Purple Roads Read online

  Fleur McDonald lives on a large farm east of Esperance in Western Australia, where she and her husband Anthony produce prime lambs and cattle, run an Angus cattle and White Suffolk stud and produce a small amount of crops. They have two children, Rochelle and Hayden. Fleur snatches time for her writing in between helping on the farm. Purple Roads is her third novel.

  www.fleurmcdonald.com

  Also by Fleur McDonald

  Red Dust

  Blue Skies

  Purple

  Roads

  FLEUR

  McDONALD

  First published in 2012

  Copyright © Fleur McDonald 2012

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher.

  The Australian Copyright Act 1968 (the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or 10 per cent of this book, whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to Copyright Agency Limited (CAL) under the Act.

  Arena Books, an imprint of

  Allen & Unwin, Sydney, Melbourne, Auckland, London

  83 Alexander Street

  Crows Nest NSW 2065

  Australia

  Phone: (61 2) 8425 0100

  Fax: (61 2) 9906 2218

  Email: [email protected]

  Web: www.allenandunwin.com

  Cataloguing-in-Publication details are available

  from the National Library of Australia

  www.trove.nla.gov.au

  ISBN 978 1 74237 481 9

  Typeset in 13/17.5 pt ITC Garamond by Midland Typesetters, Australia

  Printed and bound in Australia by Griffin Press

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  To my very own ‘Road Train Man’, my dad,

  John Parnell, and the amazing woman behind

  him, my mum June. Extraordinary parents.

  To Anthony, Rochelle and Hayden: without you,

  I would be nothing.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Acknowledgements

  Prologue

  The streetlight threw a pale circle of light onto the road, but beyond its edge the night was dark. Sandy shrank deeper into the shadows to avoid the men chasing him.

  He could hear their feet, pounding against the pavement, their panting breaths and urgent shouts.

  ‘This way, I saw him go this way!’

  ‘No! He ducked down the side street!’

  A thorn was pushing into his thigh but he didn’t dare shift position in case the movement alerted his pursuers to his hiding spot. He smiled as he thought he heard their footsteps start to fade. He knew the area better than anyone.

  Six years on the streets had made him shrewd. At sixteen, he knew where the warmest doorways were, where he could get clothes from and the soup kitchens that would feed him without asking questions. He knew to trust no one.

  The pain in his thigh worsened and he felt the thorn pierce his skin. Blood seeped through his flimsy tracksuit pants.

  ‘I trusted you! How could you do that?’ The words from years ago echoed from somewhere deep inside him. Confused, Sandy shook his head. Where had that come from? He couldn’t allow those thoughts in.

  He wouldn’t allow them in.

  But despite his determination, still they kept coming, softly at first, then louder and louder. Recollections as clear as yesterday forced their way back, making him forget the worrying footfalls, as he absent-mindedly ran his fingers over the scar on his forehead. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop the words.

  Suddenly a hand firmly grasped his shoulder and yanked him out of the bush.

  ‘I’ve been looking for you,’ a voice from the past said.

  As Sandy looked into the face of his captor, the memories weren’t memories anymore. They were real.

  ‘Uncle Jimmy,’ he said without thinking. The walls he had built while living on the street crumbled. He was an eight-year-old boy again in the arms of someone he loved. ‘Uncle Jimmy.’ The words came out as a sob.

  ‘Come on, lad; let’s get you outta here, hey? We’ve got a business to run. Together.’

  Chapter 1

  The CD player changed to one of Matt’s favourite songs and he sang along softly, glancing down at the speedometer and then across to check the temperature gauge. Everything was as it should be, but the truck didn’t feel right. It was pulling too hard. The terrain wasn’t steep, so what was the problem?

  The song died on his lips as he looked in the rearview mirror and saw a glow coming from the front trailer. Tapping his brakes, he watched in horror as sparks shot out from the drive wheels of the prime mover and a gush of flames from the tyres suddenly lit the darkness.

  He needed to stop. He needed to stop now, but it took time for his big rumbling rig to slow – time Matt didn’t have.

  Reefing the handle open before the truck came to a halt, he jumped to the ground and ran to unhook the back trailer. Sprinting back to the cab, Matt revved the engine hard and tried to drag the front trailer away from the back, but the engine stalled.

  ‘Please, no,’ he begged, turning the key again, trying to control the fear and panic welling up inside him. As the engine roared to life, he floored the accelerator and the truck bunny-hopped forward. Finally, with the brakes locked on and the tyres burning, he managed to move the large machine, leaving deep skid marks in the gravel behind him.

  Flames were spreading quickly, licking at the back of the cab. The heat was so intense he knew he wouldn’t be able to unhook it – he just hoped he’d be able to save most of the sheep he was carting.

  With smoke growing thicker with each passing moment, he took a deep breath, plunged into the haze and felt for the back of the trailer. Unpinning the door and lowering the ramp, he raced into the crate, trying to turn the heads of the startled ewes and push them out of harm’s way. They were scared and uncooperative, but just when he thought he wouldn’t be able to get any out, they took fright and started to bolt from the truck into the darkness, with Matt following behind the stragglers.

  He ran down the ramp and once again assessed the situation, his stomach constricting as he glanced towards the cab and saw the fire creeping towards the fuel tan
ks. The oil from the diff would be fuelling it now. He thought briefly of the fire extinguisher, but there was no time.

  A set of lights appeared down the road and within seconds a rusty ute pulled up. An old man got out, grabbed a shovel from the tray and started throwing sand onto the flames. But it was too late. The flames had reached the diesel tanks.

  Burning plastic, rubber and diesel hurled deep, black smoke into the night sky with a loud whoomph. Both men threw their hands up to protect their faces and backed away from the fire.

  ‘All right, mate?’ the older man asked after the explosion.

  Matt could only nod, unable to speak around the lump in his throat. Then bile surged up into his mouth and he fell to his knees, vomiting and shaking.

  The man pulled him up gently and led him to the ute.

  ‘Sit here,’ he instructed and Matt, dazed, did as he was told. Shortly after, he felt a blanket being draped over his shoulders. ‘Not much we can do until daybreak,’ the man said. ‘I’ll call for some more help,’ and took a mobile from his pocket.

  A while later with the calls made, the man reappeared and handed Matt a cup of sweet tea he’d poured from a flask. He urged him to drink. Matt’s hands trembled so violently the tea slopped over the rim. The scald hardly registered but he let the man take the cup from him and hold it to his mouth.

  ‘How am I going to tell her?’ he kept saying, over and over. All he could think of was his future – and that of his family – lying in the charred ashes on the road. It took a little while before he realised that the guttural moans he could hear came from himself.

  When the phone call came at 3.21 in the morning it didn’t wake her. Anna was already awake, having just been up to the toddler. Alarmed at first, she had snatched up the receiver only to relax when she realised it was her husband. Frowning at his garbled words she said, ‘Slow down, hon. I can’t understand what you’re saying. What’s wrong?’

  ‘Accident,’ Matt gasped. ‘I’ve had an accident. Truck fire. It’s all gone.’

  Shocked, Anna was still for a moment, before a hidden force made her shoot from the chair and pace around the living room, wildly combing her hands through her hair.

  ‘Are you okay?’ she managed. ‘What about the sheep? The truck?’ Questions tumbled from her mouth before she could stop them.

  ‘It’s all gone,’ Matt whispered. ‘All gone.’

  ‘Where are you?’ she asked.

  ‘McKenna’s Creek, north of Orroroo.’

  ‘I’ll be there as quickly as I can.’ She went to hang up the phone, then added, ‘Matt, I love you. It’ll be okay. Everything will be fine, honey.’ But she said it to dead air.

  Quietly, so as not to wake Ella, she went into the kitchen to make a thermos of coffee and some sandwiches. She grabbed the last bar of chocolate, packed it all into a tin tuckerbox, carried it out to her beat-up dual cab, and threw it into the tray. Making sure the ute was out of gear she started the engine and flicked on the air conditioner.

  Anna jogged back to the house for Ella. As she walked through the kitchen, the sleeping toddler over her shoulder, she glanced around, hoping that she had everything for the emergency. Then she walked out of the house, pulling the door shut behind her.

  As Anna carefully laid Ella in the car seat, the child opened her eyes and took a breath, looking like she was about to cry. Grabbing a dummy from her back pocket, Anna popped it in Ella’s mouth before she had a chance to let out a squeal and talked to her softly, stroking her cheek.

  Ella sucked hard and her eyes began to close once more.

  Pushing the door shut quietly, Anna breathed a sigh of relief. A long trip with a crying child didn’t hold much appeal for her tonight. Ella should sleep now. The car’s movement would see to that.

  Looking over to Bindy, the old kelpie, watching from her hessian bag near the front door, she said: ‘Keep an eye on things, old girl,’ before getting into the ute and shoving it into gear. Switching the headlights to high beam, she followed the drive out onto the main road, swung the car to the right and headed north.

  Music played softly as she drove past the darkened farmland; she pictured the scene in daylight: paddock after paddock of golden wheat and barley stubbles which weren’t as thick as they needed to be to make money.

  After five years of bad seasons, Matt’s accident could be the last straw. For a moment the road blurred in front of her as hot tears welled in her eyes. She imagined the bank foreclosing, a clearing sale and the loss of the farm. But just as quickly, she filed those thoughts in the back of her mind. The most important thing was that Matt wasn’t hurt. Together they could make it through anything – they always had.

  As the first light kissed the horizon, Anna slowed the car to a crawl, for the grey kangaroos were the same colour as the cassia bushes and to hit one would cause more problems than they already had.

  She drove on until the farming land and bitumen gave way to the deep purple dirt roads of the mid-north of South Australia and the sun had risen high in the sky. The stony red ground which now surrounded her was dotted with small scrubby bushes and tall gum trees that lined the deep creeks crisscrossing the country.

  Finally she spotted a wisp of smoke. A few kilometres further on, she saw several bewildered ewes wandering along the road. Rounding a corner, she saw a pile of dead sheep, blood oozing from their noses and a cloud of black, buzzing flies crawling over the carcasses. A little further on were the burnt-out remains of a truck, surrounded by lots of utes and cars.

  As she pulled up in a cloud of dust Anna saw that the men in the distance and scrub land were mustering the surviving sheep. Other helpers were dragging the dead ones off the trailers and throwing them onto piles.The only man not moving was Matt, who was watching, silent and still.

  Chapter 2

  Three months later

  The gentle sound of drizzle on the tin roof woke Anna. At first she lay still, wondering what the noise was, and then listened with relief as it grew heavier.

  Even though it had been forecast, she’d tried not to get her hopes up. Both she and Matt were sick of listening to weather predictions which were so often proved wrong. Whenever the forecast rain failed to eventuate, Matt would stomp around the house, cursing the weathermen, the country and anyone who was close by.

  And no matter how many requests Anna sent to her mother, who she was sure was watching over them, the skies had remained a steadfast blue.

  But tonight, judging by the slow, steady drumming on the roof, the opening rains had arrived. She turned over, snuggled into Matt and lay there with her eyes closed, enjoying the sound. ‘Thanks, Mum,’ she thought.‘This is just what we need.’

  After about five minutes, she woke Matt so he could listen too.

  Together, they lay silently, their arms wrapped around each other, their bodies tingling with anticipation and their minds full of hope and churning with the jobs there’d be to do in the morning.

  Matt and Anna’s farm, ‘Manna’, was about ten kilometres to the north of Spalding and in the heart of crop-growing country.The road frontage land was flat and open, but as you went deeper into the farm, it backed onto undulating hills.The Broughton River ran around the base of these hills and had brought life to dry and parched land. When the rains had been constant the river had flowed freely. Reeds and grasses had grown in abundance. But now it was a dirty trickle and, in some places, it didn’t even flow; it was just a series of stagnant puddles.

  Gum trees grew sparsely, and even though the country lacked anything in the way of bushes and trees, in a few places the native pines had put down roots. In the broad-acre paddocks that didn’t have crops sown in, deep stock pads cut through the paddock to watering and feeding points.

  Matt had been servicing his seeding machinery in hope of a good opening break, and with the rains which had come over the past days, it now seemed his optimism had been rewarded.

  ***

  ‘It’s one of the best opening rains we’ve had in ye
ars, Bill,’ said Matt. ‘We’ve already had three days of rain, four inches, and according to the long-range forecast, there’s more to come.’ Matt paused. ‘Could I make an appointment to see you today and work through another budget? I’d like to add in a bit more cropping.’

  Anna couldn’t hear the bank manager’s voice on the other end of the phone so she watched her husband’s face for a reaction. When he grinned and punched the air with a clenched fist, relief washed through her. Smiling, she turned away to tend to Ella, who was lying in front of the fire, her chubby legs waving in the air.

  ‘Let’s get this nappy on before you have an accident all over the carpet,’ Anna cooed, gently pulling her little girl towards her. Ella grinned and tried to crawl away, all the time gurgling in toddler language as Anna stroked her downy hair. It was strawberry-blonde; in this she took after her mother and grandmother.

  Anna expertly finished fastening the nappy, savouring her husband’s voice, which sounded alive, full of expectancy and hope.

  ‘No worries, Bill. I’ll see you at twelve then.’

  Matt put the phone down and whooped, then ran over and grabbed Anna around the waist, pulled her up and danced her around the room. Laughing, Anna felt a buzz of excitement course through her, enjoying seeing him so happy. This rain meant there would be lush green crops, the heads of wheat full and plump – and, most importantly, they finally had the chance to build up a healthy bank balance. That would mean Matt could give up driving his dad’s borrowed truck; he wouldn’t have to work nights and she would have her happy, fun-loving husband back – not the shell of a man he’d been since the accident three months earlier.

  She knew she really shouldn’t be thinking so far ahead. After all, they still needed many more inches of rain to achieve their goal. But after five bad seasons her sense of optimism was all that was keeping her going.

  Five years of heartbreak. Late breaks, false breaks and the rain just drying up when it was needed most. Too many times they’d had to watch their crops wither, their souls crumbling a little more with every rain front that passed them by. Year after year, Matt had turned the sheep onto their crops in the hope of at least getting some small return out of their investment.