Croc Country

by Kerry McGinnis

  Trepidation seized Tilly. ‘I can?’

  ‘Course you can. I told those for the river walk a nine o’clock start. It’s simple. Stick to the trail. If there are kids, make ’em behave, and then just answer everybody’s questions. You can handle that. You know enough about the birds and vegetation now. And don’t forget to invite them to the slide show.’

  ‘Got it,’ Tilly said faintly. She had gone along and helped on previous walks, admiring the effortless way Luke had controlled the group. He had the attributes of a good sheepdog, she thought, keeping the stragglers up with the rest, and being polite but firm even with those who thought they knew better. And entertaining them to boot. ‘Right,’ she said, hoping she sounded confident, ‘so we’ll need our lunches then?’ A happy thought occurred to her. Connor might be free; if he was, she could ask him to join the group. It was enough to put a smile on her face as she pulled out the bread to begin making sandwiches.

  As it turned out, the morning’s efforts, though initially nerve-racking, stood Tilly in good stead for the evening’s performance, which Luke again insisted she share. ‘You need to get comfortable with it,’ he said. ‘Who knows? You could be doing it all next year. I mean, once Sandstone’s up and running, we’re going to have to split forces, aren’t we? And you’ve plenty of local knowledge, Tilly. It doesn’t have to be birds. You can talk about the country’s history, industry, climate. I’ve jotted down a few dates and facts on a sheet for you. The year the WPA started up here, and why these sanctuaries are necessary. Then there’s rainfall – you’ve been through a Wet here, so tell them about it. There’s Sweetheart, the biggest croc ever caught in the Top End – I’ve noted down his weight and length – and they can even go and see him in Darwin. They love hearing that sort of stuff. It’s also a good reminder not to ignore the no-swimming signs.’

  ‘Okay. Dear God! It says here he was over five metres long and he attacked boats! If I’d known that, I’d never have taken Mum on the river.’

  ‘Well, he’s in a tank in Darwin now, so she was perfectly safe. How did the walk go this morning? I had a bugger of a kid on mine. I could have happily dropped him off the cliff, and his mother with him.’

  ‘It was good. It helped that we saw an old tarpot slithering along in the grass. Nothing like sighting a snake to keep people on the path, even if it is only a python.’ She grinned.

  He gave her a wink in return. ‘Sure thing. Let nature work for you, I say.’

  Despite her nervousness, the evening talk went well. Making discreet use of her torch, Tilly was able to check the facts on her cheat sheet, and in a moment of inspiration spoke of her own introduction to the breathtaking difference of the country: the wet hush of tropical dawns, the jewelled colours of the insects – iridescent beetles, ruby-red and sky-blue dragonflies – the cuteness of the shaky-paw lizards and the novelty of barking geckos. She was roundly applauded at the conclusion, not least by Connor, whom she hadn’t known was in the audience.

  ‘You had them spellbound,’ he said, sliding his large hand around her smaller one. ‘Cuppa at my camp?’ He brushed a kiss onto her cheekbone. ‘It could lead on to other things if you want.’

  ‘You think so?’ Tilly’s heart lifted as she swayed towards him. There was, she told herself, no reason to hold back. ‘Mmm, you know I might consider that. How big is your bed?’

  ‘Big enough. It’s a swag, well padded too.’ His hand cupped her bejeaned bottom. ‘And I’ll keep you warm.’

  ‘And breakfast? Would that be included in the deal? I have to work, you know. I’ll probably be pulling down fences tomorrow.’

  His lips nibbled at the skin below her ear, sending little pulses of excitement through her. ‘I think I could probably find something adequate in my tuckerbox,’ he murmured.

  ‘You might have to drop me back home quite early,’ she warned. ‘If you can manage that, we’re on.’

  ‘A very modest request, dear heart, and entirely doable.’ He linked their hands, his thumb massaging the side of her finger. ‘I’ll walk you up.’

  ‘After we help carry the gear,’ she demurred.

  He gave a martyred sigh, but heaved the screen rig onto his shoulder, leaving the box of slides for Luke. It gave her the opportunity for a murmured explanation to the young ranger. ‘I’m spending the night in the camp. Tell Sophie. I’ll make a start on the chores, and you can pick me up there in the morning, rather than me coming back, okay? Don’t forget my lunch.’

  The dark hid Luke’s expression and any surprise he may have felt. ‘Okay,’ he agreed. ‘So, the lovebug bites again, hey? Must be something in the water round here.’

  ‘Besides crocs, you mean? Well, you should know,’ she quipped. ‘And surprise! The young aren’t the only possible victims.’

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Tilly woke with an ache in her right hip and a heavy weight across her shoulder. It took a second to remember, then she stretched luxuriously and rolled towards Connor, dislodging his arm and waking him. ‘Good morning.’ She kissed his chin, feeling the bristles there. ‘I have to tell you, sir, that you got me here under false pretences.’

  ‘Yes?’ He pulled her closer, his hand roving down her bare back. ‘How is that, then?’

  ‘According to my hip, your swag is lined with rocks. That said’—she smiled into his eyes, blowing a stray strand of hair from her face—‘the rest of the night lived up to its billing.’

  ‘Well, that’s a relief. We could,’ he said hopefully, ‘stay here a bit longer? It’s cosy, not really that rocky and we’re both naked—’

  ‘And Luke will be along before you know it,’ she said, thrusting the blankets back and yipping at the cold. ‘If there’s still hot water to be had, I want a shower, and breakfast, so stir your stumps, my dear. Feeding me was part of the bargain, remember?’

  He sighed, but sat up, the blankets pooling around his waist. ‘Brr! You’re a hard, mercenary woman, but eminently kissable.’ He suited the action to the word, releasing her reluctantly. ‘Did I tell you I adore you, Tilly Hillyer? Because I do. Last night was . . .’ He shook his head. ‘Let’s just say that right now I could die happy.’

  She laughed, but her heart sang at his words and she leant to kiss him again. ‘I’d rather you cooked breakfast, handsome. I’ve work to do and I suspect you have too. Up and at ’em, boyo.’

  A very quick shower later, for the water had been just lukewarm, Tilly sat down to cereal, pancakes and tea. They ate in the little annexe out of the wind, and she lifted her face gratefully to the newly risen sun.

  ‘I should’ve brought gloves. Never mind, it’ll warm up soon enough. So what are you planning for today?’

  ‘I might head out to that new road, and lay up somewhere out of sight. Ideally we should have a twenty-four-hour watch on it, but that’d mean pulling Des away from his post, and maybe missing movement along the coast.’

  ‘You will be careful,’ she said, alarmed by the idea. ‘I mean, the poachers seem to travel in pairs. You won’t tackle them alone?’

  ‘I’ll be fine, Tilly. Ten to one I’ll twiddle my thumbs all day for nothing. What about tonight? Can you—’

  Regretfully she shook her head. ‘My turn in the kitchen tomorrow, so I’m afraid not. We’ll just have to wait. And now I’d better go clean my teeth because if that’s not Luke I can hear, then someone’s abroad very early. I told him I’d start on the chores too.’

  ‘Till later then,’ he said, standing. He pulled her into his arms for a final kiss. ‘Don’t work too hard, my love. And thank you for last night.’

  ‘And you be careful,’ she admonished. ‘I mean it. You’re always telling me how dangerous those men are. So no tackling, hmm?’

  He grinned. ‘Only pint-sized women then. And only if they look like you. Okay, okay. Later then?’

  ‘That’s a promise,’ she vowed and went.

  Luke was at the ablution block unloading the day’s supply of wood when she got there.

  ‘
Sorry.’ Tilly grabbed the ash bucket and shovel from the lock-up. ‘I got a bit caught up. Cold enough for you?’

  ‘Eight degrees by the verandah thermometer,’ he said, inhaling. ‘Nice brisk weather, so who’s complaining? It must’ve got colder than this back in Victoria.’

  ‘This is the north.’ Tilly rubbed her freezing fingers together. ‘What’s Matt up to today?’

  ‘Getting on with the posts, I think.’ Sophie had come up with a plan to replace the rocks that prevented vehicles from driving across camp sites with sturdy posts. ‘Oh, and he wants to check something on the pump, so he said not to start it up. He’ll see to it later.’

  ‘He picked a good day for it.’ Tilly shivered. ‘Nobody’s going to be having long showers. It was icy in there this morning. I was afraid of getting frostbite.’

  ‘I’ve just the job lined up then.’ Luke grinned evilly. ‘Ve haff vays to keep you varm, madame. We’re going to extend the cliff walk, and that means clearing scrub. I’ve brought the whipper snipper and the brush hook.’

  ‘Oh, goody,’ Tilly said. ‘Did you bring the lunches?’

  ‘Nope. I thought we’d go home. No need to finish it all today.’

  When midday arrived, Tilly, remembering Luke’s words, doubted that the job could be finished within a month. There wasn’t much growth along the escarpment’s top, but what there was had no intention of yielding without a fight. Luckily Luke had put work gloves in with the tools or she hated to think what the wiry, deep-rooted shrubs would have done to her hands. Metre by metre, they grubbed a winding path through turkey and booran bush, and past the odd, stunted gum, rolling aside the larger rocks to clear the painted lines Luke had sprayed on either side of the proposed walking track.

  ‘I just hope our tourists appreciate what we do for them,’ Tilly panted, sinking onto the latest rock she had heaved aside. ‘I’ll have Mr Universe arms by the time we’re through.’

  ‘Take a break.’ Dropping down on his heels, Luke wiped a palm across his face. ‘About time we headed back anyway. But hey, on the plus side, you’re no longer cold, are you?’

  ‘Exhausted, hungry and my arms are dropping off, but cold? No. How did you guess.’

  ‘Ve haff strange powers, madame. Okay, let’s pack up for now. Tomorrow – no, I’ll be cooking, so the day after – will be soon enough to come back.’

  ‘Glad to hear it.’ Tilly rose with a groan to face the long trudge back to the vehicle; they had left it half a kilometre behind them at the foot of the cliff.

  Back at the homestead, the table was still set despite it being an hour past their normal lunchtime. Sophie, looking pleased with herself, pulled a dish from the oven and presented it with a flourish.

  ‘We’re a bit low on bread,’ she said, ‘but I found this recipe and it seemed simple enough.’

  ‘Quiche? That’s nice,’ Tilly said, keeping her reservations about the pastry to herself. She glanced around. ‘Where’s Matt?’

  ‘He came back from the camp in a bit of a mood. I think he might’ve had a run-in with a camper – he muttered something about the river. There’s always some idiot who won’t listen to the safety regs. Anyway, he made himself a sandwich and left. That’s when I realised how low the bread supply was. I had some of the quiche,’ she said encouragingly. ‘It’s not that bad. And by the way, Luke, your professor rang from the roadhouse. He’s had fuel trouble and reckons he won’t get here before dark.’

  Luke grimaced. ‘He’s only at Alloway? Does he want help? I could drive—’

  ‘No, he says he’ll be fine, just late. The mechanic’s draining the tank and cleaning out the whole system as we speak, but it could take a while. How did the trail-making go?’

  ‘Slowly.’ Tilly sawed at the pastry, gave up and concentrated on the quiche’s filling. It was surprisingly tasty. ‘The vegetation on that hill could out-stubborn a mule. A really, really pig-headed one. My arms will never recover.’

  ‘Course they will.’ Luke shovelled in a mouthful of quiche, case and all, and chewed. ‘Right then, Sophie, I think I oughta head out to the cave and catch a couple of those bats. It’ll save a heap of time if Leary can take live specimens back with him. You know how these things go. They never allow enough time for the trip, which means they want to leave almost before they get here.’

  ‘It’s an idea,’ Sophie agreed. ‘Just how did you plan on catching them though?’

  ‘Same as last time. That was probably pure luck, but you never know.’ He laid his fork down. ‘What about that birding net we found that time? That’d work. Any idea where it’s got to?’

  Sophie shook her head. ‘That’s history. Matt got rid of it last year, along with the old trawling net. Said he was sick of falling over them. I suppose they were in his workshop and it wasn’t as if we were ever going to find the owners of them to lay charges against.’

  ‘Pity,’ Luke said. ‘Never pays to chuck stuff out. That man’s just too damn tidy for his own good. Well, for mine, anyway. Back to plan A then – it’ll have to be the hat. We’ll need to find a box to put the critters in. You up for it, Tilly?’

  ‘Yes, of course. And I have a shoebox, one that opens at the end. That should do.’

  ‘Great.’ Luke concentrated again on his food. ‘Soon as we’ve finished, we’ll head off then.’

  Driving out half an hour later with the shoebox on her lap, Tilly wondered uneasily whether Matt’s reported mood was due to discovering his cache of money missing. Never given to small talk, he seldom interacted with the campers, so Sophie’s supposition about the river seemed a little unlikely. But would he return tamely to work if he had realised it was gone? On the other hand, what else could he do? No man in his right senses would risk entering the river to investigate. He might, she supposed, grapple for it with a hook on a pole. Perhaps he was doing that now, but the Nutt was a strong force and you couldn’t reasonably expect that anything landing in its muddy depths wouldn’t, sooner or later, be swept away.

  Shelving the thought, she fell to remembering last night and the pleasure she had found in Connor’s arms as her body had awakened to his lovemaking. From that she passed easily to wondering how he was getting on now, planted somewhere in the scrub by the secret road in the (probably) vain hope that a vehicle would pass by. His job seemed to consist of waiting, which, she thought, must be incredibly boring.

  ‘You seem pretty happy about something, grinning away like a Cheshire cat.’ Luke’s voice broke the silence. ‘Am I to suppose it’s your hunky botanist?’

  ‘What?’ Tilly said blankly, then as her brain assimilated his words, ‘Suppose what you like, my friend. Maybe I’m just amused at the idea of you preparing insect dinners. Have you thought how we’re supposed to feed these critters we may or may not catch? Didn’t I read somewhere that they need to eat every night?’

  Luke frowned. ‘It would be a problem if we were keeping them. Hopefully Leary will turn up early enough to do the business tonight. I can release them then, so it shouldn’t be a worry.’

  ‘You can’t just let them go, can you? Binboona’s miles away. Won’t they get lost?’

  ‘I’d take them back, of course.’ He slapped the steering wheel. ‘Yeah, that’d work. Leary could come with me and see the place for himself. He’d probably want to if they are unique, because he’d write it up, and the WPA would likely want his recommendations about the habitat. A brand new species would need protection and they’ll certainly be listed as endangered, unless someone finds another colony or two.’

  ‘That’s not very likely, is it?’ Tilly grabbed the crash bar as the vehicle lurched into a hole, hitting with a thud that rang in her bones. ‘I wish Matt’d get out here with the grader!’ she said crossly. ‘Why hasn’t Sophie got him onto it?’

  ‘No point till the actual work starts. Costs come first, last and always – you know that. The rains’ll be here, I expect, by the time the WPA have organised it all – the blueprints, the material, the workforce – so it’s good ec
onomy to leave the grading until next season.’

  ‘I suppose.’ The answer came grudgingly as she rubbed the elbow she’d banged against the door. The cliff face loomed ahead, and now she could see the dark green patch of vegetation outlining the area of the springs.

  ‘I wonder what your mum’s doing?’ Luke said apropos of nothing. ‘I think of her whenever I see that.’ He nodded at the sandstone cliff. ‘She loved it, didn’t she? I’ve never known anyone to respond that way to a place. Peace just sort of settled on her, like a flower opening.’

  Tilly was touched. ‘Why, Luke, that’s quite poetic. But yes, you’re right. I think the expense of the trip was worth it, just for that one day.’

  ‘And her cooking.’

  ‘Of course,’ she agreed dryly. ‘By the way, do you know what Jane’s like in the kitchen?’

  ‘No, well, she shares accommodation. Student meals, I guess – noodles and take-aways, cup-of-soup, chips – that’s what I lived on at uni. When we’re married maybe you could give her some tips?’

  Tilly grinned derisively. ‘Huh! Hasn’t helped you much. By the way,’ she said, for they were now passing by the overhang where the paintings were, ‘what’s the go with the artwork? I forgot to ask before.’

  ‘Graeme’s organising that. The old fence will go – it’ll be railed off and have a boardwalk for protection, and he’s going to see if there’s an elder from the area he can contact. Maybe there’d be somebody willing to guide the tourists, tell ’em the stories behind the paintings.’

  ‘Looks like next year will be an interesting one, especially if your bats turn out to be a real find. Maybe you could specialise, Luke? Become a well-known chiro-whatever – bat fancier. Write books, be on TV talkshows, earn big bucks.’

  ‘I like the job I’ve got,’ he said mildly. ‘Professor Leary might get himself interviewed, but I can’t see that— Hang about!’ He was slowing for the series of gutters just before the cave, and now Tilly saw it too, the back end of a closed, long-wheelbased Land Rover pulled off to one side in the scrub. ‘Who’s that? They must be in the cave. What the hell is going on here?’ Luke stamped on the brakes, switched off and sprang wrathfully from the vehicle even as Tilly was stuck wrestling with her seatbelt that had jammed shut.