The Thousand Smiles of Nicholas Goring (12 page)

"You've taken care of the kids already?" Monica asked – and when they nodded, she pondered for a moment. "Well, we might be making it really obvious if everyone gets lucky this morning, but I'll show you where Dad was working, if you like. We'd better look out for him, as well!"

They were soon done, and then the three of them started back up the track towards town. In the still air they could hear the humans, pets and wildlife all starting to wake up. The day had already lost the dawn chill. "Going to be a warm one," Dave remarked. "You might want to take it easy today, Nicholas."

Dave received a small wry smile in reply, equal parts gratitude and stubbornness with a dash of sorrow.

"Well, before you put your feet up, Nicky GT," said Monica, "we're on Frog Patrol, remember? Otherwise half the tour group will be unfit for anything at all."

"Nicky GT … ?" Dave echoed.

"All I need now is some serious bling," Nicholas said in tones of complete satisfaction. "Oh, and a hit record, of course."

Monica snorted.

Suzanne soon started finding her seeded colour, and criss-crossed that area bent almost double in order to closely examine the ground.

Chloe was next – finding not one but both Yowah nuts. Her joy quickly faded, though, when she caught Robin looking indulgent, and realised she'd been fooled. Then suddenly she powered up again. "Robin! Did you put these here for me to find?"

He quickly shook his head. "Not me." Robin glanced at Mike, though, obviously thinking him the mastermind.

"It wasn't us, either," Mike said.

Chloe thought for a moment, and turned to Dave with a quizzical brow.

"My services don't extend that far," he announced with a straight face.

"Don't look at me," Nicholas added. "It's enough being on Frog Patrol every minute of the day."

Mike concluded, "You're becoming a very successful prospector, Chloe!"

"Yeah, you really are," Robin agreed, obviously believing in their denials.

Chloe's face as she basked in Robin's compliment was like a flower at last unfurling in the sun.

When she finally returned to her fossicking, Dave saw that Robin's expression fell into dismay.

The week drew to a close all too soon, and the two families prepared to part at Cunnamulla airport. Mike shook Dave's hand in a particularly emphatic way, and said a few un-blokey things about what a truly wonderful time they'd all had. "Thank you," he continued. "You made everything easy, and I don't doubt we did more in a day than we'd have managed in a week without you. It's been an absolute pleasure."

"No worries at all," Dave replied. "And I really appreciate you letting me bring Nicholas and Robin along. We've had a great time, too."

"It's been wonderful having them with us – and meeting Charlie, as well. We couldn't have asked for more."

Not everyone was as happy, of course. Chloe was in tears at being parted from Robin, and Robin was dealing with that with all the awkwardness of youth. The two of them were already following each other on Twitter, and had exchanged email addresses, but at Chloe's age every parting was tragic and forever. Meanwhile, Monica had withdrawn into her cool shell again, though she did make sure she caught Nicholas's and then Dave's eye, and nodded an acknowledgement. Dave knew she'd enjoyed the trip, perhaps almost despite herself – and it was Monica who finally put a comforting arm around Chloe's shoulders, and led her off towards the plane.

Mike and Suzanne both thanked Dave and Nicholas again, and farewelled Robin, and then they left, too. Dave and Nicholas watched for a while longer, to make sure everything was shipshape, and then they all three waved as the plane taxied off to the runway. Soon it lifted into the air, banked to the east, and was gone into the haze. The living quiet of the Outback returned.

Dave had his arm around Nicholas's shoulders, and Nicholas had an arm likewise around Dave's waist. Nicholas leaned in closer for a moment, tucking his head in against Dave's. "It's been the most perfect week," Nicholas said. "I've loved every minute of it."

"Me, too," said Dave, tightening his hold for a moment.

"Thank you, David," Nicholas said, standing tall again so they could talk eye to eye.

"No worries, mate. But what for?"

"For this." Nicholas gestured broadly. "For us, for our life here. For everything."

Dave looked at this man, his husband, and said, "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Dave, Nicholas and Robin met Charlie at the Aboriginal reserve the next day. As before, Dave and Charlie went to sit with the gathered Elders while the other two went to hang out with the more sociable group in the shade thrown by the store and the neighbouring trees. Dave sat near a vacant spot, but a little removed from the circle, and Charlie settled beside him. Whatever certainty Dave had found last time he was here had gone again. He felt humbled. Thursday nodded a genial greeting at him, but Dave managed little more than a glum grimace, and then lowered his head.

After a while, Thursday prompted, "You think you bring bad news, David."

"Yeah. I should have known. Well, I did know, but I forgot for a while. It's hard to be taken seriously, when I'm obviously not Indigenous."

"You got no business with that place!" one of the others declared. "Charlie got no proper business, neither."

Dave had lifted his head at that, instinctively firing up, but he took a moment to consider his response. "The place itself, the waterhole, that's what's important. That's what comes first."

"You got no business performing the ceremonies."

"If there's someone more … suitable to pass the songs to –" Dave felt a stab of pain even at the thought – "I'll pass them on."

"No," said Charlie in his stubbornest tones.

"If there's someone from your people who'll take it on," Dave insisted – but then he stalled.

"No," Charlie said again. "It was the Ancestors put these thoughts in my head. That old man grunter chose you for that place."

"And who'll come after me?" Dave asked, honestly wanting to know. "Who will I pass the songs to when it's time?"

Charlie shrugged that off. "It's not time yet."

"Well, anyway," Dave said, turning again to Thursday. "I don't think I can help much in using the white man's law to protect the site. Nicholas is doing what he can for the butterflies, and his friend for the wattle. We think they're unique, and they're going to have them officially listed as ‘Vulnerable'. That might be enough in itself."

Thursday nodded thoughtfully.

"But," Dave continued, "I'm going to have to ask you to try to extend the reserve, to include the waterhole in your care. Will you do that, do you think?"

Another nod from Thursday, but the man who'd protested Dave's right to perform the ceremonies shifted ominously.

"I'm not asking for my own sake," Dave insisted, "but for the land's."

"We can apply to have it gazetted," one of the women said, "if you can tell us where exactly the waterhole is. None of us mob have been there."

"Fair point. I've been thinking about that. I've been thinking we probably need to hire a surveyor of our own. Even if that means we're opening it all up." Dave grimaced. "So, anyway, if you can … I think the sooner the better, right? Once people hear a mining company's involved, God only knows what interests come into play."

She nodded, and they all settled back into their thoughts, though some of them were happier than others.

After a while, when it felt as if it were about time to leave, Dave said a general "Thank you", and stood up.

"I'll stay here, mate," Charlie said, looking up at him.

"You sure? You want us to wait?"

"Nah, you go on. Young Robin'll be wanting his dinner. I'll get a lift into town later with one of this mob."

Dave went to round up his family, and take them back into Cunnamulla.

They'd decided on an early start the next day, so as to get back to Brisbane in reasonable time. Dave took their overnight bags out to the Cruiser while the morning was still cool and quiet and full of possibilities. Nicholas and Robin had gone to breakfast already, and promised to have a coffee ready for him when he met them there. All was well. Dave had slept soundly, and was recovering his usual sense of optimism. But a chill took him as he headed round to the back of the Cruiser and stowed the bags securely. Something was wrong.

Once he'd closed the rear door, he paced pensively along the length of her, carefully checking her out. The Cruiser was dusty, but that was only to be expected at this point. Her tyres seemed fully inflated. There weren't any scratches he didn't already know about.

It was only when Dave reached the bonnet and looked across that he realised. There was a bull's-eye break in the windscreen, with a starburst of cracks radiating out. He stood and stared at it for a long moment. It was serious; it would have to be fixed before they left Cunnamulla. But how the hell had it happened?

There was no way he wouldn't have noticed it the previous evening; it hadn't happened while he was driving from the reserve into town. Which meant that overnight, some kind of accident – or a deliberate drunken prank … Not that there was a guilty rock sitting on the bonnet or on the road nearby … Dave frowned, and pulled out his mobile.

First he took a few photos of the damage from different angles. Then he called the local garage, and asked if he could bring the Cruiser in for a replacement windscreen. They agreed, and said they could get it done pretty much right away.

By the time Dave had driven the Cruiser down there and walked back to the hotel, his coffee was cold.

"Did you report it to the police?" was Nicholas's first question once the coffee was replaced and Dave had explained where he'd been.

"No. Didn't seem much point."

"But –"

"It's fully covered by insurance. It's just annoying, really. We'll be leaving an hour later than we'd planned, but that's about all."

Nicholas let a beat go by, before saying, "Someone has deliberately damaged the Cruiser, and you're letting them get away with it?"

Dave shrugged, though of course it wasn't that he didn't care. "There's no proof it was anything but an accident. What could the police do? For that matter, there's no proof it didn't happen on the road yesterday."

Nicholas glanced from Dave to Robin and back again. "But it didn't, did it? We'd have known, wouldn't we?"

Dave brought out his phone, and showed Nicholas the photos.

"We'd have definitely known," Nicholas concluded. "So there's three witnesses, anyway."

"Three witnesses to say it didn't happen while I was driving – but that's all."

They pondered this. Dave drank his coffee.

Then Robin had a bright idea. "What about CCTV? There'll be footage of whoever did it. Or whatever happened."

Dave found himself reluctantly smiling. "Not out here, mate." He added with mock severity, "
Don't
run wild."

Nicholas was looking troubled, and absently rubbed a hand against his forehead in the way that always made Dave a bit anxious. That was the worst part about this: it pained Nicholas. Not that Nicholas was concerned for himself. "The poor Cruiser," he murmured, reaching to gently squeeze Dave's shoulder.

"Don't worry," said Robin. "Uncle David will kiss her better. She'll be
fine
."

"Eat your breakfast," Dave advised with a mock growl.

Of course, every time they drove through a town or some other location that had mobile reception, Robin's phone chimed to announce incoming messages. One, which arrived while they were passing through Dalby, seemed to put Robin in pensive frame of mind. Dave kept an eye on him in the rear-view mirror. Robin was doing nothing more than staring out the window at the unchanging scenery, so after about fifteen minutes of that Dave said, "You right, mate?"

Nicholas stirred and looked around, having fallen into his own reverie. "Robin … ?"

"I'm all right." But Robin sighed, and after a moment he said, "Uncle Nicholas …"

"Yes?"

"Has it been … you know … a real pain for you? Me being in love with you, I mean."

"No," Nicholas warmly replied. "No, of course not." He shifted around in his seat, so they could talk more directly. "Why do you ask?"

Robin grimaced, and didn't say anything.

Dave glanced at him in the mirror, and guessed, "Text message from Chloe?"

Another sigh, before Robin admitted, "Yeah." Then he asked Nicholas, "What am I supposed to do? I mean, it's not like … it's not as if there's anything I
can
do! I'm
not
going to fall in love with her. She's just a kid, for a start!"

"Be kind to her," Nicholas promptly replied. "Be a friend. Be patient. That's a great deal to be getting on with. And it will pass. These things always do."

"Do they?" Robin asked in sceptical tones.

"Yes. You know – this is a secret, all right? But when I was her age … and when I was your age, too, for that matter! I was in love with someone who would never love me back. It could have been horrible, it could have broken my heart, but he was kind to me, and actually now I think it was the … second most perfect thing that ever happened to me."

Robin had his head down, but Dave sensed somehow that the mood had changed.

"If you can be her friend," Nicholas forged on, "Chloe might one day look back on this as something that made her happy."

Silence.

"Robin?" Nicholas prompted.

A muffled noise from Robin might have been a sob or a groan – but turned out to be a laugh. Robin was suddenly grinning at Nicholas and bubbling over with mirth. "I know you were in love with Frank Brambell, Nicholas!"

"Oh." Nicholas seemed rather affronted. "Do you?"

"And for that matter, you still are, a little bit. Sorry, Uncle David."

Dave laughed, too. "No worries," he assured Robin. "It was one of the first things I knew about your uncle. We'd hardly even said g'day and he told me he had a thing for chauffeurs."