Out of Alice Read Online Free

course.’ Sara hesitated, asked anyway. ‘Jack said something about your last governess leaving?’
    Beth grimaced, skin tight over prominent cheekbones. She looked as gaunt as the barren landscape outside, nerves stretched tight by worry and fear for her son. ‘Gela was Swedish and only nineteen. She couldn’t stand it. I suppose it
is
lonely for outsiders. I’ve had two others come, both young, but neither stayed. That’s why when I heard you were older – well, I thought you’d handle it better.’ She gave another grimace, this one comical. ‘You’re the last person I should be saying this to!’
    â€˜It’s okay,’ Sara soothed, feeling sympathy for the woman. Beth seemed stripped to essentials. Fear for a child could do that, she supposed. Or perhaps it was the cost of living out here. She was suddenly ashamed of the nebulous fears that had driven her to this isolated outpost. If their circumstances were reversed, she couldn’t imagine this plain-spoken bush woman doing as she had, because some man had frightened her. She’d probably take a shovel to him instead.
    â€˜If it would only rain.’ Beth sighed, then gave a small grin. ‘You’ll hear that a lot, Sara. It’s all people can think of, when the rain will come. Things will be so different then. This is pretty country, you know, in a good season. Really it is.’
    â€˜I’ll have to take your word on that because I’ve never seen anything so – so empty and desolate. We passed a few cattle at a tank, and I saw a dead cow and some crows, and about a billion grey trees. And that was it.’
    â€˜Mulga. Yes, but the sand country grows on you, if you let it. Well –’ Beth stood and collected the dirty mugs – ‘don’t be afraid to ask the kids about the place. They know how it all works, the land, the stock. They can teach you heaps. Because you’ll find everything easier if it makes sense, if you know why things happen.’ A smile flashed. ‘I need you to like the place, to stay. Anyway, there’re the goat bells now. Come on out and meet your pupils.’
    The children were at the goat yard, which lay between the last shed and the distant glitter of old bottles on the station rubbish dump. The animals milled about the yard where their young had been penned for the night, watching the women’s approach with calm, yellow eyes. Jess, the cattle bitch, accompanied them, sniffing Sara’s shoes before silently migrating to her companion’s side.
    This was Sam, the taller of the two children. He was plainly unwell, with that thin, fine-drawn look of chronic illness. He moved more slowly than his sister and the felt hat he wore rested almost on his ears, as if his head had somehow shrunk. He had Beth’s brown eyes, but the flesh below them looked bruised against his pale skin.
    â€˜Hello,’ he said politely in response to his mother’s introduction. He looked puzzled. ‘It’s not Friday. How did you get here?’
    â€˜With your uncle,’ Sara responded.
    â€˜Uncle Jack’s home?’ the little girl squealed. ‘Cool. Are you gonna teach us now, instead of Mum?’
    â€˜Yes, Becky,’ Sara said. ‘But I hope you and Sam are going to help me learn about the station too. There’s so much I don’t know. For instance, why have you locked up the baby goats?’
    It was Sam, amazed by her ignorance, who answered. ‘So we can milk the nannies in the morning.’
    â€˜Oh, so you use goat’s milk. Is it nice?’
    He shrugged, at a loss. ‘It’s milk.’
    Beth smiled faintly. ‘Not helpful, Sam.’ To Sara she said, ‘You had some in your tea.’
    That explained the odd taste. Feeling a fraud, Sara smiled at both children. ‘There, you’ve already taught me something.’
    â€˜I’m gonna see Uncle Jack,’ Becky declared