Dilaby Ridge

Dilaby Ridge

Stefan de Frères

Moorna Publications

Text copyright © Stefan de Frères 2012

ISBN: 978-1-922105-08-0

Smashwords Edition

The moral rights of the author have been asserted.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted by any means or entity, including internet search engines or retailers, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying (except under statutory exceptions provisions of the Australian Copyright Act 1968), recording, scanning or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of Moorna Publications.

*****

This book is a work of fiction.

No part of the contents relate to any real person or persons,

living or dead

*****

For Julia

Friend and editor

*****

Dilaby Ridge

Part One

1

"Watch out!" Katrina screamed as the large wallaby darted out from the edge of the sugarcane paddock and across the path of the oncoming old VW camper van.

Drake’s eyes, which up until then had been gradually drooping, flew open as he slammed his foot down hard on the brakes and reflex jerked on the steering wheel, pulling the vehicle sharply to the near side of the road.

The camper van’s near side front wheel bumped against the hump of the edge of the raised verge of the roadside, causing him to need to correct his over reaction so as to avoid ploughing a swathe through some unknown farmer’s crops or rolling the vehicle over.

Loose road gravel sprayed up from the vehicle’s rear wheels as it swerved slightly before finally coming to a skidding halt at the side of the road, leaving Katrina and Drake both panting for breath at the shock of their near miss accident.

What the bloody hell did you do that for? Drake yelled at Katrina as soon as he had regained sufficient breath to put some force behind his words. You could have got us both killed by shouting at me like that when I was zoned out!

Zoned out! she yelled back at him in wild green eyed anger at his accusation. Bloody zoned out! More like being practically sound asleep behind the sodding wheel you idiot. She tossed back at him. If I hadn’t have yelled when I did we’d have had mashed kangaroo all over the front of this heap of a van by now.

I wasn’t nearly asleep. He shouted back at her. If I can stay up and fully awake for forty eight hours or more at a time plastering walls, and then going out partying hard at the clubs back home, I can bloody well handle sitting here on my arse behind this lousy steering wheel for a couple of days.

Yeah sure you can, but you’re forgetting we both did a thirty odd hour plane trip before that to get us here. Katrina reminded him none too gently. You didn’t get much sleep all the way, and just because you were sitting on your arse, it doesn’t mean you were getting any rest then either. You haven’t had any real sleep for near on four days now.

I can get all the sleep I need once we get to Cape Tribulation, so shut up banging on about it will you and let me get us there. He told her as he reached for the ignition keys to restart the VW’s engine, which had stalled as it came to such a sudden standstill.

They had purchased the near wreck of a camper van from a roadside backpacking vendor, who was about to leave Australia to continue his globe trotting journey through Thailand, Vietnam, and other parts of South East Asia.

The two parties had closed the sale deal on the camper shortly after the newly arrived couple had stepped out of the Sydney International Airport arrivals hall.

Drake had been of the opinion that he’d landed a great deal in purchasing the aging vehicle, and had gotten a real bargain for his few thousand dollars as the van had come complete with many ‘extras’ that left him feeling that the asking price had been a steal.

However, he could quite easily tell that his enthusiasm wasn’t shared by Katrina, as she’d constantly screwed up her pretty face in displeasure every time some little thing didn’t meet her exacting standards ever since.

Drake knew his girlfriend had said something as he saw her lips moving as the VW’s engine roared back to life, but had been unable to catch a word of what she’d said above the noise of the ‘not quite roadworthy’ exhaust muffler.

What was that? he asked as he shifted the gear stick into the ‘drive’ position and pulled back onto the left hand side of the highway to resume their journey northward.

When she narrowed her eyes and squeezed her mouth closed in a tight lipped way, she was trying her best to show him that she wasn’t about to repeat herself if he wasn’t bothering to listen to what she had to say, so he added, I hope it wasn’t more of your bloody whinging.

Katrina glanced across at him angrily, and unable to keep her temper in check any longer she told him, I said, I knew we should have just got a connecting flight onto Cairns from Sydney. We could have sorted out transport of some sort from there instead of driving all the way in this wreck for three days.

Drake wriggled around in his seat in an attempt to try and make his dully aching body more comfortable, but nothing seemed to help, so he gave up and just hunched over the steering wheel and stared straight at the road ahead while continuing their argument.

Like I told you before, I checked it all out before we left the UK, and it would have added over another thousand bucks onto the price of our air tickets between us both. So while we’ll still be forking out about five hundred bucks in petrol to get us both up to the Cape from Sydney, we’ll still be better off by five hundred, AND we have our own private accommodation for the next year into the bargain too, he told her. Stroke of genius buying this bus I reckon.

His irritation, compounded by the endless hours of driving and non-sleeping led him to end with a more personal jab at Katrina, Of course, if you’d managed to save up a bit more money instead of just frittering it away on bloody clothes and night clubbing we wouldn’t need to be having this conversation right now anyway, because we would have had more money to pay for connecting flights and more of the other luxury crap that you love to go in for, wouldn’t we?

You’re a right one to talk. She blurted out angrily at his jibe, tossing her dead straight, near waist length, natural platinum blonde hair to one side. It’s not as though you’ve ever been one for saving money yourself in case you’ve forgotten. So I could say the self same thing to you too.

Yeah, you might, but you seem to be forgetting that I make a good screw as a house plasterer so I can afford the finer things of life, not like little shop serving girls like you do. He told her nastily.

If you wanted someone who could have made a bigger financial contribution instead of a sexy looking lass with a fantastic wardrobe like me, you should have shacked up with one of those better paid bloated bullfrogs from your contracting office while you were still back in Leeds. She pointed out fluttering her eyelashes at him.

That’s okay babe, you know I only have eyes for you. Besides, I’m sure we’ll find some way that you can pay me back and make me feel better about it all. He told her grinning as he reached his left hand across the driving cab area of the VW toward her, and placed his hand on Katrina’s shapely upper right thigh where her denim shorts ended, and began sliding his fingers upward beneath them.

She made as if to pull away from his roving hand as she informed him sourly, My hair is greasy, I haven’t shaved my legs in days, and my skin feels totally gross. I bet even you wouldn’t want to have sex with me right now, as randy as you always are.

I could always pull up for ten minutes so we can check that out if you like." He suggested as he made a more determined effort at pushing the fabric of her shorts up and inched his prying fingers toward one of his most favourite regions of her body.

Cut it out, and pay attention to the road will you! she ordered, jerking her leg away from under his hand and giving him one of her darkest looks. We’ve already had more than enough excitement for the one day thank you.

Well, you brought the subject of sex up, not me, so don’t go getting all prudish now. Drake replied as he stretched his hand back across the space dividing them to give her a quick pinch on the tender inner part of her thigh causing her to squeal in pain, before returning his hand back to the steering wheel.

She rubbed at the painful pinch spot on her thigh as she told him, Even if the fact that I stink like a polecat doesn’t turn you off sex, the fact that you stink worse than me certainly doesn’t do much at all to turn me on, so you’re totally out of luck. She said flatly.

She turned her attention to looking out of the side window of the vehicle at the seemingly endless stream of sugarcane crops flashing past, punctuated only by the odd ‘highest Queenslander’ farm house or large lower line building of a farm shed.

As far as she was concerned it shouldn’t be any real wonder to Drake that she didn’t want him to pull over for half an hour so he could satisfy one of his sudden, and frequent sexual urges, using her body as the recipient of his lust, when he didn’t seem to know, or care, how to show a girl a good time in exchange.

She had kidded herself that things would be better between them without their everyday working life to get in the way of having fun once they got to Australia, but now her realisation that she’d been misleading herself all along didn’t help her already mercurial temperament in the slightest.

After a few moments of uneasy silence between them Drake told her, If you don’t fancy showing a mate a good time, the least you could do would be to take over driving for a bit.

I thought you said you could handle it all by yourself. Katrina retorted as she crossed her arms in a gesture of defiance.

She knew that she was as capable of driving the camper as he was, but if he wanted to try and show how big and masculine he was by pushing himself into the ground to get them both to the Cape Tribulation holidaying area, he was more than welcome to go for it as far as she was concerned.

For her part she had no intention of being helpful toward achieving the task.

She was much too disappointed that her dreams of spending lazy afternoons napping around the side of swimming pools of five star resorts, or spending hours on end sunning herself on white sandy beaches had disappeared, and having them replaced with nightmarish endless dusty roads and lack of showering facilities to care what Drake wanted any longer.

Drake knew it wasn’t worth pushing the point further so said no more on the subject.

He knew Katrina could be as stubborn as a mule sometimes so there was no point harping on about the subject.

His hope in bringing her with him to Australia had been that she’d learn to relax a bit more and not stress out all the time. He’d also been hoping she might get over some of her addiction to all the material comforts she craved so much, but his hopes of that happening were fading fast as things stood.

So instead of continuing their argument he allowed himself to daydream about unpacking his newly acquired snorkelling gear, which was strapped onto the small roof rack above the cab area of the VW camper, and hitting the clear warm waters of the Coral Sea.

He was intending to use the gear to explore the world renowned Great Barrier Reef while he was in the area before they were forced to head south again to top up the dwindling holidaying funds by picking up a bit of itinerant work somewhere.

His daydreaming fantasy of rounding a huge branch of colourful coral reef to find a well-endowed, naked Australian beauty beckoning to him to come and enjoy the promising pleasures of her voluptuous body was just beginning to really take shape in his sleep deprived brain when Katrina wrecked it for him by speaking once again.

I’m hot. She complained in a whiny voice. You’d think that they’d fit air conditioning in these combie vans that actually works, wouldn’t you?

Jerking himself back into full wakefulness Drake replied, It’s hardly surprising that the air con in this old bus doesn’t work when you remember that we only paid three grand for the bugger. Including all the extra camping gear and other stuff chucked into the bargain. He reminded her. Besides, what’s wrong with using two-eighty anyway?

What’s that? Katrina asked, sounding more like a spoilt two year old kid rather than a mature twenty two year old woman.

Two windows wound down, and eighty Ks an hour, just the sort of speed we’ve been travelling the whole time, he grinned. You really have got to get with the Aussie lingo if we’re gonna be spending the whole year travelling around over here babe. He told her light heartedly.

Ha-bloody-ha, that’s so funny, I don’t think. She replied sarcastically. Perhaps it might work better if the air outside the car was actually cooler than the air inside. She said.

Look, you’re just being so arsey about everything because you’re hungry and tired. He told her semi sympathetically. How about I pull over at the next service station so we can stretch our legs a bit before getting back on the road again?

Katrina didn’t bother dignifying his half hearted attempt at kindness with a response, even though she did actually appreciate the effort he was making.

Neither of them spoke again until Drake pulled the VW camper in beside a petrol bowser on a service station forecourt.

I’m going to fill this beastie up. We don’t know what places will be open further up ahead, and I don’t want to find we’re out of fuel just a few clicks short of our target. Drake told Katrina as he shifted the gear stick of the combie into ‘park’ and turned off the engine. You can go take a leak, or whatever takes your fancy while I fill up. Oh, and check out what sort of munchies they’ve got inside while you’re at it will ya?"

Katrina just poked her tongue out at him before pushing open her side passenger door to clamber out and head off inside the mini supermarket area of the service station in front of where the camper was parked.

She was hoping to gain a few minutes of relief from the seemingly ever present sticky heat outside by spending them in the air-conditioned interior of the service station building, but knew only too well that the moment she stepped back outside again she’d feel just as bad as she had before going in, but she considered any break from it all was better than none at all.

Drake unlocked the petrol cap on the fuel tank of the old VW combie camper and placed the fuel delivery nozzle into it before engaging the automatic ‘tank full’ cut-out mechanism within the handle.

He leaned back against the side of the vehicle with his hands deep in his jeans pockets while the tank filled, and stared out across the unfamiliar landscape toward the direction of setting sun.

He couldn’t help but begin to wonder if he may have made a mistake in bringing Katrina on this trip to Australia with him for a moment.

Sure, she was a good looking chick to have draped on your arm when hanging out with a crowd, and the ‘benefits’ she handed out when things were going her way were among the best he’d ever sampled, but she could be a moody, bad tempered cow when they weren’t, just as she had been acting ever since they had bought the camper from that bloke outside the airport in Sydney.

He had thought that getting her away from the continual hustle and bustle of Leeds city in the UK, and out into the Aussie countryside would be a meaningful and enjoyable experience for the both of them, but all Katrina had seemed to do since they’d arrived was whinge on about the lack of having her usual ten hour sleeping stints, and personal pampering sessions in the health spa places she enjoyed frequenting back in England.

Her continual complaints were only serving to goad him into completing the journey between their starting out point of Sydney in New South Wales, and Cape Tribulation, in far north Queensland as quickly as possible.

He was hoping that once they reached their destination she would begin to relax and quit with the sulking and bad moods all the time.

He was now determined that he should see them parked up in some beachside camping area in the Cape Tribulation area, with a couple of ice cold beers inside him for his efforts, by no later than midday the next day at the very latest if all things went according to plan.

Taking one hand out of his jeans pocket he used it to try and thumb away the tiredness from his pale grey eyes and slid the palm of his hand over his short cropped jet black hair before returning his attention to the fuel delivery nozzle which had just disengaged, telling him that the fuel tank of the old combie van was full.

Katrina took her own sweet time over getting the provisions that would see them both fed and watered over the next leg of their journey, but it wasn’t only because she was enjoying the air-conditioned air upon her skin while she was at it.

She was tired of the endless hours of driving, tired of grease laden and virtually tasteless fast food meals, and most of all she was getting tired of – and more than a little disappointed in – Drake himself. All she wanted to do right now was to spend as much time as she possibly could away from him.

She had finally admitted to herself that when her boyfriend of five years had mentioned a year long trip to travel around Australia, her overactive imagination had kicked into overdrive.

She had permitted herself to envision a year long life of luxury travel in the land-down-under, one of fun, sun, sea and sandy beaches.

It had never occurred to her for a moment to wonder about how they would ever have afforded to live such a decadent lifestyle. After all; Drake was the man, and he had the far better paying job of the two of them, so it was his job to work out those sorts of details, not hers.

The way she saw things was that it was her job to make sure she always looked pretty and remained entertaining around others they met along their way, but both of those tasks were now becoming increasingly difficult to keep up with as they travelled ever greater distances in the beat up old VW combie camper van, without access to decent showers and lady’s care facilities.

She was already beginning to wish that she’d remained back in Leeds to enjoy her friends company in their regular weekly round of the favourite nightclubs and other haunts.

It was close to fifteen minutes before Katrina returned to the camper van with a couple of large packets of flavoured potato chips and a couple of cold cans of fizzy drink.

Climbing back into her seat in the vehicle she placed them all on the floor between the two seats as she told Drake, There’s the greasy snack foods you ordered. There’s no chance of getting anything better than that in a dump like this anyway.

Drake bit back his own snappy retort and instead told her, After you’ve eaten your fill of our delightful dinner, which you know all too well is all we can expect to get while we’re on the move like we are, you can crash out on the bed in the back there while I carry on driving if you want. I’ll be right enough, and you might just wake up in a bit better mood later.

*****

2

By the time Steve Harper had completed his last drop off of household furnishings at a farming property in the Stewart Creek Valley, deep within the Daintree Forest late in the evening he knew his legal driving hours were all but expired, so he’d need to find somewhere to park up his B-Double rig for a few hours.

Even with the able assistance of a couple of likely looking local lads to help do some of the heavy work the job had taken longer than he’d expected, so he would have to spend his minium amount of enforced rest period hours not too far away.

Not that he was complaining about it, even if there’d been anyone else around to listen to it, as he certainly felt as though he needed a few good hours sleep anyway.

At fifty nine, coming up fast on sixty, Steve was a veteran of long distance heavy vehicle road travel.

He’d spent his entire working life behind the steering wheel of one make of truck or another since first qualifying for his heavy goods license at aged nineteen in the Australian army.

Years later, after fathering two sons he’d found himself divorced from his wife, when she’d finally decided after twenty years of marriage that she was sick of being left at home looking after them more or less alone while he was on the road somewhere constantly, so he’d settled down to the idea of spending the rest of his life alone.

Now his truck was as much his home as it was his mode of transport and earnings provider, all combined, and he was more than used to the relatively simple comforts it provided him, as the single bunk situated behind the air cushioned sprung cab seats was all he needed whenever he needed to get his head down for a few hours rest period before moving off once more.

Finally coming back upon it, Steve pulled his rig up into the pretty little spot he’d spied on his northward journey hours before.

The area was far enough off the main road to make it a peaceful place to spend his enforced, and much needed rest hours before he would be able to legally re-start up his truck once again and continue his south bound run fully refreshed.

His first run after that wasn’t all that far to go as it was at Mossman, where he was to pick up a backload of goods that would be offloaded again in Rockhampton, much farther down the north Queensland coast, provided of course, that the office girl back in the Victorian depot had planned everything for his trip out properly as she usually did.

Before drifting off to sleep Steve’s mind wandered off in thoughts of his future, as almost always happened when he wasn’t beaten into the ground by an extremely hard day’s work that left him falling to sleep as soon as his tired head hit his bunk pillow.

As a single man his financial needs were small and easily met while his savings bank balance continued to grow at a steady rate. One which would see him with all the money he ever expected he would need when he eventually retired from truck driving. Then he’d be able to add a significant sum to those savings in the form of his superannuation funds.

His plans were to then buy himself a decent four wheel drive vehicle that would be comfortably capable of towing a reasonable sized modern deluxe caravan, as his long term intention was to take up the life of a grey nomad, living permanently on the move until advanced old age, or serious ill health prevented him from doing so any longer. Then he would find a nice spot somewhere to park his caravan up to continue living in it until the day he died if his planning worked out.

He never even considered the idea of settling down in the one place until he might be forced into it at some stage in the future, because the very thought of having to live in the same place every day of his active lifespan made his head ache, and his stomach turn.

Life as a long distance truck driver had demonstrated to him that no place would ever be as wonderful as the place that would be just around the next bend in the road, as he had become a true rolling stone.

*****

It was a few minutes after seven the next morning that Steve settled himself back into the very comfortable driving seat of his highly polished Mack prime mover.

The huge truck was his pride and joy, and he’d not stinted in spending a small fortune in upgrading both the comfort of the interior, and the appearance of the exterior.

He had often been accused by his mates of treating the Mack as a male Bower Bird might do with fussing up its nest in order to attract a mate, but mating was no longer part of Steve’s most cherished desires, least not as much as it had once been when he had been a much younger, hot-blooded Aussie male and his testosterone levels saw him eager to return to his home and wife to take up where he’d left off in their marital bed during his previous home visit.

Then again he always reminded himself, one never knew what the angel of the future might toss his way, so he didn’t discount the concept of mating again from his mind totally.

A grin spread across his face as that thought flickered through his mind as he reached forward to start up the big diesel engine to allow it to warm up and charge up his air braking system before moving off.

After a very restful night of sleep Steve felt fighting fit, and ready to face yet another long day of driving on the interstate highways of the land he loved, Australia.

He hadn’t bothered to worry about sorting anything out for his breakfast as he knew he’d get a decent feed once he got into Mossman, roughly some thirty kilometres from where he was parked up, but while he waited for the Mack engine to reach its optimal operating temperature, and the air pressure to build up in the truck’s system he finished off the mug of coffee he’d made in his portable coffee maker when he’d first climbed out of his bunk space that morning.

He momentarily reflected upon the fact that next to his truck, his portable coffee maker, which plugged into the internal truck power system, was his most prized possession.

Having swallowed the last mouthful of aromatic coffee he rinsed out his mug from one of the one gallon jugs he always kept handy just behind his seat, then tossed the dirtied waste water out of his open cab window before stowing the mug away so that it wouldn’t end up falling on the floor and possibly breaking.

He’d had that same coffee mug for more years than he could remember, and a man tended to get sentimental about such minor things when his entire universe was compressed into the restricted space that his Mack granted him.

Steve settled his body – which he often joked with those he met in roadside cafe's he frequented, was built for stamina, not speed – and shifted the gear stick into the lowest range position, disengaged the park brake, and pushed his favourite Meat Loaf CD into the player so that the slightly overloud music poured out of the quad speakers of the cab.

As the big vehicle began its smooth forward motion he, in his own loud, and completely