Rain Music (13 page)

Read Rain Music Online

Authors: Di Morrissey

‘Glad you're enjoying it. We have a lot to catch up on. Looking forward to seeing you.'

Ned drove around to the motel where he'd stayed previously and greeted the girl on the desk.

‘You're back! I thought you'd gone bush. No good?'

‘Very good. But I need a taste of civilisation.'

‘So where're you going?' she laughed. ‘If you want real civilisation, you'll need a plane, not a motel.'

‘Don't knock Cooktown. All I've been talking to lately are the birds, some chickens and a lot of trees.'

‘I've heard that before. Same room as last time okay?' As he registered, she pushed the room key over to him.

*

Ned folded up the small ironing board and contemplated his freshly ironed shirt. He grinned. He was looking forward to seeing Toni. On the spur of the moment he decided to buy a spray of Cooktown orchids which he had seen on sale earlier at the motel reception.

As Toni came to her door, lean and tanned in her pretty yellow dress, wearing colourful earrings and a huge smile, he felt a sudden rush of warmth. He thrust the spray of perfect orchids into her hands and hugged her tightly before kissing her cheek and then standing back to admire her.

‘You look gorgeous,' he said. ‘You certainly are a sight for sore eyes.'

Toni thanked him for the orchids and pinned some of the flowers in her hair. Then she took his hand and led him inside. ‘You've been out in the bush too long, mister. Dinner will be ready in about half an hour. Can I get you a beer, or would you rather have a glass of wine?'

‘A XXXX Gold would be perfect, thanks.'

They'd finished their entrée and were halfway through the main course before Ned leaned back in his seat and said, ‘Have I stopped talking? Sorry, I've been on my own too long. Tell me what you've been up to.'

‘Nothing half as interesting. I love hearing all about the place on the river, it sounds unreal. But then Carlo and Lena are somewhat unusual. I've only met them once or twice, but they're certainly different, even for a place like this, which has its share of eccentrics.' She took a sip of water. ‘Did Jack really fight in Vietnam, do you think? I've met a couple of vets up here. They come to me for physio but the wounds and pain are really in their heads.'

‘Oh, I would say that Jack's biggest problem is just frustration and disillusionment with his country. Just the same, the one time we sat and really talked he opened a few doors in my head. Gave me some ideas. We can talk about that later. But that was the greatest excitement I've had in the past weeks. Don't get me wrong, I really love the place, but at times I wish I had something to distract me from my work, something a bit more interesting than the TV.'

As he said this, his phone rang and, glancing at the screen, Ned excused himself. ‘I know this is rude, Toni, but it's my mother. I'll be as quick as I can.'

‘No worries. I'll start the dessert,' said Toni and went into the kitchen.

‘Mum, hi –'

‘It's good to hear from you, Ned,' replied Josie, obviously pleased to be able to talk to her son.

‘Sorry, Mum, but I'm with someone, can't talk right now.'

Josie paused. ‘I've caught you at a bad time.'

Ned felt a stab of guilt. ‘No, all's good. Mum, I'll call you back, promise . . . Talk soon.'

‘All right then, Ned,' replied Josie in a disappointed voice.

He hung up. Toni popped her head out of the kitchen and gave him a questioning look. Ned tried to explain. ‘My mother'll have me on the phone for ages. I can ring her later.'

‘You kinda cut her off at the pass,' called out Toni, returning to the kitchen. Ned stood up and slouched in the doorway. ‘I don't mind if you talk to your mother,' Toni continued. ‘How long since you've spoken to her? Bit difficult out there in the bush with no reception.'

Ned tried to shrug off her comment. ‘Oh, it's been a while, I guess. But she's okay about it.'

‘I'd be phoning home if I were you,' said Toni eyeing him.

Ned stared at her. ‘Not all families talk to each other all the time,' he said defensively. ‘You sound like my little sister. I think I'm attentive enough.'

Toni's mouth quirked. ‘I have a younger sister too. Drives us all batty the way she just takes off and goes AWOL. Calls only when it suits her. I don't begrudge her doing her own thing but it just wouldn't hurt her to think about the rest of the family once in a while.' Toni smiled and she rolled her eyes humorously to show Ned she wasn't trying to give him a hard time. ‘I love my sister, but she's very different from me.'

Ned was quiet a moment. ‘I couldn't be more different from my sister either,' he said with a smile. ‘Bella is organised, efficient, reliable, smart and very professional in her work, just like our father was. She lives near our mother and is very caring.'

‘So that lets you off the hook?' said Toni, raising an eyebrow.

Ned winced. ‘Yes, I guess I feel like it does. I don't do well in a locked-down routine. Predictability bothers me. But, yes, I take your point, I will phone home straight after dinner.'

‘Look, I've already started dessert and it will take a little time. Why don't you ring your mother while I put together my mouth-watering concoction?' suggested Toni, ushering him out of the kitchen.

Ned sat down at the dining table again and called his mother back. Josie was thrilled to hear from him. ‘Where are you, how're things with you?' she asked.

‘I'm great,' Ned said leaning back in his chair. ‘I'm staying in a jungle – well, the beautiful bush, but it's remote. I'm house-sitting but there's no phone reception. Right now I'm in town having dinner with a friend. Are you okay, Mum?'

‘I'm good, I'm good,' Josie said cheerfully. ‘Bella's on holidays! She took off with not much of an agenda or much booked – so unlike her – but she had a lot of leave stored up and they made her take it.'

‘Yes, she texted me and said she's in Queensland. Is Brendan with her?' Ned asked.

‘No, he's not. Apparently he couldn't take time off at such short notice. Bella's at some lovely place on the coast, somewhere in north Queensland. Hidden Cove, I think it's called. Is that near you? Maybe you two can meet up while she's there. Wouldn't that be lovely?'

Ned didn't respond, so Josie continued.

‘Or maybe you could travel back together. Have you thought any more about my email regarding the dedication of the lecture room in your father's name? I'm hoping you'll change your mind about coming.'

Ned paused and shifted in his seat. ‘Um, I really don't think I can make it, Mum. I have a responsibility to look after the place where I'm staying, the chooks and the garden and stuff . . .' Ned heard Josie take a breath. ‘And I'm
doing a lot of composing,' he rushed on. ‘I really feel I'm getting somewhere. No distractions, that sort of thing.'

Josie was silent for a moment. ‘Well, that's good, Ned. When can we hear something?'

‘Whoa, too early for that, Mum!'

‘I am so pleased you're being creative, putting pen to paper . . . or rather, music sheet.'

Toni came back into the room and placed a plate in front of Ned.

‘Mum, I have just had a delicious-looking crepe with strawberries and cream put in front of me. I'd better go.'

‘Oh,' said Josie, sounding disappointed. ‘Okay then. I understand. Do call me again as soon as you're able.'

‘Will do. I love you, Mum.' Ned hung up and put his phone in his pocket. ‘Mmm, this looks just perfect.' He took a mouthful and smiled at Toni. ‘The strawberries have been soaked in something decadent.'

Toni smiled. ‘Cognac and red wine. Called drunken strawberries. I could only get frozen ones, I'm afraid, but I think it still works.'

They ate in silence for a few moments, enjoying the strawberries. Then Ned looked at Toni. Their eyes met and Ned slowly leaned towards her and licked a drop of cream off her lip, kissing her softly. ‘Are there any sober strawberries we could have for breakfast?'

‘Of course. I saved them specially.'

Ned gave a soft laugh as he took their empty plates, put them in the kitchen and then returned to Toni and took her in his arms.

*

The next morning, before Ned made his way back to his motel room, he and Toni made arrangements to meet for lunch at the seafood restaurant on the Endeavour River.

After he'd had a shower, Ned contemplated going to the supermarket. He knew he had to do a big shop to stock up on food. The roadhouse was good for essentials, but didn't have much variety. But that mundane task could wait until he was ready to head back to the bush, so to fill in time before lunch, Ned decided to have a walk around the town, to savour the busyness of the shops and people.

He stopped at the library and, after explaining to the librarian where he was living, was invited to join. Half an hour later he left with a small pile of books, which he took back to his room. Then, with a couple of hours still to fill, he decided to make another trip to the Cooktown museum.

The woman at the reception desk gave him a friendly nod and said that she remembered him from his earlier visits. Ned replied that he thought the
museum was very interesting and he enjoyed looking at the artefacts from Cooktown's colourful past.

He took another look at the rooms devoted to Captain Cook and took some photos of the exhibition on his phone. He wandered into some of the other downstairs rooms and reacquainted himself with the large range of Aboriginal and Chinese artefacts on display. He was about to leave when he decided that he would like to revisit the old piano he had seen earlier, so he went up the stairs and walked along the corridor. Ned felt ridiculously pleased to see the instrument again. ‘You've had so many adventures, and yet here you are,' he said quietly, resting his hand on its dusty lid.

He was about to turn and retrace his steps when he saw that there was a small room at the end of the corridor, and its door was open. Wondering what sort of exhibition was in there, Ned poked his head around the door and saw at once that it was a storage room. He took a step back and checked the front of the door, wondering if it was a restricted area, but he couldn't see any signs so he stepped inside.

It was a small space, filled with shelves of folders and books and boxes labelled with dates and the details of their contents. But while the room was crowded and cluttered, the wide and high windows gave a bright, stunning view to the river. Whoever had resided in this room could have spent many an hour at these corner windows observing the town and the seafront.

He pulled over a box and perched on it in front of the windows, trying to imagine what the scene outside might have looked like more than a hundred years ago
.
And as he sat there
Ned had the sudden feeling that small dust motes from long ago, echoes of events come and gone, of a life lived in this room, still lingered in the hazy sunlight filtering through the windows. Amongst what he had previously thought of as his aimless ideas, a small seed was making its presence felt. He needed to nurture the small shoots and roots he felt stirring.

Glancing around the room, he wondered what was in the boxes and cabinets. Curiously he lifted the lid of an old sandalwood box which was labelled:
From the Bish's archives. To be annotated.

He closed the lid of the box and retreated downstairs. Glancing at his watch, he decided that he should make his way to the restaurant for his lunch with Toni.

Toni greeted him with a smile. ‘How's your day been?' she asked.

‘Very enjoyable, but getting better by the minute,' said Ned, and he knew it was true. He told her what he'd been doing. ‘I could spend hours at the museum. The exhibits are just wonderful.'

‘See that man at the table over there?' said Toni, pointing discreetly towards a middle-aged man with thinning hair who was dressed casually in a polo shirt and cargo shorts and
sitting with an attractive blonde. ‘That's Ken Harris. He's the museum's curator. I'm sure he'd be pleased if you told him what you've just told me. Go on.'

‘He's with someone,' said Ned.

‘That someone is his wife. People don't mind being interrupted if you have nice things to say about their work.'

Before Ned could say another word, Toni had already gone over to the curator's table and, after a very brief conversation, she beckoned to Ned, who got up and joined them.

‘Ned, this is Ken and his wife, Emily,' Toni said, gesturing to the couple. ‘Ned was just telling me how much he enjoyed your museum, Ken.'

‘Yes,' said Ned, shaking Ken's hand. ‘I think you've done a wonderful job with all those exhibits. It really shows the colourful past of Cooktown.'

‘Thank you, Ned,' replied Ken, eyeing Ned. ‘Weren't you at the museum earlier today?'

‘I was actually,' said Ned, surprised to be recognised.

Ken smiled broadly. ‘I thought so! I'm so glad you enjoyed yourself.'

‘I did. The museum is fascinating.' Ken seemed very friendly and eager to talk about the museum, so Ned decided to ask about the mysterious box in the storage room. ‘I sort of wandered into a small storage room that was full of boxes. There was one labelled
From the Bish's archives
. It looked very old and untouched.'

Ken laughed. ‘You can't help smiling at such an Aussie note, can you? Actually, we haven't had the box all that long; it was recently sent up from Cairns, where it's been for years. The “bish” referred to on the box was the first bishop of Cooktown, Bishop Hutchinson. Unfortunately for us, the Cairns diocese
kept his pectoral cross which was given to him by a Cooktown merchant. It was made from Palmer River gold, and together with the chain weighed a good two hundred and fifty grams.'

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