by Lucy Walker
Her eyes filled with tears.
‘I would like to believe you,’ she said. ‘But I can’t, Jard. There’s too much in it of other people. Other people’s words. Their insinuations. At best their anticipations. You know what I mean, don’t you?’
‘Fine five-syllable words. You left out the only important one. It has a single syllable. What about love?’
‘Ah yes, Love! You can’t love a face, Jard, except for a very little while. One becomes accustomed to a face. And accustomed to a person. Accustomed to their ways. That’s out of a song, isn’t it? One should never become accustomed to love. But thank you all the same. What you’ve just said, and how you’ve said it, is the nicest thing that has ever happened to me. I’ll never forget it.’
He suddenly stood up straight, took her hand and drew her upright. They were standing face to face.
‘And I’m damned if I’m going to let you forget it,’ he said. He pulled her roughly into his arms, and kissed her.
It was a long kiss, full of ardour. Something more, too. Tenderness, possessiveness and what could be … could it? A kind of loving? Real loving?
He released her, looked straight in her eyes for an ageless moment, and took her hand again. His eyes said ‘I love you! And to hell with whatever you imagine’. But she didn’t believe his eyes. She couldn’t.
‘Come,’ he said. ‘Let’s go and give the Dig-in a good and proper look-over. We’ll tell the others later … when the party’s on. That is, when and if you can bring yourself to say that one word ‒ Yes. You’ll tell me when, won’t you?’ He did not wait for an answer, but she went with him ‒ easily. Not so unhappy as she had been before.
They looked over the bunk houses and Jard told her interesting things about them. How they were built down south and brought up on jinkers. He took her over to the nearest rig where the men were just drawing up a scoop of cuttings. He showed her the core tray where the samples from the one distant trial diamond drill were laid in troughs side by side. Strangely coloured and zig-zag patterned things they were. Like giant stone worms. He showed her the map where other percussion drilling rigs were still at work. Some of them were out of sight.
The ground was here and there trenched ‒ costeans, he called them. These were exploratory trenches dug to see whether percussion drilling was worth a try. If the precious metal was still showing recurrence and density then later they would replace the percussion drills with diamond ones.
‘David’s reports show a number of areas in a good strikeline where the depth of specimens promises even greater depth,’ he said. ‘That’s what has brought the Directors up. Diamond drilling is a costly business. They need to know, and see for themselves ‒ as Company witnesses ‒ that the stuff is here and worth penetration with the big drills.’
All the time he held her hand, as if taking her, a child, from one merry-go-round to another.
The men on the drills, white-helmeted for protection, watched them. When Jard spoke to them they pushed their helmets to the back of their heads and grinned cheerfully. Mardie could see they liked him.
‘By golly, Jard,’ one of them, a foreman, said. ‘You’d, better show us you can bring enough water down from that lake of yours under the mesa range. We’re going to need it. There’ll be a mine in this or I’ll eat my cone-bit.’
Jard’s smile was slow but good. ‘I have the water,’ he said. ‘You find the right stuff and we’re in it together.’
‘Yeah. I heard the Directors have been over your maps and reports with a toothcomb. Say, mate! How come you can get a lake the size of New Guinea underground when on top out here it’s nothing but ruddy desert?’
‘Ask Mister Falldown next time he comes round. He’ll tell you those fellas knew all about it “all alonga Dreamtime Land”.’
‘Isn’t the old chap coming in for the film show tonight?’
‘He’ll come. But like his usual hermit self, he’ll sit out there in the bush and look at it from afar. You know him, Harry. He likes his own company best.’
‘Yeah. You and his menagerie too. Say, Jard, how come the old fella’s taken such a fancy to you? You got something special?’
Jard grinned. ‘Yes. Intelligence and bush manners. You’d be surprised how the combination works … if you and the other chaps would just try it.’
‘I’ll tell ’em,’ Harry said laconically. And went back to work.
Chapter Sixteen
Sundown came and with it the barbecue. Station people ‒ owners, wives, managers, stockmen, roustabouts and stray visitors ‒ all came. Some of them from a hundred to two hundred miles away. The Dig-in’s cook excelled himself but many of the close-in station people brought their own contributions. The Company had had cases of fruit and salads, drinks of every variety sent up by air. From the back of Jard’s ute Mrs Richie produced six of the biggest pavlovas on record. She had hidden them in two ice boxes unbeknown to Mardie. Secrets as well as marvellous cooking were two facets of Mrs Richie’s warm-heartedness. The Mansells were loaded down with a great supply of the largest beefsteaks Mardie had ever seen.
The men on the rigs had stopped off an hour early and had now erected the wide screen out on the best patch between the spinifex grass they could find. Everyone had brought rugs or cushions.
There was an atmosphere of great fun and excitement. Lonely people working in lonely places knew how to make a party a wow when one was really turned on.
Jard had made introductions all round and Mardie found herself in the delightful situation of being actually and warmly ‘wooed’ by the Dig-in’s Directors. They thought she was a ‘wonder girl’ to have thought up those motel units for accommodation at The Breakaway.
‘Now we can come and go without having to dig down out here in the spinifex,’ the Chairman told her. ‘Besides, if there is a mine out of this exploration exercise ‒ and we think there will be ‒ we’ll need all that accommodation and more. The Company’s willing to finance you to double, even treble it. How’s that for a bargain?’
Mardie was bewildered. ‘It would take a lot of managing,’ she said thoughtfully.
‘Mr Lawson says hand that side of it over to the Richies. They’ll manage anything, even a moon walk if the Americans want it.’
Mardie laughed. It was true. The Richies were born managers; good-willed and happy about it too.
‘Why did Mr Lawson have to take off so soon?’ she asked, troubled. She badly wanted to see him ‒ mostly about what had taken place between herself and Jard.
‘He had a court case due in Perth in a few days’ time. He did take time to be the first to sign in for accommodation in one of those new units of yours, Miss Forrester. “Making history”, he called it.’
‘Yes …’ she said slowly. ‘He did want to do that. He, too, has a vested interest. He is my trustee. You know that?’
‘Yes. He’s also a member of the Historical Society, hence his interest in “making history”. The best friend you ever had, thrown in for good measure.’
‘Thank you for saying that last bit. I knew that myself. Before Mr Lawson took me over I was so ‒ well ‒ all alone, specially where The Breakaway legacy was concerned. It, too, is part of the history of the outback. My godfather would not have wanted it to disappear.’
‘But you’re not alone now?’
‘No. Thanks to Mr Lawson and you all at the Dig-in, David, Joanna, and …’
‘You haven’t heard? What’s gone wrong with the bush telegraph? Oh dear! Now you’re going to have a disappointment. David’s accepted a transfer to our next exploration area up in the Kimberleys. He’ll probably tell you about it when he can get through organizing the stoke-up for the barbecue. Needless to say, Miss Seddon will go with him …’
‘Joanna? With David?’ Mardie had a slightly stunned feeling. ‘I thought she was wedded to the Dig-in.’
‘Miss Seddon is wedded to any job she’s on. She’s a hundred per cent efficient, which means that any job she’s on she owns. But we have good r
eplacements we’re sending up. Her work here has been excellent, and her extra services such as the First Aid Unit and as occasional stand-in for the cook, have been a boon. She’ll move on and possess the next exploration field and be a boon to that, too.’ The Chairman broke into a kindly laugh. ‘Just between you and me, Miss Forrester, the Board of Directors sometimes think our Miss Seddon possesses the entire Company ‒ Chairman and all.’ His smile was amused but kindly. ‘Not that we’d have it otherwise. A very valuable asset indeed is our Miss Joanna.’
‘And she’ll go? I mean she’ll want to go?’
‘She has already said so. She all but looked David in the eye and said, “Lead on, MacDuff”. Give her a challenge, tough as you like, and she’ll rise to it. A bit like one of those pavlovas your Mrs Richie brought over from The Breakaway. Have you had some? If not, rush it now. It’ll all be gone within five minutes of the men spotting it.’
‘Yes … of course …’ Mardie was feeling dazier and dazier every minute. ‘But Jard? I thought Joanna worked with Jard … some of the time. Is he going, too?’
‘No. Not Jard. He’s mapped water all right, but that’s one thing they won’t need up in the new exploration area. When the Ord River is in flood it’s almost enough to keep the Indian Ocean going. Jard now has the long job of bringing the water down to wherever we put the mine. He will oversee the construction of suitable bores, the drilling and construction of a well-field. Not to mention overseeing all pumping equipment, testing of water flow and so on. I’m afraid Jard Hunter will be with the field for many a long day.’
‘So Jard stays.’
There was a twinkle in the Chairman’s eye as he looked at her.
‘Jard stays … God and Jard willing,’ he said. ‘Ah, here comes David. Ask him how it’s done, Miss Forrester. I’m only a business man. He’s the professional. Now, excuse me, I’ll leave you while I tackle my share of that pavlova.’
David’s grin was heart-warming. ‘So you’ve heard the news, Mardie love! I can see it in your wan smile. We’re shortly to part and we’re both stuck with broken hearts.’
‘David darling, I’ve a dreadful confession to make.’
His eyebrows did a half-moon waltz. ‘Don’t tell me you love me all that much?’ he said, teasing.
‘Yes, I love you. Of course I do. All the girls do. But I’m not in love. Does that make a difference?’
‘Not a bit if you’re in love elsewhere. I’m always in love all over the place. But there’s someone round here all geared up that way about you, Mardie. Don’t treat him rough, will you? He’s too good for that.’
‘David … you’re trying to tell me about Jard, aren’t you? I’m so tired of playing with words I’d rather we all came out with everything we mean. I’ve been doing that ‒ I mean playing with words. And now I’m all guilty …’
‘Here, come sit on this fat boulder and tell Uncle Charlie all about it. He’s a good listener.’
‘You mean David disguised as Uncle Charlie is a good listener. Well … whichever you are I’m about to tell the truth. Sort of cleanse my soul. Listening? I set you up, David. Yes, I did. I let someone think I was all that crazy about you ‒ in the in love sense ‒ he probably went away to wait for you to announce the marriage banns. That rather put you in a nasty spot, didn’t it? So I’m saying I’m sorry and please forgive.’
‘And Jard was the one to whom you told that heartrending story?’
‘Not told. Suggested is a better word.’
‘Well, you’d just better heave yourself off this nice fat boulder and go do some unsuggesting. That was a right cruel thing you did to Jard. You aren’t that bitchy by nature, are you, darling? You’re a proper little humbug.’
‘Cruel to Jard?’ Mardie thought David was temporarily a little mad. How could anyone be cruel to Jard? He was the hit-back kind, wasn’t he?
‘Yes. I’ll tell you something about Jard, sweetheart. And you’d better listen hard. Jard’s the most honest chap who ever lived, and I’ll blast anyone off the top of the mesa who says not. But he’s a loner. You know … the man who walks and thinks by himself. Too far outback with his work to fall in love. But at all times lonely all the same. Then he sees a girl, and click go the shears. The armour plate falls off. He’s got something for her. From the boots up.’
‘Who? Am I allowed to know?’
‘Don’t play dumb all the time, love. A girl called Mardie Forrester. Ever heard of her?’
‘David. You’ve been listening to that beastly gossip. You, too, think Jard should jump on a white charger and gallop off to save the fair lady’s name from perdition.’
‘I don’t think any such damn’ stupid Victorian rot. What I think is this ‒ and you listen carefully, sweetie. I’ve known Jard since back in University days. And I know him well enough to know he wouldn’t ask any girl west of the border or south of the Timor Sea to take a ride with him on a tandem, let alone in a helicopter, unless he had a something for that girl. And a something he meant. Are you listening?’
Mardie nodded. ‘Yes,’ she said in a very muted whisper.
‘Okay then. When they told me over the two-way from the Vet’s call at Mansell’s Corner that Jard had actually invited a young lady to take a joy ride with him in the ’copter, I said, Great! He’s like the rest of mankind. He’s fallen for a girl at last! And one thing more. I could have given a whoopee it was Mardie Forrester, the nicest pet this side of the Gibson Desert. Still listening?’
‘Yes.’
‘Don’t turn him down, Mardie ‒ just because there happened to be a crash and a couple of baddies looking on. Then some talking all-about. He’s all for you. And he means it. He’s a loner … always has been … but he doesn’t want to be a loner any more. The time comes for every man when he needs a girl’s companionship and, if possible, love. You got the message?’
Mardie was silent. She twisted her hands in her lap while trying to believe David’s words. Wanting to believe them. Yet afraid.
‘But how do you know all this, David?’ she said at length. ‘You haven’t a girl … unless it’s Joanna.’
He threw back his head and laughed.
‘Joanna be blowed!’ he said. ‘Joanna is dedicated to possessing something or someone for the time being. It never lasts. The Directors have put it to her to join the team on this new exploration trip up to the Kimberleys. What does she do? Drops everyone and everything else that’s ever been in her mind with a clang you could hear on Thursday Island. Or as far as the black stump the other side of the Nullabor. She’s got something new to boss, bully, organize and possess. A brand new Exploration Camp. All hers. At least, that’s what I’ll let her think to keep her happy and at high-water mark efficiency-wise. Have you registered all that, Mardie sweetheart?’
‘Yes, I think I have. And do you know, David … I think you’re right. Joanna is a born boss, and because she is a female she has to prove it harder than any man has to prove it. So she bosses harder ‒ seemingly.’
‘Right again. And one thing more, love. That bit about me not having a girl. Come the day I have the chance I’ll show you my address book. Then we won’t talk about “a girl”. It’ll be “girls”. Dozens of ’em.’
Jard was coming across the open space between where they sat on the boulder and the burning coals under the barbecued steaks. He was licking the fingers of one hand, boy-like.
‘Must you two stay talking the whole night through?’ he asked mildly. Yet under that mildness there was a question mark. Something that had a streak of determination in it.
‘Well, Mardie kinda likes looking at the after-sundown sky,’ David said cheerfully, getting up and stretching himself as if he, as a person, held no such interests. ‘Swap you places, Jard,’ he said. ‘That is, if this here bush-rose will excuse me. I, too, would like a barbecued steak, a stiff drink, and some of that famous pavlova.’
He moved away, then glanced back.
‘Don’t forget to bring Mardie back before all the food i
s gone, Jard,’ he said. ‘Meantime I’ll give you a tip. Make her face the truth … for a change. About who she’s fallen for ‒ love-wise. And who she hasn’t. You just might let her in on who’s fallen for her, hey? Au’voir, the pair of you. Good talking!’
Mardie might have blushed except that she knew this was no more than another case of David making funnies. Jard would know that too, she thought. It was all a joke. Self-made this time. So meant to be taken in fun. The only thing she could do was smile it off, the way one always did when the name of the game was teasing.
Jard’s eyes were looking into hers. What did he think of what he saw? It couldn’t be much. The day was dying and all that was left of it was the red flag of a sun already set. Not enough light in which to read eyes. He wouldn’t see her valiant attempt to keep up with David’s teasing, would he? She wondered what his eyes would look like if he did fall in love. What she’d dreamed she’d read in them earlier? From what the last of the sunset could tell her they reasoned with her gently. They were no longer aloof nor superior as she had first known them.
He seemed so high up, standing there. But then, he had always seemed high up, and alone in that high-upness. That was because there was no one else like him.
They were silent as if they might have so much to say neither could say anything. Mardie did not dare look quite at him.
She thought of herself as a rather ordinary town girl who had come up here in the wild lands of vast spaces to live. And she’d met a man with the kind of eyes that could stare straight into the sun, or measure the terrible distances of this outback with a glance.
