by Di Morrissey
Evan raised an eyebrow. ‘Really? Well, I suppose that’s big business for you. Personally, I think that the fact he gave up a year of his life to work in Indonesia for a pittance would indicate a good heart. And a few years ago he gave me a very generous donation for my overseas work, and I think he said he’s done the same for Mark.’
‘I see,’ said Chris thoughtfully. ‘There was something else I wanted to ask you, Evan. When I wrote the magazine article, it wasn’t very long, so I didn’t really bother looking for Norma, as I felt I had enough information without her. Now that I’m expanding the article into a book, I really want to find her. Do you know what became of her? None of the others do.’
‘No, I don’t either, but I think you’re right to talk with her if you can find her. She had quite a different temperament from your mother. Very straightforward to the point of bluntness about what she thought.’
Chris laughed. ‘That’s what everyone tells me. I hope I can find her, she sounds like a valuable resource. By the way, you may not know this, but Jimmy’s brother’s Thomas Fairfax Anderson. You lot were certainly moving in exalted circles, even if you didn’t know it.’
‘Really? I had no idea. So Jimmy’s brother’s one of the top financial bods in the US. I’m amazed. Puts me in my place,’ said Evan, clearly impressed.
‘I think your place is pretty important, too,’ Chris replied.
They talked a while longer until Evan’s phone rang.
The doctor answered it and after listening for a moment said, ‘I’ll be there shortly.’
Chris gathered up his notes. ‘Thank you for giving me your time. I’m very grateful for these extra insights, and it’s been an honour to meet you.’
Evan shook Chris’s hand. ‘Any time, Chris. If I can be of more help, just shout. And do give my warm regards to Susan. Tell her to make sure she’s at the next reunion, won’t you?’
When Chris arrived at Tullamarine Airport, he called his mother to let her know that the plane was on time and he’d be home in a couple of hours.
‘You have had the nicest men in your life. Evan was absolutely lovely. He was so warm and told me a lot about himself, and he said he’s willing to let me see his own notes and for me to speak to whomever I like about his career. He’s happy to be an open book, just like Mark and David.’
‘Pity about Alan,’ laughed Susan. ‘Maybe he’ll come around. Did Evan know anything about Norma?’
‘No, but like everyone else he thinks she would not have given up midwifery.’
‘And what about Carla and her friend, did you see them?’
‘Yes, that was interesting, but very inconclusive. Carla has a conspiracy theory about the council rezoning land to enable the Victorian development to go ahead, but her friend Greg thinks that his fellow councillors were just dazzled by International Industries and so gave the company everything it wanted.’
‘I don’t think Alan would do anything illegal. Big companies can’t expose themselves by breaking the law. Wouldn’t be worth their while,’ said Susan.
‘Oh, Mum, I think that’s pretty naïve. Big business has power and influence and they will use it to further their profits. Some of them are prepared to break the law to get what they want. I’m not saying that Alan is behaving in this way, but I might just have a look at some more of his developments. Is Megs there?’
‘Not home yet. Netball practice.’
‘Give her my love. I’ll see her soon.’
*
Chris was standing in the bookshop at the airport when his phone rang. He was surprised to hear Alex’s voice.
‘Mate, bad news. It’s Frenchy, he’s had a bit of an accident in the van down on the river flats. Ran into a ditch on the side of one of those gravel roads. Just as well he wasn’t on the plateau road, otherwise it could have been more serious.’
‘That’s awful. How bad is he?’
‘Pretty bruised and he’s got a couple of cracked ribs. They had to take him to Coffs for x-rays, but I gather there’s nothing too serious. He was lucky, by all accounts. Karen is with him at the hospital, and we have the kids at our place. Police have had a quick look at the van. Said it was unroadworthy.’
Chris was aghast. ‘That’s bullshit! Frenchy treats his vans almost better than he treats his kids. They’re his livelihood, so they’re always in tip-top condition.’ Chris lowered his voice. ‘Listen, I’m in Melbourne, about to board my flight home. I’ll be home in a couple of hours, so if I can do anything tonight, just let me know.’
‘He’ll be fine. I just thought you’d want to know.’
‘Yes. Thanks, Alex.’
Chris hung up, feeling quite shaken and even guilty. He should have been driving that van, but when he’d taken the day off to fly down to Melbourne Shaun had taken over his deliveries. He was puzzled about the van, too. He knew that there would be nothing wrong with it, no matter what the police said. Shaun must have been travelling too fast along the gravelled surface of the road and skidded on a bend. Easy enough to do. He’d go and see the police tomorrow after he’d visited Shaun and try to find out exactly what had happened.
Chris strolled down Neverend’s leafy main street just as the café, coffee shop and patisserie were all opening up. He ordered a croissant and an espresso and sat in the crisp morning air with his newspaper as the sun began to filter through the camphor laurel tree that sheltered the table. Neverend might not be as trendy as Melbourne, but as Chris sipped his coffee and read the paper while the sun warmed his back, he felt happy to be there. He exchanged greetings with other locals he knew who were also enjoying this morning ritual, then he rang Shaun.
‘Still a bit bruised and battered, mate, but glad to be home. Should be back at work by next week, right as rain. Thanks for ringing,’ said Shaun, ebullient as ever.
After he’d finished his coffee, Chris headed to the nearby police station to ask about Shaun’s van. The station was housed in its original building constructed more than a century ago. Chris went round to the side door and stepped into the foyer.
‘Morning, Chris.’ The local police sergeant Pete Pollard greeted him from behind the station’s front counter. ‘You heard about the van?’
Pete was a burly local lad who had returned to Neverend after working for several years in the police force in other parts of the state. Chris had known him since schooldays and along with the rest of the community thought of the police officer as a thoroughly decent man.
‘Hi, Pete. Yes, do you know what happened?’ asked Chris.
Pete leaned across the front counter, twiddling a pen between his thick fingers. ‘Pretty straightforward. Whoever changed the tyres on that van did a poor job. Two of the wheels had loose nuts. No wonder the wheel almost came off. First rule when you change a tyre is to tighten the bolts.’
‘Well, of course, Pete, we’re not idiots! There’s no way Frenchy would have let that happen.’ Chris furiously tried to remember who had last changed the tyres. ‘That van went in for new tyres weeks back and I’ve been driving it ever since. Surely I would have noticed if the wheels had started shaking or wobbling ages before this happened?’
‘Possibly,’ said Pete, shrugging. ‘But all I can say is that those nuts were loose when the accident occurred and Shaun was damn lucky he wasn’t driving the van down the plateau road. Then the accident could have been fatal.’
Chris shivered. He couldn’t shake the guilt he felt knowing he should have been driving the van.
‘So what happens now? Can we drive it when the repairs have been made?’
Pete squinted at him. ‘You’re sure that neither you nor anyone who works for Shaun would have tampered with those wheels, Chris?’
‘I can’t speak for everyone, Pete, but I certainly didn’t touch them and I doubt anyone else would have. There was no reason for it at all.’
‘Then maybe the nuts weren’t replaced properly all those weeks ago and just took a long time to work loose.’
Chris nodded slowly i
n agreement. It wasn’t very likely, but there seemed to be no other explanation.
The vehicle was in one of the local repair shops and so Chris farewelled Pete and walked over to see the damage.
‘Pretty lucky, your boss. Not too much harm done, either to the van or to Frenchy, I hear,’ said the mechanic. ‘Bit of work needed on the driver’s side where he careened into bushes and boulders at the edge of the road, but it shouldn’t take long. I’ll give you a ring when it’s right to drive. Insurance will cover most of the costs.’
‘Thanks,’ said Chris, folding his arms. Another wave of guilt swept over him. It should have been him behind the wheel. He’d talk to Shaun about hiring another van while this one was being repaired so that he could start back on the run immediately. He might have to do a couple of extra shifts to cover for Shaun’s absence, but that wouldn’t be a problem. It would make him feel better to do some extra shifts for Shaun. Chris stepped out of the shadows of the mechanic’s workshop and back into the sun.
*
Life quickly settled back into its routine. In his spare time between driving the courier van and writing a weekly column for the Coastal Star, Chris sorted through notes and printouts, shuffling the pages of the men’s lives like a deck of cards, trying to put together a coherent picture. Although there were still plenty of gaps, he saw that he had an interesting composite of three of the men, David, Evan and Mark. Unfortunately, there were a lot of blanks around Alan’s story and Chris wondered how he was ever going to fill them.
Nevertheless he enjoyed researching material he wouldn’t normally include in a journalistic article. The broad canvas of a book gave him the freedom to delve a lot deeper. He also found that his writing style was changing from succinct journalese to a more reflective and questioning prose.
Chris had begun to look at the men’s families to see if their parents had also been high achievers. He already knew that Mark had come from a wealthy background and that Evan had come from a family of doctors. David’s family had humbler origins, although it was clear that his parents had valued education very highly for, like David, all of his siblings had acquired university degrees in an era when tertiary education was not common. When he dug a bit deeper into Alan’s background he learned that Alan’s father had been quite entrepreneurial, but it appeared that he had been a risk taker. The business he’d built up in the 1950s and ’60s had done well, but he had gone into a venture in the early 1970s that had failed, bankrupting him. Alan had initially worked with his father, but after the bankruptcy he’d gone his own way, starting up his own construction company, which had done very well.
The more Chris looked at other people’s lives, the more he questioned his own. Sitting in the office one afternoon, the sun fading over the horizon, he pondered the influence he was having on Megan’s upbringing. What ethics, compassion and thoughtfulness was he encouraging in his daughter? Was he adequately supporting her ambitions and giving her confidence in her undertakings? What was the example he was setting for her?
As if on cue, Megan poked her head around his office door, breaking his train of thought.
‘Hi, Dad. I’ve brought Toby home from school to help with homework.’
Chris smiled to see her face. ‘That’s nice. Bunny’s shopping in Coffs, so get yourselves a smoothie or something else vaguely healthy.’
Later, when Chris headed for the kitchen to make himself a coffee, he heard the teenagers’ voices on the verandah and went out to say hello. The pair had their heads bent over a book, papers and notes spread across the low table in front of them.
‘Hi. What’s the subject under debate?’
‘Hi, Dad. You know Toby. He understands algebra and is trying to teach me.’
‘I’m glad you can do that, Toby. Algebra’s not one of my strong suits.’ Chris liked Toby, who was a member of Megan’s jazz group. The boy was the same height, maybe a little taller than Megan, but he had a slim build, pale skin and a thick crop of dark curls. He wore heavy-framed glasses that gave him a studious appearance, but his brown eyes were large and full of friendly warmth.
‘Actually, I find that if you just become familiar with all the rules and maths jargon, suddenly it clicks,’ said Toby.
‘That’s a good way of explaining it. I guess I didn’t persevere long enough to become fluent in maths speak. Did you two get something to eat or drink?’
‘We’re fine, thanks, Dad.’
‘My coffee is probably ready. See you later. Nice to see you again, Toby.’
‘You too, Mr Baxter.’
After dinner that evening, Susan and Megan cleaned up the kitchen by themselves so that Chris could get more work done on the book. Then they watched a TV programme together before retreating to their respective bedrooms.
‘How’s it coming, Dad?’ asked Megan as she passed the study.
Chris stretched his arms above his head. ‘Slowly. But I’m feeling good about it. I still need to find a lot more info, but I can see a bigger picture emerging.’
‘Great. Glad it’s happening. See you in the morning.’
‘Thanks for your encouragement, sweetie.’ Chris smiled at her. ‘And good night to you, too.’
Chris worked for another hour or so until he came to a point which he felt was a good stopping place, so after saving what he’d written, he turned off the computer. In the kitchen he poured himself a glass of water and padded through the house onto the darkened front verandah. He took a deep breath and inhaled the cool and fragrant night air while he watched the clouds drifting across the moon as it rose behind the hills. This was a ritual he performed almost every night, but tonight, while the smells and soft sounds were familiar, there was something that did not quite fit into this normal pattern. Chris peered into the gloom and in the pale light he was just able to make out the silhouette of a car parked on the grass verge diagonally opposite his mother’s house. During the day, tourists often pulled up on this verge to admire the spectacular views across the valley, but at night, not only was there nothing to see, but stopping there was dangerous, for if a driver misjudged the edge of the narrow road in the dark there was a thirty-metre drop straight onto the road below.
What an odd thing to do, Chris thought to himself. He shrugged and was about to turn away when something suddenly occurred to him. Was the driver of that car watching the house? Feeling uneasy, he went inside and drew the curtains across the sitting room windows.
*
The following morning, Susan asked, ‘Who closed the curtains last night?’
‘I did,’ said Chris as he crunched on some toast. ‘There was a car over on the grass verge, just in front of the house. I thought someone could have been in it, watching us.’
Susan rolled her eyes. ‘I think you have an overactive imagination. This is Neverend, where we don’t lock our houses or cars, not Sydney or Washington DC. Get a grip,’ his mother teased.
‘It just seemed odd,’ he said defensively.
When Chris opened his emails after work that day, he found a message in his inbox from the helpful Sarah from the nurses’ association.
I think I might have found your missing midwife! Shall I email the info or do you want to call me? I’ll be here till five.
Chris picked up the phone immediately.
‘Hi, Chris, I’m glad you called. I think I’ve found who you’re after. It’s taken a bit of unravelling, because she was last registered under her married name.’
‘That’s brilliant work, Sarah. I can’t thank you enough. What’s her address?’
He lifted his pen ready to write it down.
‘Actually the most recent address we have for her is an overseas one. Looks like she was living in some place in Java, Indonesia, called Bogor.’ Sarah rattled off the full address and Chris noted it down.
‘What year was that, 1968?’
‘No, it was 1994.’
Chris raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘That’s interesting. What about now?’
‘Nothi
ng since then, I’m afraid,’ said Sarah. ‘We sent mail but it came back. No forwarding address.’
Chris felt deflated. ‘That’s that, I suppose. Dead end.’ He’d felt so close to finding Norma. ‘Thank you for your help, Sarah. Oh, by the way, what is Norma’s married name?’
‘We have her down as Norma Mary Marzuki.’
‘What an unusual surname,’ said Chris, writing it down. ‘Where do you think it originates?’
‘It could be Indonesian since our records show she was living there for a while. Sorry I can’t help you more.’
‘Sarah, you’ve been a champion, thanks again.’ Chris rang off and sat still for a minute, digesting this piece of information. He was quite intrigued. It seemed that Norma had returned to Java and married. Maybe she was still living there. This news was going to surprise Susan.
He glanced at his watch and saw that it was nearly 5 pm. Susan was playing golf, while Megan was at netball practice. He felt he had to tell someone about this interesting discovery, so he decided to call Georgia.
‘Are you in the middle of something? Heavy negotiations?’ he asked as soon as his agent answered her phone.
‘I wish. I spend such a lot of time just waiting for people to return my calls. What are you up to? It’s freezing down here today.’
Chris smiled as he imagined her lovely face and sparkling green eyes. ‘It’s a lovely sunny day here, although I have to admit that the nights are starting to get quite cold. We’ve had the fire roaring every evening this week. Listen, Georgia, I rang because I wanted to share some fascinating news about Norma. It seems that she went back to Bogor in Java and she may have married an Indonesian, although her new name is so unusual that her husband could be Russian or Hungarian for all I know. Unfortunately, I have no idea if she’s still living in Indonesia or has moved back to Australia, or gone somewhere else entirely.’
‘Heavens, that certainly is news, even if it is a bit nebulous. What does Susan say about it?’
‘She’s out, so no one knows yet except you. I just hope I can track Norma down.’
