Little Girl Lost Read Free Page B

It seemed a brighter blue. Maybe that was because it rained so seldom. The few trees that survived this far west were more grey than green. In recent years, the Creek had acquired a better water supply and there were some patches of green lawn in places. But still red and brown remained the predominant colours.
    She kicked a rock with the toe of her brown leather boots and watched it bounce along the red dust at the side of the road. She had forgotten about the dust. It got everywhere! No matter how much a person cleaned or how often they washed their car, that red dust ruled supreme. She paused for a second to bend over and touch the dirt. When she looked at her hand, her fingertips were stained red.
    Sarah gazed with new eyes at her old school. She hadn’t spent a lot of time there. The mine had come to the town when she was fourteen years old. The school had followed not long after. Before the mine and the arrival of the internet, it was school-of-the-air for her, learning her lessons at home via shortwave radio, because a simple storekeeper couldn’t afford to send his daughter to boarding school. Not that she wanted to go. As a child she’d had an unshakeable belief that the Creek would always be her home.
    She walked past the row of dilapidated old wooden homes that used to be the aboriginal housing, before the mine bought the land and the people moved on to better homes or, in some cases, back to their traditional lands. The paint had faded away and the bare timber was bleached white by the sun. The corrugated iron roofs were red with rust, and the windows were either boarded up or open to the elements. They’d been deserted for years, but no one had seen fit to pull them down. Although, as she looked closely, she could see places where some of the timber had been removed. She wondered if that was entirely legal. And if it wasn’t, did anyone care? The houses were a lot shabbier than she remembered. In fact, the whole town seemed somehow smaller now.
    It was about two kilometres from the railway station to the intersection at the centre of town. Sarah wasn’t a tall girl and her short steps were not hurried. If anything she was dragging her steps because of what faced her. But at last she saw the landmark pub that sat on the northern side of the road she was following. The Coorah Creek Hotel was one of the town’s original buildings. It was surprisingly elegant for such a small town. Two storeys, with a wide veranda top and bottom. The wrought iron on the top storey was rare and beautiful and the whole building had an aura of being well cared for. It had been there when the mine came, and Sarah guessed it would be there long after the mine closed – as one day it surely must.
    As she drew closer to the corner, she could see past the pub to the town’s main street, and the few shops that serviced the town. Beyond the street, the land rose slightly to give a view of the newer houses that stretched to the north. The people who lived in those houses had been brought in by the mine. They worked there, or supported those who worked there. There were far more houses than she remembered. That part of the town, at least, had grown in her absence.
    Three years wasn’t really such a long time, and she had come home. Twice, although both visits had been short. She’d meant to come more often, but somehow she was always too busy. She did feel a little bit guilty that she hadn’t been back last Christmas. She’d had a chance to spend the holidays in Sydney with a friend and then to watch the New Year fireworks on the bridge. That was too good an opportunity to miss. It didn’t matter if she missed one holiday. Coorah Creek was always going to be here waiting for her. Exactly the same as it had always been.
    She stopped walking to look at the building on the other side of the road. Her parents’ store was the only general store in town. It had expanded with the town to provide essentials not just for the outlying