The Breakdown

By L E Luttrell

How desperate would you be if you lost your only daughter?

Annie Huxley, brought up by her grandparents on a remote cattle station, always believed her parents were dead. While on holiday with her family she decides to visit her parent's graves in the NSW country town where she was born. There she discovers the first lie. As she begins to

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wolloomooloo
• Release date: May 14, 2020
• ISBN: 9781999933425

L E Luttrell

About the Author L.E. Luttrell was born in Sydney, Australia and spent the first 21 years of her life there before moving to the UK. After working in publishing (in the UK) for a few years she went on to study and trained as a teacher. From the 90s she spent many years working in secondary education, although she's also had numerous other part time jobs. A frustrated architect/builder, L.E. Luttrell has spent much of her adult life moving house and wielding various tools while renovating properties. Although she has written many 'books' now, The Breakdown is only the second book she has published. More will follow. L.E. Luttrell lives in Liverpool, Merseyside.

Book preview

1

Near Tarago, New South Wales, Australia

June 1969

The man appeared out of nowhere. A grotesque ghost-like figure with his arms flailing and mouth open in a cry. They heard a loud thud. One moment he was there and the next he disappeared into the eerie, swirling, dark mist. The passenger let out a howl as though he was in pain. The driver screamed and slammed her foot on the brake pedal. The car skidded, screeched to a halt, and the engine cut out.

They sat in stunned silence, the rapid beating of their hearts causing a breathlessness that prevented them from speaking.

‘What the ...,’ the driver attempted to say after what seemed like several minutes. ‘What the bloody hell was that? Was it real?’

Unable to speak the man shook his head.

‘Speak to me for Christ’s sake! Did I just hit someone?’

‘I ... I think so love. Sorry, I ... ‘

‘What should I do?’

The desperate plea for help in her voice pulled him out of his shock. He needed to take control of the situation.

‘I’ll get the torch and check the roo bar, but you’d better pull over to the side first. You’re at an angle on the road, blocking the oncoming traffic. If another car comes along they’ll hit us in this mist.’

He waited until his wife completed the manoeuvre, bringing the car to a safer stop on the gravel at the side of the road.

Switching the interior light on, he stepped out of the car, opened the rear door and felt around on the floor for his torch. His hand was shaking, and he almost dropped it as he lifted the weighty metal tool, grabbing it just in time with his other hand as he felt it slip from his grasp.

Now with a firm grip on the torch, he turned on its powerful beam and made his way to the front of the vehicle. He swept the light across the metal ‘roo’ bar they’d had fitted. The bar avoided any serious damage to their Land Rover if they hit a kangaroo or wallaby on night drives when the animals, without any consideration, hopped right out in front of them.

The tell-tale sign of fresh blood was evident on the metal bar. He stood up and nodded at his wife, confirming their worst fears.

∞ ∞ ∞

Her husband’s eyes were like large saucers in the glare of the headlights and the driver had an impulse to laugh in nervous fear. She didn’t want to think about what they were going to find. With some reluctance, she climbed out of the car and joined him.

‘He was real all right and it doesn’t look good. We’d better go and find him.’

‘Shall I back up so we have the headlights to see better?’ she asked without thinking.

‘Hell no. He might be right behind us. You could run over him again.’

They walked along the road while he swung the beam of the torch from side to side. There was no sign of their mystery man.

‘He can’t be this far back,’ she said looking towards their vehicle which had vanished from sight in the mist. ‘Are you sure he was real? It couldn’t have been a roo who hopped away?’

‘Wishful thinking my love. It wasn’t a kangaroo. He might have rolled into a ditch. We need to check again.’

They retraced their steps and this time the beam picked up a huddled shape lying off the edge of the road.

She rushed over and bent down to the man. ‘I’m so sorry, we didn’t she started to say when she became startled by the sight and smell of the man before her as her husband swung the torchlight onto them.

‘I ... was ... trying ...,’ the man attempted to say in halting breaths.

‘I didn’t catch that,’ she said bending closer to him.

He mumbled into her ear as she concentrated hard to catch what he was saying.

Suddenly the man grabbed the fabric of her blouse and lifted his head.

‘Promise me!’ he shouted.

‘I ... I promise,’ she stuttered, frightened by the fierceness of his tone.

Seemingly satisfied with her answer, the anguished appearance on the man’s face relaxed; he closed his eyes, slumped back to the road and lapsed into unconsciousness. She felt his neck for a pulse. There was none.

‘He’s dead! I’ve killed him!’ she cried.

‘Are you sure?’ her husband said still shining the torch over them. ‘Let me see.’

‘He’s dead, I’m telling you, there’s no pulse. What on earth did he think he was doing?’ she asked as she stood.

‘What was that you promised him?’

‘We have to get going now,’ she said ignoring his question and pointing in the direction they’d been heading. She grabbed her husband’s coat and started pulling him back to their vehicle.

‘Why that way? Shouldn’t we be heading back to that village we passed through and phone for an ambulance and the police?’

‘No way. After everything that’s happened today the police will think I did this in a fit of rage or something. And an ambulance won’t help him now. We need to keep heading for Goulburn. We can sort everything out there.’

‘No one could blame you; it was an accident. I’m so sorry love, it should have been me driving.’

‘You’d had one too many beers - like him. He reeked of alcohol. Besides I could see you were still in pain from your swollen face and it wouldn’t have changed anything anyway - not with the way he stepped out in front of us.’

‘What did he say to you?’

‘He asked me for help.’

2

Brisbane

May 2001

‘That was Len. My grandmother’s dead,’ Annie told her husband Dave after hanging up the phone. She stood, arms by her side, unable to move, silent tears falling down her face.

‘I’m sorry love,’ he said, walking over to her and putting his arms around her.

She leaned into his shoulder and let her tears flow. He held her until her tears subsided.

‘I know it’s no consolation,’ Dave said, releasing her and stepping back to look at her, ‘but she did have a fairly good innings. What was she, eighty?’

‘No seventy-nine,’ she said sniffing. ‘It’s a shame I wasn’t a match for her.’

‘At least you offered. To be honest, I’m glad you weren’t a match. I wasn’t too keen on you donating one of your kidneys to her.’

‘I know you weren’t, but I had to do something, she was the only family member I had left - apart from Tommy.’

‘You’ve got me, Len, Rhea and her family.’

‘Yeah - I know you’re family, but not blood relatives. That’s what I meant.’

‘Don’t you have a great uncle down in Walgett? Your grandmother’s brother? And hasn’t he got children and grandchildren? They’re blood relatives as well.’

‘I’ve only met my great uncle a few times in my life. I met one of his sons once - he was an adult who nodded hello to me, but otherwise didn’t speak. I was only a little kid. I’ve never met James’ other children and I’ve never met any of his grandchildren, so I don’t really count them. I meant blood family that I’m close to.’

Dave nodded and sighed. ‘Did Elaine ever ask her brother whether he might be willing to do tests to see if he was a match for her?’

‘I don’t know, and I doubt it very much. They didn’t have a close relationship. She didn’t ask me either; I volunteered. I told you she was furious with me when she found out and said she wouldn’t have allowed me to go ahead with it anyway - even if I was a match.’

‘And quite right too. She was nearing the end of her life. You’ve not even lived half of yours.’

‘Nan claimed she was too old to consider transplant surgery, but you know, I found it all very strange how the doctor never spoke to me about the results. He kept deferring to Elaine. I wouldn’t be surprised if he never ran the tests at all, once she found out from one of the nurses that I’d had them. Elaine might have told him to forget it and then lied about me not being a match.’

‘Maybe. Whatever happened, I’m glad your body’s still intact. Changing the subject, do you think Len will keep the station going?’

‘No. He’s just told me. Elaine left provision in her will that on her death the station was to be sold and largely split between Len and me, with a few other smaller bequests. It’s already on the market. Apparently, she instructed a lawyer and an agent a few weeks back when she knew she was nearing the end.’

‘Did you know about this?’

‘No - she didn’t mention a word of it when I went to see her recently. Nor did she say a word any of the times I spoke to her on the phone.’

‘At least one good thing might come out of it all.’

‘What’s that?’ she asked incredulous. How could anything good come out of her grandmother’s death?

‘Once the estate is settled, we could look at buying a Queenslander in one of your dream locations and live mortgage free.’

She shook her head. She knew Dave was making an effort to draw her away from her feelings of grief, but it wasn’t working.

‘I can’t think about things like that now Dave.’

‘Sorry love, I was only ... does Len have a date for the funeral yet?’

‘No. He said he’d phone me again when he’s arranged it all, but I think I ought to head up there and help him.’

‘I’d offer to come with you but as you know I’m really busy at the moment with loads of work booked in, and then there’s always the emergency work. I can’t afford to turn any of it away - you know how it can be sometimes. I don’t think you should take Tommy either. He’s missed enough school with your trips up there. At least then there was a purpose - he was able to see his great-grandmother.’

‘Yeah,’ she said nodding. ‘I agree. Do you think Rhea would help out if I were to leave you two alone?’

‘Of course she would. Tommy can catch a bus back to her place of an afternoon and I’ll collect him when I finish work.’

‘Okay, look I’m going to go and pack if you don’t mind. I’ll head off in the morning.’

‘What about your work with the agency?’

‘I’ll phone them in a minute and leave a message. They knew this was on the cards.’

She had left her permanent job last year after her grandmother confided that treatment she’d been having was failing and her health was deteriorating. She then registered with an agency and picked up casual work each time she returned home because they needed the extra income she could bring into the household. As a self-employed plumber, Dave wasn’t guaranteed work every day. When he’d broken his hand and a leg in an accident a few years back and had not been able to work for months, money was tight, and they’d eaten into their savings. Without Dave’s sister Rhea, they would have been in trouble, both financially and practically as she sometimes worked long shifts and Dave’s injuries meant he was unable to collect Tommy from school. They’d made arrangements with school staff for Tommy to be held back for fifteen minutes until Rhea could drive to Tommy’s school after collecting her own children.

With all the children now in their teens, collecting Tommy was no longer an issue, but they had relied on Rhea many times over the past year, as she had travelled back and forwards to the remote cattle station her grandmother owned in Northern New South Wales.

The cattle station, Tregaron, was named after an area in Wales where its founder had been born - the great grandfather of Maurice, Elaine’s first husband. Three weeks ago, her grandmother had been re-admitted to hospital in Moree where she had now passed away.

∞ ∞ ∞

On the drive to Tregaron, Annie reflected on how she’d feel about the cattle station no longer being part of her life. Although she loved it, she’d never had any interest in running a cattle station, like her grandparents had. At the age of seventeen she’d left to prepare for training as a nurse, boarding with one of her grandmother’s cousins, now long dead, in Brisbane. First, she’d had to complete her Higher School Certificate which she’d started with the school which provided her education over the airwaves. The cattle station was too remote for her to travel to school daily and she’d been educated at home alongside children of station hands.

Although Tregaron was in New South Wales, she’d chosen to head north to Brisbane rather than take the longer journey south to Sydney. The Queensland border was only sixty kilometres from their home; less as the crows fly, and Brisbane was the closest state capital city. The family had no relatives in Sydney anyway, so Brisbane seemed the better option.

She had wanted to experience life in a city. She’d only been to the sea-side a handful of times growing up; only experienced visiting her local village once a month, and Moree, their closest large town, a few times a year. She’d been to Walgett a couple of times, Stanthorpe twice and Narrabri once - other towns in her region. Her world had been very confined. She recalled living in a more built-up area when she was little, but her grandmother told her that was also a country town many hundreds of miles south. She had memories of travelling on trains, something she didn’t experience again until she moved to Brisbane.

Three months into her professional life as a nurse, she had met Dave Huxley, Rhea’s brother, at a housewarming party in Rhea and Han’s new home. Rhea and Hans were colleagues from work. Rhea was a nurse like her, Hans a doctor. After a whirlwind romance, she and Dave were married seven months later. Eleven months into the marriage Tommy had been born. Sadly there’d been no more pregnancies.

Would this be the last trip she made to Tregaron? The station was productive, had a reasonable supply of water and made a good profit so she didn’t see why it wouldn’t sell.

She didn’t like to think of benefiting financially from her grandmother’s death, but it was a fact of life. As Dave had said, they could consider re-locating. The area where they lived was situated on high ground close to lush green bushland. In a street not far from them, houses were mostly old Queenslanders sitting on generous plots, which had the most spectacular views across to Brisbane City, the coast and the wider Brisbane area. The dream location Dave had referred to. In time, perhaps they could look at buying one of those houses with a view, and modifying it to suit their needs.

3

Tregaron Cattle Station, Northern NSW

May 2001

‘Some years ago, Nan told me she wanted her ashes scattered amongst her favourite outcrop of rocks out on the land. Is that what she still wanted Len?’ she asked him, as they settled in the lounge with an after dinner cup of tea.

It felt quite surreal to her, to be discussing what was going to happen to her grandmother’s ashes but she knew Nan’s final resting place had been important to her.

‘Yes, she doesn’t want any memorials set up anywhere, just that, so she’ll always be part of the land. I’ve arranged for Elaine to be cremated. The service is next week at the Moree crematorium. I’ve booked refreshments at the Bowl’s club afterwards.’

‘Do you think many people will be coming?’

‘I don’t know. She was fairly well known, so I guess there’ll be a few. I’ve put the word out. As you know, she grew up in the region, married when she was quite young, and her first husband, Maurice, inherited this station from his parents, so she’s been around here her whole life. Elaine’s brother James and his family will probably come over from Walgett. They wanted me to hold the service there, claiming Elaine should be buried in the family plot on Houghton land, but I’d already made arrangements at Moree and told James Elaine didn’t want a burial. I didn’t add that Elaine had not considered herself a Houghton since she’d left home.’

‘He just wanted it there for his convenience. I know he must be getting on a bit but they never came to see her here while she was alive. The least they can do is turn up for her funeral.’

‘I agree. Elaine didn’t get on too well with Margery, James’s wife.’

‘I know. We only visited them a few times when I was young, and there was always tension. From what Nan told me Margery was resentful that Tregaron was a bigger spread and more successful. I hope you don’t mind Len, but Dave and Tommy will be coming up for the funeral service itself and then heading straight back to Brisbane, not staying for the gathering. We can’t afford for Dave to lose more than a day’s work. Money is tight in our household with me having so much time off.’

‘Do you need some money? If you do, I can always arrange some for you.’

‘No, we’re fine thanks Len.’

She and Dave had always been fiercely independent, refusing financial offers of help from her grandmother over the years. The sum of money Nan had given her and Dave as a wedding present had left Dave feeling highly embarrassed, but added to their savings, it had enabled them to put a down payment on their house. Dave had sworn it was the last time he’d accept any money from her.

‘Talking of money, any interest in the station?’

‘Yes, there’s been a few lookers. One seemed quite keen. I haven’t heard back from the agent since their visit the other day, so nothing definite yet. You know she left the bulk of her estate to you - rightly so of course. There are other payments to be made to station hands and long-serving staff as well.’

‘I know, you told me. As her husband, I would have thought you were entitled to at least fifty percent of it.’

‘In theory. But Elaine and I made an agreement about it years ago. I didn’t want it. I’m happy with a small settlement.’

‘Do you have a copy of Nan’s will here out of interest?’

‘No, it’s with Elaine’s lawyer in Moree. He and I are the executors of the estate.’

Len looked uncomfortable and embarrassed with this statement. She thought it quite logical that he would be handling everything as she lived so far away, so didn’t understand why he would feel awkward. Len had been behaving strangely and a bit distant since she arrived. She knew from her nursing career that death affected family members in different ways.

‘What are your plans after the station’s sold? I assume Nan’s left you enough to buy yourself a house somewhere? Where will you go? Your friend no longer lives around here does he?’

Her grandmother, Elaine, had met Len at a party on a nearby sheep station, a few years after her husband Maurice had died in a tragic accident. Len had been staying with the station owner, Larry, an old childhood friend of his who’d moved there some fifteen years before. Len and Elaine had fallen madly in love and Len had only returned home to the UK briefly to sort matters out and apply for his Australian citizenship after they’d married more than twenty years ago.

‘No, Larry sold up and went back to the UK with his children after his wife died. That was about ten years ago now. We’re still in touch and so I hope to see him soon. You needn’t worry about me pet, I’m fine. I still have my house back in Newcastle-upon-Tyne anyway, and I plan to return there, once the tenants have been given notice. I have grandchildren I’ve only seen a few times. They were very young then and are all grown up now. I even have one great-grandchild I’ve never seen.’

‘It sounds like you are planning to return there permanently. I can’t believe you kept your house in the UK all these years.’

‘I bought it after my divorce and hung on to it after Elaine and I married, as an investment. Apart from a percentage of the family business I own, it was all I had really. Elaine owned this place. I dare say the house could do with a make-over after all these years - a large portion of the money I receive from Elaine will go towards that.’

‘So apart from your house project, what will you do there? You’re always busy here on the station with so much to do - will you completely retire?’

‘Probably not. I think I might have told you my family own a hardware store in one of the suburbs not far outside Newcastle, a city up in the North East of England. My father opened the business when I was very young. Despite all these big DIY stores springing up everywhere, we’ve managed to survive. My younger brother still manages it along with my nephew. I might work there a couple of days a week, then spend the rest of the time catching up with family. I’m only sixty-seven this year, so there’s still plenty of life in me yet. I haven’t applied for my British pension yet.’

Len was twelve years younger than her grandmother, but with Elaine’s youthful looks, the age gap had not been obvious. She thought his plans to return to England might account for his distant behaviour. Len, who had been like a grandfather to her for years, was normally quite relaxed and chatty. So far he’d seemed quite formal and almost stand-offish. Perhaps he felt guilty about abandoning her. At least he was still calling her ‘pet’, if that had been missing, she would know something was really amiss.

‘Changing the subject, what do you plan to start on tomorrow?’ Len asked her.

‘If you don’t mind, I’d like to go through all Nan’s photograph albums and private papers in the morning - ones that aren’t station documents. I’m sure there’ll be photographs or documents I’d like to keep. I don’t have any photographs of me as a child at home, only some of Nan and me taken in more recent years.’

Len’s face took on a grimace. He looked like he was in pain as he stood.

‘Are you alright Len?’

‘I’m fine,’ he snapped. ‘Right. Well, I’ll leave all that to you to deal with. Apart from the odd photograph sitting around in a frame, you’ll find everything else in her study. I’ll make sure all the station papers are in order. I’ve already made a start on them with income and expenditure all laid out for the past five years. I’ll also need to organise the papers showing income and expenditure going back several years before that for potential buyers.’

‘Okay. Thanks for dinner Len. After I’ve washed the dishes, I’m going to head off to bed.’

Len’s shoulders dropped several inches. She thought he must have been tensing them. Now he seemed more relaxed.

‘Right you are pet, I’ll see you in the morning. I’m going to do a bit of work in the office.’

‘Night Len,’ she said, standing and carrying their mugs into the kitchen. As she was washing up she thought Len had looked distinctly uncomfortable when she’d said she wanted to look at her grandmother’s personal papers. What was that about?

∞ ∞ ∞

She found a few black and white photographs of her mother holding her as a baby and as a young toddler, then nothing until she was about four or five, judging by the photos which were taken at Tregaron after she’d come to live with her grandparents. Her hair had darkened by then whereas it looked fairer in the older photos with her mother. When she came to live with her grandparents, her grandmother complained her thick hair was impossible to keep tangle free, so she’d chopped it all off and kept it short until she begged Nan to let her grow it when she was eleven. She’d promised to look after it herself and learned to plait it or draw it back in a ponytail. Nowadays she kept her hair shoulder length which was easy to tie back at work.

None of the older photographs included her father, although she could tell in one or two of them someone had been cut out of the photo of her and her mother. She had only hazy memories of her father. According to Nan, she’d either cut out or burnt all the pictures which included him because Nan had had a blazing row with her father after her mother had died. Her mother had wanted Annie to be taken back to the station to grow up in her