would. It’s absolutely bucketing down.’
‘I knew it would rain. Long overdue. Time for the dust to settle again.’
‘I’ve got the seeder nearly ready to go. The Dohne ram is content in the paddock with the next mob of ewes – I don’t think there’ll be any problem getting a second serving from him. I’ve been fixing the fence over near Barry’s place, but the ewes in there are all okay. I’ll shift them to the paddock closer to the house soon. It’s nearly time for them to drop their lambs.’ Coop paused. ‘Alice?’
There was a big sigh, then a clunk, followed by silence on the line. He put the phone back in its cradle and stood there a moment. Alice hadn’t sounded herself at all.
Coop threw open the microwave and took out his meal. Another voice crept into his mind, a slurring, hesitant, plaintive voice, a voice from the past that had the power to make his skin crawl, even now. He forced himself to block out his mother’s drunken words – how easily they still came back to haunt him. He wondered for a brief moment where she was. A part of him still yearned for the fun-loving woman his mother could be. He kept a tiny memory of her in a corner of his brain, a small, happy recollection of the rare times when her sobriety and his wellbeing had been able to co-exist. No doubt she was still somewhere in Queensland. Had she managed to clean herself up again?
Then yet another voice, this one firm but kind, blocked his thoughts. He’d done all he could. Tough love meant he’d had to walk away or be doomed to being sucked down the sad, one-way drain with her. But she was his mother, and he could never truly forget her or entirely stop loving her, no matter what she did.
He took a bite of his meal and tried to focus on Alice. She’d been more of a mother to him in the last two years than his own had ever been. He hated the thought of the strong woman he’d come to know losing her independence like this.
Mary had reassured him the medical staff thought Alice would improve with time. It was just how much time that bothered Coop.
He felt his chest tighten and he shifted his feet back and forth under the table. Alice had always known he couldn’t stay forever. For the first time since she told him about her condition, he worried that she might never actually return to the farm.
Chapter 12
Angela heard them coming across the muddy yard, two men chatting comfortably like old mates. The rain had stopped at last and the early morning air was crisp and still. After a bit of sleep, she was feeling slightly better than she had last night.
By the time she and Claudia had reached Munirilla it was dark and wet. Angela had managed to find the depot and park the truck under a sign she could barely read – something ‘Transport’. But all she’d had the strength to do then was send her father a text to say they’d made it and crawl into the bunk beside Claudia.
Now, as she leaned against the side of the truck, sipping a fresh cup of tea and eating one of Jenny’s day-old sandwiches, listening to the approach of her first contacts in Munirilla, her confidence waned once again.
‘It’s a decent rig, Jimbo,’ one of the voices said.
‘Yeah Ronnie. At last we’ve got ourselves back on the map.’
‘Thanks to Ken.’
‘Yeah, I guess.’
‘Good load on board too. Do you reckon he’s brought everything?’
‘Don’t think so. There were a lot of tanks on order, and a couple of small sheds. Where do you reckon the driver is? Still sleeping?’
‘Dreaming with the fairies, more like. What kind of a guy is called Angel anyway?’
‘Could be an Italian, you know, as in “Angelo”.’
Angela straightened up as the two men, one tall and one short, came round the front of the truck.
‘Well, well, well,’ the short one said. ‘This Angel fellow’s one lucky son of a gun. He’s brought the missus with him.’
The reason behind her father’s vagueness now hit Angela with a thud.
The rogue
‘I knew it would rain. Long overdue. Time for the dust to settle again.’
‘I’ve got the seeder nearly ready to go. The Dohne ram is content in the paddock with the next mob of ewes – I don’t think there’ll be any problem getting a second serving from him. I’ve been fixing the fence over near Barry’s place, but the ewes in there are all okay. I’ll shift them to the paddock closer to the house soon. It’s nearly time for them to drop their lambs.’ Coop paused. ‘Alice?’
There was a big sigh, then a clunk, followed by silence on the line. He put the phone back in its cradle and stood there a moment. Alice hadn’t sounded herself at all.
Coop threw open the microwave and took out his meal. Another voice crept into his mind, a slurring, hesitant, plaintive voice, a voice from the past that had the power to make his skin crawl, even now. He forced himself to block out his mother’s drunken words – how easily they still came back to haunt him. He wondered for a brief moment where she was. A part of him still yearned for the fun-loving woman his mother could be. He kept a tiny memory of her in a corner of his brain, a small, happy recollection of the rare times when her sobriety and his wellbeing had been able to co-exist. No doubt she was still somewhere in Queensland. Had she managed to clean herself up again?
Then yet another voice, this one firm but kind, blocked his thoughts. He’d done all he could. Tough love meant he’d had to walk away or be doomed to being sucked down the sad, one-way drain with her. But she was his mother, and he could never truly forget her or entirely stop loving her, no matter what she did.
He took a bite of his meal and tried to focus on Alice. She’d been more of a mother to him in the last two years than his own had ever been. He hated the thought of the strong woman he’d come to know losing her independence like this.
Mary had reassured him the medical staff thought Alice would improve with time. It was just how much time that bothered Coop.
He felt his chest tighten and he shifted his feet back and forth under the table. Alice had always known he couldn’t stay forever. For the first time since she told him about her condition, he worried that she might never actually return to the farm.
Chapter 12
Angela heard them coming across the muddy yard, two men chatting comfortably like old mates. The rain had stopped at last and the early morning air was crisp and still. After a bit of sleep, she was feeling slightly better than she had last night.
By the time she and Claudia had reached Munirilla it was dark and wet. Angela had managed to find the depot and park the truck under a sign she could barely read – something ‘Transport’. But all she’d had the strength to do then was send her father a text to say they’d made it and crawl into the bunk beside Claudia.
Now, as she leaned against the side of the truck, sipping a fresh cup of tea and eating one of Jenny’s day-old sandwiches, listening to the approach of her first contacts in Munirilla, her confidence waned once again.
‘It’s a decent rig, Jimbo,’ one of the voices said.
‘Yeah Ronnie. At last we’ve got ourselves back on the map.’
‘Thanks to Ken.’
‘Yeah, I guess.’
‘Good load on board too. Do you reckon he’s brought everything?’
‘Don’t think so. There were a lot of tanks on order, and a couple of small sheds. Where do you reckon the driver is? Still sleeping?’
‘Dreaming with the fairies, more like. What kind of a guy is called Angel anyway?’
‘Could be an Italian, you know, as in “Angelo”.’
Angela straightened up as the two men, one tall and one short, came round the front of the truck.
‘Well, well, well,’ the short one said. ‘This Angel fellow’s one lucky son of a gun. He’s brought the missus with him.’
The reason behind her father’s vagueness now hit Angela with a thud.
The rogue
Similar Books
