The Thousand Smiles of Nicholas Goring (15 page)

There was a collective melodramatically indrawn breath, and then a solution was quickly found. Dave would be sleeping alone, which of course suited him perfectly.

It would be an understatement to say he was less happy with what he found once he'd further unpacked the Cruiser. A couple of items he took out were suspiciously wet – with water, thank God, rather than petrol or anything else – and when he finally got into the stuff stashed securely up against the back seat, he found that one of the containers of water was leaking. Maybe half of it was gone. Not that that mattered much in itself – Dave quickly checked the water they'd stored in each of the three vehicles, but the rest was all safe, and of course he always took as much water as he could reasonably carry on a trip. In this case, the seven of them could probably survive for a couple of weeks on what they still had, and they were actually planning to be back in town the next night.

However. Despite the fact that Dave always planned for accidents and emergencies – or maybe because of that fact – it was very rare that anything actually went wrong. And this loss of water followed hard on the heels of the flat tyres, and he'd had that broken windscreen not so long ago as well.

Dave upended the leaky container in order to save what he could, and they used up the water that evening. Nevertheless, once he'd had a ponder while cleaning out the Cruiser, Dave definitely felt he owed his clients an apology. "Flat tyres. Losing some of our water. I want you to know that I don't take these things lightly."

"No worries," said Scott. "It's clear you've got it covered."

Another one – named Matt – said, "Everyone told us how you haven't lost a client yet. Or not for years, anyway."

"Ha," said Dave, and reached to touch one of the larger branches which was waiting by the campfire.

"Anyone can have a run of bad luck," one of the others reassured him. Owen.

"Thanks. Well. I have a Plan B, C, D and E for just about everything, so I'm sure we'll be okay."

"Absolutely," they all agreed.

Dave sighed. Bad luck, Owen had called it. But Dave was honestly beginning to wonder …

The next morning, when they stopped just off the road for a tea break, Scott quietly approached Dave. Scott and his Ford Territory had been bringing up the rear in their convoy of three, and now he announced that he'd noticed something. "Maybe I'm just imagining things, but I think there's somebody following us."

"Why d'you think that?"

"Most of the time, there's just dust in the mirrors. But every now and then there's a tiny shape in the distance that looks like a four-wheel drive, and a dust cloud behind it."

"And that's just been this morning?"

Scott shrugged uncomfortably. "Dunno. Maybe yesterday, too."

Dave carefully didn't look around, but he asked Scott, "Can you see it now?"

"Nah … But you know … I don't have that good an imagination, yeah?"

"Understood." Dave thought about this while he drank about half a cup of tea. Then he said, "All right, if you don't mind helping, let's see if we can't sort out what's going on."

"Sure," said Scott.

So, next time there was cover enough to make it work, Dave pulled the Cruiser over and parked in the shelter of some trees and scrub. The other two vehicles carried steadily on as if nothing had happened, their dust clouds obscuring the fact that the convoy had lost a member.

Dave climbed out and watched the other vehicles for long moments, not really liking to let his clients head off on their own. Then he turned to peer through the foliage to see what, if anything, might be following them.

Soon enough, a pale-coloured four-wheel drive hove into view. Dave adjusted his glasses on his nose, and squinted hard. As the details came into view, Dave wasn't overly surprised to find that the vehicle was a sand-coloured Land Rover Discovery. Ted Walinski. And as far as Dave could make out, it seemed he was alone, or at least there was no one in the passenger seat, and no other vehicles following.

Dave took a breath – and just as the Land Rover pulled past the trees, Dave stepped into view with his hand out to flag the man down.

Walinski had obviously been fooled, but anyone driving out here needed quick reactions; he hit the brakes, but let the Land Rover continue on a little, stopping at an angle a wary distance away so he could keep an eye on Dave and the surrounds as he slowly climbed out and down to the ground. "Mr Goring Taylor," the man said, while pausing nearer his own vehicle than Dave's.

"What are you doing out here?" Dave asked in unimpressed tones.

Walinski shrugged. "Guess you know the answer to that."

"Following me."

Another shrug, which was neither confirmation nor denial.

"I'll save you the trouble. I'm not going anywhere near the waterhole, not this trip."

"Well, maybe you are, maybe you aren't."

Dave crossed his arms, and favoured the man with a hard gaze. "One of my water containers sprang a leak yesterday. Do I have you to thank for that?"

Walinski looked genuinely shocked. "No! Hell no."

"And two flat tyres, back in Charleville. Know anything about that?"

"No – and I wouldn't –"

Dave sighed, and lifted a hand to indicate it didn't need to be said. "No, all right, I know that." After all, Dave was talking about life-threatening stuff, and anyone who really belonged out here would never stoop so low.

Walinski gestured towards the Cruiser. "Everything all right?"

"Yeah," Dave replied with a sigh. "I was just wanting to ambush you."

"Looks like the cavalry are coming, anyway."

Dave shook his head in bemusement to see – and hear – the two vehicles containing his clients returning at speed. "I didn't ask them to do that. They were meant to stay right out of it." The young blokes were hollering as if they thought Dave might need rescuing. "Here," said Dave, holding his right hand out to Walinski. "So they don't get the wrong idea."

The two of them shook hands very deliberately, making a bit of a show of it, so Dave's clients were relatively calm again by the time they stepped out of the vehicles. "All right, Dave?" asked Scott.

"Yeah, mate, I'm fine."

Walinski backed away a little, but asked, "D'you need water? You said you'd lost some."

"No, we're fine. There's plenty left. Thanks, though."

"All right." Walinski lifted a hand in a general farewell, and headed back towards his Land Rover. "See ya, then."

The others called, "See ya!"

But Dave followed after Walinski, and said to him quietly, "Look, I told you and I told Fred Harvey: I'll help as soon as I can. I've just got to make sure that place is safe first. Then I'm not gonna stand in anyone's way."

"Understood," said Walinski. And they shook hands once more and then parted.

Denise called the next day with news of someone else who'd withdrawn off-road access to their property.

"For everyone," Dave asked, "or just for me?"

"Well, for everyone. I guess. I don't know … No, surely for everyone!"

"Right." Still. Dave had to wonder if he were being completely paranoid, thinking there was a message in there for Dave alone.

"Man, that was a bit of a rough trip," Dave announced, pretty much as soon as he was safely back home in Brisbane.

"Missed me, did you?" Nicholas asked cheekily.

"Yeah, o' course. But to be honest I was glad you and Robin didn't come." Dave groaned a little as he stretched out his shoulders and tried to roll the kinks out of them. "Have to admit I'm pretty knackered."

"Here, then," said Nicholas, "I have the solution." He came over to where Dave was propped against the breakfast bar, and pressed a mug of steaming hot tea into Dave's hands, pressed a kiss to his temple.

Dave grinned at him, still a total sucker for this guy, and happily so. "That'll do it, every time."

Nicholas gave him another kiss for that. "Was it worse than you've already told me?"

"Well, no … But you know that I like things to go smoothly."

"Ah, but what's the point of having backup plans for your backup plans if you don't use them every now and then?"

Dave grimaced a quibble, though he had to acknowledge the point.

"And I'm sure your clients were more than satisfied. In fact, if I know you, they were downright happy about the whole trip!"

"Well, yeah, I did try to keep the drama off their radar."

"They probably didn't think it was anything more than business as usual, and I know very well you would have kept them safe."

Dave took a couple of mouthfuls of the tea, and then put down the mug so he could instead drag Nicholas close and wrap both arms around his waist. "Trying to talk me out of a good worry, are you?"

Nicholas rested his hands on Dave's shoulders and considered him for a long moment – and then he sighed and sagged a little, though he kept enough distance from Dave that they could talk to each other directly without squinting. "You haven't used the S word, but I know what you're thinking."

"I need to apologise for something … ?"

That drew a muted laugh. "Not
sorry
, David. Sabotage."

Dave stared at Nicholas, his gut sinking. Stupidly, it made the problem all the more real to finally be voiced. And by Nicholas, too. So much for Dave protecting his husband from the nastier side of life.

"That's what you're thinking, isn't it? The windscreen, the tyres, the water. The landowners withdrawing permission for you to go off-road."

"Yes," Dave at last said a bit hoarsely. "That's what I'm thinking."

"But you don't think that … Ted Walinski, for instance, is part of it."

"No, I don't think he is. Not that he's not trying in his own way … Well, he doesn't worry me. And maybe the rest isn't really a planned thing, but random. A few different people getting it into their heads to play pranks. Not like a planned campaign, you know?"

Nicholas's hands tightened on Dave's shoulders. "But it could become dangerous. What if you were out there in the middle of nowhere, and someone let all the Cruiser's tyres down?"

"I'd use the pump to refill them."

"And if you couldn't? I mean, what if the inner tubes were damaged?"

"I'd phone Charlie, and ask him to come get me."

"What if –"

"I'd grab the map, the compass, as much water as I could carry, and walk to the nearest station or town. And I'd leave messages every way I could, to let you all know where you could find me."

A silent moment passed, and then Nicholas reluctantly smiled. "I know you have all the answers."

Dave returned the smile, which prompted Nicholas's to become a more genuine thing. "So you don't need to worry about me, right?"

"Not so much about you, no. Although of course I do. As your husband, that's my privilege."

They shared a soppy grin, before Dave prompted, "What else are you worried about, then?"

Nicholas sighed, and pulled away from Dave's embrace. He paced off past the dining table, and then came back again. "What I'm worried about is the waterhole and the butterflies."

"I know," Dave said, making himself sound far more reassuring than he felt. "I know. I'm doing everything I can, Nicholas, I promise –"

"I know you are."

"The trouble is, I know I can't do anything much myself – but with you and Lisa, and Thursday and his lot, I figure we'll make it happen. We'll put it beyond any question of harm."

"But that's the problem," Nicholas replied in deadly calm tones. "It can never be put beyond any question, can it? It can never be entirely protected."

Dave stared at him, and his thoughts took on a desperate tinge. He tried to say something, but his throat was dry, and anyway Nicholas forged on.

"The waterhole exists in such a fragile balance. It wouldn't take much to destroy the habitat, or change it enough so that the butterflies can't adapt. If there are people out there willing to commit sabotage, then it has to occur to them that … that they could simply make the environmental problems go away. If there's nothing left to protect –"

"But, then, what's the answer?" Dave blurted out. "If we just leave the place be, how long d'you think it will remain hidden?"

"I don't know."

"Sometimes I think someone's gonna spot it one day – from the air, maybe, or some random off-roader is gonna crest that ridge. Other times, I think … that place is elsewhere … it's elsewhen. And no one's ever gonna find it. Especially not if I don't risk leading anyone there or leaving a trail to follow."

Despite being a scientist, Nicholas was obviously intensely interested in this notion. "I don't pretend to understand – it's an entirely different way of thinking – but you're saying the waterhole is caught in its own Dreaming."

"Maybe. I just don't know. I wish I did. And anyway, what about the songs … ?" Dave slumped a bit, and went to sit on the nearest dining chair. "I still need to – Well, no … maybe I need to let that go. Let the whole thing go. It's not like many people agree with what Charlie did, passing the songs to me."

Nicholas dropped to his knees before Dave, and grabbed onto him hard. "No. No, you mustn't give up on that. It's important. Whoever's causing trouble, they can't make the cultural problems go away, can they?"

He grimaced again. "It's not like there's a whole lot of people who take me seriously."

"But it's still a Dreamtime site."

"But only if … if the relationship between the land and the people is still alive. And I don't count."

"If the reserve is extended to include the waterhole, that makes it clear enough, and then the Murri will be better able to help protect it."

Dave sighed, and said in a small voice, "I'll just need to find someone – the right someone – to pass the songs to, and –"

"No, don't do that," Nicholas said, shaking him gently. "Not until you really have to. Old man grunter chose you, remember?" He laughed a little under his breath, but continued with quiet sincerity. "I realise you don't believe in the stories and songs in a
literal
way … but there's some part of you that … I don't know. That
feels
them as true. If that makes any kind of sense."