“What was what all about, dear?”
“All that pussy-footing about on eggshells with Chris; you could have cut the atmosphere with a knife.”
“I’m sorry if it seemed that way, but Chris did not want to get into the accident. You remember our little talk after I saw Mr Grossman…Adam obviously does. You don’t hear him questioning our conversation.”
“Sorry…I forgot. It’s all right for Adam – he’s almost a doctor; these things come naturally to him.”
“Let’s just think about Christmas, shall we, dear? Your dad’s still got all that to go through again when he goes back to hospital.”
“That reminds me,” Jennifer said, as Kate picked up the tea and mince tarts. “What was in the big bag Dad brought in when Chris arrived?”
Kate stopped in the doorway and looked at Jennifer. “Yes…I forgot all about that. Let’s find out. I bet your dad has forgotten as well.”
Kate walked into the lounge, handed Martin his tea and placed the dish of mince tarts on the coffee table in front of him; then she stood looking down at him with her clenched fists on her hips. “By the way, Martin Dexter, what was in that large plastic bag you brought in when Chris arrived?”
Martin looked up at her with a vague expression on his face. “Oh yes,” he said, placing his cup on the coffee table and getting up from the couch. He walked over to where Kate had dropped it, pulled it open and took out three presents.
Kate and the other two were amazed as they walked over to the tree and watched Martin place his presents amongst the others.
Kate was curious. “And when did you find time to buy those?”
With a satisfied expression on his face Martin told her he’d decided to buy them a month ago. It was just as well. The next week he had been told about the emergency at Site 21. As he positioned his presents in a prominent spot, moving others about to make room for his, he noticed the one with the little drummer boys.
“What’s this?” he asked, picking it up.
He looked around at their beaming expressions. “It’s your birthday present, dear,” Kate answered. “It’s been under the tree for a while.”
Martin placed it back under the tree. “Well, it can stay there until Christmas day. My birthday is long gone, so it can be another Christmas present.”
CHAPTER 29
It was the week after Christmas when Jennifer decided to take down the ornaments from the tree and Kate was sitting watching her as she sipped a small cherry brandy. It was one of the presents Adam bought her every Christmas; a thick warming liqueur that brought pleasure to the palate. But Kate was happy for another reason. Whether it was because Adam and Jennifer were making a particular effort to please their dad before they returned to their respective universities or that Martin was gradually settling into his old routine, Kate didn’t know. But she could see that spark of happiness in him that she had missed over the past few weeks.
“Mum…what’s going to happen to Dad when you go back to work on Monday?” Jennifer asked, turning away from the tree.
Kate stopped sipping her drink and looked in her direction. “It’s not what happens on Monday, dear, that bothers me, it’s what will happen when your father finishes his treatment.”
“I had forgotten about that. Is he going to stay over in the hospital?”
“Yes, dear. Mr Grossman says if things go well it should only take a couple of weeks. Then we might have your old dad back.”
Jennifer stopped what she was doing and came round to where Kate was and sat down beside her. She was like a little girl again. Whenever she hurt herself or Adam was nasty to her, she would cuddle up next to Kate, who would put her arm around her and stroke her hair.
“Oh Mum, I hope we get Dad back soon. I’m sick of seeing him sitting on the balcony looking out to sea. What does he see out there?”
“It doesn’t matter, dear; as long as it makes him happy and he’s not thinking about his friend Joe or the crash.”
On the morning Kate delivered Martin to Mr Grossman’s Psychiatry Unit, she knew she was going to struggle through the rest of the day. Her first chore was to report to her superior. That would be followed by a grilling from her colleagues. They all meant well, but to go over the same ground time and again was more than she could tolerate. Then, as she sat at her desk, she thought of Martin and what he must be going through.
Despite Martin’s aversion to hospital life, he settled back into the same room as if he was a permanent fixture. Familiarity seemed to be the key. He actually looked forward to the Balinese and Taiwanese maids’ attentiveness; if not his daily bed-bath embarrassment.
For some strange reason, Martin was not nervous when Mr Grossman outlined the hypnosis procedure. The first day was going to be a simple trial to ascertain Martin’s susceptibility to suggestion; because without that link, the treatment would be futile.
The sessions would be conducted in his consulting room, in an environment that did not smell of a hospital treatment room. He soon found Martin to be a good subject. He was relaxed; all his signs were as they should be and switching on the recording apparatus, Felix began. He decided to explore the possibilities of a fear fixation. He needed to know if Martin had a hidden trigger response.
“All right, Martin, I’m going to ask you a few simple questions to get you started; nod if you understand.” Martin nodded. “Now…going through the notes I put together about interviews with different people, one thing Kate mentioned, I found very interesting. She said you were particularly nervous the morning you were to fly… Why?”
Martin did not respond straightaway. He seemed hesitant. Either because he did not understand the question or he did not want to answer it. Then suddenly he spoke. “I had a bad feeling that morning.”
“What sort of bad feeling?”
“Like a premonition. I knew something was going to happen. As soon as I knew I was going to be flying in a light plane, I had a bad feeling.”
“Yet I’m told you do a lot of flying. Why this particular plane?”
“I fly in jets. They only have small windows.”
“Is that important?”
“Small planes have windows all round. They’re just like the Tiger Moth.”
“I’m sorry, Martin. What is a Tiger Moth?”
“It’s the plane I trained in, when I was in the RAF.”
Martin’s hypnosis session had taken a turn Felix had not expected. He was simply searching for possible vulnerabilities, and if he found any, he would explore that anomaly first. He never expected to unearth a whole new scenario.
“You say you were in the RAF; why don’t you tell me about it? Not everything, of course; just the part about the Tiger Moth.”
Felix could see Martin’s heart rate was climbing, but it was within a tolerable level. He decided to keep a close eye on the graph.
Martin did not start straightaway. The twitches in his hands down by his side and his REM eye movements seemed to indicate that he’d hesitated before entering that world again.
“I had to pass my take-off and landing procedures in the Tiger Moth before I was ready for my solo flight later that day. It was important to me if I was going to be able to progress on to my jet trainer lessons; so naturally I was a little nervous.
“I was on my third flight when a new instructor climbed into the plane; Lieutenant Parker had taken ill. I didn’t like this man straightaway. He was full of hell because he had to cancel a previous appointment. The first thing he said was: ‘Come on sprog, let’s get this thing over’. Usually I take off myself, but he wanted to show me how it was really done before he passed the control over to me.
“We did a few circuits and he said I’d do and told me to land the next time round. As I approached the runway we were suddenly hit with a strong wind that sucked the lift out of the plane. That’s when he should have taken over. I had no experience in turbulent weather; especially sudden gusts. When I told him, he just laughed and said, ‘This is what it’s all about�
��. If I couldn’t handle the plane in all weather conditions I shouldn’t be flying.
“I was shaking like a leaf. The plane was all over the place, but I finally managed to get it under control. I positioned her in line with the runway; all was fine, until, just as I was descending, we were hit with an almighty gust that lifted the plane one minute and dropped it the next. That’s when he snatched the stick. I could feel him taking over and I let go. It was too late. There was another gust and he clipped the trees at the end of the runway and flipped her over.”
“What was the outcome?” Felix questioned.
“It was disastrous. After months in hospital, he was left with an injured spine and I suffered a punctured lung. Neither of us flew again. He was left in a wheel-chair and I was written off as unfit to fly. He tried to blame me, but my RAF defence proved he should have taken control of the plane as soon as there had been any sign of unnatural weather conditions.”
Felix noticed Martin’s levels were climbing fast. He was sobbing by now and Felix told him to calm himself and slowly brought him round. Everything returned to normal except the wetness on his cheeks.
“What’s this?” Martin said, wiping his face with the back of his hand. “Have I been crying? Why was I crying?”
Kate’s first day back was becoming a bore. The reorganised system to accommodate her absence meant nothing was coming across her desk, and it would take time for the routine to re-adjust. She rang Professor Sinclair, her superior, and asked if she could take the afternoon off to settle things with Martin’s employer.
He understood, even suggesting that Kate should take time off until Martin was cleared from the hospital. She said this afternoon should be enough. Her assistant could handle things until tomorrow.
Kate had spent a good part of the morning looking into the possibility of Willy joining the residential school, the curriculum scheduled and when an opening would be available. Her position on the Educational Council carried enough weight to guarantee an immediate space for Willy. All she had to do now was see if Philip could arrange for her to use AMINCO’s radio.
After the conversation Kate had with Philip to arrange a meeting she was full of confidence when she arrived at the AMINCO headquarters. Philip must have seen her drive into the car park. He was waiting with his door open and immediately left his desk to greet her.
“It’s good to see you, Kate,” he said, taking hold of her shoulders and kissing her on the cheek. Kate smiled back at him, glad he was in a receptive mood.
He sat her down in one of the easy chairs in the corner of the room by the window, and returning to his desk, he picked up the phone.
“Elsie, Kate’s arrived. Can we have that pot of tea now, please?”
“You shouldn’t go to so much bother,” Kate said.
He shook his head and asked how Martin was doing.
Kate placed her handbag by the side of her seat and replied as he joined her, “He did very well over Christmas. He’s back at the hospital starting a new round of treatment,” she said, with a slight snigger. “Of course you’ll know all about that.”
Philip tried to smile. “I’m sorry about the intrusion. Unfortunately Martin is still under the scrutiny of our insurance company in America; you can imagine what they’re like. You can stop them if you wish, but you’ll lose any future benefits.”
“It’s all right, Philip. You forget I work for the government. They’re just as pedantic; maybe even worse.”
The sensitive subject was put on hold as Elsie walked in with the tray. It was unusual to see a tea pot, milk jug and sugar basin. Alongside the mugs there was also a plate of assorted biscuits for good measure.
“Hello Kate,” she said, placing the tray on the coffee table. “How’s Martin?”
“Thank you, Elsie…he’s coming along fine.”
A phone rang in Elsie’s office and she dashed off, leaving Philip to pour the tea. As she sweetened her mug, Philip continued their discussion.
“I think this last lot of treatment will settle matters, and then we can get back to discussing Martin’s future,” he said, testing his tea.
“His future?” Kate questioned, puzzled by his early remark.
“I’m sorry again, Kate. That’s Larry Kingston’s phrase. He’s always way ahead of everyone else; it’s hard to keep up with him at times,” he said, sipping his drink again, expecting a response from Kate. “He has this idea that after Martin’s ordeal he won’t want to continue with field work. So he’s come up with this idea of forming an engineering school here to train budding young engineers.”
“And what has that got to do with Martin?”
“Sorry. I thought you got my drift. He wants Martin to run it.”
Kate was amazed. She had no idea why Philip would raise such a question at this stage; unless he was testing the waters, thinking Martin might have confided his future thoughts to his wife.
“I must admit, Philip, I’m surprised. Martin is finding it difficult enough coping with his current problem to be considering his future.”
“Of course,” he replied. So…you said you wanted to ask me something.”
“Yes…I did,” she answered. “I was wondering if it would be possible to use your radio on occasions.”
A puzzled expression crossed Philip’s face before he answered. “That’s a strange request. Have you a particular reason?”
“Oh yes…do you remember the Aboriginal boy who saved Martin’s life by taking him to the cattle station?”
“Vaguely…his name was Willy, by all accounts.”
“That’s right. Well, during their time together in the Sandy Desert, Martin found out Willy wanted to improve himself. He was not happy with just living in the camp or the traditional life; he wanted more out of life. Anyway, after Martin told me, I decided to have a word with Willy’s teacher. She agreed; she said he was an extremely bright young boy and deserved a better education.”
“I see…and the reason for the radio?”
“It’s the only way I can communicate with her; to tell her if I can arrange to get Willy into a residential school here in Broome and when that can be arranged.”
“And has this Aboriginal boy said what he wants to do?”
Kate laughed. “Believe it or not, he wants to be an engineer like Martin. I think that decision was based on his first contact with the outside world.”
“He could be a candidate for Kingston’s new school.”
“Then you will help me sort this out?”
“Of course, Kate. Anything I can do to help the boy who saved Martin.”
Kate looked so pleased. “Thank you, Philip,” she said, taking out the piece of paper with the call sign information on it.
“Hold your horses,” he said. “I don’t know one end of a radio from another. You need to talk to our man in charge of radio communications, Josh Mackenzie. So pick up your piece of paper and we’ll go and scare the pants off him.”
“I beg your pardon.”
“It’s only a joke. Josh is one of those technicians who prefers being on his own, muffled up in his headset, listening to the ether. So he’s a little shy of strangers…especially women. Come on,” Philip said, helping Kate out of her seat.
He led her along the corridor, just as Martin had that fateful morning, past the lounge she’d met Joe in and on to the Operations Room. This was an area she’d only heard about. Despite its size it was claustrophobic, lit only by an array of computer screens around the walls. The occupants were not aware of her presence and Philip did not disturb them. Instead he continued on to the end of the room known as Josh Mackenzie’s domain. The sign on the door, ‘The Radio Shack’, said everything. Philip pushed the door open and they entered.
It was not a huge space from what she could see of it. Each side of the room was divided into small cubicles, much like the listening booths in a record shop, and, as in the other room, its occupants appeared too busy to notice, except a tall burly man who stood up and walked towards
them. It was difficult to see him clearly, until he stood near a white light over a small cabinet that looked like a fridge.
Working attire apparently was not important – sweat shirt and jeans seemed the order of the day – but her attention was drawn to his long ginger hair and beard.
He removed his headphones and let them fall around his neck as his blue penetrating eyes scanned the woman Philip dared to bring into his enclave, and the gap in his beard twisted in one corner as he greeted her in a coarse Scottish accent.
“It’s my pleasure to meet you, Mrs Dexter. I was so sorry to hear about Martin; he’s a good bloke. We always got on,” he said, glancing at Philip.
“Thank you, Josh…I can call you Josh, can I? I’m Kate,” she said.
“Why yes, Kate. I’d deem it a privilege.”
Philip stepped into the conversation. “Josh, Kate wants to make contact on occasions with a cattle station in the desert. Can you arrange that?”
“Indeed I can,” he said. “You come over here, my dear, and we’ll see what we can do.” He pulled out a spare chair next to the first cubicle for her to sit on.
“Is it all right if I pop next door for a moment, Kate?” Philip asked.
“That’s fine, Philip. I’ll be all right here with Josh.”
Philip left and Josh sat down in front of his equipment. He turned to her with an open palm. “I gather you have their call sign and frequency lassie…oh, sorry, Kate, I forget myself at times.”
“That’s okay, Josh; we’re all guilty of falling back into our native ways,” she said, retrieving the piece of paper again and passing it to him.
“Aye…that’s what I want,” he drawled.
As he checked her information with a book of codes, Kate took the opportunity to familiarise herself with Josh’s environment. It was fascinating. On the wall above his bench there was a map of Australia decorated with large pins with numbers on them. They meant little to her, except they all seemed to be in an area with little else around it, until her focus was drawn to a pin in the Sandy Desert between Broome and Port Hedland.
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