Chapter 63
‘Where you heading, anyway?’ Barry said, one hand on the steering wheel, eyes on the road ahead.
Sophie wasn’t sure what to make of the laconic stranger who had stopped to help them, but he had kind eyes. Pale blue, the colour of his cotton shirt, and crinkled at the corners. You could tell a lot about someone from their eyes, Sophie thought.
They’d only waited fifteen minutes for a car to pass, but that was long enough.
By the time Barry stopped, the temperature was dropping as the sun sank in the west. Sophie had rummaged through the bags to find jumpers for the kids, not sure how long they’d be out there.
She was coming to terms with the idea of sleeping in the car when a dirty ute rolled to a stop behind her Subaru.
He’d taken one look at the situation and got out his towing equipment.
‘I’ll take you back to my joint,’ he’d said. ‘We can sort out the tyre in the morning.’
Sophie had thought of that English couple who’d gone missing on an outback road years ago—they’d made a movie about it.
She’d watched it with Ryan. Two solid hours of backpackers being terrorised by a psychopath who kept them locked in a farm shed—but what choice did they have?
She’d ushered the kids into the back seat of his ute.
She cleared her throat. ‘Ah … just to Mount Isa,’ she said, glancing at the kids who sat stiffly in the back. ‘To visit my brother.’ Harvey pulled a face. Sophie shot him a reassuring smile and turned back to Barry. ‘How much further to your place?’
‘Not far,’ he said.
Sophie sighed quietly. Not far. Did that mean five minutes or an hour? Given the distances out here, it was probably the latter. She looked out the window where the first stars were piercing the inky sky.
Ten minutes later, Barry slowed down as the speed limit dropped and they drove down the wide main street of a small town, lights glowing inside scattered homes.
‘Welcome to Willandra,’ he said, turning into a dusty driveway that ran alongside a pub with a corrugated-iron roof. ‘This is home.’
‘We got room for four more?’ Barry asked, as they stepped inside. ‘I found this lot on the side of the road.’
The kids looked around, wide-eyed, surveying the walls that were obscured by historical photos, Akubra hats and sporting memorabilia.
Bras hung from the ceiling at the far end of the room where a man with a long white beard sat at a wine-barrel table next to a sign that said, Old Fart’s Corner.
The hum of voices came through a corridor that led to the dining room, according to a sign above the door.
The woman behind the bar gave a raspy chuckle. ‘Of course!’ she said, flipping open a big book with a maroon leather cover. Sophie studied her face as she ran her finger down the page. It was tough but warm. Sophie sensed she’d lived a life.
‘There’s no one in the Outstation, Baz,’ the woman said. ‘They can bunk there.’
‘Righto.’ He gave her a nod.
Sophie wondered vaguely what the Outstation was—hopefully it was different from an outhouse—but they were hardly in a position to be choosy.
‘I’m Barb, anyway,’ she said. ‘Baz’s wife.’
Sophie introduced herself and the kids, figuring they were far enough from Carrinya for their names not to matter.
‘You lot look thirsty,’ Barb said to the kids. ‘What’s your poison?’
The kids looked back, blank-faced. ‘What do you want to drink?’ Sophie translated. ‘Lemonade?’
‘Yes, please,’ they said, nodding vigorously.
‘Take a load off.’ Barb gestured to the bar stools and reached for some menus. ‘I reckon you’ll be hungry too. Let me guess …’ She pointed to Harvey. ‘You like chicken nuggets.’
Once their bellies were full, Barb took a key from a rack behind the bar.
‘Follow me,’ she said, leading them down the corridor past the dining room and out the back door into the cold night.
There was a line of doors to what looked like motel rooms. Sophie yearned to spend the night in one of them, but Barb kept walking.
‘Where are we going?’ Harvey whispered. Sophie gave a tiny shrug and took his little hand.
They crossed a dusty paddock towards a small building with a porch light on. Insects buzzed in the yellow glow.
‘This is you.’ Barb unlocked the door and pushed it open to reveal a small cabin. ‘Two bedrooms, internal loo. Should do you nicely for the night.’
Sophie could see a bunk bed in the closest room, made up with crisp white sheets. A rolled white bath towel sat on the end of each. Two conflicting emotions jostled inside her. Relief at the thought of surrendering to sleep in this little sanctuary, and panic at the potential cost.
‘It’s on the house,’ Barb added as though she could read her mind. ‘That’s your room, kids.’ She pointed at the first door. ‘Go pick your beds.’
‘Bags the top bunk!’ Charlie called, running towards the door. Jaz and Harvey followed.
‘This is for you.’ Barb handed her the key.
Sophie took a shaky breath, moved by the generosity of these kind strangers. ‘I don’t know what to say …’
‘Least we can do,’ Barb said, with a wave of her hand. ‘Baz’ll take you up to Longreach in the morning to sort out the tyre. You’ll be back on the road in no time.’