Anna’s red first-aid kit, which her dad had given her last Christmas. Anna had a moment’s thought that her dad might try to track her down, that he’d set off in his Commodore to all the places he could imagine she’d go.

Would he think of Pat’s? It would be so lovely to see her dad right now, except that he’d want her to hand herself in.

The laundry was behind an overgrown
monstera deliciosa
, and was built of corrugated iron and heavy-duty clear plastic. The twin-tub washer looked exactly like the one Pat owned seventeen years earlier.

She dumped the clothes on the rough cement floor, turned the tap on and watched the water rush into the tub. Ordinary, swirling water. Life went on. The washing still had to be done.

Pat appeared in the doorway with a pillow under each arm.

‘I’ve tidied up the bails for you two.’ He smiled. ‘Even given you a fancy bed I made. The only thing I need to find you is a bedside lamp.’

‘Thanks, but I don’t need a lamp.’

‘Oh . . .’ He waggled his head from side to side and smiled. ‘The overhead fluoro is pretty intense. I guess they needed strong light for milking in the dark.’

She smelt a whiff of dope on him. He didn’t used to smoke in the daytime.

‘No rush on that. Thank you. And here’s your phone. Can you save that photo of the bruise on her bottom for me? Until I need it.’

He nodded – a pained look on his face – and slid the phone into his pocket.

Laughter came from the house. Charlie had been so excited at the idea of making a cake with Sabine.

Anna turned off the tap and swished her hand around in the water. ‘I’m sorry if us turning up has, you know, created any difficulties between you and Sabine.’

He smiled slowly. ‘No. It hasn’t.’ He adjusted the pillows under his arms. ‘It’s all good.’

‘Well, I’m glad to hear that. Um, do you have some detergent?’

‘Just there.’ He nodded to the wooden shelf above her.

‘Oh! Right in front of me!’ She reached up for the box of Sunlight powder. ‘You put it at man height.’

‘Sabine height, actually.’

Oh, yes. She felt chastened. This was Sabine’s home.

‘I’ll take your car down to my mate’s once I’ve finished making your bed.’

‘I’ll make the bed. Just leave it.’ She scooped soap powder into the water.

‘S’okay. It’s almost done.’ He started out the door.

‘How did the midwife visit go?’

‘Good.’ He turned back. ‘She says everything’s as it should be.’ He smiled and shrugged. ‘Which doesn’t mean all that much ’cause I don’t know how things should be. It’s all a mystery.’

‘Yes.’

‘And . . .’ He sighed. ‘Thank god it’s all fine because Sabine won’t go to hospital, no matter what. Jo likes to think Sabine’s a hard-core home-birther but she’s not.’

‘Do you
really
think they’d put her in detention?’

He cleared his throat. ‘I guess the point is, she’s terrified of it. I think being locked up is her worst fear.’

‘Well . . . it’s good that the midwife’s happy, then.’ She tried to sound nonchalant. ‘So, did you plan this baby?’

He didn’t hesitate. ‘No.’

‘Oh.’

‘Anyway,’ he said, ‘it’s happening now.’ He smiled and raised his eyebrows. ‘The rollercoaster awaits.’

She wondered what would have happened if she had refused to have an abortion all those years ago. Would they still be together? Perhaps they’d be living right here, with their own tribe of kids ranging around. Perhaps she’d be standing at this very washing machine doing a load of kids’ clothes. More likely, she’d be the broke single mother of a seventeen-year-old, putting a load through the machines at the Mullumbimby laundromat.

Pat pointed to the machine. ‘So, the washing water goes into those buckets and then onto the fruit trees.’ He smiled. ‘Like before.’

‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I remember.’ She slid the box of soap powder back onto the shelf and dusted off her hands. ‘I want to ask you about making a phone call.’

‘Mmm.’ He sounded less than enthusiastic.

‘I’d like to phone Dad. I left him a message as I was leaving Sydney but I want to talk to him . . . just to reassure him.’
To reassure me.
‘He’ll be frantic.’

‘But is that a good idea, you know, given he was a cop?’

‘
Was
a cop.’

Pat raised his eyebrows. ‘I really think you’d do better just to lie low. Making those kinds of phone calls is how people get caught.’

‘I’m not going to tell him where I am. I just want to tell him I’m okay.’
And make sure that when he speaks to the cops he doesn’t suggest this as a place I might go
. ‘He’s my dad.’

Pat sniffed. ‘So how were you thinking to phone him?’

‘Well, maybe they’ll be monitoring his phone line . . .’

‘Yeah. I’d say so.’

‘So I thought I could phone him at the pub he goes to every Tuesday evening after squash.’

‘Tomorrow?’

‘Yeah.’

Pat looked out the door to the orchard. ‘You should call him from a public phone.’

‘Okay.’

‘What will he think of you taking off with Charlie?’

‘I imagine he’ll . . . wish I hadn’t, given that it’s such a serious offence.’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘Hopefully he’d think child abuse was more serious.’ He nodded. ‘Okay. I’ll take you into town tomorrow. I have to pick something up from a mate’s place, anyway. And . . . just in terms of your overall plan . . . to give us a bit more clarity . . . you’re going to turn yourself in soon, right? We’ll get your car back and you’ll present yourself at a police station?’

‘Yes.’

He gazed at her, as if waiting for her to say more.

‘I’m still figuring things out. To be honest, Pat, I’m . . .’ She took a deep breath to stop the tears. ‘I have no idea what the best thing to do is. All I know is I want to make her safe from that man and from her mother. I’m scared she’ll be taken back to them.’ She gave him a tight smile. ‘But it’s a bit of a mess, isn’t it?’

‘I don’t see how waiting here for much longer will make it less likely that she’ll go back to them. You’ll just have to tell the cops what you know and they’ll talk to her, too, I guess.’ He sighed. ‘I don’t want you to wait for them to find you, Anna. Because that will tangle us up in it. And they
will
find you in the end, especially if you start doing things like making phone calls. I want to help you and the girl but you need to have a plan to turn yourself in.’

‘Okay. Yes. I’ll make one.’ Maybe her dad would help her make a plan. Even if he disapproved, he’d want her to be safe.

Pat cleared his throat. ‘And if – as you hope – Charlie doesn’t go back to her mum, then where would she go? A foster family?’

‘I guess so.’

‘Does she have grandparents?’

‘I don’t know.’

Why hadn’t she thought about Charlie’s grandparents? She remembered Gabby making light of being yelled at as a kid.

Pat said, ‘Sabine and her little brothers ended up living with their grandma. Which wasn’t that great, but was better. Anyway, I’ll keep moving, so I can get your car down the hill. I’ll see you later.’

She dropped the dirty clothes in the washing machine and turned it on and went to lie in a shady patch of grass just outside the laundry. She closed her eyes. Somewhere close by, a bird was calling.
Whoop woo
, a deep two-note call.
Whoop woo
. The damp ground soaked through the t-shirt that Sabine had given her but she was too weary to move.

•

Pat had assumed that Anna would want an abortion. She never told him of her excitement at the idea of a baby, and being tied to him and his place forever. He didn’t even raise the possibility of going ahead with the pregnancy, and Anna felt ashamed of her happy-family fantasy.

So they drove to the clinic on the Gold Coast and broke up a few weeks later and Anna went back to Sydney. She didn’t feel all that much regret until her mid-thirties, when it began to look like she might never get another chance to be a mother. After Pat she had a couple of relationships, then Ben came along when she was thirty. Ben, who she really thought she’d settle down with. They even tried to get pregnant for a few months before it ended; he said he wanted different things from Anna, not that he could spell out what they were. She still wondered if he’d met someone else and wasn’t brave enough to say so.

At thirty-six, after another short relationship, Anna realised motherhood was drifting out of reach. So she switched off any maternal desire, like she’d had to switch off her longing for her mother, and for Ben after he left. It was self-preservation and not really that hard; she just threw that line of thinking into some kind of suspension, until it became habitual not to go there.

And now, she’d landed – with a child in tow – right in the middle of Pat’s family-to-be, with Sabine playing the role that might have been Anna’s all those years ago, if she’d spoken up. If Anna had had that baby, she would never have ended up living next door to Charlie, and the little girl would still be in that house with Harlan and Gabby. Or worse. That non-decision all those years ago was one of the things that led her here, now.