We reached the boundary fence of Jarra Jarra shortly after six and a few minutes later I drove into the homestead, blaring the horn as I stopped under the big Mexican poinciana trees, my spirits still buoyed up by all the beer we had drunk. And when Janet came out to see what all the racket was about, I shouted to her that it was fixed — we had a rig and we were going to drill. ‘With luck you’ll have a new mine for Easter.’ And I picked her up and swung her round. ‘We’ll call it Coondewanna.’ I would have kissed her then, but she was stiff and wooden, no answering spark to my own excitement, and when I let her go I saw her eyes were sullen, her face flushed. ‘Can’t you understand what I’ve been telling you?’ I demanded.
‘You’re drunk,’ she said, and she looked as though she were on the verge of tears.
‘What the hell’s the matter? Where’s your father?’ At least he’d appreciate what I had achieved.
‘He’s had to go to Port Hedland again.’
‘Port Hedland?’ I felt suddenly deflated, the beer and the excitement drained out of me, everything flat. ‘Why?’
‘About the Watersnake. They’ve found our cattle there and they’re insisting we clear them off the Pukara at once.’
‘So what? Can’t you understand? If we strike the reef, the cattle don’t matter.’
‘But they do matter,’ she snapped. And she added with slow emphasis. ‘This is a cattle station and if we have to move them they’ll die.’
‘Then you get some more. If that’s what you want. We strike that reef at the head of the gully …’
‘You stupid, insensitive bastard — can’t you understand? Her voice was shrill, her eyes flashing. ‘We sweated our guts out to save those animals. They’ve got water now. They’re alive.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said. I hadn’t thought of it that way. ‘It was just that I couldn’t think of anything …’
‘And there’s something else.’ The sullen, angry look was back in her eyes. ‘Rosalind’s here.’
It didn’t register for a moment. ‘Rosalind?’ I stared at her. ‘You mean she’s here — come all this way …’
She nodded dumbly.
‘But why?’
‘To see you, I imagine.’
So that was it. It wasn’t the cattle, but Rosa’s arrival that had upset her. ‘How did she get here?’
‘By plane. She came up from Perth yesterday and one of the Mount Newman men drove her over last night.’
The world seemed suddenly a much more complicated place. ‘Where is she now?’
‘Gone for a walk, I think.’ And she added with a trace of bitterness, ‘While I cook some sort of a dinner.’
‘Does she know I’m here?’
‘No. How could she?’
‘In Australia, I mean.’
‘Of course.’
‘You told her?’
She stared at me, those prominent eyes of hers very wide. ‘I said you’d gone to Kalgoorlie. Why? What did you expect me to say when your wife turns up out of the blue asking for you?’
So Rosa had guessed it was phoney — that I hadn’t died in that fire. But to come all this way … There didn’t seem any point. Or couldn’t she bear the thought of one man escaping her? ‘What’s she want?’ I demanded.
But Janet didn’t answer. She just stared at me for a moment, her eyes brimming with tears, and then she turned abruptly and walked back into the house, leaving me standing there.
‘What’s the trouble?’ Kennie asked.
‘Nothing,’ I muttered. ‘My wife’s turned up, that’s all.’ I got my gear out of the Land-Rover and went to my room, feeling dazed and suddenly tired. What the hell did she want? I lit a cigarette and sat on the bed trying to work it out. Rosa! Here. My body was suddenly trembling. I felt hot, conscious of the stale smell of sweat and my shirt sticking to my back. To come all this way on the off-chance…. But why? I lay back on the bed and closed my eyes.
I was on my third cigarette and still unwashed when Kennie put his head round the door to tell me supper was ready. ‘You all right?’
‘Yes, of course I’m all right.’ He looked so bloody clean, a fresh shirt and his hair slicked down with water. ‘Why?’
‘Well, I don’t know.’ He was staring at me uncertainly. ‘When a man’s wife turns up …’
‘Where is she now?’
‘Waiting for you — in the cook house. Janet, too. I’ll tell them you’re coming, shall I?’
I nodded and swung my legs off the bed. ‘Yes.’ It would be awkward in front of Janet, but the moment had to be faced. ‘I won’t be a minute.’ I had a quick wash and changed my shirt, and then I went down the passage into candlelight and an atmosphere of tension that reminded me of Drym. Rosalind was reclining in one of the cane chairs smoking a cigarette. She didn’t move as I came in, only her eyes, those large dark luminous.eyes. She looked cool in a neat, close-fitting linen frock, cut low to emphasize her breasts. Her breasts were just as I remembered them, small and firm, and the dark sheen of her hair falling about her face. The long slim legs were carefully arranged. By God, I thought, she did it well. And Janet, the silly little idiot, wearing a flouncy dress that was much too fussy instead of the practical simplicity of her hardworn jeans.
I stood there for a moment staring at my wife, our eyes locked and the other two waiting. What did they expect — a conventional greeting? ‘I thought you said you’d never go to Australia.’
‘I changed my mind.’ She was smiling.
‘So I see. Who paid for the flight — not your father surely?’
‘No. The insurance.’
So she’d got the insurance, and now that she knew I was alive … ‘So you changed your mind. Why?’
The dark eyes gleamed. Was it amusement, or something else? What the hell did she want? ‘I was curious, that’s all.’ That husky, almost throaty voice, so suited to the dark glow of a cocktail bar. Here it seemed strangely out of place. And yet … My legs felt weak, an ache growing deep inside me. Damn her! Damn her to hell! She always knew when I wanted her. I pulled myself together and went over and kissed her on the cheek. The same perfume and her hand on mine, a touch that was a promise of more intimate caresses. ‘You haven’t changed,’ she said. ‘And you’re still very much alive, aren’t you?’ The gleam in her eyes was sheer devilry. And then she looked across at Janet and in a cool voice said, ‘If we can’t have a drink, shall we feed? Now that we’re all here.’
The girl’s cheeks flamed. ‘If you like.’ She looked across at me, her eyes pleading. ‘There’s no beer, you see — they drank it all that night.’
‘I’ve a bottle of Scotch in the Land-Rover,’ I said.
She looked relieved and without waiting to be asked Kennie went and got it. The Scotch helped, but it was an uncomfortable meal. I couldn’t help thinking of the last dinner party we had held at Drym, the furniture all good pieces and gleaming in the candlelight, silver on the table and Chateau Beychevel ‘57 to go with the Diane. Right to the end we had done things in style, keeping up appearances. Here there was no style, everything run down and the old homestead haunted by memories and the reek of better days. Yet Drym was gone, Balavedra bankrupt, where here, in spite of everything, the house continued, a piece of Australian history that might yet come to life again if the Golden Soak reef continued.
I looked at Rosa, wondering what she was thinking as she sat there talking to Kennie and drinking Janet’s instant coffee. She was so cool and composed, so very elegant — and that low-cut dress catching Kennie’s wandering eye. Was she, too, comparing this with Drym? The candles, almost burned out now, were beginning to gutter. In the uneven light I caught her eyes and she smiled. But there was no warmth in it, just amusement. And I wondered again what the hell had brought her all this way, Janet rose and snuffed out one of the candles. Moonlight filtered through the gaps in the hessian. ‘So romantic,’ Rosa murmured in her huskiest voice. ‘If you had pot plants here we might be in a rather primitive conservatory.’ Her words conjured visions of English country houses.