Dreamtime
Copyright
Dreamtime
Copyright © 1983 by Anne Hampson
Cover art, special contents, and electronic edition © 2014 by RosettaBooks LLC
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
Cover jacket design by Alexia Garaventa
ISBN ePub edition: 9780795338953
Chapter One
The sensible thing to do, thought Jane as she allowed her pensive gaze to rest on the rugged face of Paddy Haig, was to get right away, at this early stage, before something drastic happened.
Margaret was a home help in the Australian Outback, on a massive station where thousands upon thousands of cattle roamed the wide spinifex plains. And Margaret was coming home to marry the boy she left behind just over a year ago.
‘I went because I wasn’t sure of my feelings for Doug,’ she had written recently to Jane, her friend from schooldays. ‘But now I know that my heart really wants Doug. But this life out here, Jane, is great, so why don’t you take over my job? I can speak to the Boss, who doesn’t want to lose me and so will readily agree to having someone recommended by me. Jacana Downs is one of the three largest cattle stations in the whole of the Northern Territory and you’d love working here. Think about it and let me know not later than the end of the month as I shall be returning to England about five weeks from now.’
‘What’s the cause of that frowning expression, love?’
Jane had seen Mary approaching—Mary who was engaged to Paddy. She adored him, and it had seemed he had eyes for no one else… until he met Jane….
‘I was deep in thought,’ answered Jane with a forced little smile. ‘Margaret’s written to say she’s coming home and thinks I could have her job if I wanted it.’
‘Her job—out there in the wilds?’ It was Mary’s turn to frown. ‘You’d not like that, Jane.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. It would be a change from the office stool and a temperamental boss.’
‘Don’t go,’ persuasively. ‘You’re part of the crowd and we’d all miss you, just as we missed Margaret when she left.’
At that moment Paddy came up so Jane was spared the problem of finding a suitable answer.
‘Our dance, Jane,’ he said lightly and swung her into his arms. ‘It’s a nice party, isn’t it?’ His face was close; Jane stiffened and tried to move a little.
‘Very good. Bill’s dad must be richer than we thought to give his son a twenty-first like this. The Princess is the most expensive hotel in town.’
‘I know.’ A small pause and then, ‘It’s warm in here, Jane. Let’s go outside for a while. I like the gardens here.’
She stiffened again, and thought of Margaret’s letter.
‘I don’t find it warm,’ she said.
‘Jane…. This situation—’
‘I don’t want to dance any more,’ she broke in sharply. ‘I feel like having something from the buffet table.’ She tried to pull away but his arm was strong about her. ‘You’re engaged to Mary,’ she reminded him in the same sharp tone of voice.
‘Only engaged, not married,’ he returned and there was a sigh in his voice.
‘I’m hungry,’ she insisted. ‘I’m not dancing any more.’
He had no option than to let her go; she walked swiftly to the long buffet table and found herself beside Margaret’s sister, Josie, who said at once that she too had heard from Margaret.
‘She’s coming home and am I glad! I’ve missed her, as you know.’
‘She said she could get me her job.’ Jane was frowning as she helped herself to smoked salmon. To have to go away, so many miles, simply because of the danger facing her and Paddy. That Paddy was fast falling in love with her was evident; as for Jane’s own feelings—well, she had determinedly fought his attraction but knew all the time that she was merely shirking the danger. Mary was far too sweet to be hurt and she, Jane, had not the slightest intention of causing her pain.
‘She did?’ Josie stood away to look at Jane, the fork idle in her hand. ‘What’s her idea, I wonder?’
‘She knows I’m not very happy with my job here, for one thing. Also, when she was going I did say I envied her the adventure.’
‘Will you consider going out there, to that godforsaken wilderness?’ Josie’s gaze was sceptical. It was plain that she was assuming Jane to have more sense than to do what Margaret had done.
‘I am considering it,’ was Jane’s frank response. ‘It could be fun.’
‘Fun!’ Josie grimaced and added, ‘I rather think you’re joking.’
‘It would be different.’
***
‘Not different in the way you’d enjoy,’ stated Josie in firm decisive tones.
‘The experience would add to my education.’ Jane took a roll and pat of butter and put them beside the salmon. ‘I’m of the opinion that I shall let Margaret apply for the job for me.’ It’s the only sensible solution to my problem, she added to herself as Paddy’s large frame came into her line of vision.
She flew to Brisbane where she caught a train for Goulalong in accordance with Margaret’s instructions.
‘At Goulalong you’ll be met by a man called Lanky and his wife, Sue. The Boss wouldn’t send Lanky on his own as he thought you’d be nervous, camping out with a complete stranger, so he’s having Sue come as well. Sue and Lanky are living in one of the bungalows I told you about but you of course will be living in the main house.’ Margaret had added more details about the homestead which was a Georgian-style mansion set on a slight rise overlooking its own well-tended grounds. ‘The MacDonnell Ranges form the only diversion in a landscape of endless miles of grazing grounds. I hope you’ll not become bored, Jane. I soon found that one has to be fairly self-sufficient out here, in what they call the ‘Never-Never’. I ride, and swim in the pool; I take part in all the ‘home-made’ entertainments like gymkhanas, shed dances and film shows. Despite the great distances between the stations we do manage to arrange parties—get-togethers where we meet all the far-flung neighbours, some homely like ourselves and others who put on airs, conscious all the time of their status as great landowners, members of the great squatocracy, the very elite of whom Scott Farnham is one of the ‘top-notchers’! He’s arrogant, and some! Devastatingly good-looking in a tough, Tarzan kind of way! Bronzed and virile! A superb horseman, swims like a fish in his massive pool; dances too, which surprised me because at first glance one would think he was far too superior to take part in the more popular pastimes. He has a girlfriend—daughter of Francis Woolcott, owner of Dermot Waters, the ranch adjoining ours. She’s as superior and arrogant as the Boss and they’ll match to perfection. No love match, I’d say, but they’ll get along for all that. Can’t imagine either of them ever falling in love. The Boss is thirty now and still dallying but it has been rumoured recently that Daphne Woolcott is pushing for an engagement and I reckon the Boss will agree because of the profit involved. Daphne is the only child of Francis and his wife, Laura, so Dermot Waters will eventually be the prize—or compensation!—for the Boss taking on a girl whom many of us don’t care much for. I shall look forward with interest to your opinion of her. You’re rather more than pretty so it could be on the cards that she’ll be jealous, so watch it! She never can bear for Scott even to look at another woman.’
Jane’s thoughts wandered on as she sat comfortably in her seat and stared at the countryside racing past her. The train had passed through the Great Divide before entering the vast terrain of brigalow scrub and acacias—monotonous scenery and yet already Jane was sensing something which was attractive, which created a strange and unfathomable excitement spinning about in her veins. An adventure! And what would it bring? She had told Margaret she would come for a year initially and, if she liked the life, she would stay on indefinitely. She was looking forward to it even though she had been warned by Margaret that not only was the work hard but that the Boss was a stickler for perfection.
‘Do something wrong and you’re for it,’ Margaret wrote. ‘His tongue can lash in spite of that rather attractive Australian drawl that invariably softens a man’s voice. He’ll not spare you if you are ever so unwise as to displease him.’
Jane had grimaced at that, and decided there and then to watch her step with this god-like creature who appeared to rule his vast estate with the magisterial attitude of a feudal lord in the times of Medieval England.
The scenery changed and temperate grasslands predominated for a while. The railway station was reached at long last and it was with a sort of renewed energy that Jane rose from her seat as the train came to a halt.
The couple were there—Lanky, as his nickname implied, being tall and thin and, of course, very toughened by the outdoor life he led as one of Scott Farnham’s stock riders. Sue’s appearance was so different as to be ludicrous, for she was small and plump with rosy cheeks and a happy smile which appeared immediately she saw Jane alighting from the train. Both came forward to introduce themselves. Hands were heartily shaken, appraisals were made all round, smiles exchanged and within seconds—or so it seemed—Jane was perfectly at her ease. And only then did she realise that behind all the excitement there had been a small but nagging worry that things might not start right. Yes, she was a firm believer that if a thing did not start right then there was little hope of its eventual success.
Little did she realise how wrong that philosophy was!
For now, though, all had started right—the train arriving on time, the couple being there on time, and a very reliable car waiting to take her on the last stage of the long—and often tedious—journey.
‘We’ll have to camp tonight,’ Lanky was saying as he and Sue picked up Jane’s biggest suitcases. ‘But Margaret will have told you about that?’
‘Yes, she did.’ Jane was hurrying along with the rest of her luggage, towards the overlanding car where, she noticed, there were water bags fixed to the bumpers. ‘We’ll be in tents?’ She made her voice sound light but she did wonder what she would feel like when darkness dropped on this strange and lonely scene.
‘Under canvas, yes.’ Lanky was stowing away the luggage in the trunk while Jane put her smaller bags onto the back seat of the car. ‘Perhaps you’d like Sue to share your tent?’
‘I—er—think I might prefer that,’ she was forced to admit and the other two laughed a little.
‘There’s absolutely nothing to scare you,’ Sue assured her but added that she would willingly share Jane’s tent if that was what she wanted. Jane thought she would decide later, when darkness was upon them.
They were in the car and speeding along the Bitumen at over ninety miles an hour and Jane just clung to her seat in the back, praying that the ‘perfection’ mentioned by Margaret, and always insisted on by the Boss, applied to Lanky’s driving.
The sun was setting when eventually she heard them talking about making camp for the night. Col-ours of unbelievable variety lit the sky as the great saffron ball slid beneath the rising sphere of the earth—dazzling gold and glittering bronze mingling with delicate mauves and lilacs and gentle pinks and greens.
Jane gasped inwardly as this phenomenon unfolded before her astonished gaze. She felt the long journey she had just undertaken had been worth while if only for this spectacle, which was already being transformed as the purple shades of twilight changed all the shapes around her, softening the atmosphere, making way for the appearance of millions of stars and the starkly defined outline of a crescent moon.
Lanky drew the car off the Highway and soon it was crunching to a halt on the bank of a dry creek bed where coolibah trees lent some shelter, and it was beneath these that the tents were pitched. Food seemed to come along as if by magic, and a beaker of steaming coffee was placed on the groundsheet beside Jane. She was thrilled with the novelty and when the time came for them to settle down she assured the couple that she would be all right on her own in the smaller of the two tents.
***
The road became bumpy and this was a sign that the estate was not too far away. It was almost noon on the day following Jane’s arrival in Goulalong and Lanky said very good time had been made.
‘I knew it was a long way to drive,’ said Jane after he seemed to have adopted an apologetic manner. ‘Margaret had warned me that I’d be more than a full day and night getting to the homestead.’
‘Well, it’ll not be too long now.’ He indicated the surrounding lands. ‘This is the Bush, made up mainly of scrub and eucalyptus. Soon you’ll be seeing the Boss’s cattle and some of his stockmen.’
‘There,’ supplied Sue after another three quarters of an hour had gone by, ‘those men are belonging to our outfit.’
Jane looked at the group of men on horseback who seemed to be crowding around something.
‘What—?’
‘A bore trough,’ explained Sue at once. ‘They’re letting the horses drink. We get water from a vast artesian basin which lies beneath the wilderness of the Inland.’
Jane nodded her head.
‘Margaret told me a lot in her last couple of letters.’
‘We were sorry when she said she was leaving.’
‘She enjoyed being here but she wants to get married.’
‘We asked her to try and persuade her boy-friend to come here and settle.’ Sue gave a sigh of regret at losing her friend.
‘Would Mr. Farnham have found him a job, though?’
‘I expect so. He’s never turned anyone away yet that we know of. Men come along for a night’s kip and often decide they’d like to stay for a while, so the Boss gives them a job. We’re always needing rouseabouts.’
‘Rouseabouts? Margaret never mentioned them.’
‘They do all kinds of jobs around the station—can usually turn their hands to anything. We’ve three here, two Irish and a Scot.’
‘What are their names?’
‘Paddy One and Paddy Two. The Scot’s name is Ian but we call him Jock.’
‘Paddy One and Paddy Two….’ Amusement in Jane’s voice but she was thinking: can’t get away from the name, Paddy.
‘One came a couple of months after the other so someone dubbed them One and Two.’ Lanky paused a moment and then, ‘By the way, don’t go addressing the Boss as Mr. Farnham. We all call him Boss; it’s traditional in the Outback. All station owners are called Boss.’
Jane frowned and said nothing. Sue, as if sensing something amiss, turned her head and regarded Jane’s expression for a space.
‘You don’t like the idea?’
‘Not really.’
‘Well, as Lanky said, it’s traditional so you’ll have to conform. You’ll soon realise that it would sound most odd for you to call him Mr. Farnham when everyone else calls him Boss.’
Jane decided she would avoid addressing him if it were at all possible. She did not suppose, anyway, that he would come into contact with one of his menials working in the kitchen.
‘There’s the homestead,’ Lanky was saying when another few miles had been covered. ‘You can’t see the front from here but it really is impressive. Did Margaret send you a photo of it?’
‘No, but she described the house so well that I feel I’ll not meet with many surprises.’
‘Georgian and elegant both outside and in. The Boss’s grandparents were collectors of antiques; they used to travel all over Europe picking things up. However, I believe the place was cluttered in the end and the Boss’s mother sorted it out. Then the Boss himself has done a bit of culling and Sue thinks the result’s just great.’
‘Everything blends now,’ she told Jane.
‘Are the—er—Boss’s parents dead?’
‘Yes. His mother died about eight years ago—we weren’t here then. And his father died of a heart attack two years last Easter.’
‘Scott had been running the station for a couple of years before then, though,’ inserted Lanky. ‘His father seemed to lose interest and wanted to sit and read all the time.’
‘He was old, though,’ supplied Sue. ‘Seventy-one when he died.’
‘That’s the airstrip you can see over there.’ Lanky made a sweep of his hand. Jane saw the strip, white and brittle in the sunshine. A small airplane stood at one end, wings painted blue and white. ‘The Boss’s plane,’ elucidated Sue unnecessarily. ‘He flies into Winangro at least once a month and if you have shopping to do he’ll let you go along with him.’
‘If there’s room,’ supplemented her husband as he turned the great overlanding car into a wide avenue of casuarina trees.
‘It’s a four-seater,’ said Sue, ‘and so he can take three others with him. You’ll get your turn.’
Jane was not too sure she wanted to go to town with the formidable Boss of Jacana Downs. Already she felt sure they would have nothing in common—he so obviously exalted while she was to be a mere servant in his gracious home. Her thoughts winged to Margaret who seemed to like Scott Farnham despite the fact that she had admitted to his being arrogant and superior. Obviously he had noticed her, because he hadn’t wanted her to leave his employ. And he had thought so much of her that he had readily agreed to employ the girl whom she had recommended to take her place.
‘At last,’ breathed Sue getting out of the car as if she had cramp. ‘Aren’t you tired, Jane?’
‘A little. But the excitement’s kept me alert,’ she added with a little deprecating laugh. Sue looked at her, thinking that she had never seen anyone quite so attractive, and yet so obviously modest regarding her looks. Sue envied her the clear alabaster skin that revealed so intriguingly the blue veins at her temples. The cheek bones were high and delicately formed, the nose upturned just enough to add to the attractions of rosy lips and high wide brow. The eyes were sapphire blue, large and faintly slanting upwards at the outer corners; the hair—perfect foil for the facial beauty—was of deep gold laced with bronze and tawny brown. Long, to her shoulders, it flicked up at the ends and the little quiff at the left temple would always be unruly, thought Sue—and envied Jane that, too. Men would find her interesting—not that there were many men to spare on Jacana Downs, not the kind who would suit Jane, that was. The Boss himself was spoken for but even if he’d been free he’d not have shown the least interest in this girl, lovely as she was. No, the Boss was far too aware of his own superiority to demean himself by noticing one of his employees. Sue’s thoughts drifted momentarily to Daphne and she frowned. Life at Jacana Downs would not be quite the same when she became mistress and Sue was glad that Daphne and Lanky had the bungalow. Like all the others it was some distance from the homestead, one of many which formed what could almost be called a small village since there was a general store, a school and a hospital in addition to the dispensary where one could buy some of the items found in any chemist’s shop. Here one could also get a hair-cut and a shampoo and set if necessary. Anita ran this establishment and her sister did the hairdressing.
A lubra appeared at the door and Lanky spoke to her. Jane was looking up at the imposing Georgian façade with its fine pillars around which trailing plants had found support. The door was high and wide and solid, like the house, thought Jane. She felt happy to be living in such a stately home and a smile was fluttering on her lips as the horse and rider swept into her view.
‘The Boss,’ said Lanky and the next moment he was there, swinging from the horse and a rouseabout had appeared unobtrusively to take the bridle and lead the animal away. Jane stared up into the sun-bitten face of the man for whom she was going to work. Not many surprises, she had said! Well, prepared as she was for this man’s attractiveness she had never visualised anyone quite as superlative as he. Six feet two or three, he towered above her, lithe and muscled with broad shoulders and slender waist and hips. He wore a checked shirt tucked into tight-fitting riding breeches, high boots and a slouch hat which he was tilting to the back of his head. His features, firmly etched, spelled strength of character, his deep-set grey eyes forcefulness and authority. Like some overlord, he seemed to Jane, staring down from his superior height in such a way as to make her feel even smaller than she was. This sensation of inferiority was most unpleasant to say the least, and it was entirely new to Jane who at twenty-three had acquired a fair share of confidence owing to her position of private secretary to the Managing Director of the firm for which she had worked until a week ago. She almost tilted her chin and thought better of it. She did not want to be sacked even before she had started!
‘You had a good journey?’ The voice carried the Australian drawl which was so evident in Lanky’s tone but with Scott it seemed almost clipped. Certainly it was cool.
Yes, thank you,’ returned Jane. ‘The car part was long but interesting.’
Scott held out his hand.
‘Welcome to Jacana Downs,’ he said as she slipped her hand into his and then winced as her fingers were crushed. ‘I hope you’ll be as happy with us as your friend Margaret was.’
‘I hope so too.’ She felt shy, inadequate, but there was something else, too, some other unfathomable emotion that disturbed her faintly.
‘Sue,’ he said, ‘do you know where Jane is to sleep?’
‘Yes, Anna told me it was to be the corner room facing west.’
‘Take her up, then, and afterwards you can show her around. You don’t mind? You’re not too tired?’
‘Not for a pleasant task like this,’ smiled Sue. ‘Shall I have time before tea to introduce her to one or two of the wives?’
‘I should think so.’ He glanced at his watch and nodded. ‘Perhaps you and Lanky would like to have tea with us?’
‘Thanks, Boss,’ from Lanky. ‘I’ll see to the car and then get changed.’
The room to which she was shown made Jane stare in disbelief.
‘It’s for me—a room like this?’ No servant’s room, she thought as she glanced around, noting the soft lilac wall to wall carpeting, the paler walls and white ceiling with its ornate coving. The furniture was of Regency design, the bed large and draped with an embroidered cover of the same lilac shade as the curtains which framed the high wide window. The bathroom was en suite, in pampas green with gold-plated fittings and hanging plants reflected in the mirrors which occupied two of the walls. Luxury everywhere even to the high quality of the towels which were folded neatly on a glass shelf. ‘I can hardly believe it!’ she exclaimed. ‘Are you sure you haven’t made a mistake….’ But even as she spoke her voice trailed, for there was her luggage, visible through the open door of what was obviously a small dressing-room.
‘The Boss likes to make his staff as comfortable as possible. Margaret had a room similar to this one but that’s been made ready for the Boss’s cousin and her daughter who are coming for a visit—’ Sue stopped to ponder a moment. ‘I think it’s this coming weekend that they’re expected. They’re nice so you’ll enjoy their company.’
‘Are they young—I mean, the daughter must be a child?’
‘No. Crystal’s about your age—twenty-one or two, I should think. Her mother’s in her early forties.’
‘Widowed?’
‘Divorced.’
‘They come often?’
‘A couple of times a year.’ A small pause ensued. ‘Didn’t Margaret ever mention them?’
‘No; she probably didn’t think it important. We didn’t correspond all that regularly. It was only when she was coming home that she wrote to suggest I apply for the job.’
Sue looked her over speculatively.
‘Think you’ll like being a skivvy?’ she asked in some amusement. ‘You were a private secretary, you said.’
‘The change will do me good. It’s experience, and lots of girls—and men—travel in this way, taking all kinds of jobs in order to gain experience of other countries and cultures. I feel sure I’m going to take to the life here.’
‘It’s lonely. Have you thought of that?’
Jane nodded at once, saying that Margaret had mentioned the loneliness. ‘But she knows I’m fairly capable of finding my own entertainment,’ added Jane with a smile. ‘One can’t ever be lonely if there’s a book available.’
‘The Boss has a very interesting library.’ Sue paused as Jane slipped off the fine woollen jacket she wore over her blouse and skirt. ‘Ready to look around or do you want to freshen up first?’
Jane cast a glance into the full-length mirror and grimaced.