Bangalore. Roger Crook

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СКАЧАТЬ decided to dig a well right here on this spot not a hundred yards from where we are sitting; that was the first thing they did.

      “It took three months to get through rock and shale. They felled and pit sawed timber to line the well as they went down and down. The diary says the first well, they dug two over the first five years, the first well was just over ten yards deep. Water started seeping into the hole and they worked all night to shore up as the water rose higher. By next morning it was just two yards from the top and it was perfectly pure crystal clear water.

      “The next thing they did was build a bough-shed, which served as the first homestead. Then Lachlan went down to New Norcia and bought his first merinos. Put them on a sailing ship and brought them up to Carnarvon, and from there they walked two hundred ewes and a dozen rams all the way out here. It took them months and they didn’t lose a sheep. That was the start of Bangalore.” Standing up, he said, “Come on, I can smell breakfast. Time for a quick shower before Alice rings the bell.”

      Standing in the shower letting the luxury of the hot water wash away some of the stiffness from her long drive Pat thought about Ewen and how like his father he was, certainly in looks anyway. The only difference she thought she could see was that Ewen had a hard driven streak that she hadn’t yet seen in Angus.

      She’d never seen Ewen really relax. His idea of relaxation was a never-ending search for excellence, to be the best at everything he did, coming second was unacceptable. From what she’d seen of Angus, father and son were not the same. Then she thought of Ewen somewhere in hostile country, maybe dead, and her heart skipped a beat.

      Angus was already in the breakfast room when she joined him. She’d changed into khaki shorts and dark blue tee-shirt and because all she had with her were her elastic-sided boots, she was barefoot.

      Angus had showered and his normally curly black to grey hair was still wet and glistened, but he wore the same old tee-shirt and shorts he’d worn on the veranda and he hadn’t shaved. “Cereals, fruit, fresh bananas, mangoes all on the sideboard, help yourself, Pat. Toaster and bread there too; make your own in this house. Alice will be here in a minute with what you can smell cooking. Tea in the pot too, don’t drink coffee. There might be some old instant stuff around somewhere if you really want it.”

      “No, tea is fine; do me good to get off the coffee for a while. I think I drink too much of it. It goes with the job is my only excuse.” She put a few cornflakes into a bowl, picked out a mango and turned to sit at the table and noticing it was set for three people, hesitated.

      Without looking up from peeling another mango, Angus said, “Alice will claim that she is not a creature of habit but she always sits there,” pointing with his knife to the place on his left. “So you can sit anywhere you like so long as it is where you were last night.” He went on, “Pleased to see you have a mango, make the most of it. Alice is a closet mango eater. I bet there are a couple of trays in the cool room today, minus what we have here, but you watch; they’ll just disappear.”

      The doors through to the hallway and the kitchen were open and Alice came in carrying a tray. “I heard every bit of that, Angus; I’m surprised you would mock someone for such a small weakness of character. It’s my only vice, Pat.”

      “Except for Uncle Johnnie,” said Angus still looking at his mango trying to hide a smile.

      Alice paid no attention to him. She rested the tray on the table, passed Angus his scrambled eggs and bacon, gave Pat her plate and then put her own down. As she went to put the tray back in the kitchen, in what Pat could only interpret as a genuine sign of affection, as Alice passed Angus she squeezed his forearm and he smiled at her.

      Breakfast was an easy affair. Pat was conscious that Alice kept on steering the conversation away from any mention of Ewen. She talked about her great grandfather being a camel driver for Lachlan Sinclair and how they had started as man and servant and finished dying within weeks of each other as firm friends, inseparable to the end, it was said.

      Alice pointed out her grandfather in one of the faded photographs with a group including Lachlan. Her grandfather was a tall thin angular man with a big moustache and what looked like arms too long and big for his body. As Pat studied the photograph, Alice said, “He was a big man, wasn’t he? Legend has it that he was so strong that nobody dared challenge him. I think he got his strength from loading and unloading camels from when he was a boy. It must have been so hard in those days.”

      They heard the phone ring and Alice stood up and said, “I’ll get it, could be my niece having problems with the baby. Don’t know why she rings me. She’s had more children than I ever had.”

      She returned almost immediately, “It’s for you, Angus. It’s Michelle.”

      Without saying anything Angus picked up his mug of tea and went to the phone, shutting the breakfast room door behind him.

      Alice looked at Patricia. “Now this has the potential to ruin what could have been a quiet day. Michelle gets under his skin. Even now after all this time. You won’t hear Angus shout or anything like that; if he gets upset he will just go away somewhere, in his study, down to the pool, somewhere just to be alone.”

      Pat thought for a moment. “I suppose they have something in common at the moment, because of Ewen being missing. It must be hard on both of them. I know I keep on trying to push it out of my head but it’s not possible, Alice. How long have they been divorced?”

      “Angus and Michelle? Ewen is what, thirty-two? That makes Rachael thirty. Michelle left here semi-permanently when Ewen was just a toddler, hardly walking. She would go away for months and leave Ewen and his sister, Rachael, here with me. She left permanently when Ewen was about seventeen, so about ninety-seven. She never liked it here from the day she became pregnant with Ewen, which by my calculations was on their wedding night. She wouldn’t divorce Angus until about six or seven years ago. Claimed she was a good Catholic and couldn’t. Then she met her rich lawyer and found she could. Settlement was a ragged affair. If it hadn’t been for Angus’ father having the foresight to tie things up, she could have succeeded in what I think was her aim, and that was to ruin Bangalore. They all became very bitter and wouldn’t talk for years.”

      Angus came back into the room, his face expressionless. Looking at them both, he said, “I am not going to say anything that could be construed as derogatory. What Michelle had to say makes some sense. She thinks we should all be together for the next few days or so, or until we hear some news about Ewen. Hopefully it won’t be too long. She said she knew I couldn’t spare the time to be away from my precious Bangalore, quote unquote; then she told me she and Roderick Goldsmith, QC, are waiting at Perth airport now for Rachael, who is flying in from Sydney this morning. She will just have to walk from one terminal to the other and they will board Roddy’s new plane and they will be here at about two-thirty she thought for a late lunch, quote unquote again. Before you ask, Alice, no, she didn’t ask if it was convenient. You know Michelle.”

      Pat was the first to speak. “I’d better get moving then; it sounds like a house full.”

      For a split second Angus’ eyes flashed in anger but then he smiled. “You will do nothing of the sort. There is enough room in this house for at least a dozen in reasonable comfort. Anyway, you’re family and should be here. How much leave do you have?”

      “One week from last Thursday – more if I want it.”

      “Good. So you can stay?”

      “I brought hardly any clothes.”

      “You don’t need many clothes out here, by that I mean that jeans, СКАЧАТЬ