BECKER by Gordon Reid

Author:Gordon Reid [Reid, Gordon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Shawline Publishing Group Pty Ltd
Published: 2021-08-29T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

When he arrived home, he got a surprise. No-one was at home when he left. Which was not surprising, the two kids being at school, Wendy in Wagga and the Terry still at the little bush school at the turn-off. Which had a name, Old Man Creek. Unsurprisingly, there was a creek of that name, quite a big one, which was not a creek at all, but an anabranch of the Murrumbidgee River. Which had several good fishing spots. From there on, out past Lockhart, past Boree Creek, past Wybilonga, there was nothing but plains, red plains, sandy plains. Plains which went on and on. Good for nothing but wheat and sheep. Then, no good for wheat, just sheep. Then, nothing but the endless saltbush plains and the mythical outback. Out in the back of beyond. The back country, as they called it out there. Beyond the rivers and beyond endurance. Frequently beyond hope. It was said of the back country that it was littered with the bones of little men who’d tried to get big.

The surprising thing was that Nutty was on the front verandah. Normally he was tied up out back, when no-one was at home. If not, he’d be at the side fence, barking himself hoarse at Blue. Then, as he drove in, Becker saw, sitting on the verandah, behind the old pepper tree, a woman and two children. They were patting Nutty, or trying to. He was excited, dancing this way and that on the verandah. He looked happy, as if he’d found new friends.

Becker got out of the BMW slowly, surprised.

‘Addie?’ he said.

‘Yes, Harry,’ she said. She looked a perfect picture of misery. Or what she thought or hoped was a perfect picture.

‘What’s happened?’

‘We had to come,’ she said.

‘What has happened?’

She had been his wife. His first wife, before she’d kicked him out. After what he’d done good for her years before. Told him in the patrol car in Sydney that she was up the duff and did not know what to do. Told him while he was driving her home after a smash and grab in Hurstville. He wasn’t the father. Just doing her a good turn, a woman in distress. She’d said her father would skin her when he found out. He would have found out pretty soon, she being three months gone and beginning to show. She’d burst into tears and said no-one’d marry her now. So, he, Harry Becker, stupid mug, had said, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll marry you instead.’

‘I hope you don’t mind, Harry. We couldn’t find anyone at home but your lovely doggie. So friendly he was, all chained up and wagging his tail. And begging us to let him off, so we did. And smiling at us, even though he had hurt in his eyes, the way doggies do, when everyone has gone and left them all alone. So affectionate, isn’t he? We let him off and have been sitting here, haven’t we, kids? Waiting with him and

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