‘I don’t know how much credit I can claim,’ Carol said. ‘I was a bad mother. That’s why they both hate me now.’
‘Justin doesn’t hate you!’ The mere thought shocked Anna. ‘You’ve been distant for a long time, but he doesn’t hate you. I think he’d like to be on better terms with you now.’
‘I hope you’re right. But Ben is never going to forgive me, and Justin has always chosen his brother over me. Even when they were small, they pushed me away. It was hard being a single mother to two boys. I wanted to be with them more, but I worked two jobs to keep food on the table and a roof over our head.’
‘They might not have understood that when they were kids, but I’m sure they do now.’
Carol sniffed loudly and rubbed one hand over her eyes. ‘Enough of me and my self-pity. There’s a fire burning. We’ve all got jobs to do.’
CHAPTER
33
After dropping Anna off, Carol drove straight back to the hall. Most of the cars that had been parked outside were gone as people returned to their homes to prepare for the worst. The hall was still open, but there was no music. No laughter. She climbed the stairs into a room that was, at best, sombre.
Bree and her grandmother, Rose, approached. ‘Hi, Carol. We weren’t expecting you to come back.’
‘I wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help. My sons are out there fighting that fire. If there’s anything at all I can do for them, or anyone else, I want to be here.’
Rose put a comforting hand on her arm. ‘Of course.’
Bree nodded. ‘We need to get some of these tables and chairs set up so we can feed them when they have time for a break. Deb has gone back to the pub to see about water bottles. Kelly is bringing some things from the store as well. I don’t imagine we’ll see anyone before dawn, but we should be ready, just in case.’
‘Shall I fill the urns and get the coffee cups and so forth ready?’
‘Good idea. It’s going to be a long night. We’ll all be needing coffee soon.’
They were hard at work when a young woman walked in, her arms full of electronic equipment. Bree greeted her and then introduced her to Carol.
‘This is Maggie. She works on the farm with me. I don’t think you’ve met her before. She’s also something of a whizz with all things computer related.’
‘It occurred to me,’ Maggie said, ‘that we’d all want to keep track of what’s happening. And charge our phones too. So I thought I’d create a mobile hotspot here. I’ve brought my tablet for people to watch if they can’t use their phones. And I’ve brought some power boards and extension cords and some of my ridiculous collection of charging cables. Hopefully that will be enough to keep us all in touch. Where shall I set them all up?’
They agreed on a place and Maggie dragged a table against the wall, where the existing power points would get her started.
A few more people arrived, mostly women. Some were carrying blankets. Others had water kegs or Tupperware containers of food. Some came empty-handed, simply wanting to help. And for company. When there was nothing to do, they stood about in small groups, talking quietly. Most of the kids had been settled in for sleepovers with friends, under the watchful gaze of one or two people, but just a phone call away if the fire got too close.
As soon as Maggie’s tablet was connected and showing the news, people clustered around it, their eyes glued to the screen. Despite the late hour—or was it already an early hour?—the news channel was filled with updates about the fire. And not only one fire. Several large fires were burning all over the state, and all were being driven to new fury by the hot, dry winds. Firefighting resources were stretched thin. Interviews with RFS officers were filled with warnings and requests for people to make sure their homes were fire safe.
‘Thank goodness those two RFS officers came here when they did,’ a woman remarked. ‘We’ve cleaned up around our house. I hope it’s safer now.’
There was a murmur of agreement and Carol closed her eyes, in case the tears welling up gave away how proud she was of her sons. How much she loved them. And how frightened she was for them. She would give anything to have them back safely.
During the next couple of hours, some of the people who lived nearby drifted out of the hall, going home to try to sleep. Carol stayed. Bree did, too. Her husband, Matt, was out with the volunteers. Their daughter, Vicki, was with some of the other kids, enjoying a distracting sleepover with her friends. Bree rarely took her eyes off the news, except to check her phone for messages. The alpaca stud was on the other side of town from the fire and in no danger. At least for now. With the technology all in place, she sent Maggie back to the stud to keep an eye on things there. ‘I want to be here when they come back,’ Bree told Carol.
Other wives and mothers and sisters stayed for the same reason. They all clustered around the screen, far from sleep, waiting and hoping. The fire was not yet threatening Wagtail Ridge, but they were all ready in case it did.
Just after midnight, those waiting heard engine noises approaching. Carol raced to the door. Three fire trucks were pulling up on the road outside, but it was only a moment before she realised the exhausted men and women climbing down from the cabs were not from Wagtail Ridge.
‘We were told to come here for some food and a rest,’ the first man approaching the hall said.
‘We’ve been expecting you. Come on in.’
They trooped through the door.
The battle had been hard. That much was evident in the droop of their shoulders and the dragging of their feet. Most barely managed to say thank you as they took the offered food and drinks, then collapsed onto the folding chairs around the trestle tables. Some didn’t bother with food. They took the water bottles or cups of tea and coffee and slumped down against the wall. Their uniforms were soot stained and their faces were dirty, except where rivers of sweat had washed them clean.
More noise from outside heralded the arrival of an ambulance. The two ambos looked fresh and rested. They moved among the firefighters, offering assistance for small wounds and the occasional burn. Carol was shocked to see one woman’s hands red raw where they had blistered and bled from swinging an axe or a shovel.
