The Curiosity Machine (34 page)

For a moment the only sounds were the mournful cries of seabirds that circled overhead, and the screams of anguish coming from Gerald's mother inside the cabin.

‘So, no more lavish parties?' Felicity said.

‘Nope,' Gerald answered.

‘No more jetting around the world whenever you want?' Sam asked.

‘No.'

‘No paparazzi chasing you down the street, or evil
geniuses trying to kill you?' Ruby asked.

Gerald puffed out a bewildered laugh. ‘I guess not.' He turned to face her. ‘So what do you think of that?'

Ruby did not hesitate. She threw her arms around Gerald's neck. ‘I think that's the best thing I've heard for a year.' Then she kissed him—full on the lips.

Nothing quite says goodbye like an airport terminal.

Gerald only just managed to hold it together when he gave Mrs Rutherford and Mr Fry a farewell hug. ‘Don't you be worrying about us, Master Gerald,' Mrs Rutherford said, her eyes red from tears. ‘Your great aunt looked after us in her will. We're well catered for. It's you I'm worried about.'

Gerald managed a smile. ‘We got by before all this craziness started,' he said. ‘I expect we'll manage again.'

‘But your mother…' Mrs Rutherford began.

Gerald glanced across to where Vi and Eddie sat in silent shock on a bench seat in the departure lounge. ‘She'll be all right,' he said. ‘Eventually. Maybe you can send us a care package of your sausage rolls to Sydney.'

Mrs Rutherford smiled and held Gerald's cheeks in her hands. ‘It has been my pleasure to be at your service, young man. Your great aunt would have been so proud of you. Make sure to write to me.'

Mr Fry peered down his nose at Gerald. ‘When I
worked for your family, I had to bite my tongue every hour of every day so I would not say exactly what I thought of you.'

Gerald snuffled a laugh. ‘Well, don't hold back,' he said. ‘Now's your chance.'

Mr Fry's face lightened. ‘For some reason, I cannot think of a single thing to say.' He dipped his head, and then helped Mrs Rutherford towards the gate for their flight back to London. Gerald watched them go. He would miss both of them terribly.

A voice crackled through the public address system, calling the final passengers for the British Airways flight to Heathrow.

Gerald walked over to where Felicity was standing with her parents, and wished them all a safe flight. Colonel Upham shook Gerald's hand firmly and thanked him for a ‘memorable experience'. Felicity held back as her parents started for the departure gate, and wrapped her hands around Gerald's arm.

‘I don't think your father likes me very much,' Gerald said.

Felicity grinned, and pecked him on the cheek. ‘I think you're right,' she said. ‘He can be a bit cringe-worthy.' She promised to write, hugged him, then waved goodbye and ran off to catch up with her parents.

Gerald turned to find Sam standing by his side. Sam grinned, then punched Gerald hard on the shoulder. ‘What did you do that for?' Gerald asked, rubbing at
his throbbing arm.

Sam shrugged. ‘It'll be a while before I get to do it again,' he said. ‘I figured I better make it a good one.' He nodded at Gerald. ‘See you soon, mate.'

‘Sure,' Gerald said, and he watched Sam walk off with his mum and dad.

That left Ruby.

Ruby stood by a window that looked out to the aeroplanes on the tarmac. The afternoon light bathed her in a bronze glow. Gerald swore she had a halo around her hair. He went to her and their fingers entwined.

For a while they just stared into each other's eyes.

‘So, you're going back to your old school in Sydney?' Ruby said, at last.

‘Yep. And I guess with no more Archer scholarship, you and Sam will be back to your old school in London?'

‘That's right,' Ruby said. ‘No more St Hilda's for me. Flicka will just have to run the place by herself.' She paused. ‘Everything is back the way it used to be.'

Gerald squeezed his fingers tighter. ‘Well, not everything.'

Ruby's cheeks flushed. ‘No. Not everything.'

‘Do you remember the day we met?' he asked. ‘At the British Museum?'

Ruby smiled. ‘Sam and I saved you from the thin man,' she said. ‘That seems so long ago. Dad has promised to take us all to Australia for Christmas. You can show us around Sydney. Let me cuddle a koala, and all that.'

‘Fantastic!' Gerald said. He did a quick calculation in his head. ‘That's only eight months away.' He took a deep breath. ‘Ruby—'

Ruby untangled her hand from Gerald's and placed a finger across his lips. ‘Shush,' she said. ‘Before you say something that will make me cry.' Then it was her turn to take in a breath. ‘I want you to understand something. It was never about the money. You are worth more to me than any amount of cash. But the money was always in the way. And now it's gone.'

A hollow pit opened up in Gerald's gut. ‘Yeah, and so am I. Gone back to Sydney. Just when—'

Ruby again rested her finger on Gerald's lips. ‘What did I say about shushing? Do you know the best part of being us?'

Gerald shook his head.

‘It's that we know each other so well,' Ruby said. ‘We've been through the most absurd adventures together, all around the world. And now, even though we'll be far apart, anytime I see something that I know you'd like—a movie or a book or Sam doing something colossally stupid—in my mind I can tell you all about it. And I'll know, I'll just know exactly how you'd respond. You're the best kind of friend: the one who makes me feel happy and warm and whole, even when you're not there.'

Ruby rose onto her toes, wrapped her arms around Gerald's neck and held him tight. Her lips brushed his ear, ‘I will miss you so much.'

She pushed herself away and dabbed a finger at the corner of her eye. Then she handed Gerald an envelope. ‘I want you to read this,' she said, ‘but only after our plane has taken off. Do you promise me?'

Gerald took the envelope and turned it in his fingers. ‘I promise,' he said. He chewed the inside of his cheek. ‘I didn't get you anything.'

Ruby tugged up the corner of her mouth. ‘You big dope,' she said. ‘You've already given me everything.' She leaned up and kissed him gently on the lips, then she turned and ran off to join Sam and her parents. Gerald looked at the envelope in his hands. When he looked up again, Ruby was gone.

Gerald sighed, then walked to where his mother and father were sitting among an assortment of carry-on luggage and discarded fast-food wrappers. Vi was slumped in a disconsolate funk, picking at the carton of French fries she held in one hand.

‘Come, Gerald,' she said, clearing a space among the rubbish for him to sit down. ‘You poor, poor boy. Oh, I shouldn't say it like that. It sounds like you haven't any money.' She picked out a single fry and nibbled it. ‘Then again, you don't have any money, so I guess it's accurate at least.' She emitted a weary sigh. ‘It was fun while it lasted, wasn't it? The grand parties. The champagne. The holidays in the snow and the sun. Our own ski resort, for goodness sake! Can you believe it, Gerald? Wasn't it all like a dream?' Vi sighed again. ‘All gone now.'

Gerald plucked a chip from the carton, and popped it in his mouth. It was cold. ‘Don't worry about it, Mum,' he said. ‘We've still got our home in Sydney. We just won't be mixing it with the super rich anymore.'

Vi cupped Gerald's chin in her hand. ‘But all our friends,' she said. ‘They'll still be yachting in the south of France and skiing in Switzerland and diving on the Great Barrier Reef. They'll be driving flash cars and drinking vintage wine and dining in Paris and shopping in Milan and—'

Gerald held up a hand to cut her off. ‘Mum, we've got something better than all that.'

Vi tilted her head. ‘And what is that, pray tell?'

Gerald smiled at her. ‘All that we really need.'

And he held the letter from Ruby in both hands and looked out the window, waiting until her flight was in the air.

Acknowledgments

Saying goodbye to make-believe friends should not be difficult. After all, it's not as if they're going to miss you. But for whatever reason—misty eyed sentimentality; God complex; control freakishness—saying goodbye to Gerald, Sam, Ruby and Felicity is proving difficult.

Gerald and the Valentine twins came into my life in 1999 with some pencil jottings in a ratty notebook. It took another ten years before they were ready to greet the world. Now, some half-a-million words later, their adventures are complete (at least the ones we are privy to—I'm sure they will continue to cause havoc in their own time). In the intervening period I have been fortunate to meet thousands of readers, young and formerly young, who have enjoyed almost as much as I have the
fun that these characters have harvested from their days. There was the family from Canada who wrote to let me know they looked forward to a new book each year so they could take turns reading it aloud during their summer motoring holiday across country, even making Dad drive around the block at the end of the day if the chapter was not quite finished. Then there was the father from Utah who emailed that he and his eleven-year-old son treasured their nightly bedtime ritual of reading a chapter to each other. And, of course, the countless letters from girls all wanting to audition for the role of Ruby if a movie should ever be made.

And now it is time to say goodbye to these plucky friends, but not without passing on my thanks to some actual people who helped bring them to life: my wife Kathryn and my children Sam, Ruby and Ella; Ali Lavau (for her honest feedback); Gerald Wluka (for the loan of his name. You can have it back now); the booksellers of Australia (and in particular Barbara and Tony Horgan); Sandy Davey (and Jeremy as well); and Michael Heyward and all at Text. The final thanks must go to my editor, Jane Pearson, who is responsible for rescuing Gerald from a far greater harm than anything Sir Mason Green could visit upon him, namely, my writing. Thank you, Jane.