drove slowly through the gracious city of Grafton and admired the generous plantings of its famous jacaranda trees, its handsome Victorian buildings and spacious streets. Then she headed out of town along the road that hugged the western bank of the river.
The land here was a sodden, sandy sponge all year round and through it the water surfaced in a thousand random puddles. The early afternoon sky was overcast and everywhere Annie looked, mirrors were glinting with a grey sheen. She wished that her father could see this place. That he could feel the moisture seep into his bones and be restored. Annie wiped at her damp forehead. The warmth and humidity melted the boundary between skin and air, making it hard to tell where her skin ended and the air began. She was dissolving into the landscape.
Reluctantly leaving the close embrace of the Clarence behind, Annie steered the van some way inland towards the settlement of Lawrence. She would find the meandering river there again and load the van onto the ferry for the crossing. Clouds were now hanging low on the horizon and Annie drove her sleeping cargo into a sensuous autumn mist. A flurry of moisture smeared the windscreen. For the first time since the RoadMaster had left Melbourne, the wipers were put to good use.
The road ahead was a beaten belt of pewter through the fabric of soft grey fog. Jewels of flashing red and blue lights pierced the gloom. Annie slowed and could make out the word ‘Detour’ on a bright yellow sign.
The rain was really coming down now. Drops, fattened on the peaks of the mountains to the west, exploded on the glass in front of her face. Peering through the deluge, Annie could vaguely see a shiny tangle of wet metal and the ghostly forms of people wading through ankle-deep water. She leaned out of the window to speak to a police officer in a see-through plastic shroud.
‘Truck crash!’ He cupped his hands to shout against the wind. ‘Where you headed?’
‘Angourie,’ Annie shouted back. A gust tore her voice away. The rain was driving almost horizontally through the open window and soaking her shirt-front.
‘Could take hours to clear. You’ll have to take the detour up through the Summerland Highway, and then double back down through Casino.’
‘Casino?’ Annie was sceptical. She knew the lay of the land by now. ‘That’ll take all day!’
‘You could probably camp here overnight in this thing.’ His index finger stabbed a hole through the fog. ‘As long as you get right off the road and don’t become a traffic hazard. Otherwise, if you want to get to the coast tonight, Casino’s your best bet.’
Annie gave a thumbs-up and wound the window tight. According to the map, there was another way to go. She could skirt The Broadwater, go up through Tullymorgan, and then rejoin the Pacific Highway somewhere between Jacky Bulbin Flat and Mororo Road. They should make Angourie in time for a walk on the beach at sunset. She waved her thanks to the plastic-wrapped form of the man in blue and moved off.
Staring through the pelting rain, Annie drove slowly and found the signs she was looking for. She congratulated herself that she was doing well in handling the big machine. And why not? After all, she’d been driving the tractor on the farm since she was ten. The roads were flat, shining panes of water; in the rear-vision mirror she saw the van was leaving a fair wake in its path. She could, she reflected, be steering an old-time paddle-steamer up a river in the Congo.
‘Where in God’s name are we?’ Meredith climbed into the front seat, rubbing her eyes and pulling at her rumpled clothes. She wiped a patch of moisture from her window and squinted through it. ‘I can’t see a damned thing, and it’s absolutely bucketing down.’
‘There was a truck crash back a bit, so I’m negotiating my way around it.’ Annie threw the map to Meredith and pointed. ‘It’s that bit there.’
Meredith found her reading glasses and stared at the damp square in front of her, turning it this way and then that, as if she was trying to decipher the runic symbols on an ancient scroll.
‘Annie, we’re in the middle of nowhere! The Pacific Highway’s miles away. How did we get here?’
‘Just help me, alright?’ Annie was in no mood for one of Meredith’s lectures. The van’s air-conditioning was still at full bore and Annie, in her damp shirt, was now