The Auction a Romance by Anna Erishkigal Page 28

  He reined his horse just before he turned the corner and looked back at me as if to say, 'well, what are you waiting for?' I scurried after him, wishing fervently Harvey had come tonight to carry me across my dream, but since the day the girl had given me the reins to the white pony, I'd had no more dreams about riding my beloved Harvey. Instead, each night, the white pony came and stood outside of Pippa's bedroom window.

  The dry grass clawed at my bare legs as I followed the dark rider across the fields, over a fence, and through three more pastures until the land began to slope back down towards the river.

  "Wait!" I shouted as I ran after the tall, dark phantasm. But while he didn't wait for me, he always slowed up just enough that I didn't lose my way. I was hot and sweaty and out of breath when I stumbled over a rocky outcropping and almost fell head first into a hole.

  "Bloody hell! Do you think you could have warned me?"

  The tall, dark rider loomed over me, so close that his painted steed's breath snuffled over me as he chewed his bit right next to my ear.

  "Back off!" I jabbed my finger up at him. "I know who you are, and I'm not afraid of you."

  A bemused expression softened the dark rider's eyes and, just for a moment, I saw the echo of the son. He pointed down a slender path which wound through the blackthorn, barely visible, and then pushed past me, the painted stallion passing so close I could feel the heat which rose from his body. I scrambled down clumsily after him, cursing as the blackthorn drew blood. When I got to the bottom, I gaped as I realized the faint light which danced across the water was not a reflection of the moonlight, but a slender, willowy blue stick-figure that burned like a flame.

  I glanced up at the dark rider.

  "It's a Mimi."

  I stepped towards it, but the closer I got, the further away the Mimi seemed to dance. I realized from the way the riverbank curved steeply around the water that this must be a billabong, a twist in the river that had become cut off when the Condamine changed course and then grown in with trees. Water soaked through my sheepskin slippers. I pulled them off and tossed them back up onto the riverbank. The Mimi beckoned, so close, and yet so far away. I waded into the shallow water which bubbled as though it was a glass of champagne. All of a sudden the ground dropped out from underneath me.

  "Ack!"

  Frigid water closed over my head. I fought, and I swam, and then all of a sudden I figured which way was up and popped back above the surface, coughing up the water which had found its way into my lungs.

  "Bloody hell!"

  The water was freezing! The blue Mimi, and also the horseman, had both disappeared.

  "Jerk!" I shouted after him.

  I swam to shore and felt around in the pre-dawn light to find my slippers. Stupid dreams! Next time I would only take the bait if Harvey came to carry me across the fields. And worse of all, the man on the painted stallion had left me shivering in my nightgown.

  Unable to find my way home in the dark, I lay down in the soft clay and willed myself back into my own bed.

  *

  Bzzzzz….

  Something delicate brushed across my upper lip.

  Bzzz…zzzzz…

  Tiny kisses swirled around me. I swatted at them and smiled.

  "Thunderlane."

  A small, sharp pain bit into my cheek.

  "Ow!"

  My eyes shot open. I sat up, disoriented, as sunlight streamed through a tall canopy of gum trees and cast speckles of golden sunlight into the mud of the tiny billabong. I was in a hole. A big, half-moon shaped hole surrounded by eucalyptus with a small, deep pool at its center. Despite its small size, the water roiled, and every now and then a burst of bubbles rose to the surface.

  "I'll be damned."

  I stuck my foot cautiously into the dark, clear water and circled around it until I got a good idea of the circumference. The water felt as fresh and cold as water from a mountain spring. Because the billabong was protected from the river, instead of filling in with silt, it left a small natural deep-hole well, perhaps six meters across, and God only knew how deep the thing went before it hit the bottom of the inky black hole. The main river floated past nearby, just over a small, thorny riverbank which had accreted at some point in the distant past to cut the tiny oxbow bend off, but during a flood-tide, it likely overflowed to fill the cove and make it appear this was just an ordinary billabong. My last thought before I'd fallen asleep had been to find this place, and in my sleep I must have sleep-walked.

  Had the horseman been a dream?

  Mosquitos swarmed around me, eager to feast on my blood. Of course it had been a dream!

  I found my soggy sheepskin slippers, living proof I must have been at least partially awake when I'd wandered off because in the dream-world I was always fully dressed. I climbed back up the bank where the horseman led me down. Just to be sure I checked the soft mud for signs of hoof prints and only found the indentations of my own feet. I found the faint path I must have discovered in my half-awake, half-asleep condition.

  As I climbed over the rocky outcropping I'd skinned my shin on in the dark, I paused as I realized it was more than simply ledge.

  "They're real."

  Etched into the black rocks with lines so faded they were barely visible, was not just my dancing Mimi and the man who carried the spears, but dozens of animals and a larger man with short legs who reached towards me with his burly arms. I glanced back at the billabong. The First Australians marked such places as sacred because access to water in a drought meant the difference between life and death.

  "Now I understand why Adam's father never wanted them to drill into his land," I said unto the air. I glanced back at the spring. "It's too bad I'm getting evicted."

  I hiked back to the house, feeling only slightly better than I had last night.

  Chapter 30

  When you live in the middle of nowhere, getting someplace entails getting into a car and driving a great distance. Only petrol isn't cheap, especially when you drive a 2007 Ford Falcon. I was acutely aware that next week's paycheck would be my last. I drove downtown, hoping to find something to take my mind away from my impending eviction, but unfortunately, on Sunday, Nutyoon rolls up the sidewalks.

  After driving around aimlessly until my gas gage began to dip towards empty, I decided to do something I swore I'd never do again. Go. To. Church. Two pretty little white church steeples glowered majestically at one another from opposite ends of town, each in a jealous competition to save the most souls. I sweltered in the heat until finally my pragmatic streak took over. It was either go back to the house, or put myself out there and meet some new people. How hard could it be?

  I picked St. John's because St. Peter's was Anglican. My mother was Anglican, not by birth, but because everybody who was somebody in Gold Coast was an Anglican. St. John's, on the other hand, was a Lutheran church. I'd never been inside a Lutheran church before, but anything was better than repacking my suitcase for the hundredth time.

  Everybody turned to watch me slither in late. The back pews were full, so I was forced to walk halfway up the aisle and slide in past a blue-haired elderly couple in their eighties. The sermon was boring, but it gave me someplace air conditioned that didn't require gasoline or money. After a few minutes I began to regret having wandered in as it trapped me in the very thoughts I'd run in here to escape. I glanced longingly towards the door. If I left now, would everybody notice?

  I stared up at the plain, wooden crucifix which adorned the wall behind the preacher and sent up a silent prayer.

  Listen, mate. If you don't want me lusting after a married man, then why don't you give me some other option? Because this whole situation? It really stinks.

  My chest hurt like I'd just been kicked by a horse. I waited for a divine revelation. Voices? Hallucinations? A visitation from an angel? I'd settle for a genuinely helpful idea? Bah! I'd given up on God after he'd let my mother kill my horse. Why bother when praying never changed anything?

  I fl
ipped open the bible and pretended to read Matthew 1:18 along with the other congregants who focused on the Christmas story. I stared up at the man on the wooden cross and let my inner angels and demons duke out the nasty truth I was hiding from.

  I'm tired. I just want someplace to call home.

  --No you don't. You want more.--

  Maybe I could stay here and teach at Saint Joseph's? I like it here. And I've made some friends.

  --And everywhere you go, you'll be reminded of Adam Bristow.--

  Would that be so terrible?

  --Yes, it -would- be terrible! You have feelings for him, dammit! Why do you think you're so upset he's going back to Brisbane?--

  No. It's just a passing fancy. Look how quickly I got over Gregory.

  --The only reason you haven't obsessed about Gregory is because, compared to Adam, Gregory is a dweeb. Do you really think you'll so easily forget Adam? Why do you think his billionaire ex-wife wants him back so badly?--

  God, I hate church! It always makes you see things!

  At last the service broke up. I stood up and bolted towards the door.

  "Rosie? Is that you?"

  Macy Robertson waddled toward me, her belly so large it was a wonder she could fit between the pews. Edema had caused her ankles and face to swell up so much she reminded me of Violet from Willy Wonka after she'd eaten the blueberry gum.

  "Macy." I greeted the Saint Joseph's teacher I'd hoped to fill in for. "It's good to see you again." I glanced at her belly. "I thought you were due last week?"

  "Not yet," Macy laughed. "I didn't know you were Lutheran?"

  "Catholic," I confessed. "But sometimes, when the need arises, any house of worship will do."

  "Ah, yes," Macy gave me an approving smile. "I find myself in such a predicament myself. My father was Lutheran, my mother Catholic, so I consider myself to be a bit of a mongrel."

  She wrapped her arm around me and herded me away from the door. I eyed it longingly. So close… I had almost made it!

  "Have you gotten a callback from Principal McMillan?" Macy asked.

  "He set up a second interview before the board after the New Year."

  "That's good news," Macy said. "I know my students will be in capable hands. Now, come! Let me introduce you to the pastor! He'll be happy to meet the newest member of our community."

  Within seconds I found myself surrounded by a throng of strangers, every one of them friendly and curious about how I'd ended up living with Adam Bristow. I'd had no idea this was Adam's mother's congregation. I could almost hear their prurient thoughts as I explained I'd taken a temporary position as governess for the summer. Little did they know it wasn't from a lack of trying on my part!

  "Would that make you Jane Eyre?" one woman asked.

  "Oh, please!" I pretended to roll my eyes. "Adam's a gentleman. You make it sound like I'm trapped in a bad romance novel."

  "But he does have that crazy ex-wife," said an older woman in her seventies.

  "She showed up here at his mother's funeral," a third said, "with her new boyfriend in tow to pay her respects. I swear she did it just to make Adam jealous."

  The first woman tugged at my arm like a co-conspirator.

  "She walks right up to Adam in the receiving line, and instead of saying 'I'm sorry for your loss,' she announces she's come to take Pippa with her to Venezuela."

  "Could you believe the audacity?" the second said. "Right in front of his mother's casket!"

  'Yes, that sounds like Eva…'

  "No," I said aloud.

  "Adam, he was always a quiet boy," the third said. "Never argued. Never caused anybody any trouble. But I swear to God it looked like his father reared up out of his grave when he told Eva Jackson it would be a cold day in hell before he let her take his daughter out of the country."

  "Why, I never seen a woman get so angry!" the first woman said. "She slapped him in the face, right in front of that fancy new boyfriend of hers, and then she threatened she would set Adam to ruin."

  I felt sick to my stomach.

  "Where was Pippa during all of this?"

  "She was standing right next to him," the second woman said. "Poor little thing ran out of the church in tears, and then Adam went running after her. She was so upset we had to bury Katherine without them."

  "Harold over there—" the first woman pointed to a leathery-skinned man who exuded silent authority "—he's the police chief, you know? He told that fancy new boyfriend of Eva Jackson's that if he didn't drag her out of town, he'd arrest the both of them. He didn't care who Eva's daddy is. He told her he'd haul her outta here in handcuffs and invite the reporters to take pictures of them in jail."

  The women laughed as they gossiped about the show of the century and speculated about when Adam would finally be free of that woman so they could set him up with one of the single women in town. I gave them a fake smile even though I found it hard to breathe. Adam would not appreciate my telling his mother's friends he'd decided to reconcile with his wife.

  I backed out of the group, right into the gossiping husbands who lingered on the periphery to talk about all the ways the drought caused hardship as the seasonal waterways dried up and the stationer's wells ran dry. The police chief, Harold, greeted me warmly, and said he'd been a friend of Adam's father. The men resumed their ruminations about the drought.

  "The Bristows have one of the best spreads in the territory," Harold said. "Not only are they on the river, but on a part of the river which never runs dry."

  "That old story ain't nuthin' but a myth," a middle-aged stationer said. "Last time the river dried down, Trevor coulda made a killin' selling water, but he refused to sell me a single drop. Just gave me a lecture about the carrying capacity of the land."

  Myth?

  "Yeah, Albert," Harold said, "but he did show up at your spread with a 500 gallon water tank on the back of his ute to give your herd a drink. And he wouldn't take single a penny for it, neither. Just made you give him your word you'd git 'em to market before they died of thirst."

  All around me, the church-men relayed similar stories about the perplexingly contradictory nature of Adam's father.

  "Yeah," Albert grudgingly acknowledged. "Trevor Bristow was a hard man, but he wasn't heartless."

  That Gitano sense of knowing warned me the man on the painted stallion hadn't shown me where the 'myth' came up into the middle of a billabong to go blab it to the entire world. Why did he show it to me, then? Maybe he wanted me to tell Adam?

  Oh! Bloody hell! What was I saying? Next thing you know I'll be spouting off about fairy queens and unicorns. I was only sleepwalking!

  I slithered out of the church and headed back to the Falcon, determined to repack my belongings for the hundred-and-first time. I had to get out of town. There was no way I could stay and not spend every single moment obsessing about Adam Bristow. Nor could I return to Brisbane, which had some of the most expensive real estate prices in Australia. Even if I did find an apartment I could afford, Eva Jackson was always in the news. Where could I go to nurse a broken heart?

  I stared up at the cross mounted on top of the boxy steeple.

  Some help you were…

  *

  I expected to receive a phone call telling me Eva decided to keep Pippa with her since Adam would be moving back there in three more days, but there was nothing. No phone calls from Adam. No phone calls from Eva. Not even any phone calls from Linda Hastings or Julie, although the former had gone to Darby to spend the weekend with her daughter and the latter was booked up solid styling hair for all the people who wanted to look nice for the Christmas parties. I briefly considered calling Sarah Colbert's father just to have somebody to talk to about my favorite subject, horses, but nixed that idea because I didn't want to lead him on.

  Come six o'clock Sunday afternoon, I stood by the window, waiting for the limousine I was certain would never come. Thunderlane woofed, and ran to the front door.

  "They're back," I said. "Fifteen minutes e
arly."

  I waited until the long, black stretch limo slid in front of the door like an arriving cruise ship before I went outside to retrieve my young charge. As much as I missed Pippa, I was in no hurry to see the Black Widow gloat. I stepped out the door just as Frederick, the limousine driver, walked around to the passenger side to let Pippa out of the rear.

  Pippa threw herself into my arms.

  "Rosie!"

  "Hey, nipper." I gave Pippa a hug.

  Pippa buried her face into my shoulder like she hadn't seen me in a hundred million years. I held her in return, this precious little girl who had come to mean so much.

  Maybe you should go with them so at least you're not separated from -her-…

  Frederick went into the boot and retrieved Pippa's suitcases. I stared at the back of the limousine, wondering why the Black Widow hadn't stepped out of the car to rub my face into my misery.

  "Mrs. Bristow couldn't make it." Frederick said. "She and her father flew to Sydney to meet with Mr. Bristow before tomorrow's court hearing."

  The world began to spin, forcing me to lean on Pippa for support as the implications of Frederick's words settled into my already ravaged psyche. So. That's why Adam didn't come home. He and Eva are spending the night together to reconcile without Pippa there to get in their way. And then, come Wednesday, they will take Pippa back to Brisbane for good.

  A cold, hard fist reached into my chest and crushed my heart. Tears welled in my eyes as I pictured Adam giving Eva the kiss he'd refused to give me.

  "Rosie?" Pippa's eyes turned grey with worry.

  Frederick carried Pippa's suitcases inside the house and stepped back out again to where Pippa still stood plastered to my chest, his eyes filled with pity. With a tip of his hat that reminded me of the man on the painted stallion, he got into the limousine to drive it back to Adam and Eva's home in Brisbane.