Home Before Sundown by Barbara Hannay Page B

sounded surprised, which was understandable. ‘Isn’t he your neighbour?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜Well, that’s okay then. I suppose Gabe’s being helpful then – pushing breaks as a favour?’
    â€˜He likes to think so.’
    Liz apparently chose to ignore the tartness in Bella’s voice. ‘It’s very good of him.’
    No , Bella wanted to shout. He’s making out he’s doing us a favour, but he’s showing me up. It’s his favourite pastime .
    â€˜He thinks he’s––’ Bella stopped. She really didn’t want to talk about Gabe.
    Besides, she’d just noticed that Liz’s eyes and nose were decidedly pink as if she’d been crying. ‘Liz, are you okay? Have you been worrying about Dad?’
    â€˜Yes,’ her aunt sniffed, but then she grimaced guiltily. ‘Actually it’s not just Peter. It’s that damn country music you told me to listen to. Those songs are so bloody sad. All about breaking up and lonely nights and people making terrible mistakes.’
    â€˜Well, yes. That’s what country music’s famous for.’
    Bella was surprised that the sentimental songs had touched her worldly aunt. ‘I suppose that’s why they’re so popular,’ she said. ‘But you like opera. Isn’t that all about tragedy, too?’
    â€˜Opera’s different. It’s pure melodrama. This music’s so down to earth and – I don’t know – personal .’ Liz gave a soft, self-deprecating laugh. ‘Don’t look at me like that, Bella. I’m only human, after all. If you prick us, do we not bleed?’
    Trust Liz to try to cover up with Shakespeare.
    As Bella drove on through the darkening bush, she was puzzled by the fact that a simple country singer had reduced her calm, super-sophisticated aunt to tears. What did it mean? Was Liz truly anxious about coming home?
    She might have quizzed Liz if she’d felt stronger, but her encounter with Gabe had left her feeling tense and vulnerable, which was the last thing she wanted. If she was to get this job done, she needed to be tough.
    It was close to dark by the time they reached the home paddocks. Bella cast a quick eye over the quietly grazing cattle – mostly pregnant heifers and cows with calves, kept close to the house so they could be monitored and more easily fed with supplements.
    Finally Liz opened the gate in the purple bougainvillea hedge and Bella drove through to the homestead. She’d been waiting for this for so long, and she wondered, again, what her aunt was feeling after all these years.
    But if Liz felt nostalgic, she didn’t let on as she stood, stretching her back and letting her gaze travel over the house – a traditional, sprawling Queenslander with wrap-around verandahs, shadowy in the twilight, an iron roof sweeping low.
    â€˜The old place looks a bit tired,’ was all she said.
    â€˜The wilted garden doesn’t help.’ Bella winced at the sight of the brown and shrivelled plants in her mum’s beloved garden. Over in the veggie patch, vines had withered and fallen tomatoes lay rotting on the ground. Even the hardy spider lilies that bordered the front steps were struggling in the heat.
    â€˜The house needs a good coat of paint.’
    Bella shrugged, slightly annoyed by the implied criticism from her aunt who’d been away for decades. She’d been fighting edginess and a downbeat vibe ever since her conversation with Gabe, and now, for the first time in her life, she was coming home to a dark and silent, empty house.
    During the whole time she’d been away, whenever she’d thought about this house, she’d envisaged it filled with light and warmth and with the family she loved.
    Get over it. You’re tough now, remember?
    Reaching into the glove box she extracted the heavy set of keys. ‘Let’s get our things inside and think about