The Beloved by Annah Faulkner Page B

didn’t come, Mama drove us around in the jeep until dark, looking. Snifter didn’t come home that night and he wasn’t there the next morning.
    â€˜We’ll just have to hope he’s back by the time you get home from school this afternoon,’ said Mama. ‘He’s probably out having an adventure.’
    I wanted to believe her but Snifter had never gone off on his own before.
    â€˜What if he’s been hit by a car or bitten by a snake and he’s out in the scrub in terrible pain?’ said Tim, struggling not to cry.
    Snifter wasn’t home after school and for the next three days Tim and Mama searched, knocked on doors and left notes on telegraph poles. Mama even put an ad in the newspaper with Snifter’s photo. No-one had seen him.
    â€˜Gone pinis,’ said Dad sadly. ‘Forever, I’m afraid. Three days now and no sign. I reckon he’s been stolen. His pedigree makes him worth a lot of money.’
    Tim went so pale I thought he might be sick.
    â€˜So whoever took him,’ Dad said quickly, ‘will certainly look after him.’
    â€˜Yes,’ said Mama. ‘They’ll give him his favourite food and he won’t even want to come home.’
    Tim said nothing. He didn’t believe them. I didn’t either.
    One afternoon we came home to find Mama washing up a pile of dirty dishes. ‘That wretched Willie,’ she said. ‘He hasn’t put in an appearance all day.’
    When Dad came home, he dropped his bag on the table and took Mama in his arms.
    â€˜I’m glad you’re home, Eddie,’ she said.
    â€˜I’m glad you’re glad, Bean.’ He landed a smacking kiss on her mouth. ‘Did you miss me?’
    â€˜I don’t mean that. It’s Willie. I’ve been backwards and forwards to the boi-haus all day knocking and calling but there’s been no answer. Either he’s sick or he’s not there. Would you go and check?’
    Dad dropped his arms. ‘Okay.’
    A few minutes later he came back. ‘I can’t see much; the light bulbs are smashed. But he seems to have gone pinis. Left a bad smell. It’s too dark to see what it is. I’ll deal with it in the morning.’
    Mama stuck her hands on her hips. ‘Gone? How come . . . gone ?’
    Dad shrugged. ‘He wouldn’t be the first one to shoot through. We’ll have to find someone else, em tasol.’
    â€˜That’s all?’ said Mama. ‘Find another haus-boi just like that?’ She snapped her fingers.
    â€˜Someone’ll turn up. I’ll put the word out. Anyway, you weren’t happy with Willie.’
    â€˜He was better than nobody.’
    Mr and Mrs Davies arrived the next morning to take Mama skin-diving.
    â€˜I can’t go,’ she said. ‘Willie’s disappeared and I’m it for housework.’
    â€˜Our haus-boi’s sister’s looking for work,’ said Mrs Davies. ‘She arrived from Milne Bay last week and has been helping her brother. She’s very good; so is her English.’
    â€˜A woman would be nice,’ said Mama.
    â€˜I’ll send her over now,’ said Mrs Davies.
    Mama went down to clean out the boi-haus and Dad started on the breakfast dishes. ‘Grab a tea towel, CP, if you can remember what it looks like. Tim, have a go at the beds, will you? Let’s hope the meri gets here quick.’
    We’d nearly finished the dishes when a weird sound came from the backyard. Dad dropped the dishmop. ‘Is that your mother?’ He hurried down the stairs. From the verandah I saw Mama leaning on the side of the boi-haus throwing up into the dirt. Dad held her around her middle while she sicked up again. Tim ran down the stairs.
    Mama waved at him. ‘No, Tim. No. Stay away.’
    He stopped for a moment, then circled around her and went into the boi-haus.
    â€˜For God’s sake,’ Mama gasped. ‘Stop him, Ed.