The Valley of Lost Stories Read online

  ‘Oh good, I’ve been dying to see them up close. He seems to know what he’s talking about. And he seems quite taken with you.’ She nudged Nathalie.

  Nathalie shook her head, embarrassed. ‘Oh, God, no. He’s half my age.’

  ‘When did that ever stop anyone from crushing?’

  ‘I think you’re the only one who’s keen on seeing these old mines. Pen is probably dreading it in case Will starts drawing another ghost.’

  ‘She’s coming over,’ said Emmie, spotting Pen walking up the unsealed road towards them. ‘She was so apologetic last night for Will spooking everyone. And then with Sim freaking out this morning.’

  ‘It’s not Will’s fault. He’s just drawing what all of us are feeling.’

  ‘To be honest, I was a little rattled when he first said he saw the lady on the back steps. I definitely got tingles down my spine,’ Emmie said.

  ‘Gosh, isn’t it pretty here? What an idyllic little stream,’ Pen said. ‘Should have brought my camera from the room.’

  ‘I know, it’s paradise for the kids. Just give them some sticks and stones and a bit of water and that’s them sorted for a few hours,’ said Nathalie. ‘Unless someone steals the stones.’ She exchanged a sarcastic smile and Emmie couldn’t help but feel warmed by their shared understanding.

  One of the girls squealed below them. ‘He’s splashing me. Stop it.’

  ‘Okay, no splashing each other,’ called Emmie.

  ‘It’s Jasper. He keeps doing it,’ said Findlay.

  ‘See, the dobbing again. Come on, you can deal with some water,’ said Nathalie. ‘Splash him back.’

  ‘Here we go,’ said Emmie, and they all laughed.

  ‘Look, I just wanted to apologise again for Will scaring Sim so much. I had no idea she understood what was going on last night with the drawing of the woman,’ said Pen.

  Nathalie waved a hand. ‘It’s fine. It’s not Will’s fault. This is a really old place in the middle of the bush. The doors to our rooms don’t lock, which is apparently an issue with my girls. Findlay spent half the night telling me that anyone could come into our room. The kids aren’t the only ones who think it’s a bit . . . atmospheric. Sim just misses home, but look at her now.’

  The little girl was giggling at something her sister was whispering in her ear.

  ‘Are you sure?’ asked Pen.

  Emmie put her arm on Pen’s shoulder. ‘Of course. Try to relax and don’t worry about Will. He’s a sweetheart. And we’re all here to keep an eye on all of them. Four mums. What could go wrong?’

  They all laughed.

  ‘So, apparently we’re off to see the ruins of the mines shortly, which attract ghost hunters from all over the country,’ said Pen a tad too brightly.

  ‘Oh, come on, it’s an adventure. The kids will love it,’ said Emmie. ‘And it’s daytime. I’m pretty sure ghosts only come out at night.’

  CHAPTER 22

  Pen

  The ruins were like uneven teeth, jutting sharply from the lush mouth of the valley. Pen couldn’t deny there was a stark beauty to their decay. Pillars of brick and steel, long-forgotten markers of a dead industry were dissolving slowly back into the landscape. Long grass crept between cracks, and tree roots choked the concrete, like wilful serpents. A flock of cockatoos took off from a gum tree, their screeches echoing through the hot blue sky. As their cries died, Pen felt the silence of the past settle around her like fine dust. There was a feeling here, like walking into an old, empty church. A reverence for something unseen.

  The walk wasn’t as far as Pen had expected. The mines had looked distant, shrouded in morning mist out her window, but it was only a short stroll up a dusty road from the hotel. The air was dry now, as though the wisps of mist had been a dream. It was getting hotter as the sun moved towards its zenith in the sky.

  She held her camera steady and snapped the graceful arch of a long abandoned building. A tin drum overrun with wildflowers. An army of beetles, their shiny backs catching the light like glints of metal. The contrast between the man-made structures and nature was something special. Nature was winning.

  She urged the stuff with Will to the back of her mind. She’d had a talk with him last night and he’d been adamant that he was just drawing what he saw. He said it didn’t look like a ghost – it wasn’t see-through – it looked like an actual lady. And then when he must have seen Pen’s look of horror, he revised and said he didn’t know, and it was just from his imagination. He shut down then and wouldn’t talk about it further, and she felt like the worst mother for not believing him.

  She thought back to all those imaginary friends Will had had over the years. She’d just put them down to the loneliness of being essentially an only child, with his sister so much older than him. Now she wondered if he’d been seeing things for years and she hadn’t even noticed. Guilt lanced through her, hot and fresh, as though it was a new emotion, not one as familiar as her own face.

  Caleb unlocked a rusted barbed wire gate and told the kids to keep away from the long grass because there could be snakes. That was like asking tiger cubs to keep out of the jungle.

  ‘Did you hear that, kids?’ asked Emmie, her voice clear and authoritative. ‘And keep your hats on or you’ll get sunburnt. Quick, let me get a photo.’ She somehow managed to assemble them into a line and take a photo on her phone.

  Thank God for Emmie. She must have been a schoolteacher or a saint in a former life. She had so much patience.

  ‘So, it’s hard to imagine now but this used to be a thriving shale oil works,’ said Caleb standing at the entrance with them all gathered around. He was wearing a battered straw hat, and what appeared to be his uniform of jeans, a white shirt and leather boots. ‘The shale oil was turned into petrol and gasoline for use during World War II. It provided roughly 2.5 million gallons of oil at its height. And the mine’s workers and their families lived here between 1938 and 1952. There was lots of poverty and it was known as Bag Town early on, because the miners had to build their accommodation out of hessian sacks. Later a township was established. It included a post office, butcher, baker, bank, school, a Catholic church, and even at its height, a picture theatre and greyhound racing track. There were suburbs called things like Happy Valley, River Bends, Frog Hollow and Tweedies.

  ‘You would have seen some of the remains of the shops after you crossed the bridge, just before the hotel gates. Some of the shopfronts are frozen in time. The government pulled oil production in 1952 but it wasn’t until 1954 that the township was finally abandoned, many families losing everything they owned. There were roughly 2500 people living in the valley at its height.’

  ‘Where are they all now?’ asked Seraphine.

  ‘Dead, dummy,’ said Thomas.

  ‘Except the lady that Will saw,’ said Findlay. ‘She’s still here.’

  ‘Hey, what did we talk about, no more about that stuff,’ said Nathalie.

  Pen cringed, feeling the sun bore into her bare shoulders, the glare sting her eyes.

  ‘Well, we are doing a ghost tour,’ said Will.

  ‘Touché,’ said Nathalie, nodding. ‘Yeah, true Will.’

  ‘Will,’ said Pen, with more warning in her voice than she’d intended. Everyone turned to her. God. ‘Quiet please, honey. Caleb is trying to talk.’

  Will shot her an angry look and stormed off the rough path that seemed to meander through the centre of the ruins. Ugh. It would serve him right if he got bitten by a snake, Pen thought, then hated herself. God, if people could hear the things she said in her mind about her kid. Was it just her? Did other parents have these thoughts?

  ‘Over there you’ll see some of the remainders of old kilns that made bricks for the valley. And these are old petrol pipelines running through the bush, and this here was a cooling tower,’ Caleb said. ‘Oh, yeah, maybe the boys shouldn’t go in there.’

  ‘Boys, out!’ shouted Alexandra, pulling Thomas and Jasper from a concrete tunnel wide enough to fit a small car. Wil
l was up ahead, walking beside Macie. He bent and picked up a piece of rubble and handed it to her. She tried and failed to fit it in her pocket and they laughed. Pen felt a sharp stab in her chest. Was she really feeling jealous of her son’s relationship with a stranger? When was the last time she and Will had shared a laugh about something? She lifted her camera and took a photo of them. She wasn’t sure why.

  ‘You should get some nice shots out here,’ said Alexandra. ‘Now keep out of trouble and don’t go in the long grass.’ Alexandra ruffled her boys’ hair and rolled her eyes at Pen.

  ‘Who knew all this was out here? And all that history. And just to think we could have been by the pool at the boring beach,’ Pen said.

  Alexandra rolled her eyes. ‘I heard that sarcasm. Oh, I know. I must admit, when Macie offered us to stay at her place, I didn’t expect it to be this.’ She made a sweeping gesture.

  The group had dispersed, and she looked back to find Caleb and Nathalie craning their necks to study some sandstone pillars that looked particularly Romanesque.

  ‘We’ve got to watch those two, I reckon,’ said Alexandra, following her line of sight. ‘What with the amount Nathalie drinks and the way I’ve seen him looking at her.’

  Pen scrunched up her face. ‘She could have anyone. You really think she’d cheat on her husband with some reclusive guy in his 20s? Who does tours of old mines?’

  Alexandra shrugged. ‘You’ve got to admit, he’s pretty sexy for a recluse. And don’t you feel it? There’s something about this place. This whole valley. After what Caleb described. I’m not spiritual, but I don’t know . . . I can’t really articulate it. I feel like anything could happen. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad, given I live such a boring life.’

  Macie and Will were beside them suddenly. ‘Mum, Macie’s going to show me how to make earth pigment out of some of the rocks we’ve collected. You crush it and mix it with . . .’

  ‘Egg white and water,’ Macie said. ‘Will’s very interested in the Aboriginal history, too. Caleb can show us some of the cave paintings in the valley. You’ve got a budding little historian and artist here, Pen.’

  Will’s face glowed as he pocketed the rocks and ran off to join Jasper and Thomas who were kicking a rusty can between them.

  The hairs on Pen’s arms rose despite the sun burning her skin. ‘Oh, I feel it all right,’ she whispered to Alexandra, as Will hesitated in front of the other boys, then ran back to Macie.

  CHAPTER 23

  Nathalie

  The gorge echoed with kookaburra song and the low croak of frogs. The afternoon air was cooler here, tempered by the cold water moving over smooth black rocks. The narrow green snake of the river sunned itself under a violent blue sky. Wildflowers bloomed unbidden among the river stones. Dragonflies hovered low, and rock pools gurgled with soft rapids. The banks were lined with spindly gums on one side and willows on the other, their leaves licking the water.

  The children played in the shallows, yelping with delight as they hopped from rock to rock. The mothers stood ankle-deep, watching. Macie had packed a picnic of cheeses, fruits and French champagne, and it was laid out on a white cloth in the shade of a willow tree. Nathalie had to admit, Macie had a charming flair for entertaining.

  She eased into the water, feeling the dusty heat of the day slough off her skin. She dipped her head under. The water was so cold it took her breath away and an exhilarating jolt shot through her. Her toes found the smooth pebbles on the river floor and she dived down and chose one to hold in her palm. From the lip of the water the afternoon looked hazy, the champagne in her body rendering it all the more like a dream. They had only been here one night, and it was like they were in a new land. One where the hum and sparkle of nature was impossible to ignore. City life seemed so distant, so dull and monochrome in comparison. She was trying not to think about Richie too much, though her body memory of him was as loud and sharp as the cicada drone in the trees above.

  Macie was knee-deep, heading towards her through the water. Nathalie felt shame shimmy along her shoulders. Fragments of their conversation last night returned, as though she was looking at her own reflection in a cracked mirror. The memory was as hazy as the heat hovering over the water, but she knew she’d told Macie about Mike’s affair, about the night at the hotel. Abandoning her children. Oh God. She must have been so drunk. Should she acknowledge it while they were alone, or keep silent, hoping Macie would, too?

  Macie was coming in deeper.

  ‘Every time I’m back here I wonder why I stay in Sydney.’ Macie sank to her neck and sighed wistfully.

  Nathalie forced a smile onto her face. Perhaps it was going to be okay. Perhaps they’d skim the surface of things, like the insects over the water. ‘You’re very lucky to have the best of both worlds.’

  ‘So, tell me, are you married Nathalie?’ Macie asked, her face trained towards the sky.

  Nathalie paused for a moment longer than what was natural. ‘I, ah, yes,’ she said, trying to make her face, her voice, impassive. Was Macie really going to play it like this? It was one thing to pretend last night had never happened, it was another to ask directly something she clearly knew. Part of her wanted to say, ‘Why are you acting like you didn’t put me to bed and listen to me spill the guts of my life?’ But a larger part of her wanted to forget she ever had. Maybe Macie was just giving her this out. Maybe it was graciousness.

  ‘Is your husband at home with your baby? Your little boy must be getting so big by now.’

  ‘Yes, he’s going to be one soon. I’m missing him a lot, actually.’

  ‘Oh, they’re beautiful at that age. It must have been hard to leave him. That’s nice your husband is looking after your son.’

  Nathalie scooped a tiny white butterfly from the surface of the water. Its limp, translucent wings made her feel unaccountably sad. She nodded, feeling her unease intensify. She wasn’t going to tell Macie that Mike’s mother, who was actually amazing and one of the good things about her marriage, had insisted on spending time with her grandson and giving Nathalie a break. She wanted out of this conversation. Her teeth chattered. ‘I’m getting cold. I might head over and warm up in the sun.’

  ‘I hope you’re wearing sunscreen. You have the most incredible complexion. We all wonder at people like you with your easy beauty.’

  Nathalie laughed awkwardly. ‘Oh, thanks. No, I put it on the girls. I always forget myself.’

  ‘There’s a bottle on my towel if you’d like to use it,’ Macie said, stretching languidly.

  Nathalie felt Macie’s eyes on her as she stood to move towards the sun and the other women.

  ‘I bet he’s super handsome.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Your husband.’

  Nathalie laughed to hide the unease chilling her skin like cold water droplets.

  ‘Sorry, it’s just you’re so gorgeous, I can only imagine you paired with another alpha human.’

  Nathalie shook her head, totally lost for words. Who talked like this?

  ‘You probably don’t see it but everywhere you go, you’re given respect and deference because of your beauty. You’re the top dog here in this group of women.’

  The hairs on Nathalie’s wet, bare arms rose. ‘I don’t really think it works like that.’

  ‘I’ve studied psychology. Sometimes we over-complicate what is really just biological fact. You’re a nice person, so you don’t take advantage of your power, but you could.’

  ‘I don’t think it works like that between female friends. Well, not at this age.’

  ‘What, power play? Of course it does. It underpins everything.’

  ‘I just think that’s a really cynical way of seeing things.’ Nathalie couldn’t help the hard edge that had crept into her voice.

  Macie shrugged her shoulders. ‘That just shows that you’ve never been at the bottom of the power struggle between women.’

  ‘What the hell would you know?’ The words snapped out of her before she could
stop them. Nathalie felt her face redden and her hands clenched into fists below the water.

  Their eyes met and Nathalie was sure she saw a dark amusement playing in Macie’s. Bloody hell, she was so sick of people making assumptions about her because of how she looked – like her life was somehow easy, or better. Surely Macie knew this more than anyone after she’d confided to her about Mike’s affair. She just wanted to get away and join the others.

  ‘I’m getting cold,’ she said, her tone flat. She swam around Macie, the stones slippery under her feet. She found her daughters and gave their sun-warmed little bodies a cuddle, pushed their wet hair behind their ears. They ignored her, engrossed in an elaborate game that involved sand and sticks.

  She looked back over her shoulder. Macie was floating on the surface of the water. She felt a surge of annoyance, as quick and strong as an underwater current. She shook the feeling from her body as she warmed herself with the towel. She sat with her back against a rock, feeling the heat absorb through her skin. She closed her eyes against the sun. She thought about the sunscreen Macie had mentioned. She didn’t put it on.

  She watched with half-closed eyes as Macie came out and squeezed the water from her hair. She picked her way across the rocks to the others. They all seemed to like her. They laughed at something she said. Maybe she was just overly sensitive, hormonal being away from Richie. She got up and poured herself another glass of champagne, then went back to the warmth of her rock.

  CHAPTER 24

  Alexandra

  Dark clouds loomed at the lip of the escarpment and thunder grumbled through the valley. It had felt like 40 degrees by the river. Now it smelled like rain and cooling soil. The birds in the garden had grown silent, as though already hiding from the scent of the coming storm. The air felt taut, as though it could coil and snap at any moment. From the hotel’s front porch Alexandra watched the children play on the trampoline, their swimmers dried and hair flat against their backs. Nostalgia washed over her, sweet and tinged slightly with sadness. The trampoline was one of those big old spring ones that every kid in the ’80s grew up with. The kids were all spellbound by the fact that there was no safety net.