He focused on Melinda’s phone conversation again. ‘The garden is non-existent,’ she was saying and there was silence while her father made a comment.
‘Just lawn and a few garden beds without anything in them. I’d think it’s too hot to grow anything right now. The seedlings would wither under the heat no matter how much water you gave them.’ She lowered her voice. ‘And, Dad, you should’ve seen it yesterday when we drove into town. Rubbish everywhere. The whole place is just so dirty, whether as a result of dust or garbage.’
There was silence again.
‘No, it’s okay…Honestly, Dad, it’s fine…No, don’t come and visit yet…I know, I know. Me too.’
Not wanting to hear any more, Dave let himself quietly out of the laundry door and went to have a look in the back shed Melinda had told him about earlier.
In the setting sunlight the whole sky seemed to be glowing pink. He’d heard the sunsets out here were spectacular. Maybe he’d take Melinda up to the lookout one night, with a bottle of wine and a beer. They could watch the sun sink below the edge of the earth together.
He sniffed the air, which was still and calm, and the temperature seemed to be dropping—just slightly.
The door of the shed creaked loudly as it opened and he peered into the dim light, seeing nothing but the dust and cobwebs Melinda had talked about. Well, he’d be able to store his camping gear in here no problems. And the suitcases. Just need to buy a padlock, he thought.
‘G’day, mister.’ Dave heard Ernie’s voice from over the fence and ducked out, shutting the door.
‘Hi, Ernie,’ he answered with a grin. ‘How’re you?’ He waved a couple of stray flies away from his eyes as Ernie gave him the thumbs up.
The back door slammed and Melinda came out, pulling her long copper-coloured hair out of her face. Wearing clean denim shorts and a sleeveless shirt, she looked cool and beautiful, but Dave could see she’d been crying. He wished Mark hadn’t called.
‘Hot day,’ Ernie answered, seeming to ignore the question. ‘Hotter tomorrow. No wind, see?’
Melinda beckoned to Dave without leaving the back steps.
‘I see, so because there’s no wind, it will be even hotter tomorrow than today?’ Dave asked.
‘Yeah, mister,’ Ernie nodded, his hair bobbing up and down in time with the motion. ‘Flies too. Lotsa flies. Need fly net. You buy a fly net.’ He let out a loud cackle.
‘Yeah, the flies are a pain. Never seen so many. Anyway, good to know about the forecast, mate, ’cause it was bloody hot today.’ He took a couple of steps towards the house. ‘Better get going. Still got a lot to do. Catch you later, okay?’
‘Sure, sure,’ he nodded and seemed to slide below the fence.
‘All done?’ Dave asked Melinda. He wasn’t sure whether to mention her red eyes or not.
‘Yep.’ There were those one-word answers and thin lips again.
He decided not to do anything but take her hand and press it to his lips. She yanked it away from him and turned to stalk into the house and out the other side.
‘Let’s go then,’ Dave muttered to himself, resisting the urge to sigh.
Inside the pub there was a roar of laughter and voices. Dave felt Melinda press close to him and he realised there were mostly men in the bar. Last night the front bar had been empty save four old blokes who had had their eyes fixed on the TAB TV screen. They hadn’t taken any notice of the couple when they’d walked in for dinner. Tonight was different.
‘What would you like?’ asked the bartender who looked in her sixties. She put her elbows on the bar and fixed Melinda with a stare. ‘New around here, huh?’
Nodding, Melinda ordered a white wine and Dave a beer.
Without another word, she went to get their drinks.
‘Want to sit where we sat last night?’ Dave enquired, after glancing around, looking for tables.
‘I’ll go through.’ Melinda seemed keen to get away from the front bar. Or perhaps it was from him. She hadn’t said a word in the car.
‘If you like. I’ll grab the drinks.’
Watching as Melinda weaved her way quickly towards the dining room and the men followed her with their stares, Dave yet again wondered whether he’d done the right thing.
‘Haven’t seen you around before.’ An unshaven, dirty-faced man came up and leaned on the bar next to him. ‘New, are you? Welcome to Barrabine.’
‘Yeah, just joined the gold squad. Detective Dave Burrows.’ He held out his hand.
There was a pause before the other man slowly put out his hand. ‘Jeremy Maddison.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Ah, another one for the infamous gold squad. You detectives are well known around here. Do a good job, but I wouldn’t go letting too many people know what you do, mate. You lot aren’t our favourite people.’ He took a long pull of his beer and looked at Dave over the rim.
‘Miner, are you? Work for a company or yourself?’ Dave asked, trying to work out what he should say so he didn’t put his new acquaintance offside. Spencer hadn’t warned him about this type of reaction.
‘Something like that,’ Jeremy said with a wink. ‘I own a few leases up north and have me own smelter. That bloody Spencer Brown came and searched me shed a while back, but he didn’t find anything. All the gold I had there was me own. Bloody git, he must think I’m stupid.’
Dave wasn’t sure which type of stupid he meant—that he was silly enough to steal gold, or that he’d keep what he did steal in his shed.
Jeremy gave a nod towards his friends. ‘Best get back, but I’m sure we’ll see each other from time to time. You boys never
