Summer Lightning by Tamara McKinley

Author:Tamara McKinley [McKinley, Tamara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC000000 FICTION / General
Publisher: Quercus

Chapter Nine

Frank’s cottage was set on the far side of home yard and overlooked the gentle slope that ran down to the billabong. Shaded by trees, the verandah was a pleasant place to sit of an evening, and Frank was happily watching the ducks and the parakeets fly down for their last drink of the day. His pipe smoke drifted with the breeze that wafted down from the surrounding hills – it was a good way of keeping the mosquitoes at bay.

‘G’day, Frank. How ya going?’ Fiona settled into a cane chair beside him.

‘Good,’ he mumbled around his pipe. ‘Got a new man working for me, so I gotta bit of peace for a change.’

‘About time you shifted some of the workload, Frank.’

Frank, a man of few words, nodded and carried on smoking his pipe.

Fiona eyed the long, weatherbeaten face beneath the battered bush hat and wondered just how old Frank was. She remembered him as a child, and he’d seemed ancient then – yet he didn’t really look any different now despite the passing years. ‘Mim doesn’t look well,’ she began. ‘I was shocked to see how frail she is.’

Frank nodded again and after a long silence, drew the pipe from his mouth. ‘She’ll be right,’ he drawled. ‘Just getting old like the rest of us.’

Fiona bit her lip. She didn’t like to acknowledge the truth that her grandmother was mortal. ‘Seventy-five isn’t that old,’ she protested.

His hazel eyes were direct as he regarded her. ‘It is when you’ve spent those seventy-five years out here in the Never Never,’ he said gruffly. ‘Mim ain’t one to slow down, neither. Caught her mucking out the other day.’ He grinned, making the corners of his eyes crinkle into a web of lines. ‘Got me ear chewed off, but I’m used to it.’

Fiona rested her elbows on her knees and stared out over the darkening landscape as the cicadas began their pulsing rasp. The billabong glimmered silver as the birds settled for the night, and the last of the galahs were black silhouettes against the rising moon. She should have brought her camera, but it was back at the homestead.

‘Do you know anything about this Jake Connor?’ she asked eventually. It didn’t do to barrage Frank with too many questions at a time.

‘Good bloke,’ muttered Frank around the stem of his pipe. ‘Met him once or twice in the stables. Reckon he don’t let Mim get away with nothing, quite livened the old girl up.’ This was a long sentence for Frank and he fell silent.

Fiona struggled to keep her patience. Good bloke, or not, she wanted to know why he was here. ‘Did Mim tell you anything about him?’ she ventured. ‘They seem on the best of terms. He’s already calling her Mim, as if he was one of the family.’

Frank shook his head. ‘Don’t tell me nothing,’ he mumbled. He leaned back in his chair and propped his booted feet on the verandah railings. ‘Reckon it might have something to do with that music box, though,’ he drawled.

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