The runaway girl an aust.., p.1
The Runaway Girl: An Australian Outback Romance, page 1
The Runaway Girl
Lucy Walker
Copyright © The Estate of Lucy Walker 2021
This edition first published 2021 by Wyndham Books
(Wyndham Media Ltd)
27, Old Gloucester Street, London WC1N 3AX
First published 1975
www.wyndhambooks.com/lucy-walker
The author has asserted her right to be identified as the author of this work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, organisations and events are a product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organisations and events is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.
Cover artwork images © Roman Samborskyi / Serge Goujon (Shutterstock)
Cover artwork design © Wyndham Media Ltd
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Books by Lucy Walker
from Wyndham Books
The Call of the Pines
Reaching for the Stars
The River is Down
Girl Alone
The One Who Kisses
The Ranger in the Hills
Come Home, Dear
Love in a Cloud
Home at Sundown
The Stranger in the North
Wife to Order
A Man Called Masters
Follow Your Star
Down in the Forest
The Runaway Girl
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Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Books by Lucy Walker
Chapter One
Jenny leaned forward in the Land-Rover, wrapped her arms round her knees and took in a deep breath.
‘I can hardly believe it!’ she said. ‘I’m actually here!’ Geoff Hallam, in the driver’s seat, glanced at her, his grin as cheerful as it was friendly.
‘You’re here all right,’ he said. ‘You all that keen to get away, Jen?’
‘Yes.’
‘I kind-of thought that kiss you and Johno exchanged was not very hearty. What goes?’
Jenny straightened her back and tilted her chin just that much.
‘Please don’t call him Johno,’ she said quietly. ‘His name is plain John. And we are not lovers.’
Geoff looked straight ahead, the expression on his face dead-pan. His grey eyes were slitted against the early morning light and the breeze stirred his light brown hair. His long legs moved restlessly as if some small stab of pain had touched him unexpectedly.
‘So you and “plain John” are not lovers. Since when? But don’t tell me if you don’t want, pal.’
‘Since never,’ Jenny said. But her smile died away sadly.
Just because John came to the homestead often, everyone in Yaraandoo had to be thinking he had some ulterior reason, she thought. They almost wished me on him. Or him on me.
‘All the same,’ she said aloud, ‘he shouldn’t have sold Redcoat. And without my knowing.’
‘So you loved that big red horse better than your life? Was that it? I’ve seen you galloping that nag through the bush myself, honey. You could have been heading for a fall …’
‘How wrong could you be?’ Jenny said, exasperated. ‘I loved Redcoat and he loved me. He would never, never have run me into danger.’
‘I guess your father didn’t think that way or he wouldn’t have given John the nod to sell that horse.’
‘My father was giving John the “nod” for other reasons,’ Jenny began, and then broke off. She couldn’t tell Geoff the whole story. Noblesse oblige. A girl must never tell, just as a man was honour bound not to tell.
John Downing was the manager of the Pastoral Agency in Yaraandoo and her father had thought he would be a good match for Jenny. She could see it all now. Would things have been any different if she had seen that in the first place?
She was one of three girls, and there was no son to carry on the farm in the next generation. John Downing seemed a good match. But like any young girl of eighteen, Jenny had been angry when she had discovered what her parents were doing. John was asked to tea almost every Sunday night. John was also asked to come out from town and advise on the sub-clovers. Or give an opinion as to where the next bore should be sunk. This last was to provide next season’s water for the growing number of horses her father was breeding.
And he had so often remarked, ‘Jenny, you go along with John and show him where we’ve cross-sticked the likely areas.’ This would be followed by a kindly smile to John. There had been a wise-parent expression on his face as he added: ‘Jenny knows almost as much about the horses as I do. A real little farmer is our Jenny. You’re the expert, John. You ply her questions and see if she doesn’t come up with the right answers. Every time.’
Jenny, at first, had been pleased that her father had so much confidence in her. Mostly, when she went down to the horse paddock with John, it was to catch Redcoat. Then, with her hand on Redcoat’s neck, she would lead him to John, sitting on the top rail.
She had no heart or mind for anything else but her beloved favourite. To show off Redcoat’s paces, she would spring up on his back and ride him round the paddock, bare-backed and at full pace.
She had no idea that she angered John, not only because of her love for the horse but because she would ride him through the bush on off days and always at great pace.
Repeatedly John had said, ‘You shouldn’t do that, Jenny. One day he’ll run you against a tree. Or worse, throw you. He has too much spirit.’
‘Redcoat throw me? Why, he loves me as much as I love him. He would never hurt me. I know exactly what he’s going to do … always. Like he knows me.’
But John Downing considered that Jenny’s habit of giving the mount his head through virgin bush was something more than foolish. He was a conservative man in all his dealings with animals. After a while Jenny began to realize this. She knew John was a good Pastoral Agent and that he understood bloodstock. For its value, but not for love. Never for love.
Then one day she came upon her father and John talking business in the homestead office. She caught the name ‘Redcoat’ but didn’t think anything of it at the moment. A week later, home from a visit to a neighbouring farm, she was told that John had sold Redcoat to a pastoralist at a price that Jenny’s father declared to be very satisfactory. ‘A splendid agent is John,’ her father said pointedly. ‘Couldn’t have fetched a better price at the auction. Knows his horse-flesh does John.’
Mr Haseltine was annoyed when he saw the expression on Jenny’s face, and the tears in her eyes.
‘Now, now. Listen, Jenny,’ he had said, putting his arm round her shoulders. ‘There are plenty more three-year-olds coming on. I’ve always told you not to get too fond of any one animal. I breed them for sale. Sooner or later this favourite or that must go up for sale. Besides, John did not like you always riding the one mount. He felt Redcoat could get out of hand, and not fetch a good market price …’
Jenny had slipped from her father’s arm and run out of the room.
So John had done it! John had sold Redcoat! John had planned to do that … when he knew how much she loved Redcoat!
All that was three weeks ago.
Two days later there had come this advertisement asking for a country-style cook for a safari leaving shortly for the Outback. Jenny had applied for the job. Her parents had agreed that a period away from the farm would do her good.
The winning of the post had been an uphill job. Any number of girls had applied, including Caroline Holmes, also from Yaraandoo. Caroline had been selected, though Jenny’s old school-friend, Geoff Hallam, had put in a good word for her. Then, at the last minute, Caroline had sprung a ‘query appendix’ problem. Geoff had driven up to the farm with the news.
‘Come on, Jenny, throw some things in a satchel and jump in. Now!’ he said. ‘The fellow doing the advance fitting-out for the safari is back in town. You’ll be the first on his doorstep. Just come and take over. Be there ‒ and the job is yours.’
Geoff was right.
There had been no time for goodbyes except to her parents. There’d been hardly time to ‘throw’ her things into a travel-bag.
Jenny had spent the rest of that afternoon, and half the night, checking over the stores with Paul Collett, the organizer, and at daybreak she was ready to start off with Geoff in his Land-Rover. Paul Collett had gone ahead at midnight and promised to meet up with them somewhere along the old goldfields road.
How John Downing knew ‒ at such short notice ‒ that she was going, Jenny did not know. But he was there to see them off. She supposed someone at home had rung through and told him. She had tried to be nice to him. In this she was self-helped by the rising excitement of actually getting away.
It wasn’t a down-in-the-mouth Jenny who waved goodbye. She was all smiles, her blue-blue eyes were shining as she kissed her two sisters and her mother. She didn’t even mind the pecks she and John exchanged. She was thinking of other things. Things like the snake of gravel road through the forest land till they reached the Bitumen Highway. And the long roll of blue road three hundred and thirty miles eastwards towards the goldfields.
Now here she was.
It was a lovely bushland morning. The scent of eucalyptus filled the air. Now and again came the faint scampering sound of a wallaby hopping its way through the grey anonymous bush. Black cockatoos ‒ a flash of red in their wings ‒ chevroned their way to the apple orchards along the west creek.
‘So you’re all that keen to get away from the homestead nest!’ Geoff said thoughtfully, not for the first time. ‘Ah well! I’m a bit of a nomad myself, else I wouldn’t go tacking myself on to safaris, would I? That makes two of us.’
‘You helped me get this job, Geoff. I’m grateful.’ Jenny’s lovely, long, black hair was over her shoulder again. She threw it back, fished in her dilly-bag for a piece of ribbon and tied it up. ‘As cook and general rouseabout I’ll have to remember to keep my hair out of everything. Won’t I?’ she finished with a laugh.
‘Yep. Drew Carey’s about the tidiest man ever. Has a thing about it. And don’t thank me too soon about getting the job. Wait till the Big Boss Fella accepts you. You’re not in ‒ till he says so.’
Jenny made a small grimace. ‘Don’t be so scary, Geoff,’ she pleaded. ‘Paul Collett ‒ doing the base organizing ‒ had the authority to find someone, didn’t he? I was second choice to Caroline. I mean, I was next on the list, wasn’t I?’
‘Uh-huh. But I never count my gemstones till I have them in the bag. So don’t get all het-up, honey. Not till Drew Carey gives the okay.’
‘Are you being exasperating, Geoff? Or just advising caution?’
‘Caution. That’s for sure!’ Geoff grinned cheerfully.
‘We know one another too well,’ Jenny remarked philosophically. ‘You can’t believe I’m as good a cook as I am. I can’t believe you’re all that good at motor mechanics.’
‘I’m a very good mechanic,’ Geoff said, glancing sideways at her, still wearing a self-satisfied grin. ‘And Drew Carey knows it. He’s had me out on his excursions before.’
‘And I have yet to be tried out.’
‘Exactly.’
‘Paul Collett thinks I’ll be all right,’ she said, hopefully.
‘It’s his responsibility. Not mine.’ Geoff was still teasing.
‘Would you be pleased if I were sent back?’ Jenny asked. ‘You almost sound like it.’
Geoff went on steadily gazing at the track in front of them.
‘Not a bit,’ he said. ‘How’s that for a fair answer?’
Jenny smiled, and the smile grew into a laugh.
‘But watch out for Drew Carey all the same,’ Geoff added. ‘And don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
He changed gears as they took a gravel hill. He narrowed his eyes now against the shafts of sunlight striking through the leafy tree-tops. It was an hour after sun-up and the jarrah forest was at its best ‒ except for the tantalizing crosslights between the sapling tree stems.
‘Drew’s a cagey bird, Jenny,’ Geoff said quietly. ‘He leaves the preliminary organization to Paul Collett because he knows Paul doesn’t make mistakes. Not ever. Paul does all the groundwork organization for most safaris setting off for the Outback. That’s his business. A lucrative one, too. But once he’s seen a safari off ‒ and well on its way ‒ he dices out. Leaves the rest to whoever is running the show. In our case, it’s Drew Carey. Me? I have to stay with it the whole way so I can’t have my mistakes behind me this side of the ’Scarp.’
‘You’re being sorry for yourself,’ Jenny said, her brilliant blue eyes shining with fun now. Then she became serious again. ‘But what is he really like, this Drew Carey?’
‘He’s okay, Jenny. But don’t forget he’s the boss. He’ll turf you out as soon as look at you, if you make more than one mistake.’
‘I shan’t make even one mistake,’ Jenny said, tilting her chin. She was being very resolute now and showing it.
‘Half your luck,’ Geoff said. ‘You must be more than human.’
‘No. Just conscientious.’
‘Don’t turn out to be a second Nicole, honey. That’s the only boon I ask.’
‘Nicole?’
Geoff shrugged. ‘His co-partner. A bit too settled-in to call her a mere girl-friend. One or t’other, anyway. She’s that close to him! I met her on one of Drew’s safaris last year. She’s a real looker. The kind you think you’ll never meet till one day you do. Straight out of the top bracket. She’s supposed to have a mighty bank account, and collects gemstones in her own right. Happens to be very know-all about the ghost towns. You taking all this in, Jenny?’
She nodded. ‘Every word,’ she said.
‘Nicole was born Outback,’ Geoff went on. ‘Her father had something to do with the Sons of Gwalia Mine in the old gold-boom days. He owned land too. Was partner in a sheep station a bit further Outback. Anyhow, there isn’t much Nicole doesn’t know about the whole area. She has a reputation for not being able to keep away from the place ‒ once she has a chance to get out of town.’
‘Well …’ said Jenny judicially. ‘To me she sounds like a very capable ‒ as well as an attractive ‒ sort of person.’
Geoff laughed. He slowed the Rover down to let an emu stroll across the road. ‘That bird will really get the bird one day,’ he said balefully. ‘What with kangaroos and emus, life can be very hazardous out this way.’
‘I think they’re gorgeous. Especially the kangaroos.’
‘Yes. But you’re not driving,’ Geoff said. ‘If I clobber one of those, my conscience and the conservationists will be after me. That is, if I’m still alive under a bowled-out car. Just remember, when you take over the driving, to watch what’s moving in the bush alongside you. If it’s either kangaroo or emu it’s ten to one it’ll start crossing the road without giving reasonable caution to old homo sapiens. You’d be lucky to stay alive ‒ and whole.’
‘I’ll remember,’ Jenny said. ‘Don’t forget we have the ’roos round Yaraandoo too.’
‘Not like you have them up here. They get more and more in numbers the nearer you get to the Outback.’
Jenny unwound her arms from her knees. ‘You were telling me about Nicole,’ she said reproachfully.
‘Like I said, she has everything. Including good looks, property ‒ and money.’
‘So everyone’s rich except you and me,’ Jenny said with mock sadness. She pushed her wandering hair back over her shoulder with one hand. ‘Do you or don’t you like her, Geoff?’
‘I like her as a matter of policy. And I don’t get in Drew’s shadow. She’s too high-powered for me. She’s all Drew’s for the duration! I have to be honest. I’d like her if only she wasn’t so dedicated to getting her own way most of the time!’
‘Her own way!’ Jenny echoed. ‘But I thought Drew Carey was very much the big boss?’
‘So he is. That makes two of them, doesn’t it?’
Jenny puckered her brow, and did some thinking. ‘In that case,’ she said slowly, ‘in that case there being two bosses, they must act as one. Two people being as one generally means …’
Geoff nodded. ‘That’s right! So mind your ps and qs, angel. Like I said, there isn’t anything Nicole doesn’t know about the old goldfields. That’s where we’re heading now. Drew’s after more gemstones for his collection. So he says! Mostly opal. Hurrah for opal! Nicole is after keeping her eye on Drew, as well as watching out for marauders around the old ghost towns.’
