Читать книгу Bangalore - Roger Crook - Страница 8

Came the Dawn.

The soft grey light of dawn was creeping across the morning landscape. Pat was half-awake, in that nether land between being awake and being asleep. Then the phone rang in the hallway and she sat bolt upright. When she got there, pulling the robe that Alice had provided around her, Rachael, blanket around her shoulders, was talking to whoever was on the other end. Ali was by her side. She watched Rachael’s face for any hint of what might be being said. Rachael didn’t look at her. Angus joined them and she didn’t look at him either.

Eventually she said, “All right, thanks, I’ve got all that. Will you tell your people over there that I am a doctor and if they can give a more detailed report I will explain it to my family and Pat, in layman’s language?” She listened to the reply with an impassive face. “Good. Shall we say in about four hours, that’s around nine o’clock?” Again a short reply. Rachael waited and then said, “Rachael, Rachael Sinclair. Bye.”

Rachael turned to face them. Instead of giving them the news she said, “Ali, be a darling and go and put the kettle on in the kitchen; this calls for big mugs of tea. When you’ve done that, slip over and get Alice. She should be here. I’ll go and get Mum and Roddy. They must be awake.” As she finished, Michelle and Roddy appeared, as did Alice saying, “I’ve been in the kitchen for the last hour and the kettle is boiling.”

When they had congregated in the kitchen and as Alice was making the tea Rachael gave them the news. She tried to smile and communicate confidence but it was evident to them all that the news was not good. “The report says that Ewen is gravely ill. He has broken bones from the crash but the survivors all say that they owe their lives to him. As far as they can determine so far, he has a gunshot wound to his lower leg and the other leg is broken. They suspect there has been some internal bleeding. He is very weak from exposure and has lost a lot of blood. At the moment they are trying to stabilise him so that they can conduct more detailed examinations. He’s had a lot of powerful painkillers so he is only semi-conscious. They are trying to determine if he has suffered any head or spine injuries. He is suffering from concussion. They are doing head x-rays.”

It was Angus who spoke first. “Rach, in plain language, what does gravely ill mean?”

She looked at him. She’d had to do this before when people she didn’t know had rushed to casualty after being told by the police that their loved one had been in a road crash, frightened people grappling with their emotions. Now it was different. She was one of them – it was her family.

Her reply was as soft and gentle as she could make it. “It means, Dad, that they are probably fighting to keep him alive. The injuries he has are serious; he may have others that they don’t know about. The injuries they know about would have been serious enough if he had been treated straightaway, but after over a week out there largely untreated, in shock, in the cold and at altitude, being thrown around on a makeshift stretcher… I gathered the eight who were uninjured carried the two injured for over 40 kilometres, which is quite amazing.”

Michelle was wide eyed as the reality of what Rachael had said gripped her with fear. In as strong a voice as she could muster she asked, “When he’s been stabilised, what happens then?”

“I don’t know, Mum. I can’t tell with the little we know. I would imagine that…I don’t know anything about the hospital in Kabul.”

“It’s a military field hospital, very well equipped to deal with the seriously injured, but they get them out of there as soon as they can, mostly in less than twelve hours. They get evacuated to the US Military Hospital at Landstuhl. It’s about 120 kilometres west of Mannheim in Germany.” Pat had spoken with authority and the attention turned to her.

Angus spoke first. “Why Germany, Pat?”

“It’s a lot closer than Australia and we, as part of NATO, have an agreement with them for our casualties that cannot be flown to Australia, for whatever reason. The American medical infrastructure is the best there is. It’s a huge hospital at Landstuhl – they specialise in battle injuries; they’ve had a lot of practice. All the American casualties from Iraq went there, as do those from Afghanistan. Ewen will have the best care that’s available anywhere in the world.”

They stood there, not wanting to look at each other, not wanting the thoughts, the terror that might be in their eyes, to be seen by the others.

Alice, who had been standing by the stove, was the first to break the silence. In a quiet voice, but with some authority, she took control. “There’s nothing that we can do but wait. I know that’s obvious but it is the truth. Waiting is not going to be easy. My Ewen... Ewen, would want everyone to take care of themselves and each other, that’s what he’d want. You are all going to need as much strength as you can muster.

“I’ve made tea, I found the tin you brought down, Michelle, so I've made coffee as well; I’ve cut some bread. If anyone wants toast, you just need to pop it in. Everything else is on the table in the breakfast room, cereals, and fruit. I’m going back to my room to…to pray for the dear boy. It’s all I can do for him. I wish to God there were more.” Her voice was starting to break with emotion. Angus looked at her standing straight and erect with tears rolling down her cheeks. He’d never seen Alice cry before; now he had seen it twice on consecutive days. He went to her and put his arms around her as the others watched. For just a moment she let him hold her, then she pushed him gently away. “I’ll be back at eight-thirty.” Wiping her eyes, she left them.

Rachael and Ali started pouring tea and coffee and handing it round. Michelle was crying again and she let Roddy help her away saying that she was going to have a shower before breakfast. Pat looked for Angus and couldn’t see him.

She found him on the veranda, sitting on a cane sofa looking at the dawn sky. Without looking at her he patted the cushion beside him, “Come and sit with me, Pat.” She sat beside him. Still without looking he said, “I thought it would be you, the others…well, they have someone to talk to. Rachael will want to talk to Ali…Michelle and Roddy…well Michelle…It’s hard this business, isn’t it? How are you? Silly question I’m sorry. You must be devastated.” She could see that he was struggling for words. He didn’t look at her.

“It might sound how I don’t want it to sound, Angus, but I think I’ve had too long to think about it. In some ways I was expecting it…that Ewen was one of the casualties. These days, communications from the field are very good, like I told you…when we didn’t get good news I was expecting the worst. In some ways I’m relieved that he’s only injured; I thought he might be dead.”

“Why didn’t you say?”

“There was no point…if I’d said something and then been wrong, you might have thought of me as alarmist. It would have been unfair to worry everybody unnecessarily, so I kept it to myself.”

“That was brave of you. What do you think will happen now?” She saw his knuckles were white as he tightly gripped his mug of tea. He didn’t like his own question.

“I have little experience, Angus. All I can tell you is what we would do and that is stabilise and evacuate. Those are the rules. The Americans are very good at that sort of thing.”

“I suppose they are. As we said before they’re getting plenty of practice. I suppose that’s the reality, isn’t it? Over there, in the States, thousands of miles away from Iraq and Afghanistan, there are hundreds of people just like us, getting news just like us, some of it immeasurably worse. Losing loved ones in a war, for a cause that they don’t really understand…Full military honours…It must be hard if you are a farmer in the mid-west or a single black mother in Harlem.” He still hadn’t looked at her; he hadn’t taken his eyes off the distant skyline as it was changing from pink to pale blue.

“Do you want more tea, Angus?”

As he held his mug out to her she thought she would see Ewen again in his father’s eyes, but she didn’t. Ewen would have been different if he had been there. He would have given a quick unemotional appraisal of the situation, usually followed by a frank summary and then tell everyone to just get on with whatever it was that had to done. That was his strength and his weakness. He had a steeliness sometimes, a recklessness that could frighten her. Was that what she’d fallen in love with, Ewen the warrior?

In Angus’ eyes she’d seen none of that. What she had seen was a softness and mounting confusion. A father being brutally confronted by a reality that was hurting him and he knew he was helpless; there was nothing he could do. She smiled at him with as much confidence as she could muster in spite of the mounting lump in her throat. He tried to return her smile and couldn’t. Fighting for control, he pursed his lips, shrugged with almost resignation and looked away.

In the kitchen she found Rachael making another pot of tea. “Is Dad with you?”

“Yes, he’s out on the veranda.”

“How is he?”

“He’s… He looks like he’s hanging on, I think, Rachael. He’s shocked. He looks…confused.”

“Poor darling. Dad’s not good at this sort of thing. He can cope with anything on Bangalore better than anybody – cyclones, flood and tempest, drought, Dad has the strength, but coping with this sort of thing gets easier with practice, I’ve found, and that’s something he’s never had living out here.”

Now Pat could see Ewen, not in his father but in his sister. Straight, matter-of-fact, even blunt. Rachael the doctor. The doctor who lives every day, with the joy and the tragedy of life. Pat stood looking at her not knowing what to say. Rachael looked up from pouring the water into the pot and saw in Patricia’s eyes what she was thinking. She put the kettle back on the stove, looked down at her feet and sighed, looked up and walked over and put her arms around her. “I’m sorry, Pat. I didn’t mean it to sound like that. Alice is crying and praying. Ali has gone quiet and gone to feed his horses. He’s very upset. Mum has gone to get showered and when she comes out she’ll…well she’ll be Mum. We’re not used to this sort of thing, you know, this family of mine. We can fight over nothing…fight with great strength. Now we have to come together and forget all that.”

“I’ll take Angus another cup of tea.”

Pat gave Angus his mug of tea and again sat down on the sofa next to him. Even though it was still early in the morning the heat was building; it was going to be a hot day. The rain from the day before had changed the smell of the garden. There was little breeze so the humidity was high, the scent of the Frangipani hung in the air and combined with wet leaves and bark lying and now drying under the eucalypts there was cleanness in the air. Pat put her arm through Angus’ and gently squeezed his forearm and left her hand there. His arm was cool. She looked at her slim fingers, pale in comparison to his dark tan. Her well-manicured fingers contrasted with his scarred and sinewy forearm. His hands were big and calloused, the hands of a workingman. Not like Ewen’s, slim like a pianist’s.

The sprinklers popped up on the far side of the lawn creating little rainbows in the morning sun. In spite of the drama and the intense emotion of the last twenty-four hours there was a peace and quiet about the place. She was glad that she was there, not just because she was with Ewen’s family, but also because she was away from the noise, bustle, rumour and gossip of the base, away from the city traffic, away from the flat that she and Ewen shared. When she went back, as she must, she wondered how she would handle it all.

Rachael came out and said that news of the incident, as it was being called, had been on the radio. No names, just that two had been injured. She’d looked at the TV news and there was just a mention, same thing, no names. She went back inside.

Pat hadn’t thought about the inevitability, the intrusion of press coverage. Now she thought of grave-faced politicians on television giving their opinions. She hoped none of them would see this as an opportunity to criticise the government and the Prime Minister, saying things like “Our brave boys have no place being there. It’s the government’s fault”. Ewen wouldn’t like that. Most of them, the politicians, had never been there, there in Afghanistan anyway. They didn’t know what it was like. They hadn’t seen what the Taliban had done to women and children, to their own people, all in the name of Allah.

The flywire door banged behind them and stopped her wonderings. Pat looked up; Michelle with Roddy at her side was looking down at them sitting close together on the sofa. Michelle was showered and changed. Her hair was drawn straight back and clipped behind her ears. Her face was pale and without a hint of the careful makeup of the previous day. When she spoke her voice was a little shrill. “Angus.” When he didn’t look at her, she said again, “Angus!” He looked at her, expressionless, and for a moment she hesitated and looked at her hands and then, looking back at Angus and speaking quickly, she said, “Angus, Roddy and I have decided to go back to Perth after we get the phone call this morning. There is nothing that we can do here. I’ve decided that I will talk to whomever in the army when I get back to Perth, and find out if I can go to Germany if that is where they take Ewen, to be with him. I’m sure I can, go to Germany, I mean, I’m sure there must be hotels in Mannheim, hopefully closer, Roddy is going to find out. What are you going to do?”

Angus stood up as if not to give Michelle the opportunity to talk down to him. Speaking gently he replied, “I honestly haven’t thought about it, Michelle. I was just waiting to see what they have to say at nine o’clock or whenever they ring and make some plans after that. It sounds like we will have to handle the intrusion of the press in our lives once names are released. No doubt all sorts of experts and commentators on television and radio, not to mention the papers, will have their two bobs’ worth on the politics of the thing.”

Roddy asked, “Would you like my firm to handle that for you, Angus? We do have an expert on staff.”

“Thanks, Roddy. Wouldn’t that just make it worse though? You know ‘a spokesperson for the family said’. From what I’ve seen on television, what they want with this sort of thing are pictures, stories, something to feed to the masses.”

“Roddy’s only trying to help Angus,” snapped Michelle, sounding defensive and exasperated.

Again speaking gently and looking at her, trying to diffuse what was beginning to look like her mounting anger, Angus said, “I know, Michelle, and I’m not being ungrateful. It’s very generous of Roddy. What I want to do is wait and see what happens in the next twenty-four hours or so.”

“Will you come to Germany as well?” Now she was getting angry and louder.

“Of course I will. That’s a silly question! What I’m trying to say is that we need – no –sorry – you may not, but I need, more information than I have at present. For all we know, right now, it might be good news we get or it might not; it might be worse.”

“Whether it’s good or bad, why should that affect your decision?”

“It doesn’t. What I’m trying to say is…”

“That you can’t make up your mind!” The anger showed.

Angus turned his back on her. Pat could see that he was upset and it looked as if he was getting angry as well. Michelle was tormenting him. Before she could think of what to do, Rachael joined them. “What’s going on? I could hear raised voices in the kitchen…Dad, what’s wrong?”

Calm again, his anger gone, he turned. “Nothing, Rachael. Nothing at all. Your mother and I were just discussing going to Germany.”

“Well, my advice is to wait. Wait and see what the next report is and then wait for the one after that. Wait until you get a full and detailed report. Then make up your mind. Remember it’s too early to judge, but Ewen is quite likely to be in hospital for a long time and even for you, Mum, there must be a limit to the time you can spend in Germany. On the other hand, he may be home in a matter of weeks. Right now, nobody knows.”

“Well I’m going, Rachael, as soon as we hear he’s been taken to Germany, if that’s where he’s going. I’m not going to wait. Roddy and I are going to Perth later this morning. Then I can make arrangements. What are you going to do? Are you coming home with me?”

“I have a week off, more if I want it. I rang the hospital half an hour ago and sorted that out. I’ll stay here, I’d like to spend some time just mucking around. I can always drive back with Pat, or if necessary all three of us can fly down in Bessie if there’s an emergency, but in my experience these things unfold slowly, often over days once the initial trauma is under control. It’s only like it is on television for a very short time.”

“And you and your father have been talking.”

Calmly but with an air of resignation Rachael said, “No we haven’t, Mother; that we agree is coincidence. Now if anyone wants breakfast, it’s ready. I’m going to have scrambled eggs, which is about my culinary limit. If you want bacon there’s plenty in the fridge. All you have to do is chuck it in the pan.”

Breakfast was an eclectic affair. Michelle took a bowl of cereals back to the South Wing. Roddy cooked some bacon for himself and Angus and they joined Rachael in the breakfast room eating scrambled eggs. Pat made some toast and vegemite and a big mug of coffee and sat on her own in the barbeque area outside, glad to be away from what looked like old deep-rooted family feuds and animosity, still festering after all the years.

She’d phoned her father while the others were making their breakfasts in the kitchen. He’d been quiet and sensible as he always was. He told her that he would ring her mother and tell her all the news. His big news was that they had landed a contract that would keep them well occupied for at least two years and it meant some overseas travel, which he was looking forward to. It also meant he was well on his way to getting back financially to where he had been two years previously.

Now she’d seen Angus and Michelle at close quarters, under stress, Pat wondered how they had stayed together for as long as they had. But then, according to Alice, they had been growing apart almost as soon as the first hot flush of marriage had gone. Did Michelle becoming pregnant with Ewen cause that? Only to be followed quite quickly by Rachael?

Michelle couldn’t have been more than twenty-three or four when she found herself, no doubt a beautiful young woman, married with two children all the way out here. Ewen had told her that he and Rachael and Ali had done school-of-the-air with a variety of governesses, none of which were suitable to Michelle. Eventually Alice took over their schooling as well as their care. So probably they had a childhood of no television, just the radio, tapes, vinyl records and books for entertainment. But then of course, they had the biggest playground in the world, Bangalore.

Angus’ parents were still out here then, so Michelle had the in-laws to cope with. That couldn’t have been easy for Michelle, married to the only son of this vast pastoral empire and having to play second fiddle to his mother. Michelle was obviously an impatient lady and Angus’ parents would have had to cope with her tantrums and single mindedness.. Wonder what Angus’ mother is like?

It was Angus sitting down opposite her on the bench by the table that broke her quiet contemplation. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

She smiled. “You didn’t, Angus. I was just day dreaming.”

“You obviously didn’t hear the phone?”

“No, I wasn’t really listening. I thought another hour or so.”

He rested his big arms and hands on the table and looked at her trying to smile, “They rang about five minutes ago. There’s no real change. Rachael took the call. They said Ewen has been put into an induced coma. Rachael says that’s quite normal, probably a good thing. They are concerned that he may have some bleeding in the brain. The report really was that he is still gravely ill; they are worried about the injured leg, the one that’s broken. The other leg is okay. They don’t want to move him until they are sure that he can stand up to the journey. They say that will be another twelve hours at least and they won’t ring again until this time to-morrow unless there is some real news. Oh yes, when they move him it will be to Germany and yes, he will be allowed visitors. There is some short stay accommodation on the base and there are several hotels nearby. The names of the injured will be released at…” he looked at his watch. “By now, the press will now have names and the army, or the ADF, or whoever does it, will have issued a press release.”

“It’s like Rachael said then, these things take time.”

“Looks like it, doesn’t it?”

“I was hoping that we might get better news. I feel so helpless…”

“You mean being out here? You can go with Michelle and Roddy if you want. Rachael and I will get your car down to you. We could probably get it on one of those vehicle-transporters from Carnarvon. That wouldn’t be any trouble. I have a car in Perth at my parents’ that you could use until we got yours down there.”

“No, I didn’t mean out here, Angus. I just meant being so far away from Ewen. But I suppose if Ewen was in Perth there wouldn’t be anything that we could do except wait. No, I’m glad I’m here, like I said, I like the peace and quiet; it’s something new for me.”

“Some people from the city can’t stand it. A couple of days at the most, being without their mobile phones and text messages, seems to drive them crazy. We even had a young lad out here who went around all day with an ‘IPod’ or whatever you call them, plugged into his ears all day – hated the quiet.”

“It’s strange, I haven’t missed my mobile phone one little bit, yet back in Perth I was never without it. I could even talk to Ewen while I was sitting in a café having coffee and he was thousands of kilometres away…” As Pat had been talking Angus noticed that her bottom lip had started to tremble and as her voice trailed away she looked away from him, tears welling again in her eyes.

He reached over the table and took her hand. He’d never felt comfortable in the presence of emotion, especially when women cried; he’d never been able to handle it. Yet now, now he could see this girl, this young woman opposite him doing her best to be brave because her lover, his only son, was in some hospital in Afghanistan…

“Pat?”

She looked at him, blinking back the tears.

“Pat, it’s not supposed to sound like I’m sure it will, but we have a long way to go with all of this…it’s only just starting.” It was the best he could do.

She covered his hand with her other hand and tried to smile and found she couldn’t. She looked up at him across the table and into his dark eyes. They sat there looking at each other; the need to talk had gone.

Angus noticed how small, soft and cool her hand was resting on the back of his. How she gently moved her thumb almost stroking the back of his hand. He heard footsteps approaching along the veranda and gently took his hand away from under hers and noticed that she didn’t stop looking at him. As Michelle came around the corner of the house, she looked away.

“Angus, Roddy and I are ready for off; have you heard the weather forecast today?”

“No. Why?”

“There’s a cyclone brewing north-west of Wyndham. The tracking predictions are that it will go west and then curve and come down the coast.”

“We haven’t had a decent cyclone for years. It’s three or four days before we will feel any effect if it does decide to come down the coast.”

“Don’t you think Patricia should leave? She could finish up being stranded here for weeks if the creeks come down.”

“Hardly weeks, Michelle, but we’ll keep an eye on it. Same thing applies to Rachael, I suppose. She only has a week off.”

“I tried to find her to tell her but Alice says she’s gone off riding with Ali. He’s been schooling some horses that he’s just broken in, so she could be anywhere.” Michelle was obviously exasperated again, unable to exert any influence on her daughter and she made no secret that she didn’t approve of Rachael going off with Ali. Angus just looked at her impassively.

Angus got up. “I’ll run you out to the plane. You coming for the ride, Pat?”

As they drove to the airstrip Roddy asked, “Thought any more about cattle, Angus?”

“Think about it all the time, Roddy; the wool market looks a lot better this time. We have another two hundred bales in the next auction, the last of last year’s clip. Father will go down there again as he always does.”

Michelle interrupted from the back, “Why don’t you just make the decision, Angus? You know it’s the best thing. I hear everyone is moving out of sheep.” Again she sounded exasperated.

“Not that easy, Michelle, you know that. The Old Man and his father and his father before him have all run sheep out here. It would be hard on him if I sold them all.”

“But it’s you that has to make a living out here, not your father; he’s got enough for five lifetimes for goodness sake!”

Roddy asked, “Are the cattle available?”

“Oh yes. Be a bit of a challenge getting what we would need, but they are out there.”

“Sheep prices good?”

“Not bad. Looks like the export wether trade is good and mutton prices are better than they’ve ever been. If this cyclone comes down we will have them all in good order in a few months.” Angus turned and smiled at Roddy with an air of resignation. “Maybe that will help me make the decision. Still don’t know how I’ll tell the Old Man though.”

“He knows what’s going on, Angus,” Roddy said smiling. “We met them, or at least they were at the same art gallery function as us a couple of weeks ago, and during the drinks and nibbles session later he told me he was optimistic at the recent rises. He had all the numbers at his fingertips. We didn’t discuss Bangalore directly, but he did say he knew sheep numbers were dwindling in this country. I think he keeps in touch with what’s going on through his club and the Pastoralists and Graziers.”

“He does. I know that. He still attends meetings, I think. He reads everything he gets from the P & G, he reads the rural press and I know he talks with the wool brokers all the time.”

Michelle and Pat were sitting in the back of the Mercedes and Michelle joined in the conversation. Again her voice had a shrillness about it and she made no effort to hide her exasperation. “Well, you must do something, Angus. Everyone in town is saying that wool is finished. Why, I heard the other day that there is more money in trapping wild goats than there is in sheep. You should get Ali out there catching the damn things instead of spending all his time with his precious horses!”

Angus didn’t turn round to look at her. “The traps are set, Michelle; that’s what he was doing last week. The truck is coming on Tuesday. We think we should have three hundred by then. I told him to work the horses, so he’s not just playing around on some recreational pursuit; we will need them for mustering the breakaway country at shearing. We do know what we are doing.

“I have three dog teams out there now. They are keeping the wild dogs under some control, so we are keeping the sheep in good order. Don’t know where I would be if it wasn’t for some of the old Aboriginal families who enjoy being out there.”

Michelle dismissed Angus’ comments on wild dog control as if they didn’t matter.

“Well, I hope Ali knows what he’s doing with those horses. We don’t want Rachael having a fall. That would be all that we would need right now!” Angus didn’t reply.

They pushed the gleaming white Cessna out of the hangar and while Roddy did his pre-flight checks Michelle watched Angus and Pat stow Roddy’s and her luggage in the rear locker and on the back seats. She made no move to help them.

The checks complete Roddy smiled and shook Angus by the hand. “All complete, Angus. We’ll give you a ring when we get there.” With genuine affection he kissed Pat on the cheek and gave her a hug. “Chin up, Pat, give me a ring when you are in town. I’d like you to have a turn in this plane and tell me what you think. Saturday or Sunday is a good time for me.”

“Thanks, Roddy. I’d like that.”

Michelle kissed Angus on the cheek but otherwise didn’t touch him. She turned to Pat, looked at her and then, as if it required an effort, gave her a kiss and what could have passed for a hug. She didn’t speak to either of them.

Pat and Angus watched the Cessna taxi out to the end of the runway and turn into what little breeze there was. The pitch of the engine changed as Roddy opened the throttle and let the brakes off. The plane accelerated quickly and after what seemed only a few hundred metres it was airborne and climbing quickly to the north. Then he banked steeply and flew back over the landing strip now heading south and for Perth. As he passed them he dipped his wings.

Pat and Angus were still standing, side-by-side, almost touching. They watched the plane until it was a speck in the sky and then it disappeared. Pat became aware that Angus had made no effort to move so she stood quietly by his side. The heat of the day combined with the rain from the thunderstorms made the atmosphere oppressive, stifling. She could feel the perspiration running down her back and between her breasts.

She realised that in the rush of the morning she’d forgotten to put her bra on. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d forgotten, probably never.

Her mother had insisted she wear a bra as soon as puberty had set in. Like all teenagers Pat had fought her mother when it came to clothes, but her mother had always won. Loose jeans. Loose shirts not tee-shirts.

In the Air Force, the dress code imposed by her mother had stood her in good stead. She remembered her mother’s words: “Clothes must be appropriate for the occasion, Patricia. People judge you by what you wear – always remember that.”

Now she was standing, barefoot in the red dirt, dressed in a pair of Rachael’s frayed denim shorts that had started their life as jeans and a very old tee-shirt with ‘Trust me I’m a doctor’ just discernible on the front. Bareheaded and without a bra and feeling a freedom that she had never felt before. And there was no one to judge her.

Angus was motionless and still looking at the horizon, the vast red landscape that stretched out before them. Then, without looking at her, he started to speak. “You know, I’ve never been far away from this place. Perth…Sydney and Melbourne a couple of times…Went to South Africa once to look at some merinos but I was on my own in a big group of married couples so it wasn’t much fun. I was glad to get home. Went to Bali once with a girlfriend –lady friend really – hated it. We had a row and I came home and left her there…never saw her again.

“I’ve been trying, standing here in this vast placid landscape, to imagine what it’s like to be a combat soldier these days, flying in a war zone as desolate and barren, exposed to the enemy as it is in Afghanistan. I’ve been trying to imagine what it’s like to be my son – trying to get in touch with him somehow…I can’t…he’s out there somewhere…in a coma…in a bed in an ICU, in a plane with tubes sticking out all over him…maybe he’s dying…maybe he’s already…I feel helpless. He and I have never been as close as say, Rach and I.

“He’s always been so driven. I hardly got a chance to know him with him being at school in Perth, and then he was in the army. I was thinking, they were only with me until they were about twelve; then all I saw of them was for about three…four months a year. Hardly enough time to get to know him as a boy…I don’t know him as a man – he’s almost a stranger – yet he’s my son…”

Angus’ voice trailed away and he stood still, looking into the distance and ignoring the flies that clung to every drop of moisture round his eyes and mouth. Pat looked at him and saw tears trickling down his face; he was making no effort to brush them away. Before Pat could speak Angus continued. “If there isn’t time to make up for the years…I don’t know what I will do…I just feel so helpless…”

Pat moved her hand the few centimetres between them and took his hand in hers and squeezed it gently. His big calloused hand remained limp so she raised it to her lips and gently kissed it. He still didn’t move. “C’mon Angus, let’s go and get a cup of tea.” Still hand in hand she led him to the waiting Mercedes. She opened the passenger door for him and without a murmur he got in and she shut the door.

When she started the car the cool air from the air conditioner wafted over them. Angus took a big red handkerchief from his pocket wiped his eyes and blew his nose. When Pat looked at him the agony from a few moments ago had gone from his face and he was looking at her with a half-smile. He reached over and brushed her face with his hand, “Thanks Pat.” When he took his hand away she wanted to follow it. Instead she put the car in gear and set off down the track to the homestead. As she drove she felt calm and for some reason that she didn’t understand, in spite of all the turmoil that was starting to engulf them, she felt free, a freedom of what – her soul? Her spirit? She didn’t know.

All she knew was that since arriving at Bangalore she had started some kind of metamorphosis and it wasn’t finished. She thought of a caterpillar turning into a butterfly. Was that it? Instead of flying in a machine, was she going to learn to fly – free? Had her life so far been that of a caterpillar? A butterfly in a caterpillar’s skin, just waiting for time to pass and the right conditions to wrap herself in a cocoon and then emerge as a different creature, unrecognisable from the previous life. Was that it? Whatever it is, she thought, I’m powerless against it out here in this vast place, close to something very gentle, yet raw and powerful.

Three hundred metres away, sitting on their horses under a couple of big gum trees Rachael and Ali had been watching Pat and Angus. Because of the dark windows on the Mercedes the only bit they had missed was the moment of brief intimacy when Angus had touched Pat’s cheek.

Ali and Rachael were both wearing jeans, riding boots, old shirts and big stockman’s hats. Their eyes were shaded from each other. Rachael broke the silence. “Well – what did you make of that?”

“Nothing.”

“C’mon, Ali…They were holding hands!”

“He’s a big sensitive man that dad of yours.”

“C’mon, Ali, you saw them. They stood there for what, five minutes? I’m sure she kissed his hand. They were definitely holding hands and she put Dad into the passenger seat and she drove the car!”

“You’re making too much of it, Princess.”

“I don’t think I am.”

“Well, I do.”

“Why? How?”

Ali turned and faced Rachael; he was close to being angry. “Just listen, will you? I’ve spent more time with him than either you or Ewen. I think I know the man as well or better than anyone. We spend our lives together. He doesn’t handle family emotions very well. I remember him when you went missing for a few days in Africa when you were chasing gorillas or something…I found him down by the pool one night…I’m sure he’d been having a bit of a cry. He was the same when he and your mother were finally divorced…it had been going on for years but when it was final…he had a few bad days then. He’s lonely, Rach – in spite of all his good humour, he’s lonely, I reckon. You need to remember he spends a lot of time on his own. Now poor old Ewen is injured and I reckon he must be taking it pretty bad.”

Rachael looked at him; the anger and suspicion had gone out of her voice. “We, no I, forget, don’t I? I’m all wrapped up in my own little world. I just think of him as ‘good old Dad’ doing what he wants to do out here in this beautiful wilderness. I never think of him as being lonely. Are you lonely too, Ali?”

He didn’t answer her. He looked away to where Angus and Pat had been standing.

“Oh Ali…what can I do?”

“Stay close to him, Rach…he can be fragile that giant of a man.”

“What about you, Ali?”

“What about me?”

“You didn’t answer me – are you lonely?”

“You don’t need to ask.”

Rachael took her hat off and shook her hair loose. Now Ali could see her eyes and there were tears running down her cheeks as she looked at him. He took an old handkerchief out of his pocket and gently wiped away her tears. “Put your hat on, Rach. Let’s take these nags back and give them a wash and a feed. It’s getting bloody hot.”

Rachael didn’t move and the tears flowed. “Ali…what can I do?”

“Later, Princess. We will talk later. You know the answer to your question anyway if you really ask yourself – it’s not for me to tell you. But this is not the time or the place to go into it – for the first time in years we have a bit of time. Let’s have a swim this afternoon. I have a couple of watering points to check in the holding paddocks, so if you spend some time with Angus and Pat, I’ll be back about four. See if you can get away on your own.” He urged his horse forward into a walk and Rachael scrunched her hair under her hat and jammed it onto her head and allowed her horse to follow. She nudged it with her heels, caught up with Ali and they rode together.