Emerald Springs Page 8

  Amelia let the conversation flow around her and looked over the room. Her gaze came to rest on her brother and Danielle—she hadn’t seen them come in. They were at the bar, chatting to Mike and Tony. She watched them for a moment: Dani tossing her hair and Graham, his head on an angle, smiling at her.

  ‘Like two peas in a pod,’ Chelle said in her ear. ‘Both out to get what they can from that arrangement.’

  ‘I think Graham loves her in his own way,’ Amelia answered, glancing back over at the happy couple. Danielle caught her eye, but quickly looked away.

  ‘Graham doesn’t know how to love anyone but himself,’ Chelle said.

  ‘That’s a bit harsh, Chelle.’ Amelia turned to her, surprised.

  ‘He’s my cousin, I can say what I like about him. There’s no doctor/patient confidentiality there!’

  ‘Good point.’ Amelia paused before going on thoughtfully. ‘You know, Dani is still so young. I don’t think she realises what’s going to hit her. And that’s mostly Mum’s fault, you know. All the things Graham expects will be pretty hard on Dani.’

  ‘Too true.’

  They turned their attention to Will and Chrissie, who were getting on like a house on fire, and shared a smile. How nice it would be if Chrissie could connect with someone; she’d just been through a terrible break-up with her long-term partner.

  Amelia was about to get up to go to the loo when someone walked past and bumped the back of her chair. Her lemonade spilt into her lap. ‘Oh, bloody hell!’

  ‘Sorry. Oh bugger, sorry.’

  Amelia looked up to see Dave carrying a plate of salad and a beer.

  ‘No worries,’ she said, and grabbed a handful of serviettes to wipe her jeans. ‘Hey, did you find the Guild place?’

  He looked sharply at her, seeming a bit uncomfortable. She could tell he was trying to work out how he knew her—then she remembered that they’d never actually met! ‘Sorry,’ she said, blushing, ‘I was at the roadhouse yesterday, working in the kitchen. You were chatting to my Aunty Kim.’

  ‘Oh, right.’ Dave coloured a little. ‘I didn’t know anyone was there.’

  ‘I told Kim she was rude not to introduce me!’ Amelia said, grinning. Then she noticed her friends were looking curiously at her and Dave. ‘I’m Amelia Bennett, by the way.’ She offered her hand. ‘This is Chelle, Chrissie and Will.’

  Kim’s old flame nodded. ‘I’d shake your hand, but I’m sort of full,’ he said, raising his beer and plate. ‘I’m Dave Burrows, Adelaide Metro Police.’

  ‘Really?’ Will’s eyebrows went up. ‘What’s happening in our area?’ He leaned back in his chair, staring at Dave with interest. ‘Haven’t heard of anything.’

  ‘Oh, I heard something on the Country Hour, back a bit,’ Amelia said. ‘About fuel going . . .’ She stopped mid-sentence. ‘Is that why you wanted to know where the Guilds lived? Have they been done over?’

  Dave smiled blandly, not giving anything away. She could tell he was good at his job. ‘I’m here to run a community forum on rural theft and its prevention.’

  ‘Sounds interesting,’ Chelle said, reaching for her glass. ‘Is there much rural theft going on?’

  ‘You’re welcome to join us,’ said Amelia, smiling. ‘Pull up a chair!’

  Dave shook his head. ‘Thanks for the offer, but I’ve got to get an early night. You’ll have to come to the forum to find out all about it. Maybe you could help spread the word?’

  ‘Happy to,’ Will piped up. ‘What are the details?’

  ‘I can do you one better,’ Amelia said. ‘I’m in charge of all the media for the upcoming rodeo. Send me the info and I’ll do up some flyers, and you can stick them around town. Happy to help a friend of Aunty Kim’s.’

  Dave glanced at her with a bemused expression. ‘Would you really? That would be brilliant.’ He put her number and email address into his phone.

  ‘Leave it with me,’ she said. ‘I’ll drop them off with Kim to give to you.’

  ‘Right. Thanks very much. Well, nice meeting you.’

  She nodded and grinned, and he headed off to eat.

  Chrissie smacked Amelia’s arm. ‘As if you haven’t got enough to do!’

  Amelia smiled self-consciously and hoisted one of her shoulders. She wanted to send Dave in Kim’s direction, but didn’t want to gossip to her friends about it—the vault went both ways. ‘I like helping, you guys know that.’ She looked at her watch and yawned. ‘I’ve got to eat. Ready to order?’

  ‘I sure am,’ Chrissie answered. ‘You going to eat with us, Will?’

  He gave her a slow grin. ‘That’d be great.’

  Chelle raised a knowing eyebrow at Amelia and she had to stifle a laugh.

  When their meals came and Amelia dug into her big chicken parma, talk turned to the rodeo.

  ‘Do you need a hand with anything, Amelia?’ Will asked. ‘I said to Mum I’d help out on the night if there was anything needing to be done.’

  ‘Um, not that I can think of at the moment. I’ll let you know if I . . . Oh, yeah! I do have a job for you.’ Amelia slapped her forehead. ‘Could you act as my second escort when I drive the takings to Torrica? It’ll be just after midnight. Gus will be with me, and Paul was going to help, but he’s got to be in Adelaide. It would put my mind at rest to have two blokes. I wish I could ask your brothers or the other security bloke, but their company doesn’t allow them any responsibility for money, unfortunately.’

  ‘Yeah, guess they’ve got to cover their arses. And of course I’ll help out! Shouldn’t be a problem, and I’ll be around all night.’

  ‘Thanks, that’ll be a huge help. I’d really hate for something to go wrong.’

  Will laughed and shook his head at her. ‘What could go wrong?’

  ‘I just don’t want anything to happen on my watch.’

  ‘After saying I wanted to party, I reckon I’ve blown out,’ Amelia confessed, when she’d polished off her parma and chips. She always got so sleepy after a big meal—and she was wishing her jeans weren’t so tight! Grabbing her jacket from the back of her chair, she smiled at her friends and said, ‘I’m heading home.’

  ‘I’d better too,’ said Chelle with a sigh. ‘I’m on call tomorrow afternoon.’

  Chrissie looked at Will out of the corner of her eye. ‘I think I might stay for a bit,’ she said, and smiled.

  They all said their goodbyes, then Chelle and Amelia linked arms and walked into the cool night air. Amelia shielded her eyes from the bright lights of the car park and pulled her keys from her jacket pocket. ‘Want me to drop you home?’ she asked.

  ‘Nah, I’ll walk. Clear my head. Pubs always get so hot and stuffy.’

  ‘Well, guess I’ll see you when I’m looking at you then. Thanks for tonight.’

  Amelia hugged Chelle and headed to her car. Instead of getting straight in, she leaned against it and threw her head back, trying to catch sight of the stars. They weren’t as bright here because of the streetlights, but she could still make out the Southern Cross and Saucepan. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and let her body relax. She wanted to be calm before she headed home.

  A man’s voice filtered through the night. ‘We do what we want to do and nothing you say will change it. Nothing.’ There was menace in his tone and Amelia froze, holding her breath.

  Silence. Was he gone? She didn’t want to hang around and find out. Sliding down behind Pushme, she fumbled as she tried to get her keys into the lock.

  ‘You reckon we’re going to cave in?’ the voice came again and Amelia realised he was probably on the phone. Or talking to himself. ‘No show. None whatsoever. Listen to me again. Fuck off. We are the ones in charge, not you.’

  She heard footsteps, leather soles clicking on the bitumen. They came towards her then changed direction. At last they faded steadily into the darkness.

  Without looking around, she finally managed to jam the key into the lock. She jerked open the door, slid into the car and then locked herself
in. Pushme smelt comfortingly familiar and she closed her eyes, taking deep breaths. Her heart was pounding, although she didn’t really know why. Just some bloke with a bee in his bonnet, she told herself. With Pushme in gear, she drove out of the car park, keeping her eyes peeled. But she didn’t see anyone.

  Chapter 9

  Amelia slipped out of the house an hour earlier than usual and threw on her running shoes. It was Friday morning—Paul would be coming to dinner, and she wanted some extra running and thinking time to clear her head before the inevitable awkwardness.

  Each morning was a little crisper than the last and she could see her breath as she puffed outwards. The flock of galahs, the ones she always startled, flew up in the distance; she watched them swoop and glide until they settled in a large gumtree and started to decimate its leaves. They were so destructive, but she did love them. Every time they screamed it reminded her she was home. It was a much better noise than the hum of traffic from her tiny flat in Adelaide.

  Her mind turned to the upcoming meal, checking off all the ingredients she’d bought the day before. She was pretty sure she’d got everything after dropping Dave’s community forum flyers at Kim’s. She was determined to do the cooking so she didn’t have to listen to Natalie’s complaints about all the trouble she was being put to.

  Then there was the rodeo. Only one more sleep. She’d spend today in the camping grounds, making absolutely sure she hadn’t missed anything. The committee didn’t want to be having to unblock septics when they needed to be at the event.

  Amelia was halfway around her track when she slowed to a walk. The gates to Emerald Springs were in front of her. Struck by an irresistible urge, and reminding herself that she had a bit more time, she climbed over and headed into the bush, looking for the path. The track was so overgrown that there was nothing to see, but she knew it by heart and pushed her way through the bush towards the first pool, leaving a trail of broken branches and crushed shrubs behind her.

  It was a solid half an hour’s walk. When she felt the first piece of granite beneath her foot, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply. The bottlebrushes weren’t flowering, but they still had their own special scent that permeated the bush. Wattle birds and silvereyes flicked from tree to tree, and the Mickey minors put up a huge warning call as she passed their perch in the branches.

  As she approached the first pool, she could see that it was almost empty. The puddle was covered in green algae and looked very unappealing, but a rain would fix that in no time. She followed the overflow until she came to the second, slightly deeper pool. After looking at it for a while, she picked up a pebble and threw it into the middle, trying to gauge the depth. It had to be around her knees, because she could see the slimy patch of stone where it still trickled, flowing into the main pool.

  Holding her breath in anticipation, Amelia turned and kept going. Ducking under some straggly trees and climbing down into the crevice, she could hear water dripping. Then she saw the main pool. It was just how she remembered it—shaded in parts, sunny in others, edged with granite except for one tiny area, which almost looked like a beach. Grainy black sand framed the section that had been used to walk out into the water. Unlike in the smaller pools, the liquid here was crystal clear, reflecting the trees and hills. About six metres wide and a couple of metres across, it was a natural swimming hole.

  Amelia slipped off her shoes and socks and dipped her toes. Brr. Then, without stopping to think, she stripped naked and slipped into the cold water. She was covered in goosebumps, but that didn’t stop her diving under.

  ‘Far out!’ She broke the surface and took jagged breaths, doing a couple of strokes before flipping onto her back to stare at the sky. Drifting gently, she let her mind go blank for a few minutes. No dinner, no rodeo, just peace and contentment.

  A few minutes later, she waded back to the edge. Shivering, she used her shirt to dry off before getting dressed. Then she glanced at her watch; it was definitely time to start back, and she’d have to hoof it. But her plan had worked a treat: the anxiety had gone. Her head was clear as the water, and her heart lighter.

  Knives and forks clinked against the plates as everyone ate in silence. Amelia glanced at Paul, who seemed to be concentrating hard on his roast lamb. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her mother’s mouth pursed in disapproval. Graham wasn’t looking anywhere except his plate.

  John cleared his throat. ‘So, Paul, I guess you’re hoping for an opening rain pretty soon?’

  Paul swallowed, nodding. ‘If it doesn’t happen in the next couple of weeks, I’m going to have to look at buying in more lupins. The sheep are holding their condition pretty well, though.’

  ‘Understand what you’re saying. Our haystack is going down at a rapid rate of knots.’ He put his fork down and leaned back in his chair, casting his eyes between Paul and Amelia. ‘So, tell us more about your plans to move in together.’

  Amelia looked up and smiled. Trust her dad to just go ahead and bring it up again. The stilted conversation over drinks on the lawn before they’d sat down to dinner had led to her breaking the news in a not-so-gentle manner, and she hadn’t been sure if they’d discuss it any more that evening.

  Her mother looked up. ‘I am loath to try and change your mind, Amelia. I know how headstrong and stubborn you can be, but . . .’

  Amelia felt Paul’s eyes on her and looked at him. His expression of horror made her smile inside. She gave a slight shake of her head in a ‘don’t worry about it’ signal, then turned her full attention to her mother.

  ‘. . . surely you’re not serious? This all seems rather sudden.’ Natalie took a gulp of her wine as if it was the only way she could go on. ‘Unless of course there is a reason behind it?’ She looked steadily at Amelia.

  Graham coughed and grabbed his beer to try and cover it.

  ‘Now, Natalie—’ John began, a look of thunder crossing his face.

  ‘Excuse me?’ Paul spoke at the same time as John and half-rose from the table.

  ‘No, Dad, please, it’s fine!’ Amelia held up her hand, then reached across the table to grasp Paul’s arm. ‘Sit down, babe,’ she said quietly. He frowned, but did as she asked. Then, keeping her voice even, she said, ‘That was pretty uncalled for, Mum. There isn’t a reason other than we love each other and want to be together. It’s not just about moving in, it’s about forever. We’re getting engaged too.’ There were congratulatory murmurs from her father and Graham. John reached over to shake Paul’s hand.

  ‘Well, it just seems so very quick to me,’ Natalie blustered, raising her chin defiantly and twirling her wineglass between long, manicured fingers. ‘I didn’t realise it had gotten so serious. Why didn’t you say something before now?’

  ‘We wanted to keep it to ourselves until we were ready,’ said Paul, reaching over to squeeze Amelia’s hand. ‘And we needed an indoor loo!’

  Amelia grinned at him and squeezed back. She wished her mother had taken a bit more interest in her life, and not just in Graham and Dani’s looming engagement party. She hadn’t expected congratulations from her mother so she wasn’t surprised by her reaction. But she also knew that Natalie’s reaction to the news probably had more to do with her own problems than anything else. Amelia was sure her mother had things that she’d wanted but hadn’t managed to do—dreams she’d never followed.

  ‘When do you think you might move?’ Graham asked.

  ‘Some time after the rodeo tomorrow,’ said Amelia.

  Paul spoke up. ‘I have to go away tomorrow morning for a few days, down to Adelaide, but we’ll work around that.’

  Graham nodded and thought a moment. ‘Well, I guess you won’t have time to do the books once you go, Milly? Maybe you could start showing Dani the office.’

  John leaned forward and eyed his son sternly. ‘Graham, I won’t tell you again: that job is Amelia’s until she doesn’t want it anymore.’

  ‘Of course I understand that, Dad,’ Graham began, ‘but . . .’


  ‘No buts. That’s how it is.’ Then John’s face softened and he turned to Paul. ‘Now we certainly seem to be showing you our dirty laundry! I apologise for that. Let’s start off again.’ He looked at everyone around the table, an eyebrow raised, and Amelia felt a rush of love for her dad, giving him a grateful smile. He was the one who stood up for her and loved her without question. She was sure she’d disappointed him at times—after all, no one was perfect, least of all her—but he’d always been there and he’d never put her down, even after the little Henry Marshall incident.

  ‘So, Paul, tell me more about your farm.’ John rested his elbows on the table and fixed Paul with a friendly gaze.

  ‘Eastern Edge has been in my family for two generations. There’s six thousand hectares and I run the same as everyone else in the district: sheep, crops and a few cattle. It’s fairly run down, but I’m working on that.’

  ‘I’m sure you are.’ John nodded encouragingly. ‘How many sheep?’

  ‘About eight thousand.’

  ‘Rams?’

  ‘White Suffolks mainly, put them over merino ewes for crossbred lambs.’

  ‘Gee, the lamb market is looking good for this year, isn’t it?’ John grinned. ‘Been a few years since the outlook has been so decent.’

  ‘Yeah, I reckon,’ Graham put in. ‘Pity the wool market’s just fallen through the floor. Really going to affect the price I get on my wool this year.’

  ‘Swings and roundabouts, lad, swings and roundabouts. That’s what farming is all about.’

  Amelia let the blokes talk, glad Paul was getting on so well. She collected the plates and cutlery while Natalie picked up the glasses, and they walked to the kitchen together. Amelia realised too late that she’d backed herself into a corner. As she laid the plates by the sink, she wondered about possible escape routes—but there was no way out. She’d have to talk to her mother.

  ‘I’m just concerned for you, darling,’ Natalie said, shutting the door firmly behind her. ‘I hear that house is very run down. I can’t see how you would be happy out there. You weren’t raised in a tip!’