Crow Country by Kate Constable Read Free Book Online

had fought the whole town council, when the war memorial was built, to have Jimmy’s name put on it, too. They said it couldn’t be done, because Jimmy hadn’t enlisted in Boort; he’d joined up down in Melbourne. But Dad said he belonged in Boort as much as anyone, and deserved to have his name up there with the rest. After all, Bert Murchison had joined up in Melbourne, too, and no one said he should be left off.
    At last, Mr Mortlock had backed up Dad, and that was the end of that. No one in Boort dared to argue with Mr Mortlock. He’d fought in the War with Dad and Jimmy, too. And, after all, he was the one who’d given Jimmy a job at Invergarry when the War was over.
    Even so, Sadie was sure that Mr Mortlock had never given Jimmy tea in the best china. Only Dad did that.
    But Jimmy was always very polite, and called Dad ‘Mr Hazzard’, even if there was no one else around. This was the first time, the only time, Sadie had ever heard him call Dad ‘Lofty’.
    Dad pushed away his cup. ‘Spit it out then.’
    Jimmy hung his head, and his sigh seemed to come up from the bottom of his boots. ‘It’s like this, see.’ He was silent for a long moment. Then he said, ‘Suppose you’re given something to look after. Something precious, something—’ He glanced across at Dad. ‘Something sacred. And suppose you knew that a person was planning to do something that would destroy that sacred thing. What would you do?’
    Dad considered. ‘I’d have to move that thing to somewhere safe, wouldn’t I?’
    Jimmy’s grin split his face for a second, then he shook his head. ‘Can’t move this thing.’
    â€˜Well, what about—’ Dad began, but he was interrupted by another knock at the back door. This time it was not a polite tap, but a peremptory rapping.
    â€˜Excuse me,’ said Dad. ‘It’s like Flinders Street Station in here tonight.’
    He opened the door and a tall, long-limbed man pushed his way into the kitchen, removing his hat to reveal wispy fair hair, high on his forehead. He stopped abruptly when he saw Jimmy seated at the table, and curved his lips in a cold smile.
    â€˜Evening, Jean, Clarry. Didn’t realise you already had company.’
    â€˜You’re welcome to join us,’ said Dad. ‘Jeannie’s just brewed up, there’s plenty left in the pot.’
    â€˜Wouldn’t want to impose.’ The man’s mouth twisted, just short of a sneer, and Sadie knew who it was now, of course; it was Mr Mortlock, Gerald Mortlock, the boss of Invergarry. The boss of Boort, some said. Jimmy Raven’s boss.
    Jimmy rose to his feet, knocking aside the chair that seemed so spindly beneath his powerful body. He jammed on his hat and stepped to the door.
    Clarry put out his hand. ‘Don’t go, Jimmy.’
    And Jean said, ‘Jimmy, there’s no need to go. Stay and finish your tea.’
    But Jimmy, head down, mumbled something about it being late, and an early start tomorrow, and before anyone could stop him, he’d slipped out into the night. The room seemed much emptier without him.
    Dad was still standing, holding onto the back of his chair. But Mr Mortlock dragged a chair toward himself and swung it around one-handed. He sat down with his boots stretched out in front of him and began to roll a cigarette.
    â€˜Hope Jimmy’s not making a nuisance of himself,’ he said.
    Dad said, ‘Jimmy’s always welcome here.’
    Mum said softly, ‘We don’t smoke in this house, Gerald. Clarry’s lungs, you know.’
    â€˜Oh! Pardon me, I was forgetting.’ Mr Mortlock made a great show of tucking away his silk tobacco pouch inside his jacket. ‘What was he doing here, anyway?’
    â€˜Jimmy sometimes drops in for a yarn,’ said Dad.
    â€˜Jolly good, jolly good.’ Mr Mortlock smoothed the back of his head. ‘But