The Memory Tree

by Jennifer Scoullar

  ‘No thanks,’ said Matt. ‘Can you come out here?’

  A few minutes later Penny slipped out through the side gate and Matt drove them a hundred metres down the road.

  ‘Sarah turned up this morning,’ he said. ‘I bumped into her in Main Street. Doris saw me, so I thought I’d better get to you first.’

  Penny held up her right hand. ‘I solemnly swear I won’t listen to gossip.’

  ‘Good,’ said Matt. ‘Because I’m taking Sarah to lunch today, and somebody’s bound to tell you. I’ve asked Jake to fill in for me this afternoon. It’s time to tell her where I stand.’

  ‘And where is that?’ asked Penny.

  ‘With you, of course, Pen. Always with you.’ He moved closer to her, close enough to hear her breathe. ‘You backing my decision about Theo, understanding why I can’t go public? It means everything.’

  ‘What was I supposed to do?’ said Penny with a smile. ‘You and your dad ganged up on me.’

  The thread of separateness, of strangeness that had run between them was unravelling. A surge of hope coursed through him, desire too, and he knew there was no answer for him anywhere in the world, but her.

  Matt pulled Penny close, her body soft and yielding. She looked lovelier than he’d ever seen her, radiant, with shining hair fanning her shoulders and her complexion glowing with happiness.

  They kissed, slow and tender, the seal on an unspoken promise. ‘Move back in today, Pen,’ he said, hoarsely. ‘Right now.’

  Concern clouded her face. ‘I need to make sure my uncle is okay first.’

  Matt groaned inwardly. Ray was sure to do everything possible to undermine a reconciliation.

  Penny stroked his cheek. ‘Don’t worry. I can handle him.’ She opened his palm and stroked his lifeline. ‘You have something to tell Sarah, and I have something to tell you.’

  ‘Lay it on me.’

  ‘Later. Tonight.’

  ‘Is it something you’ve done?’

  ‘Kind of.’

  ‘Is it a good thing or a bad thing?’ Her smile reassured him. ‘Even if it is a bad thing, I forgive you.’

  She laughed. 'What, before you even know what it is?’

  ‘I’ll forgive anything if you’ll just come home. And before you say it, I know there’s plenty you need to forgive me for too.’

  ‘That’s a lot of forgiveness. I hope we have enough to go round.’ Penny slid from her seat, laughing, and walked back to the house.

  Matt watched her go, his heart bursting with hope and happiness.

  Chapter 35

  Sarah looked particularly fetching. Skin-tight jeans, soft cotton shirt clinging in all the right places, but Matt was immune to her charms. For lunch he’d picked out a modern, functional bistro several towns away. A tourist stopover, all glass and stainless steel.

  ‘What a romantic little spot.’ Sarah touched Matt’s arm and moved closer.

  ‘What would you like to drink?’ He pushed back his chair.

  Sarah frowned, withdrawing her hand. She fixed him with hazel eyes, searching now, not smiling. Matt dodged her stare and headed for the bar saying he’d choose for them both. A scotch for him and a gin and tonic for her. No, a bottle of champagne to butter her up. No, mineral water for them both. In the end he bought two light beers. Sarah grimaced at the first sip.

  ‘We’ve finished the gene sequencing program,’ she said. ‘You’re the first one outside the department to know.’

  This was exciting news, and he was a complete bastard. What could he say to her?

  ‘The results bear out our early findings. Almost 30 percent of test animals from the Tuggerah region have the MHC2 genotype.’

  ‘That’s fantastic,’ said Matt.

  ‘Your breeding program must urgently take this into account. I wouldn’t arrange any more matings until the department analyses these results.’

  She was right. A population of local animals with built-in genetic defences shouldn’t be out-crossed to at-risk individuals. Isolation and protection of the Tuggerah was the obvious next step, which was fabulous news for both the devils and the forest. He should be expressing his profoundest gratitude to Sarah for what she’d done. Instead, he nodded and picked up the menu. ‘The trout looks good.’

  Sarah smiled a rather unpleasant smile. She took the menu from his hand. ‘Is this about Theo, the way you’re acting? You’ve made up your mind, haven’t you, and I’m not going to like it.’

  ‘Sarah, I’ve agonised over this, but I always come to the same conclusion. I’m not prepared to go public.’

  The battle lines were drawn. Sarah opened her mouth to speak, then seemed to think better of it. She sculled her beer and thrust the empty glass at Matt. ‘I’ll have another … and the trout will do.’

  ‘Would you rather wine?’

  She scowled. Strands of hair had slipped from her silver clip onto her face. ‘Just hurry up.’

  The lull before the storm, that’s what this was. The bartender served Matt way too fast.

  ‘Hear me out,’ she said, laying a hand on his arm when he returned with the drinks. She was calm, too calm. ‘Humans exterminated thylacines, that’s what we all thought. But now there’s Theo. It means we can fix our mistakes. It wasn’t the thylacine’s time, Matt. They have a right to this second chance.’

  ‘You can’t fix this, Sarah. You can’t take it back. Not the stupidity, not the brutality. I won’t give humans, who made the mess in the first place, the power to make another one. You want to talk about rights? What about the tigers’ right to a peaceful enjoyment of life.’

  Sarah’s mask of composure slipped a little. ‘Restoring Tasmania’s apex predator isn’t interference, Matt. It’s an act of redemption. An implicit acknowledgement that we’ll handle the species better this time around.’

  ‘It’s an experiment, and these experiments are always at the expense of the animals. Listen to your language. “Handle the species.” I have a better idea. Let’s not handle them at all.’

  ‘We’re morally bound to handle them.’ Sarah removed her hand from his arm, knocking over her beer. She barely seemed to notice. A dark stain spread over the tablecloth.

  ‘Why? To make us feel better?’ asked Matt.

  ‘To ensure their future. It’s our responsibility.’

  ‘These thylacines only survived because nobody handled them. Isn’t it ironic? So inept at handling our own population, yet we presume to manage theirs. The problem lies in the very idea that we know better than nature. We don’t.’

  Sarah went quiet, regrouped, and launched another assault. But there was nothing she could say, no possible angle she could find to change his mind. She wheedled, cajoled, threatened, teared up. Matt was implacable. He wanted to leave, but he was already a heel. Better not compound the crime.

  ‘Two trouts.’ The waitress put the plates down.

  Sarah left for the ladies room. Matt’s face was sweaty, he could taste it on his tongue. She’d try to force his hand if she could. But how? Who’d believe her crazy story about stealing frozen thylacines from freezers? She had no evidence, and Theo was safely stowed away at Fraser’s. Whatever Sarah did next, all he had to do was hold his nerve.

  Here she came, stalking back across the room. Matt held his breath, fighting the feeling that Sarah was somehow about to wrest back control of the game. She sat across from him with an ugly smirk, as his phone rang. It was Penny. He gave Sarah an apologetic smile and left the table.

  ‘Are you with Sarah?’ she asked. ‘Matt, be careful. Fraser and I examined Theo. There’s a piece of his ear missing.’

  Tension began its slow crawl up his spine. ‘Ring me in fifteen minutes, so I can get out of here.’ Matt snapped the phone shut. No wonder Sarah looked so smug; she was about to turn the tables. There was nothing else for it but to revert to his most tried and true strategy. Stall.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Matt when he returned to the table. He took a steadying breath and allowed his face no expressio
n at all. ‘Maybe you’re right.’ His words sounded thin and unconvincing.

  ‘Really?’ Sarah’s eyes locked onto his. She was surprised, certainly. Suspicious, probably. He watched for a sign that she’d perceived the falsehood, for any telltale shift in her shoulders or tilt of her head.

  ‘Like you said, it’s not really my call.’ Now Sarah just looked confused. Matt reached for her hand. ‘I suppose I’m a bit thrown by the enormity of what we’re about to do.’ He was making himself sick, but the only way to the other side was through and, anyway, it seemed to be working. Sarah’s expression softened, misgivings slipping from her face. She squeezed his hand. He tried a smile.

  ‘Of course you’re a bit spooked,’ said Sarah. ‘This is huge. For a while there, I thought you’d never come around.’

  Matt forced himself to laugh along with her, and it really was pretty funny. Digging such a big hole and then hurling himself into it.

  ‘Now, tell me everything. Where did you find your sample? Do you know about any others? You’ll need to come to Hobart with me so we can meet with Professor Chang on Monday morning. I can’t believe this is really happening, can you?’

  ‘No,’ said Matt. At least that was honest.

  ‘So …’ Sarah gave him a dazzling smile, ‘where did you find the specimen?’

  ‘His name is Theo,’ said Matt, wondering if under that soft cotton shirt she was wearing a wire. If her phone was on, recording their conversation. ‘I can trust you, can’t I?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Sarah. ‘I was worried that I couldn’t trust you. I even took out a little insurance, just in case. A tissue sample from Theo’s ear. It seems silly now.’

  Matt sipped his drink. The mouthful of beer went down the wrong way, and bile rose in his throat. Sarah asked him again where he’d found Theo. Oh well, might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb. ‘At a camp site in the Tarkine, about three hundred kilometres north-west of here.’ This wasn’t so hard after all. When she went public with her story, at least he’d have put her off the scent. His fanciful account became more and more elaborate, more and more detailed, each word leaping straight from brain to mouth. His mother said that if you tell the truth, you don’t need a good memory. He was going to need the memory of an elephant. Perhaps he should take notes?

  ‘What happened when you seized their rifles?’ asked Sarah.

  ‘The cowards took off down that track like the devil was after them. It was only afterwards, when I inspected the camp, that I found Theo. Their truck had no number plate, so unfortunately I’ve no way of identifying them.’

  ‘What sort of a person kills a thylacine and then hides it? You’d have to have absolutely no morals at all.’ Matt nodded, wishing it really had happened the way he said. It felt good to not feel responsible.

  ‘How many more are there, do you think?’

  ‘Can’t say,’ said Matt. ‘Didn’t see any tracks. Those blokes could have shot Theo anywhere.’

  ‘I didn’t notice the bullet wound,’ said Sarah. ‘Still, there wasn’t much time to examine Theo before you came racing after me.’

  Matt tried the trout. It sat next to a few wilted lettuce leaves, two cherry tomatoes and a mountain of soggy chips. The food stuck in his throat.

  Their waitress came over with two little pots on a tray. ‘Forgot your tartare sauce. You American?’ she asked, when Sarah thanked her. ‘Best get you ketchup then.’ She duly returned with a saucer of tomato sauce.

  ‘What am I supposed to do with this?’ laughed Sarah.

  Matt dipped a cold chip in the sauce and ate it. He dipped another and offered it to Sarah. She opened her mouth and he popped it inside, as if it was a chocolate-coated strawberry in a soap opera love scene. Sarah was smiling, temporarily neutralised.

  Matt’s phone rang. Finally. He pretended to be talking to Jake. ‘They need me at the park,’ he told her. ‘Sorry, we have to go.’

  On the way home, Sarah was full of plans that horrified him. ‘Be ready for a whirlwind of publicity. We’d better get you some media training.’

  What a relief to drop her off at Mrs Murphy’s. Matt escorted her through the gate, then propped at the door.

  ‘When will I see you?’ she asked. ‘I could come by Binburra this afternoon. I’m dying to examine Theo.’

  Matt counted to five before responding. ‘I’ll be flat out today.’

  But she wouldn’t be put off. ‘You don’t realise the significance of what we’re about to do, the international implications. I can see that now. Anyway, it’s Saturday and you can’t work all the time.’ She slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him. The blind at Margaret Murphy’s window lifted. ‘I’ve booked a room for us tonight in Nandena, at the Ashwood Inn.’

  Matt tried to look pleased. ‘Okay. I’ll be there.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘By eight?’

  Sarah shook her head and pouted. ‘Too late.’ She traced his lips with her little finger.

  ‘Six then,’ said Matt.

  ‘You’re your own boss, aren’t you? If you’re not there by five, I’ll come looking.’

  ‘Five it is.’

  Margaret leaned out of the kitchen window. ‘Lovely day.’

  ‘Perfect, Mrs Murphy,’ said Sarah. ‘Simply perfect.’

  Chapter 36

  Sarah waltzed a frowning Mrs Murphy once around the kitchen, then ran to her room and threw open the suitcase on the bed. It was hard to know what was more exciting – the thylacine news or the upcoming night with Matt. She’d wanted them both, so very much, for so very long, and at times it had seemed that she might have neither. She shouldn’t have doubted him.

  Sarah showered, then laid out clothes on the bed. She tried on the new lingerie and inspected herself in the mirror. It was hard to buy decent labels in Hobart. The purple set was pretty, but Matt was a no-fuss kind of man. Better stick with basic black. The frantic pace she’d set at the lab had left her little time for anything else, not even for eating. It showed in her skinny ribs and jutting collarbone, and she looked tired. She was tired. A spa would be good when she got there, to unwind a bit before Matt arrived. She checked her watch. Better hurry. She packed an overnight bag and headed to the car.

  ‘Don’t worry about breakfast for me, Mrs Murphy,’ she called on her way out. ‘I won’t be back tonight.’

  ‘Suit yourself, dear. Where are you off to?’

  But Sarah was already gone.

  An elegant elm-lined driveway led to a collection of sandstone buildings, all set in a formal English garden. What was it with Tasmania’s obsession with Britain?

  ‘Welcome to Ashwood Inn.’ The woman at reception spoke with a plum in her mouth. ‘Would you prefer the library suite or the loft?’

  ‘What’s the difference?’

  ‘The library is French provincial and includes a shared-table evening dining experience.’

  ‘We’re looking for privacy,’ said Sarah.

  ‘The loft then.’ She reached for a set of keys on the board behind her. ‘The original stable has been converted into a couple’s suite. The bathroom is on the ground floor next to the water garden. The bedroom is upstairs, beneath the overhanging willow tree. All the privacy in the world. What time is your young man arriving?’

  Sarah felt her face redden, as though she was sixteen again. ‘Around five.’

  ‘I’ll send over a bottle of bubbly when he gets here.’

  Sarah explored the loft, set the air-conditioning a little colder, then turned on the taps in the spa. What music? She knew nothing of Matt’s taste. A quick flip through the offerings. She’d try Sade again and hope for better luck than last time. The pretty casement window looked out onto a private courtyard with a little creek splashing through. The suite was quite charming. She slipped from her clothes and climbed into the half-full tub. Maybe a drink to relax.

  She dripped water all the way to the minibar, chose a bottle of sparkling wine and a cute little box of chocolates. She popped a stick
y caramel into her mouth and a sachet of lavender bath salts into the water. It was almost too hot to bear. She fired up the spa. The jets unravelled each tense muscle. The wine was delicious. It slipped down so easily. A wave of weariness hit her. Sarah closed her eyes. Very calm. Very drowsy. Dreaming of Matt …

  * * *

  Penny stood in her bedroom at Ray’s, dressed only in a bra and briefs, studying her baby bump in the mirror. She’d always had a plump belly, and in her park uniform the bulge showed as little more than a thicker middle, barely noticeable. But tonight she wanted to show it off. Penny pulled on a green cotton shift, cut straight enough to skim her waist, but with enough room to be comfortable. She slipped on her best sandals and turned to the mirror. Hmm, the bump wasn’t very obvious, but it would have to do.

  Uncle Ray’s house was a furnace in the afternoon. She fetched a glass of water from the jug in the fridge. The kitchen looked so much brighter now, with the corner cobwebs gone, and fresh curtains and flowers. Every inch of chrome and linoleum was polished to within an inch of its life. If only she could perform the same sort of makeover on her uncle.

  Ray was sitting on the back porch with his battered Akubra and his best friend Charlie. They were chain-smoking and drinking whisky and coke, more whisky than coke. They’d been laid off for weeks now. Ray waited every day until noon, seven days a week, for a phone call that never came. At lunchtime he sought Penny out, or phoned her at work, sounding just as surprised each time.

  ‘We’re not getting back on the job today, love. Not me or Charlie.’

  From what Penny knew, it was unlikely that they ever would. So each time, she made comforting noises that she didn’t believe. It wasn’t all bad news. If the mills stayed closed, she’d find him work with Ken Murphy, transporting dressed timber, on a proper wage, with proper hours.