|
||
|
|
||
| PAPERBACK BOOKS | ||
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Elizabeth was born in 1970 in a small town on the north coast of New South Wales. She has lived in rural NSW for a large part of her life, and is currently living in rural Victoria with her husband and three young sons. She has worked on the land all her adult life, as well as serving as a NSW Police Officer. She draws on her own experiences, and the places and people she has encountered during the course of her life when writing. All locations are based on places that she knows. She loves the bush and hopes to share some of the bush ways with people who can’t be there. PROLOGUE As
Kate eased herself from the bed she froze when she felt her husband stir. Every
nerve in her body was screaming for release, every muscle was stiff and sore
from lying in the one position without the relaxing oblivion of sleep. She
slipped from the bed as she listened for a change in his muffled snore. Flight
or fight, this was it. If he awoke his rage would be so terrible that Kate
doubted she would live long enough to worry about the outcome. She made it as
far as the bedroom door when she heard her name exit his lips, his whisper
loud and menacing in the silence. Her muscles tensed even more as she slowly turned to face him; she could
never outrun him. Her relieved sigh was audible as she realised he had called
out to her in his sleep. As she stood rooted to the spot she recalled the number
of times he had spoken her name in his sleep, never soft and gentle, never sweet
and loving. Kate straightened
her spine and held her head high, her fear momentarily forgotten. She had her
unborn child to think about. The child was relying on his mother to escape. Kate
felt it accurate to consider her leaving an escape. She moved with
renewed vigour down the hall and straight to the front door. There was no need
to stop for a single thing; she had stashed a bag of basic essentials in
Michael’s cubbyhouse, which stood in the front yard at the side of the garage.
She lifted her car keys silently from the sideboard in the hall as she reached
the foyer and was out the front door just as quietly. She had deliberately left her car in the
drive instead of in the garage. Her story to Robert was that she was going to
rise early and wash it, stating she didn’t want to wake him on a Sunday
morning by getting it out of the shed. Kate made her way to the driver’s door. The key was in the door lock, it was
turning, the button popped up. Kate lifted the handle and threw her bag on the
passenger seat. That was when his bellow hit her like a physical force. ‘And where the hell are you off to?’
Robert was charging through the front door towards her car. A startled scream escaped Kate’s lips as
her eyes flew to his enraged face. She leapt into the driver seat, slamming the
door shut and punching the button down, successfully locking herself in. This wasn’t
much consolation as Robert threw himself at the car and slammed his fist into
the windshield. Kate screamed again. Mercifully the toughened glass withstood
the blow, but he continued to batter the car like a madman. Her brain kicked
into gear to a certain degree and decided it was time to make good her exit.
Every psycho movie she had ever watched flashed before her eyes. Robert yelling
and punching the car until his hand was bleeding, and all Kate could think of
was that he would be angry because she’d forgotten to buy some more antiseptic
cream. And like every pathetic movie heroine that she had cursed and criticised,
Kate was unable to secure the key in the ignition. It was dark, her hands were
shaking with the force of a small earthquake and she was scared to death. ‘God please!’
She shrieked a wild hysterical prayer just as Robert punched the window
by her head, smashing the glass which sprayed into her lap. His big bloody hand
closed around her throat and started to squeeze. Kate was amazed
at the clarity of her thinking. ‘This is it. He is finally going to kill me.’ To her surprise the
terror left her body as an unexpected flash of sense hit her. ‘If I die, my
baby dies. Not this time, not again.’ The key! The key was turning in the
ignition. The engine fired into life. ‘You bitch, I’ll snap your bloody head
off,’ Robert roared, his spittle spraying her face, as he groped for the door
lock. There were little
dark spots in front of her eyes now. ‘Screw you,’ she attempted to yell but
it came out as a dry croak as she dropped the clutch and flew backwards down the
drive. Robert held tight for half a second then he fell and the car bumped over
his leg. His cry of pain wafted through the broken window as Kate’s car hit
the gutter on the far side of the street. First gear came easily, so did the
others as she took off down the street with Robert’s fury echoing in her ears
until she turned the corner. She’d done it, she was out, they were
safe. Kate’s life with Robert Chambers was over. A small hysterical laugh escaped her lips
before she could get a grip. CHAPTER
ONE ‘Here
you go, sweetheart.’ The truckie’s gruff voice was kind. ‘Hope your hubby
ain’t too pissed at ya for bein’ a day late. Guess you can’t help car
trouble but.’ ‘Thanks heaps,
Craig, you’re a life saver, really.’ Craig Barren
blushed, obviously not used to female compliments. His large belly shook under
his blue work singlet as he chuckled. ‘I’m sure he
will understand. He’s a good man.’ Kate hoped her voice didn’t reveal the
uneasiness she was feeling at having to lie to him. I guess after living with
Robert for five years I’ve become pretty good at it, she thought.
After her ordeal with Robert, Kate had torn through the town at breakneck speed.
She had pulled into a service station and attempted to calm herself; driving in
the state she was in would have been suicidal. Availing herself of the outdoor
restrooms, Kate glimpsed herself in the mirror and had been horrified when she
saw that she had blood all over her face. She remembered now the car window
smashing in on her, glass fragmenting everywhere. After washing her face,
several small cuts appeared under the blood. Cleaned up as
best she could, Kate entered the servo, ignoring the curious looks from the
attendant and the few customers. With a cup of coffee steaming in front of her,
she was secure in the knowledge that Robert couldn’t follow her even if he had
tried. She could visualise him stumbling to his car, attempting to start it,
cursing her the whole time. When he turned the key in the ignition he would hear the
engine turning over
and nothing else. Kate had drained the petrol tank then ran it dry in the shed
after she dropped him at the pub that evening. He would return
to the house and convince himself she would come crawling back, begging
forgiveness. He was probably at this moment deciding on her punishment. The
thought of it nearly made Kate throw up. She deliberately returned to the
newspaper she was reading. An advertisement in bold black letters caught her
attention. WANTED:
Governess for three children. Must be willing to live on remote property 3hrs
north-east of Broken Hill, NSW. Some housework involved. Apply Philadelphia Stn,
via Broken Hill. The
idea was crazy but Kate couldn’t get it out of her head. ‘Remote property,
three hours away’. She had grown up and lived in the outback all her life. She
knew what they meant when they said remote, she knew how these things worked.
Robert would expect her to head for Adelaide where her sister lived with her family – that had been her original
plan. He could spend months looking for her there but he wasn’t going to find
her. Kate figured he would never even think to look right under his nose. For as long as
she had known him he had lived in Broken Hill, in the same brick house on a
small plot on the edge of town. He had a
good job in the mines which paid well. They both had their own cars, they didn't
want for anything, they were the perfect couple. Or so it seemed to the outside
world. Robert went to Adelaide regularly, Mildura occasionally and fishing with
his mates at Menindee. That was it. Kate had never known him to go anywhere
else, let alone to a ‘remote’ anything. He hated dust, he hated sheep, he
hated bathing in un-chlorinated water, he hated the bush. She had made up her mind. This was
the answer. Kate had to get
rid of her car. She couldn’t take it with her and she didn’t want anything
attached to her old life to remain with her, only her child. The only ally she could
think of was Amelia,
an Aboriginal
girl Kate had gone
to high school with. They had remained friends, not that Robert knew. He hated
‘her kind’ with a vengeance, but sadly most people did also. Kate drove to her
house, which was with all the other run-down Housing Commission homes, although
it was four in the morning. She pounded on the door, the urgency of the
situation sinking in again. A couple of minutes passed and she was afraid Amelia
wasn’t going to be home. Kate knocked again and nervously looked into the
street behind her. When the door finally opened Amelia stood there in a long
T-shirt, her eyes half shut with sleep, her long dark hair braided off to one
side. Amelia had blue eyes as a lot of half-cast Aborigines did. With her dark
skin she was attractive enough to have been a model. She never would be. ‘What the hell
do you want … Catherine?’ The surprise in her voice as she recognised her
dear friend was evident. Her eyes opened wider and she really looked at Kate.
‘Shit, what the hell happened to you?’ Now she was sounding really scared. ‘Milly! Who the
hell is it? Tell ’em to get lost and come back to bed.’ It was Troy,
Amelia’s husband, calling from the bedroom. ‘Don’t worry
’bout it and go back to sleep,’ she called back. ‘It’s only Kate.
She’s had another barney with that bastard she calls a husband.’ Trust
Amelia to know straight away what was up. ‘Shit, your face is all cut up.’
She put her arm around Kate’s shoulders and ushered her inside. ‘What did he
do this time?’ Her voice was full of anger and concern. ‘He didn’t
touch me. I got away.’ ‘Yeah, well, ya
face tells a different story. When will ya stop coverin’ for the son of a
bitch?’ Amelia led Kate to the bathroom. ‘I swear, he
didn’t touch me, I got away. We’re through.’ It was then Kate looked in
the mirror and realised the cuts on her face were bleeding still. ‘The
window,’ she stated plainly, turning to face Amelia. ‘He smashed the car
window in on me.’ ‘Kate, what the
hell’s goin’ on?’ Amelia sounded scared. She had been through every
‘barney’ right there with her friend. Kate knew she could turn safely to Amelia because Robert was ignorant of
the existence their friendship. As Amelia gently
dabbed antiseptic on her face, which looked a lot worse that it actually was,
Kate related the whole story to her. ‘And that’s
it? It’s over this time? Don’t ya dare go back!’ ‘This is
it! I’m not going back. Besides, I think he really would kill me this
time.’ The gravity in Kate’s voice put fear into Amelia’s eyes as they
hugged each other.
‘Thank God
you’re safe.’ Kate looked in
the mirror once more and saw her hollow white features, lank brown hair, and
pale grey eyes looking back at her. What a mess she had become over the past
five years. Now she had a few shallow cuts to add to the picture. They left the
bathroom and went to the kitchen where Troy, who was now well and truly awake, had put the
kettle on. Kate reflected how he and Amelia had become all too accustomed to her
showing up on their doorstep bruised and battered. At least her
face didn’t look too bad now. ‘G’day, mate.
What’s the prick done this time?’ She welcomed another hug from Troy before
he tilted her face to the light to inspect the cuts. ‘It don’t
matter, she’s through with him. She’s not goin’ back, ever!’ Amelia
added with emphasis as she glared at Kate. ‘Well, it’s
about bloody time. You know you’re too good for ’im. Shit, I’ve told ya
often enough. If it wasn’t for Milly I woulda snatched you up long ago, even
if you ain’t a blackfella.’ ‘And I’ve
told you often enough, what the hell makes ya think
she’d have ya?’ Amelia replied as she dug him in the ribs. Kate couldn’t
help but smile and laugh a little. Every time she showed up they had the same
conversation. ‘I’ll go
an’ put some sheets on the other bed. Ya look like shit, when was the last
time ya slept?’ ‘No, Milly.’
Milly stopped and looked accusingly at Kate. She knew what Milly was thinking.
‘No, I’m not going back but I’m not staying around here either.’ ‘Well, where
the hell are ya goin’ then? You’ll be safe ’ere,’
Milly started to look scared again. ‘I know and I
appreciate it, but I have to leave, I can’t stay here. It’s only a matter of
time before he finds me. I have to shoot through, tonight.’ ‘It ain’t
“tonight”,’ Troy pointed out. ‘It’s almost daylight outside. Why
don’t ya stay, just for t’day?’ ‘I
can’t.’ There were tears in Kate’s eyes as her fear returned. Milly hugged
her gently. She wasn’t used to seeing Kate this agitated about anything. Kate
had always seemed so strong-willed. Milly could never understand why she had put
up with her husband’s abuse for so long. ‘I
have to go now,
I have to get away.’ ‘You’re
right,’ Troy agreed. Thank goodness
they’re going to stand by me, Kate thought, her relief clearly visible. She
needed them to agree, to understand. She knew she could be too easily persuaded
to stay and then … well, then she wouldn’t have a hope. ‘Are ya goin’
t’Adelaide? Have ya got enough money?’ Kate knew with
five kids they didn’t have a cent to spare, and they knew that she knew. This
made Troy’s offer all the more precious. ‘Yes, I’m fine. I’ve been
stashing some away for a rainy day.’ ‘It’ll be
sunshine from here on in,’ Milly assured her. ‘You staying
with your sister in Adelaide?’ Kate let them
believe this was so; it was safer. ‘Mmm.’ She had never lied to Milly before
and she felt guilty for it now. Troy handed them
each a cup of coffee, his own in his hand. ‘Ya know how to contact us if you
need anythin’. Anythin’ at all.’ ‘I know, Troy,
thanks. I have one favour to ask.’ ‘Shoot.’ ‘You still going to Sydney with Badger on
Sunday?’ ‘Yeah. Why?’ ‘I stopped at
the truck stop earlier and organised a lift. I don’t want to take my car. Will
you drive it to Sydney and get rid of it for me?’ ‘I guess. We
were taking the train, but drivin’s cool,’ he added quickly when he saw Kate
was about to withdraw her request. ‘What do ya want me to do with it once I
get there?’ ‘I don’t
know. Sell it, leave it to be stolen, I don’t really care.’ She hadn’t
really thought about it. Kate pulled the registration papers out of her purse.
‘Here, I’ll sign it over to you.’ ‘You sure about
this? What will we do with the money? Post it to your sister’s?’ Milly was
suspicious. ‘No!’
Kate’s reply was too quick but she recovered well. ‘I don’t want any trace
of where I’ve gone, that’s why I want you to take the car. I’ll contact
you and we’ll work something out.’ They were
thinking about it and accepted her explanation. ‘Alright.’
Kate let out the breath she had been holding as Troy answered. Kate sat her
untouched coffee down on the bench. ‘Ya goin’
now?’ Milly asked in astonishment. ‘Milly, I have
to or my ride will leave without me. Can you run me back to the service station?’ She
turned to give Troy a hug as Milly went to put on some pants. ‘Thanks for
everything, you’re a great mate.’ ‘I know and
don’t ya forget it. It’s about time ya got around to doin’ this but if ya
need anythin’ give us a bell.’ ‘You know I
will.’ He released Kate
as Milly returned. Troy kissed his wife on the forehead. ‘If anythin’
happens, if ya see him, get your arses back ’ere straight away. If ’e
follows ya it’ll finally
give me the chance ta kill ’im.’ Both women knew
that he would too. Troy had seen too many of his friends beat up on their wives
and he could not understand it. He had ‘counselled’ them often enough but he
had never been able to get to Robert. Kate would never let him; their friendship
was too valuable to her to take the chance of Robert finding out. Milly drove Kate
to the truck stop. Kate hugged her and jumped out of the car saying only,
‘Make sure you put my car in the shed until Troy leaves.’ Goodbyes were
hard, especially this one. Kate hadn’t lied about securing a lift,
but just not to Adelaide as she had let her friends believe. A driver was heading north and he
had said it didn’t matter if he changed his route a little. Fortunately, he
was well travelled and knew of the property mentioned in the newspaper ad. Now she stood at the entrance to the station called
‘Philadelphia’. ‘See ya,
love,’ Craig called as he drove off, leaving her in a cloud of dust. The
homestead was nestled in a group of trees in the creek bed. It was a short walk
but at eleven-thirty in the morning it was already about thirty-five degrees.
Kate picked up her bag and headed down the short dirt
road which ended at the dry creek bed. The creek had flowed recently and the bed was a cluster
of small, wet sandy mounds. No vehicles had been out since the last rain;
hopefully this meant the owners were at home. It had occurred to her as she was
walking down the road that they might all be out working, but maybe she was in
luck after all. She made slow progress through the creek, which was about fifty
metres wide, typical of the dry creeks up
north which only flowed when it rained. At the other side
of the creek Kate climbed to the top of a three-metre clay levy bank. As she
looked down on the sprawl of the homestead the nervousness she was feeling on
the walk started to settle in again. Facing her was a large deserted workshed,
not a soul in sight, and all the vehicles were gone. Off to the left the
original stone homestead buildings were rotting and falling into disrepair. A
couple of the better ones were being used for storage sheds but the rest were
beyond help – all of them had water level lines on their walls indicating
flood levels of the creek. The levy bank enclosed the entire living area.
Obviously someone had learnt the hard way how badly the creek could flood. Kate
wondered why they built in the creek in the first place but from what she had
seen of the countryside, you had to take shade where you could, as trees were
few and far between. The creek was a veritable oasis. She walked down
the other side of the levy and continued along the drive. To the left several
scrawny working dogs started barking in an excited manner, each one chained to a
peppercorn tree, a bent piece of corrugated iron or an old rusted forty-four
gallon drum fashioned into a kennel for each of them. A black kelpie, red border
collie, red kelpie, a young black pup who
was yapping wildly for some attention, and a
couple of empties. To the right of the road were some more sheds, a pump house,
an assortment of motorbikes and the family car, a twin-cab ute. A motor was
clattering wildly and irregularly somewhere beyond her field of vision. Still no
sign of the inhabitants. As she passed a
small raised building which was probably used as a meat house originally, the
house came into view. It was a typical of a hot climate homestead, large and sprawling
with high ceilings. Another dog with a long, mottled red
coat startled her as it rushed out of the house yard barking and snarling. Kate
wasn’t particularly worried because, as most working dogs will do, it soon
stopped carrying
on and came to greet her, eager for some attention. Over near the
chook pen was a younger dog. She was a clown, running to the end of her tether
then doing a back flip as it pulled tight around her neck. This trick earned a
well-deserved petting session. Up behind the chook pen, on top of the levy bank,
was a small row of workers’ huts – occupied or not, Kate couldn’t
tell. She turned back
towards the house. There were two sets of glass sliding doors and she was unable
to tell which was the main entrance. She decided to try the one with the most
shoes accumulated outside; if it wasn’t the main entrance it was at least used
the most frequently. There was no
response when she knocked or when she opened the door and called out. The door
opened onto a long, wide, cement-floored breezeway which ran the full width of
the building. The walls were painted white but you could make out the pattern of
the original sandstone blocks. As she stepped inside, feeling a trifle guilty,
she could see the breezeway separated the living area from the sleeping area.
There was a fish tank, a divan and a couple of doorways on the right, and a
jumbled collection of coats, shoes and hats, a table and some chairs, a couple
of pot plants, and three doorways on the left. Just past the double glass lounge room doors, at the far end of the breezeway, was a most welcome sight, a cane sleeping lounge. The temptation was too great to resist. Kate hadn’t slept in the last thirty hours and after the oppressive late January heat outside, the house was druggingly cool. She called out once more just to be sure, dropped her bag beside the lounge and lay down on the thin, satin-covered mattress. Sleep brought welcome oblivion. Click on the cart below to purchase this book:
|
||||||||||||
| All
Prices in Australian Dollars CURRENCY
CONVERTER
(c)2005 Zeus Publications All rights reserved. |
