Jack & Harry (51 page)

‘That's different,' he had said defensively but his wife just looked at him.

‘Yeah, well. I still think she's too young and we know nothin' about him,' he grunted.

‘Ron seems to think that Jack and his friend are really good young lads. Says they work hard and are honest and dependable. They were the two that helped get that trapped miner out, what was his name? … Bruno, wasn't it?'

‘Must say they're a cut above the other young blokes around here. Seem a lot maturer for their age. I suppose that's because of where they live. Got to be tough to last up in Coober,' he grudgingly admitted. ‘How long did they say they were staying in Perth?'

‘They didn't, but I suppose it's only for a holiday to see their parents, isn't it?'

‘Maybe. Well … I'll consider it. Perhaps we could go up in a month or so when it gets a bit cooler. Got some holidays due so I'll think about it.'

‘Good,' his wife said. ‘I'll call Ron tomorrow and let him know we'll take up his offer.'

Ned Wilson couldn't help but think how alike Naomi and her mother were.
Get any damn thing they want, those two,
he thought lovingly.

They left Kalgoorlie on the morning of Jack's birthday, heading home to Perth. Mrs Lacey had packed a picnic lunch of cold roast chicken and salad in a hamper with a thermos of tea. ‘See how you go then.' She farewelled them as they drove out of the yard, her plump arms folded over her matronly apron-clad bosom.

The car ran beautifully and Father O'Malley was in his element behind the wheel of his treasured old Chev, with some hundreds of miles ahead of the bonnet with its chrome emblem glinting in the sunshine. He had been overwhelmed at the generosity of Jack and Harry in repairing his car, knowing he could never have afforded to pay the bill himself, at least not in one lump. To feel the car beneath him, smooth as the day he'd bought her, was one of life's little pleasures he allowed himself. That and a small flutter on the horses now and then and, of course, a little drop of ‘the doins' with his friend Paddy, but he felt that could be a rare treat now.

They had stopped to eat lunch beside the road under a clump of tall trees and Jack couldn't help but stroke the trunk of a large tuart. ‘I just love big trees,' he said by way of explanation. ‘No big trees like this in Coober Pedy, Father.'

Harry was content to sit and devour chicken legs; trees didn't interest him all that much. He was waiting to get home and tuck into some fish and chips though, and head off to Cottesloe. He also wondered if he'd get a swim at the beach because the autumn weather was getting quite cool, unlike Coober where it was certainly cold at night but the sun still packed a punch during the day.

Excitement, mixed with trepidation, settled on the boys the closer they got to Perth and when they passed through Northam and headed down the range toward the city, the sun low in the sky before them, the reality of being back silenced them. Father O'Malley sensed their anxiety and understood, to a degree, what they must be feeling.

I hope this all goes well.
He thought. He was nervous himself about meeting the parents and concerned that the boys might find their reception not as easy as he knew they were expecting, or at least hoping, it would be.

Jean and Claude arrived at the Fergusons just as the sun was setting. It had taken Jean a while to convince her husband about having a get-together but he eventually concurred, agreeing that they had to get on with their lives and that there was no harm in celebrating the boys' birthdays in their absence.

The night was unusually warm for the time of year with a promise of rain in the air. Jack Ferguson had set wood in the barbecue and had run a power lead out to a tree where he had hung a light to shine on the area. He figured he would keep the fire stoked up as the night got cooler, to save them all having to go inside, and the kids could eat their tea on the newly enclosed verandah. Alice had a table set up especially for them with cordial, home-made sausage rolls and cheerios.

‘Want a beer, Claude?' Jack took a bottle from the ice and snapped the top off, pouring a tall glass for his friend. ‘What would you like, Jean?'

‘Tea's fine with me for now but I might have a brandy and ginger ale in a bit. I'll give Alice a hand first.' She went into the house, leaving the two men to discuss work, football and the Korean war situation that was headlining the newspapers, anything but their missing sons.

‘Been off buying cattle lately, Jack?'

‘No interstate trips for a while. Been up north a few times. The last big trip was over to Marree in South Australia. Big mob of cattle, that one.'

The two women joined them ‘What are you blokes telling lies about now?' Alice jibed. ‘They usually tell some tall stories when we're not here to water them down, Jean, eh?'

‘No lies, Alice, honest.' Claude held up two hands in mock surrender, then arranged two chairs for the women. ‘Jack was just mentioning his trip across to Marree buying cattle.'

‘That's somewhere near Coober Pedy isn't it?' Jean asked.

‘Yeah, not too far away.'

‘I'd like to see that country one of these days, dear.'

‘Not much to see, Alice. It's flat, dry, red sand, hot and as rough as guts. We got to Marree and pulled up in front of the pub to find the front windows boarded up. Seems there was brawl in the bar the night before we got there between the drovers and some ringers. Tom Cooper, the bloke who brought the mob down we inspected, was involved and there was a big hole in the ceiling where the publican had fired a shotgun to stop the fight.'

‘How do people live like that?' Jean said. ‘They sound like animals.' ‘No, not really,' Jack replied. ‘Just tough.'

‘Remember last time we were here for a barbecue we talked about opals and Coober Pedy and ….' Jean stopped in mid sentence. ‘Oh I am sorry,' she said softly.

‘Hey, that's all right, Jean,' Jack said, ‘There's no sense in beating around the bush, too frightened to talk about anything in case it upsets us. After all, we're here tonight to celebrate Jack and Harry's birthdays and by God we're gonna do it.' He stood up. ‘It's high time we put all the rot aside. I miss Jack like hell and worry about him but he made the choice and from the letters we get they both seem to be enjoying life and getting on with things. Not that I agree with it and I'd like to know exactly where they are right now but that's how it is.' He stopped to take a breath. It was a long speech for Jack and he noticed that the other three were staring at him in amazement. ‘Well.' he went on, ‘I mean it.' He topped up his beer glass and refilled Claude's. ‘Get a sherry or something for you and Jean, Alice, so we can all drink to Jack and Harry's health …wherever they may be.'

As Alice returned from the kitchen with a bottle of cream sherry and two crystal glasses, they all wondered who could be arriving when headlights flashed down the driveway onto the garage and they heard a car pull up in front of the wooden picket gates.

Joe rubbed his watery eyes and leafed through the newspaper, gasping when he saw the headline. ‘Opal sells for record sum.' He continued to read, envy boiling in him as the article went on to state that the large opal discovered by the rescued miner, Bruno Boccelli in Coober Pedy, had been sold for an undisclosed figure, said to be the highest ever paid for a single gemstone.

He walked to the lounge where Cyril was sleeping, empty beer bottles and an overflowing ashtray beside him on the floor. He poked him hard in the ribs. ‘Cyril … wake up ya lazy slob.'

‘What?' Cyril opened his eyes and coughed. ‘What's up?' He rolled over and reached for his tobacco.

‘That opal the wog found has been sold for a fortune,' Joe said bitterly, waving the newspaper in Cyril's face. ‘I think it's time we looked to heading back up to Coober Pedy and exacting a bit of revenge on that mongrel and those bloody smart-arse kids.'

‘Why don't you let it rest, Joe, I think it's a mistake to go back there.'

‘Mistake! What do ya mean, mistake?' He snarled. ‘I reckon I deserve some of that opal money after what that bloke did. If he hadn't of run us off we could have found some opal ourselves and made a quid, so it's his fault that we didn't.'

‘Suppose you're right.' Cyril yawned. ‘When do you want to go?'

‘We'll get Andy over and work out a plan. I reckon we'll leave it a week or two and let this Bruno bloke settle in, then we'll strike.'

‘What sorta plan, Joe?'

‘How the hell do I know? We haven't worked it out yet! You certainly are a dumb bugger aren't ya?'

‘We'll need another car, Joe. The old truck's had it and I don't think it'll make it up there; besides, people will recognise it.'

‘Perhaps yer not as dumb as ya make out. Shouldn't be a problem gettin' a car, Cyril, Andy's pretty good at that.' He laughed sarcastically.

‘Yeah.' Cyril's face lit up ‘Wonder if he could pinch one of those new Studebakers; they're pretty flash?'

‘No, we need something that doesn't stand out. Once we've got our hands on some of that lovely cash you can buy whatever you like, mate.'

‘Yeah,' Cyril said again.

‘Let's get Andy over then and we'll work it all out. We can take our time, as there's no need to rush because that wog'll never be able to spend all that cash in a hurry so there'll be plenty left for us. We need to get hold of a coupla guns too. I wanna have somethin' a bit more persuasive than a tyre lever this time.'

Bruno Boccelli arrived back in Coober Pedy richer than he had ever dreamed he would be, richer in fact than most people in the fields. When he was discharged from hospital he had organised for Ron Carter to have the gemstone escorted down to Adelaide and he sold it to the highest bidder. He was disappointed that it went to an overseas buyer, as he would have liked to see it remain in Australia, but nobody could match the price.

His purpose for going back to Coober was to tidy things up there and sell the mine. There had been a lot of interest shown now that there was a distinct possibility that there was more high quality opal still buried there. He knew he would never go underground again so selling was the sensible option. He had no memory of what had happened after he found the stone early that fateful morning before the drive collapsed. It seemed his mind had blanketed out a section of his life between finding the stone and a week or so before he was released from hospital. It was his intention to sell his claim, farewell the few friends he had, say hello to the boys and give them his Land Rover, as he heard they had been minding his claim while he was away. He then planned to leave the fields forever.