Once we got to the Landrover it seemed like the others lost any sense of urgency to get home. It was a hot day, humid, with quite a lot of low cloud drifting past. You couldn’t see the coast at all. It was the kind of weather that sapped your energy. That wasn’t really true for me though. I was still a bit uneasy, keen to get back, wanting to check that everything was OK. But I couldn’t force the others to go at my pace. I was affected by Robyn telling me just that morning that I was bossy. I was a bit hurt by that, especially coming from Robyn, who didn’t normally say unkind things. So I kept quiet while everyone lay around in the patchy sunlight, sleeping off the effects of all the food we’d just eaten.
After a while Kevin and Corrie disappeared down the road a way. Homer was lying as close as he dared get to Fi, but she didn’t seem to be taking any notice of him. I talked to Lee a bit, about life in the restaurant. It was interesting. I didn’t realise how hard it was. He said his parents wouldn’t use microwaves or any modern inventions – they still did things in the traditional way – so that meant a lot more work. His father went down to the markets twice a week, leaving at 3.30 in the morning. I didn’t think running a restaurant would suit me, once I heard that.
Eventually, around midafternoon, we got going, picking up Kevin and Corrie down the road a kilometre or so. We lurched our way down at about the same speed as we’d lurched our way up. As we got a better view of the plains we were surprised to see six different fires in the distance, scattered across the countryside. Two looked quite big. It was really too early in the year for major bushfires, but too late for burning off. But that was the only unusual thing we noticed, and none of the fires was remotely close to our places.
At the river there was a majority vote for a swim, so we stopped again for a long time, more than an hour. I was getting quite edgy, but there was nothing I could do to hurry them up. I only swam for five minutes, and Lee didn’t go in at all, so when I came out of the water I sat and talked to him again. After a while I said, ‘I wish they’d get a move on. I’m really keen to get home.’
Lee looked at me and said, ‘Why?’
‘I don’t know. I’m in a funny mood. A bad mood.’
‘Yes, you seem a bit wound up.’
‘Maybe it’s those fires. I can’t figure them out.’
‘But you’ve been uptight most of this hike.’
‘Have I? Yes, I suppose I have. I don’t know why.’
‘It’s strange,’ Lee said slowly, ‘but I feel the same way.’
‘Do you? You don’t show it.’
‘I try not to.’
‘Yes, I believe that.’
‘Maybe it’s guilt,’ I added, after a while. ‘I feel bad about missing the Show. We exhibit there quite a lot. Dad thinks we should support it. It takes ages, grooming stock and getting them in there and brushing and feeding and walking them, and then presenting them. Dad was cool about it, and I did help groom them, but I left him with an awful lot of work.’
‘Do you only take them in there to help keep the Show going?’
‘No ... It’s quite an important show, especially for Charolais. It helps keep your name in front of people, so they realise you’re a serious breeder. You’ve got to be so PR conscious nowadays.’
‘That’s one thing the same about restaurants ... Here they come.’
Sure enough Robyn and Fi, the last two people left in the water, were coming out, dripping and laughing. Fi looked fantastic, flicking her long hair out of her eyes and moving with the grace of a heron. I sneaked a look at Homer. Kevin was talking to him and Homer was trying to act like he was listening, while he stared frantically at Fi out of the corner of his eye. But looking again at Fi, I was sure that she knew. There was something just a bit self-conscious about the way she was walking, and the way she stood there in the cooling sunlight, like a model doing a fashion shoot on a beach. I think she knew, and loved it.
It was about half an hour from the swimming hole to home. I don’t know if I was happy that day – those tense and edgy feelings were getting stronger and stronger – but I do know I’ve never been happy since.
Chapter Six
The dogs were dead. That was my first thought. They didn’t jump around and bark when we drove in, or moan with joy when I ran over to them, like they always had done. They lay beside their little galvanised iron humpies, flies all over them, oblivious to the last warmth of the sun. Their eyes were red and desperate and their snouts were covered with dried froth. I was used to them stretching their chains to their limits – they did that in their manic dancing whenever they saw me coming – but now their chains were stretched and still and there was blood around their necks, where their collars had held. Of the five dogs four were young. They shared a water bucket but somehow they had knocked it over and it lay on its side, dry and empty. I checked them quickly, in horror, one by one: all dead. I ran to Millie, their old mother, whom we’d separated from the young dogs because they irritated her. Her bucket was still standing and held a little water; as I came close to her she suddenly gave a feeble wag of her tail and tried to stand. I was shocked that she was still alive, after I’d made up my mind that she too must be dead.
The rational thing to do would have been to leave her and rush into the house, because I knew that nothing so awful could have happened to the dogs unless something more awful had happened to my parents. But I had already stopped thinking rationally. I slipped Millie’s chain off and the old dog staggered to her feet, then collapsed forward onto her front knees. I decided, brutally, that I couldn’t spend any more time with her. I’d helped her enough. I called to Corrie ‘Do something for the dog’, and started running for the house. Corrie was already moving that way; her mind was working faster than the others, who were still standing around looking shocked, starting to realise that something was wrong but not making the connections that I was making. I was making them too fast, and that was adding to my terror. Corrie hesitated, turned towards the dogs, then called to Kevin, ‘Look after the dogs Kev’. Then she followed me.
In the house nothing was wrong, and that was what was wrong. There was no sign of life at all. Everything was neat and tidy. At that time of day there should have been food spread out on the kitchen table, there should have been dishes in the sink, the TV should have been chattering in the background. But all was silent. Corrie opened the door behind me and came in quietly. ‘Jesus, what’s happened,’ she said, not as a question. The tone of her voice terrified me even more. I just stood there.
‘What’s wrong with the dogs?’ she asked.
‘They’re all dead except Millie, and she’s nearly dead.’
I was looking around for a note, a note to me, but there was nothing.
‘Let’s ring someone,’ she said. ‘Let’s ring my parents.’