by Di Morrissey
‘It’s me. Are you pleased?’ Cameron spoke quietly, unemotionally.
‘Of course! It’s such a shock. Unexpected, I s’pose. But I’m happy. The town is going nuts. How do you feel?’ she asked curiously.
‘I’m glad you’re pleased.’
‘Lydia must be beside herself. How’s Eddie?’
‘Very relieved, but worn out. This has taken a lot out of him. Lydia is being besieged. The media loves her. She’s such good talent. And genuine.’
‘Well, she does rather know what the media expects,’ said Jacqui, taking a sip of her coffee. ‘Tell me, is this really over or just postponed?’
‘They’ll have a go at moving it all offshore to a floating rig project, or to another area altogether. It doesn’t mean you’ve saved the environment. All it’s done for the moment is moved the problem. There’re other alternatives, like piping the gas to the Pilbara. It’s just taken Chamberlains and its partners years and a few billion to recognise it.’
‘So you’ll fight on, then?’
The bell above the door jangled and excited voices called out to her.
‘I don’t like fights. Just honest assessments and negotiation,’ said Cameron. ‘You have pretty influential friends – Lydia, Wally, Eddie . . . Listen, I’m bringing Eddie home. Everyone here is tied up and celebrating. I have a few things to do up there, loose ends. I’m meeting Eddie out at The Point tomorrow afternoon. I think they’re planning a little ceremony of thanks or something. I was hoping you’d come too.’
‘I’d love to,’ said Jacqui, smiling as she rang off.
There was lots of chatter, hugs and laughter as customers and friends clustered in the bookstore.
Sylvia suddenly appeared. ‘I just heard the news. Thought you might need a hand. I don’t mean bookselling, but coffee making?’
‘Oh, you are thoughtful! Maybe we should be popping some bubbles,’ said Jacqui.
As if on cue, Sylvia held up a bottle of Champagne. ‘This is for you. Your friend Cameron rang me and asked me if I could get it delivered to you. I said I’d bring it in person.’
‘Oh, how nice of him! Thanks, Sylvia. I might save it till later.’ She wished Lydia was here to share it. ‘I must call Wally. And Jean-Luc.’
When everyone had left, Jacqui checked her text messages and saw that one was from Lydia. Great news! Am tied up. Celebrate when I get back there. Cameron v helpful. Xxx. Jacqui smiled as she locked up the shop and headed to see Wally.
They hugged and shared a bottle of beer.
‘It hasn’t quite sunk in,’ sighed Jacqui.
‘You can’t ever give in until it’s all over Red Rover, eh?’ said Wally. ‘Everybody, especially that mob out at The Point, has done a wonderful job. It’s going to take years for people to realise how important today is, y’know that?’
‘You think so? I mean, everyone is just pleased we’ve been given a reprieve.’
‘More than that,’ said Wally. ‘People don’t yet realise how significant this fight has been. That it set a benchmark, proved the strength of individuals, a small town, and far-sighted visionaries, wise elders and leaders. A mob prepared to stand their ground and argue, lobby, protest their right to fight greed, vested interests, governments and big business to protect our land and seas, the environment, our town, our way of life. People will talk about how everyone came together . . . and won. And will do so again if need be. To show what’s important – family, culture, country, community.’ The old man paused after this speech. ‘I won’t be around, but my kids and grandkids will be, and I hope they’ll stand up for country ’cause of all this.’
Jacqui gazed at him with affection. ‘Let’s drink to that, Wally.’ They clinked glasses and she leaned over and squeezed his hand. He’d said it all.
It was later that Jacqui learned there were seemingly only a few wild parties to celebrate the news. Most people held family gatherings with singsongs. Tears were shed. Friends hugged. Everyone was worn down by the months of angst. It was time to unwind and rest.
*
The following afternoon Cameron and Eddie arrived back in Broome and Jacqui collected Cameron from his B&B. They drove up the coast towards The Point together.
‘Welcome back. How is Eddie?’
‘Worn out. Worn down. Said home would heal him. He’s an extraordinary man. A very powerful presence all along. No haranguing, no vitriol, no anger. Yet everyone knew how he felt. There was such a deep sadness to his strength. He spoke from the heart. It was difficult to argue or disagree with him.’
Jacqui nodded. ‘And Lydia too, I imagine. She suddenly seems to have moved into another league.’ Jacqui felt a momentary pang.
As they headed out of town, Cameron pointed to the building Chamberlains had erected as their base. ‘Look.’
‘Oh. Gosh . . .’ The crane Peggy had climbed was gone, and the building looked deserted.
‘Moving on,’ commented Cameron.
As she turned onto the coast road Jacqui remarked, ‘I feel I know every bit of this road now. All those trips up and down to the blockade mob. What a mammoth undertaking that was. A lot of them never left the camp at all.’
‘I’ve never actually been to the shoreline at The Point. I flew over it once in a chopper. Stunning scenery.’
‘Jean-Luc and I camped there once with Lydia and her family, the uncles and aunties, Eddie’s family . . . It was very special,’ said Jacqui. ‘It’s where Jean-Luc first met Peggy. It’s nice they seem to keep in touch. I called him last night and he’s so thrilled about this result. He can’t wait to come back to see us,’ said Jacqui. ‘It’s like he lives in two different worlds.’
‘Who knows. One day Jean-Luc’s father could take a trip out here to see what, where and why his son has become so attached. When some water has passed under the bridge, of course. He may want to see Australia through his son’s eyes, to understand why he’s pulled here,’ said Cameron gently. ‘It will be easier for him to understand, then.’
Jacqui glanced at him. ‘I would never have thought of that. I hope you’re right.’ The idea gave her a great sense of peace.
To Jacqui’s surprise the site of the blockade was deserted. A few remnant flags fluttered and the media tent was still there, though the equipment had gone and a lot of stacked boxes of possessions and paraphernalia awaited removal.
They walked around, noting the ring of blackened stones that had been the main campfire, the ash from the fires smothered in red dust.
‘Seems so desolate now. It was such a hive of activity, action, passion . . . but at least we can get down to the beach,’ said Jacqui.
When she drove onto the dunes and looked down at the sand, the sea was burnished gold in the late afternoon sun. Smoke rose from a small campfire as several people sat nearby.
Cameron got out and looked at the scene. ‘Magical,’ he said softly. ‘It really is a special place, isn’t it.’
A hand lifted and waved to them.
‘C’mon!’ Jacqui hurried across the sand, recognising Lydia.
They hugged. Lydia looked tired. ‘Ain’t life just full of surprises, eh?’ She gave a weary smile.
‘I’m so proud of you,’ said Jacqui.
‘Everybody did their thing. Including Cameron,’ she said quietly, as Cameron shook hands with Arthur and Phillip Knowles, and was introduced to Auntie Vi.
They settled themselves by the fire. ‘So what’s next?’ Jacqui asked Lydia.
‘I have a special assignment. Well, more of a challenge,’ she said with a smile.
‘What’s that?’
‘World heritage cultural landscape listing, so the Kimberley is protected on cultural grounds as well as for being one of the most intact wildernesses on the planet. I’m working with a group to achieve this legally. And while I’m at it I’ll plan a campaign to run as a local representative. I�
��m working with a group to achieve this legally. And while I’m at it I’ll plan a campaign to run as a local representative.’
‘Oh, wow. That is amazing. I know if anyone can do it, you will. You’re an inspiration, Lyd, really you are.’
‘So what’s happening out here now?’ said Cameron, gazing along the stretch of beach.
‘We just wanted to do a little ceremony. Arthur and Eddie and Vi call it “Calming the snake”. Saying thanks.’
‘Where is Eddie?’ asked Cameron.
Lydia frowned. ‘Don’t know. He was coming out here with his family. But you saw him yesterday – he’s exhausted. That trip and the whole campaign took a lot out of him. Not just physically, but emotionally. I’m going to see if anyone knows where he is.’ Lydia turned back to the group.
‘Do you want to go for a walk while we wait for Eddie?’ Jacqui asked Cameron. ‘There’re dinosaur footprints around the rocks there.’
As they wandered down the beach, Jacqui asked him, ‘So what next for Cameron North Enterprises?’
‘Well, there’s more to celebrate than just the Chamberlains news. I have a new client.’
‘Oh. Who’s that then?’
‘The Kana Foundation. It’s fairly new; Eddie is its patron. It’s an Aboriginal environmental and legal corporation who are representing indigenous interests to the government. They take on occasional whitefella advisers. Lucky me.’
‘Did Eddie suggest this?’ asked Jacqui. ‘Does Lydia know?’
‘You bet, they spoke up for me. Very helpful. So I’ll have an office in Perth. And a reason to keep coming up here. I’m also involved as legal representative for the new Art of the Kimberley group. It’s an idea Palmer and Phillip Knowles came up with – to promote and protect all the art out here, as well as try to find and identify a lot more. It’s under the auspices of the university and they got a grant from . . . guess who? Daryl Johnson.’ He leaned towards her, grinning. ‘See, I can be very persuasive.’
Jacqui laughed. ‘Good for you. I suppose Lydia knows all this? Am I the last to hear the news?’
‘I made her promise to let me tell you.’ He reached over and gave Jacqui a quick kiss on the cheek. Jacqui looked at him in surprise, seeing a very different Cameron, but he just laughed. ‘So where are these footprints?’
Later, as they walked back, they saw a group gathered at the water’s edge.
‘Looks like Eddie’s mob is here,’ said Jacqui. She smiled at Cameron. They’d found themselves talking easily, with the familiarity of old friends with a linked background.
‘I can’t see Eddie, can you?’ asked Cameron, squinting into the afternoon sun.
‘He might have stayed at home.’
‘No. I felt this was going to be important to him . . .’ Suddenly Cameron broke into a sprint.
Jacqui watched him reach the group and saw Lydia turn and embrace him, and then she knew.
Slowly Jacqui approached the group clustered together. Cameron broke away and came to her, unable to speak, his face stricken. He held out his arms and she flung herself against his chest, crying, shoulders heaving. Lydia joined them, her face streaked with tears.
‘Eddie died a few hours ago. Heart.’ Her face twisted. ‘He wanted to come home. Apparently he was advised he should go to the hospital in Perth.’
Cameron held Jacqui, smoothing her hair as she wept. ‘Maybe he knew. He didn’t want to pass away far from all he loved.’
‘He might still be alive if it wasn’t for all this,’ said Lydia. ‘This is a very, very high price to pay.’
The group turned and walked slowly back to the dying embers of the fire. The last of the sun glowed against the jagged red cliffs. Holding hands, they stood in a silent circle for a few moments.
Jacqui leaned against Cameron’s solid, comforting body. He dropped her hand and encircled her with his arms, pulling her into him as Lydia spoke quietly.
‘His was a voice that was heard across the Kimberley. And will be for generations to come. This is just the beginning.’
*
‘I feel like I could sleep for two years,’ said Cameron when he called in to see Jacqui as she closed the bookstore on Sunday. ‘What with the huge funeral for Eddie and the family meetings.’
‘They’re taking him out to his country,’ said Jacqui.
‘Yes. While they’re gone I have to see to a few more things for the Art of the Kimberley and the Kana Foundation, which is more important than ever now. Plus move some stuff over from Sydney. And, like I said, I still have unfinished business here.’
‘Like what?’
‘You.’
‘What?’ She smiled, looking up at him. ‘Don’t be silly. What does that mean?’
‘I want to court you.’
She started to laugh. Then, seeing his expression, she stopped; it was a mixture of slightly amused trepidation with an edge of little-boy pleading.
‘Court me? How quaint. Cameron, I . . .’ She didn’t know what to say. Jacqui was suddenly overcome with bemusement at this old-fashioned term, combined with Cameron’s earnest look. Gone was the hard sophistication and the businessman’s demeanour. ‘Why?’ she asked dumbly, genuinely bewildered. ‘We’ve come too far for that, haven’t we? All these years . . .’
‘I decided when I was ten that I wanted to marry you,’ he said.
‘You were never the marrying kind,’ exclaimed Jacqui.
‘You stood up for me once. Remember when Jackson Donovan hit a ball through Mr Andrews’ house and blamed me? You went over and told Mr Andrews it wasn’t me. You took my word for it, straight away.’
‘Did I? I’d forgotten that.’ Jacqui burst out laughing. ‘You never said anything. We were never close friends.’
‘I was waiting. Then you ran away with that Frenchman. I was pretty mad. Now, where do you keep your drinking glasses?’ He took his bag from his shoulder and pulled out a bottle of chilled Champagne, the bottle dewy with moisture, and a posy of rosebuds – a luxury in Broome.
‘This is crazy. You’re nuts. For goodness sake. We have totally different . . . lives.’ She had been going to say ‘interests’, but she knew that now he understood what they’d been fighting for and why.
He gave a big smile. ‘That’s okay. I’m going to be around here quite a lot. You’ll get used to me.’ He pulled the cork from the bottle.
Jacqui stared at him, suddenly seeing the boy in him she’d known all those years ago. How he’d teased her, how she’d comforted him, how he’d irritated her, how her parents had had a soft spot for him, how they’d both grown through the years, making mistakes, following different paths.
And here they were suddenly together, by plan or design, but on the same path. Side by side. And it seemed inevitable.
‘Oh, you still have a lot of courting to do,’ she said mischievously.
He nodded eagerly. And they both laughed, together.
About Di Morrissey
With sales of over two million copies, Di Morrissey is one of the most successful and prolific authors Australia has ever produced. She trained as a journalist, working in newspapers, magazines, television, film, theatre and advertising around the world. Her fascination with different countries, their landscape, their cultural, political and environmental issues, has been the catalyst for her novels which are all inspired by a particular landscape.
Di has been a tireless and passionate advocate and activist for many causes from being Patron of the Southern Cross University Whale Research Centre, opposing large scale development and commercial food chains into Byron Bay NSW, to fighting to save the Kimberley from gas and mining intrusion into sacred lands, and, as Patron of the Manning Alliance, stopping massive and unnecessary power lines intruding into the Manning Valley NSW.
Di has also established The Golden Land Education Foundation (see details on her website) to
raise funds to help build and develop Pyin Nya Yeik Mon Monastic Primary School, Sagaing in Myanmar.
Di has two children, Dr Gabrielle Morrissey Hansen and Dr Nicolas Morrissey, and three grandchildren who reside in the USA. Di lives with her partner, Boris Janjic, in the Manning Valley, NSW.
Di’s titles include: Heart of the Dreaming, The Last Rose of Summer, Follow the Morning Star, The Last Mile Home, Tears of the Moon, When the Singing Stops, The Songmaster, Scatter the Stars, Blaze, The Bay, Kimberley Sun, Barra Creek, The Reef, The Valley, Monsoon, The Islands, The Silent Country, The Plantation, The Opal Desert, The Golden Land, The Winter Sea, The Road Back, Rain Music and A Distant Journey.
Also by Di Morrissey
in order of publication
Heart of the Dreaming
The Last Rose of Summer
Follow the Morning Star
The Last Mile Home
Tears of the Moon
When the Singing Stops
The Songmaster
Scatter the Stars
Blaze
The Bay
Kimberley Sun
Barra Creek
The Reef
The Valley
Monsoon
The Islands
The Silent Country
The Plantation
The Opal Desert
The Golden Land
The Winter Sea
The Road Back
Rain Music
A Distant Journey
This is a work of fiction. Characters, institutions and organisations mentioned in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously without any intent to describe actual conduct.
First published 2017 in Macmillan by Pan Macmillan Australia Pty Ltd
1 Market Street, Sydney, New South Wales, Australia, 2000
