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A shrill whistle in the distance demanded attention.
‘Sounds like we’re about to get going.’ He changed the subject. ‘Is this your first visit to Farina?
‘I’m afraid so. I have no idea what to expect.’
‘Well, those lovely polished brogues will have to be put away. You’ve chosen the right time of year to visit, because it’s not sweltering, but if it’s been dry, the dust will clog that lovely pinprick pattern on your shoes, and if it’s rained, then it’s going to be muddy.’
‘Oh,’ she said, looking crestfallen. She’d wanted to look perfect for Tom. ‘Lucky I have others, then.’
He nodded. ‘Save those for church.’
The whistle sounded again and doors banged down the train.
‘Here we go,’ he said, grinning again from his long, square jaw. His thick hair, which clearly wanted to be unruly, was cut short at the sides and neatly parted on the left.
The bull was finally allowed to charge and, in a bellowing rage of steam and smoke, hauled its carriages out of Adelaide central station and headed through the suburbs until they left the final one, Kilburn, behind and hit the small, open farmland of Salisbury.
‘We’re headed for Gawler,’ John helpfully offered, ‘and then we’ll start the small climb up the Roseworthy bank. You’ll know when we reach that because you’ll hear the train strain and complain.’ He won a grin from her. ‘And you’ll know we’ve reached Hamley Bridge, because we make quite a clatter going over it.’
‘What time is the next stop?’
‘Nothing precise about this train, Fleur, I must warn you. But it’s now, what . . .’ He glanced at his wristwatch. ‘Just reaching a quarter to nine, so we’ll be at Terowie for noon or thereabouts.’
‘What happens then?’
‘We change trains and on to Peterborough,’ he said, settling deeper into his chair. ‘Until then, forgive me if I catch forty winks, will you? I’ve been travelling for a couple of days.’
‘Please rest,’ she said, smiling. She was happy to let the scenery pass slowly by and give her a chance to let her racing pulse find a quieter rhythm.
Please be there, Tom, she cast out into the wilds beyond Gawler, the last glimpse of humanity before Mother Nature had them fully in her clutch.
They’d changed carriages at Terowie and continued their journey, Fleur’s companion still nearby and just dozing now. John stirred as the train slowed into Peterborough. Fleur was astonished that his body just seemed to know where they were.
He blinked and yawned as he stood. He had no need to stretch or worry about stiff limbs; his were too young and strong. He didn’t wait for her to ask but lifted down her small holdall and politely handed it to her.
‘Thank you. Er, John, do you mind if I stick with you?’ She hoped it didn’t sound too forward or like an invitation.
‘Not at all. I’m sure this all feels rather strange for you.’
As she stood on one of the two station platforms and regarded the sudden mass exodus, she frowned. ‘Does everyone alight here?’
He nodded. ‘Yes. It’s from here that people take their connections to the far west to Perth, or to the far north to Alice Springs—’
‘Or to Farina and beyond,’ she finished, sounding awed. ‘I love that. We’re all together for a while and then we bundle off and go to all corners.’
‘Train travel is brilliant, but wait until you fly, Fleur.’
She laughed. ‘I can’t imagine that will happen.’
‘Oh, it will. One day you’ll take a flight across our great nation and visit friends in Queensland or Darwin . . . or London,’ he said with wide eyes and an excited expression.
‘I’ll trust that if you’re the pilot, John.’
‘How about a pot of tea while we wait? I’m starving.’
‘Come on, the refreshments are on me. You’ve been most gallant.’
As they each drank a cup of tea, they shared some sandwiches and a wedge of cake. It was about half an hour while all the luggage was unloaded and then reloaded onto their train, which John pointed out.
