The Opal Desert (35 page)

When she returned the car to Shirley's, she found that Pam was visiting the dugout. A pot of tea was quickly produced and both women wanted to know what Anna thought of the lake.

‘It's hard to explain. I don't think I can put the feeling, or the picture, into words. Anyway, you know it, so I don't have to,' said Anna.

Pam chuckled. ‘That's a good cop-out. But you're right. It is hard to describe. It's sort of like a blank canvas, so you can read it lots of ways.'

‘I was sorry that Davo and a group were there, because I wanted to have the place to myself,' said Anna. ‘And they left some rubbish behind.'

Pam rolled her eyes. ‘Typical Davo. He never does things properly. No wonder his business is struggling. Davo doesn't do enough really to enthuse people about this area. I've heard of visitors going out there and coming back complaining, “What is there to see . . . ? Nothing.”'

‘Which reminds me . . . I have some news for you, Pam,' announced Shirley. ‘It's about Kerrie. You know the sketches she did out at the lake when she was here the first time? When you took her there?'

‘I remember. The ones that inspired her to go back and start painting?' said Pam.

Shirley nodded, looking extremely pleased. ‘She did finish them. And . . . she's been invited to show them! It's such a feather in her cap and will boost her along no end.'

‘Wonderful. At a gallery in Sydney?' asked Pam.

‘No! The big art exhibition in Broken Hill next month. It's a huge thing. She's quite knocked out by it.'

‘So she'll be up here and come and see us?' said Pam.

‘Would she dare not?' laughed Shirley. She turned to Anna. ‘You'll love Kerrie. I've told you about her.'

‘You know, I think I should go over to the Hill and be there for the opening,' said Pam.

‘That's a terrific idea. Take Anna. I'll see Kerrie when she gets here. She's coming to stay for a couple of days. Said she had a surprise,' said Shirley.

‘I don't know if I can get time off,' began Anna, but Pam waved her hand.

‘We'll sort something out with Mick. You work hard enough for him. If he needs any help, Doug can give him a hand for a few hours. It's settled. You're coming, Anna.'

Anna looked at Shirley, who nodded. ‘I agree. And you'll enjoy it. I really want you to meet Kerrie. I'm so thrilled for her.'

‘Shirley really encouraged Kerrie to start painting again,' Pam said to Anna.

‘Shirley, for someone who doesn't get out much, you wield a lot of influence,' commented Anna drily.

Pam glanced at Anna. ‘Yes, she does.'

‘Rubbish. I just enjoy having you all around. Pour another cup of tea, Pam,' said Shirley.

K
ERRIE FELT AS THOUGH
somewhere between Broken Hill and Opal Lake she had driven across an invisible border. It just felt right and comfortable. She was now in familiar country and heading to a place that had become special to her. The thought amused her slightly. This country, which she knew Milton would consider raw, inhospitable and stark, deeply attracted her and appealed to her soul.

As she drove on she realised that she had missed being out here. She felt that through her sketches and then her paintings, which had grown from rough pencil and charcoal outlines, she had brought this country to life. She wound down the window for a few moments to savour the sensations of the bush, despite the dust and flies that quickly flew into the car. ‘Nothing else can recreate the feel of the sun, the air, the smells, and the intensity of the light and colours,' she said. ‘You just have to be here.'

‘I've so missed all this, especially my friends in Opal Lake. Phone calls to Shirley aren't the same as sitting over a cup of tea in her dugout. Broken Hill was exciting, getting ready for the exhibition, and being part of the outback art scene, but now I feel I'm on the homeward stretch. I'm so glad we have time to make this detour before the exhibition opens.' Kerrie glanced at the young woman beside her. ‘I suppose you think I'm a bit crazy.'

‘Well, this is pretty wild country, so remote. Not the sort of place I would have thought you'd like, Kerrie. You wouldn't want to actually live out here, would you?'

‘Alia, I'm learning that living is a state of mind.

I don't think it's the places themselves, but how you react to them.' Kerrie couldn't see Alia's expression because owl-like sunglasses covered so much of her face. ‘Thank you again, you did an amazing job helping with your father's retrospective, Alia.'

‘Thanks, Kerrie. I think I was a bit overwhelmed by it all at first, but I have to say we had a great time in New York, didn't we? Not that I was entirely at ease with what I did. And I felt as much a fish out of water helping with your paintings in Broken Hill. Maybe I'm still not sure where I belong.'

‘I think you've shown that you're a natural curator, Alia. It's obviously something you like and you're good at. And I think you should try to involve yourself with more art shows.'

‘Yes. I s'pose so. Being my father's daughter and your offsider helped me get a toe in the door, but I need to get work on my own merits. You're right. I do want to get involved with organising more exhibitions.'

‘You're fortunate to know that. Some people never do find their passion.'

Alia glanced at her stepmother. ‘You must feel pleased that you're finally doing what you always wanted to do.'

‘Yes. I was very happy to put your father first while we were married. When you love someone you don't think that you're making sacrifices, especially as your father was such a formidable talent. But all those years that I didn't paint meant that I lost confidence in my own abilities.'

‘He really was quite amazing, wasn't he? I'm sorry I didn't appreciate his work as much as I should have while he was still alive. His retrospective exhibition in New York was quite an eye opener. I used to visit him sometimes in his studio, but it wasn't to watch him work. He was just our dad who was a soft touch,' said Alia. ‘And a lot of fun.'

Kerrie was quiet for a moment. Ever since she'd taken Shirley's advice and asked Alia to accompany her to New York to help with the massive job of compiling and exhibiting Milton's key works, Alia had started to change her attitude. At first Kerrie assumed it was the chance for Alia to meet a lot of influential art world heavyweights, but she soon saw that Alia was genuinely keen and interested in her father's work and wanted to make the exhibition a true reflection of his genius. Kerrie found that Alia was proud to be recognised as Milton's daughter.

‘I know he was deeply immersed in his work, but never forget he adored you girls,' said Kerrie. ‘I think he'd be thrilled to know that you want to enter the art world, too.'

‘Are you pleased to be part of it now as an artist in your own right?' asked Alia.

‘I'm amazed. I couldn't believe it when Murray Evans showed the bush artists the photos of my paintings I'd sent him, and the Broken Hill Gallery invited me to exhibit. I so love this country. It's really inspired me,' said Kerrie happily.

Alia glanced out the window. ‘It's certainly not Europe!'

‘I hope you won't be bored in Opal Lake and when you go to the opening. I'm so thrilled you'll be there. It's such a special event in Broken Hill. It's only held every couple of years.'

‘Yes, talking to the people at the gallery, I gather it's quite a big deal,' said Alia politely. ‘And your work looks terrific.'

‘I know it's not New York,' laughed Kerrie, ‘but I don't have big ambitions. I think I only want acceptance and acknowledgment by other people that I have some talent. You always wonder what you're capable of doing, which is why I'm so very grateful to my friend Shirley for giving me the encouragement to paint again.'

‘She seems to be a pretty special person in your life,' said Alia curiously. ‘I've never known you to have many close friends, not counting Tim.'

‘You're right. I've never had girlfriends that I hung out with. But Shirley is so warm, smart, funny. It's not surprising that people gravitate to her. I think you'll like her,' said Kerrie, adding, ‘Everyone in Opal Lake is nice. Pam and Doug, who run the B&B we're staying in, are lovely too. I think it's something to do with being part of a small, isolated community.'

‘It seems unusual that an older woman who lives alone in a cave, whom you met less than eighteen months ago, has had such a big impact on you,' said Alia.

‘Yep. But that's about right,' said Kerrie cheerfully. ‘Sometimes when you least expect it people come into your life at the right time. I have to say I'm happy that it's going to be reciprocal. She's helped me, so I'm doing something for her in return.' Kerrie looked pleased with herself.

Alia knew that Kerrie was still excited at seeing her work come together for the exhibition. She had been impressed with the gallery, which had quashed her worries that the Broken Hill show might be a hick country affair, for it contained the work of several well-known Australian painters. Alia had been touched that Kerrie had asked her to come along to Broken Hill to help, and then to join her on her trip out to the opal country.

Since working with Kerrie on her father's retrospective in New York, Alia had a new appreciation of her stepmother. While Kerrie always acknowledged Milton's immense reputation, Alia had also begun to see how important Kerrie had been to furthering his artistic fame. It quickly became obvious to Alia that gallery owners, curators, art writers and academics had known Kerrie for quite some time, as they readily sought her opinion. Now she realised just how much Kerrie had devoted herself to her father's career at the cost of her own. And equally she had a greater awareness of how huge her father's reputation was and what a stunning body of work he'd created.

‘Well, you certainly did a lot for my father,' said Alia and added quietly, ‘for me, too.'

‘Thank you, sweetie,' said Kerrie and left it that. In time, she hoped that Luisa and Renata would also realise that she was not the greedy, self-centred stepmother they'd always assumed her to be. But for now she and Alia at least had created a closer bond through Milton's art.

‘We'll be coming into White Cliffs soon. I'm ready for a coffee,' said Kerrie. ‘You don't have to drive to Opal Lake this way. You can get there directly from Broken Hill, but I thought you might like to see this little town while you have the chance. And we'll still get to Opal Lake before dark, which is great.'

When Alia glimpsed the distant township she wondered why the town was called white, for, in the afternoon sunlight, she felt as though she was looking at cliffs rolling from the horizon like a red wave. Then she saw what looked like a white crest on top of the cliffs above the stunted trees and scrubby saltbush of the plains.

‘Those white lumps are mullock heaps. People have dug holes and shafts and great caverns underground and what comes out of them is piled high beside the mine.'

‘The surface looks like a bomb hit it,' commented Alia. ‘All those holes.' As they drove into the tiny township she exclaimed, ‘It's small!'

‘Darling, if you think this is small, wait till you get to Opal Lake. It's a fraction of this size! But it's deceptive because so much of the town is underground.'

‘You mean like the shopping malls and football stadium,' joked Alia.

They stopped at the general store where Kerrie chatted with some of the locals, then the two of them headed up the hill to the Opal Delight Café and Gem Shop.

‘Pam always says that they have lovely cappuccinos and home-made cake here,' said Kerrie.

While Kerrie ordered, Alia looked at the display case near the counter where local opals and some jewellery were for sale. When the coffee and food was served Alia joined Kerrie, who'd been chatting to the owners.

‘Do you know everyone in the district?' asked Alia.

‘No, I don't, but they are friends of friends of mine. Like I said, it's a small community out here.'

‘There's some amazing jewellery over there in the display cabinet. Very dramatic. Never seen jewellery like that,' said Alia. ‘I'm impressed.'

‘That'd be some of Ingrid's pieces. She sells a few bits locally. She lives in Opal Lake. In fact I stayed in her place when I came the first Christmas after your father died.

I hope she's around, you'd enjoy her company. She might show you some more of her work.'

Another couple came into the café and greeted Kerrie enthusiastically. ‘Hi, Kerrie. Gustav and Helen. Remember us? We met at Pam's last year? No, I think it was longer ago than that. We haven't seen you for a while. Are you staying here or going to Opal Lake?'

‘I'm on my way there now,' answered Kerrie. ‘This is my stepdaughter, Alia. Gustav is a well-known palaeontologist, geologist, fossil specialist and acclaimed academic, and his wife Helen, whom everyone says knows even more,' finished Kerrie with a smile.

Helen laughed as she shook Alia's hand. ‘We're still students, too. There's a lot to learn out here. Are you enjoying the opal fields?'

‘I haven't been here very long. We've been visiting Broken Hill and now we're going to stay in Opal Lake for a couple of days,' said Alia.

‘What are you up to, Kerrie?'

‘I have some paintings in the art show at the Hill.'

‘Kerrie! That's fantastic! Congratulations,' said Helen.

‘Well done.' Gustav pumped her hand. ‘Weren't you painting when we first met you?'

‘Sketching, and thinking about it. Shirley encouraged me and the lake inspired me. What are you guys up to?'

‘We're doing a new book,' said Gustav.

‘We've been given access to some specimens in the Natural History Museum and a few private collections, and we'll be identifying them and writing about them. But what we're really trying to do is to get some important sites protected and excavated by scientists,' said Helen. ‘Palaeontology is a poor cousin when it comes to funding. Along with finding known species we're sure there's a mother lode of unknown creatures fossilised in the opal dirt from the time an inland sea covered the centre of this continent, anything from small seashells to dinosaurs.'

Alia looked at Kerrie. ‘Dinosaur fossils? How amazing.'

‘There are a lot being found by miners who now turn them over to people like Helen and Gustav, even though the opalised ones can be very valuable,' said Kerrie, thinking of Shirley's precious Tajna.

‘But to us even the tiniest, most insignificant fragment can be a vital clue. The beginnings of life on this planet are recorded in ancient Australian rocks. And a place like Lightning Ridge has lots of fossils like dinosaurs, plants, and even early monotremes. So we've been trying to educate the miners to look for fossils and donate them,' said Gustav, ‘and get funding so museums can pay a fair price for them.'

‘That's incredible,' said Alia. ‘I'd love to come on a dig sometime.'

Kerrie looked surprised. ‘Would you really?'

‘We now have a little stone cottage on higher ground but our old caravan is parked under the Bimble Box trees as guest quarters, so come over to the Ridge any time,' said Helen.

‘You're going to be very busy this season,' said Kerrie.

‘We certainly are. But we love the work and this part of the country and most miners are pretty good,' said Helen. ‘The opal fields are full of individuals doing their own thing, just pottering away, hoping for that lucky strike. No clocks on an opal field so they can take their time sifting through the dirt.'