Page 25 of Wings Above the Mallee

‘Hello, love,’ Tracey called. ‘Roni mentioned that you’d cut back on the farm to take on the post contract.’

The guy moved out of his awkward crouch, almost tumbling from the vehicle, then stretched with a grimace. ‘Lachlan Mac was keen to take on some extra hectares to share farm, so I figured that after five years of doing a job the old man set up for me, I should probably find something myself.’ He waved at the van. ‘Contracts don’t come up until the new financial year, but Brody needed someone to do the run while he and his missus are away on that cruise. Thought I’d give it a spin. This “get on the road and be your own boss” gig seemed like it would be a winner.’ Despite his words, the man’s tone was uncertain. ‘But I tell you, lived here all my life and I never realised how many roadside delivery boxes there are in the district. And I didn’t allow for all the parcels, either,’ he added, gesturing for them to look inside the van. The rear was piled high with boxes and padded bags of all shapes and sizes. ‘I’m delivering everything from mufflers to live bees.’

‘Sean would be one of your roadside deliveries, then? He’s out at the old Wegener place. You know, the one Marian’s husband took over?’ Tracey asked. ‘Though that would have been before you were born. Oh, sorry, Sean Brennan, this is Ryan Smithton.’

‘Wait.’ Ryan squeezed his eyes shut. ‘Brennan. RSD 691, Frahn Road, right? It’s a sideways milk churn. Was painted red, mostly just rusted now. Has the mother of all huntsman spiders living in it.’

Sean chuckled. ‘You’re right. Though I can’t say I’ve seen the huntsman.’

‘That’s because she likes to hitch a ride on your outgoing mail,’ Ryan said in a woebegone tone. ‘Number of times I’ve had to double back to your box to drop her home … But don’t worry, yours isn’t the only roadside mailbox with a resident.’ He shook Sean’s hand. ‘Nice to meet you, in any case. Hey, wait up … Are you one of the guys rattling old Dave’s cage by talking about setting up a skatepark?’

‘I don’t know that we set out to rattle any cages but, yeah, it’d be my granddaughter’s—’ he hesitated ‘—friend, Ethan, who came up with the idea.’

‘Well, you got Dave worked up all right, so buy this Ethan a beer for me, okay?’ Ryan grinned. ‘Dave’s a narky old bugger, always complaining about his mail being wet even though his box is an ag chemical drum nailed to the fence. May as well be a rain gauge, seeing as it collects every drop.’ He turned back to the van. ‘I’m getting a bit old for that kind of thing myself, but my bro, Alex, will be all over a skatepark. We could do with a bit of life in this town.’

‘You’re not too old,’ Tracey said. ‘It’s only a few years since you were in nappies, love, and I should know! Besides, you’re a good ten years younger than Ethan.’

Lucky Heath wasn’t around to hear that one. ‘Why don’t you and Alex come along to the next meeting?’ Sean suggested. ‘It’s open house, we’re keen to hear everyone’s thoughts. And we won’t get any action unless locals are there pushing for it. And pushing back against those who aren’t so eager.’

Ryan snorted. ‘Dave, you mean? Tempting as that makes it, I’m kind of full-on, man.’ He gestured at the parcels, as though he expected to still be delivering them when the meeting was on. ‘What with this, and still doing some work out at Roni’s farm. But I’ll give Alex a heads-up, see if he’s keen.’

Sean recognised the blow-off. Apathy was always the biggest stumbling block in getting any new idea moving. ‘No worries. Hope we’ll see at least one of you there, then.’

‘Goodness, this skateboard thing really seems to be taking off,’ Tracey said, clicking her tongue at Bear, who had taken the interruption as an excuse to lie down. His pointy black ears swivelled and he slowly lumbered to his feet. ‘It’s incredible you’ve already got this up and running.’

‘I think we’re a long way from that,’ Sean said, though in truth, it was rather nice to have accolades directed his way. It had been a while. ‘We’re not even walking, never mind running. And it sounds like Dave is drumming up support for his anti-campaign.’

Tracey shook her head, seeming oblivious to the wind blowing her wild curls every which way. ‘No, love, this is going to take off. I can feel it. The way you whipped everyone into line at the meeting, I’ve never seen anything like it. What were you doing before you came to Settlers?’

His heart stuttered before he realised the question wasn’t particularly personal. He’d become too immersed in Heath’s need for seclusion and privacy. ‘Corporate work. Allied health services. Took a bit of a step back and a change in direction a few years ago, though.’ A ‘step back’ being a euphemism for a golden handshake designed to quietly move a high-functioning alcoholic off the department’s wage book.

‘To become a farmer? You’re running a few sheep out there, I hear?’

Of course she had. ‘I am. But, no, I went into life coaching. Just haven’t really got back into it since we moved here.’

‘Life coaching. I can imagine you’d be good at that, love.’

‘Oh, you know what life coaching is?’

‘Not a clue,’ Tracey said airily. ‘But you’ve got that manner about you. Likeable, that’s what you are. Down to earth, my friend Marian would have said. And she had a fine eye for picking out the gems in a mullock heap.’

He chuckled. ‘Mullock heap? That what Settlers Bridge is?’

‘Oh, not at all. Though I don’t mind telling you, a few years back it wasn’t as lively as it is now.’

‘Lively?’ He struggled not to sound too disbelieving.

‘I’ll say. It’s so exciting to see everything happening in Settlers Bridge over the last few years.’

‘Such as?’ Although the main street boasted some impressive sandstone buildings, and he was thrilled with the service the GP offered, it seemed the town was stuck in a somnolent time warp, content to exist rather than thrive. Dave’s opposition to the skatepark—or any progress, apparently—attested to that. On the other hand, he thought, mentally evening up the scoreboard, the majority of attendees at the RAG meeting hadn’t been adamantly opposed to growth, although it was clear they wanted to retain their country roots.

‘Well, there’s Roni’s animal rescue, Gabrielle’s inn, Lucie’s … Oh, I’m never sure what to call her thing. It’s like a chemist, but she only uses plants and good stuff, you know? And then there’s Samantha—’ She shook her head as though this last was beyond belief. ‘Well, I’m not too sure about that one, but if the talk at the CWA is true, we might lose Ploughs and Pies. Of course, that doesn’t mean we’ll get something to replace it, which will be a shame.’

‘Maybe you should look into opening a cafe?’

Tracey giggled. ‘Oh, goodness me, no. I’d love to help out with the baking, but running a business? Oh, no, no, not for me.’ She pointed across the road to a dusty shopfront, the window emblazoned with gilt lettering. ‘Though, if I was going to open a shop, I’d get Tractors and Tarts up and running again.’

‘Interesting name.’

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