Read Online Out of Alice by Kerry McGinnis - Free Book Online

himself to another. ‘Up to her, really.’
    â€˜I am sitting here,’ Sara said. ‘What about some details before I decide? Like, how far is it, and how long will it take? I have dinner to cook, remember.’
    â€˜It’s a bore about twenty k out. We’d leave after school – say three o’clock, check the bore, boil the billy and return. Allowing for everything short of a wheel collapse, we’d be home by five.’
    â€˜That seems doable,’ Sara agreed. ‘I would like to come, thank you.’
    â€˜That’s settled, then.’ He favoured Becky with a stagey wink. ‘You reckon she might pack some of these cakes for smoko?’
    â€˜You might need to take more grease for the mill,’ Len put in from his end of the table. ‘The tin was about empty last time I was there. The cakes are great, Sara. Just shows –’ his eyes twinkled – ‘here I was thinking city women couldn’t cook.’
    Jack grimaced. ‘Marilyn certainly couldn’t. So, is the job living up to expectations, Sara?’
    â€˜I told you I didn’t have any preconceptions,’ Sara replied, wondering who Marilyn was. Of course she had been too desperate to even consider what her new life would be like. ‘But I like the life. Especially the mornings. It’s so wonderful waking to the birds instead of traffic.’ She relished the sound of the magpies, the crowing of the cocks that mingled with the half-caught dreams that sometimes played at the edge of consciousness. Before coming to Redhill her dreams had been less frequent and those that came were darker, and filled with a nebulous anxiety. Jack was watching her and she tossed her head self-consciously. ‘I think I must’ve been a country girl in another life.’
    â€˜You’re right about the mornings, though.’ Len stood and pushed his chair in as Jack also rose. ‘Best part of the whole day.’
    â€˜I think so too. What time should Beth reach the Alice?’ There, she was even beginning to sound like a Territorian.
    â€˜She’ll ring when she does.’
    â€˜Should I fetch you – if you’re round, of course?’
    â€˜Just take a message; we’ll speak tonight.’
    â€˜Of course.’ She had forgotten it was all STD out here. Sara rose, crooking her finger at her pupil. ‘School, Becky. We have to finish early today because I’ve got a special project planned.’
    â€˜What?’ She bounced eagerly to her feet. ‘Tell me!’
    Sara smiled. ‘It’s a surprise, but a nice one, I promise you. Go and get started on your sums while I clear up.’
    â€˜Will you be long?’
    Sara reseated a comb and wrinkled her nose at her. ‘Depends. I have to find a recipe for frog’s eyes, remember.’

8
    When lessons were over Sara produced the ringbinder she had filled with sheets cut from manila folders to serve as an album. ‘It’s a scrapbook,’ she explained. ‘I thought you might like to make your own collection of pictures and stories about yourself and your life on the station. Because it is sort of special, you know. People like me, from the city, don’t understand it at all. So it’d be like a pioneer’s diary. You can cover the pages in pretty paper if you like – your mum gave me some gift wrapping – and you can draw pictures and colour them in, or cut them out of magazines and paste them, or use photographs. Whatever you like.’
    Becky fingered the stiff sheets, eyes bright with dawning possibilities. ‘Did you make one when you were a kid?’
    â€˜No, but then, I had no one to help me, or buy me things. Your mum said you can raid her sewing box for bits of lace and ribbon. And if you keep your birthday cards . . .’
    Becky nodded vigorously.
    â€˜Well, there’s heaps of pictures on them you could cut out and use. What do you