The Thousand Smiles of Nicholas Goring (21 page)

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Authors: Julie Bozza

Tags: #gay, #contemporary, #australia, #quest, #dreamtime, #male male romance

BOOK: The Thousand Smiles of Nicholas Goring
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"D'you see that, Denny?" Dave whispered.

"Oh that's marvellous!" she whispered back. She stopped at the threshold, and tried to let go of Dave's hand. "Go on, then! Go say hello."

Williams looked around, and beckoned Dave forward. He went with trepidation, more scared now than he'd been since all this began. Eventually he reached the chair he'd been sitting on all night, on the opposite side of the bed than Williams. And he sank to sit down, moving carefully. Not wanting to startle or confuse Nicholas with any unexpected movement. He didn't quite dare reach to take his husband's hand. Instead, into the rustling beeping quivering silence, he said, "Nicholas?"

At which Nicholas scowled some more, and then his gaze wandered haphazardly across to finally settle on Dave. A long moment while Nicholas tried to focus on him, finally squinting a bit, as if he didn't quite dare believe it really was Dave. But then at last he seemed to comprehend or maybe simply accept, and the frown lifted as if by magic and the scowl smoothed away – and one corner of that gorgeous mouth quirked into a smile.

"Nicholas …" Dave murmured happily, reaching now to gently cradle Nicholas's hand in his own, just as he'd been holding it all night. "Oh Nicholas … you little beauty. Oh thank God. Thank the Ancestors! Everything's going to be all right."

Nicholas's hand clutched briefly at his, though it seemed to require quite an effort, and then he could be seen to be forming a word. Dave and Dr Williams just waited, letting him take his time. Eventually Nicholas stuttered out, "S-s-song," though the G was more implied than spoken.

Dave burst into a grin. "You heard that? Charlie found it for me. It was a healing song."

Nicholas, however, seemed to want to roll his eyes impatiently. He got about halfway through that and gave up, then tried saying another word. "L-lines …"

"Lines?" Dave only took a moment. "Songlines? Is that what you're saying?"

Nicholas nodded a little, and seemed content enough with that for now.

"Cool," said Dave. "I'm gonna ask you to tell me more about that later, all right? But songlines, yeah? It's so cool you said that."

Nicholas's eyes started slipping closed, though he fought it for a moment, still trying to look at Dave.

"Yes, I think it's time for a nap, Nicholas," Dr Williams said. "You're doing very well, but let's not tire you out on the first day."

"I'll see ya later, Nicholas," Dave added as reassuringly as he knew how. He bent his head to press a kiss to the back of Nicholas's hand, hoping Nicholas would take that sensation with him into sleep. "I'll see you later, husband."

Once he was settled again, no longer lying quite so neatly in the bed, Dr Williams led Dave back out of the room. "Why don't you let Denise take you home for the rest of the morning, David? Have a few hours of sleep."

"But –"

"You'll be more use to him then."

Well, Dave couldn't really argue with that. "Can I come back this afternoon? And his father. His dad's flying over from England; he'll be here this evening. He can come visit, right?"

"Come back at three, David, and his father can join you for a little while this evening. But then I want you to take the night off, all right? Nicholas is in excellent hands here, I promise you."

"I know," Dave agreed with a smile. Denise appeared beside him again, and took his hand ready to take him away. "Thank you, Doctor."

"And thank
you
, David."

After which graciousness, Dave decided to save any further protests for later. With one last look at his beloved husband, Dave turned for home.

 

 

Nicholas slept most of the afternoon – a natural sleep, not induced, and apparently occasionally troubled by dreams – but Dave was content to simply sit beside him and hold his hand. Dave figured Nicholas needed most of all to rest, but when he was awake he spent half the time scowling, and even when he looked at Dave his instinctive smile sometimes seemed reluctant. Maybe Nicholas was simply feeling impatient already with where he found himself.

Denise had taken Robin to meet Richard off the plane from England, and brought him directly to the hospital. The reunion of father and son had tears springing even to Dave's eyes.

"Oh my boy," Richard murmured, walking towards the bed as if it were the last stage of a long pilgrimage. Dave brought him around to Nicholas's right side, so Richard could grasp Nicholas's hand without fear of disturbing any of the tubes and such. Richard collapsed to sit on the chair, and murmured again, "Oh my dear boy." The two of them gazed at each other fiercely. Nicholas hadn't said anything since he'd first woken that morning, but his look now spoke eloquently enough. Dave left them to it, and went to regather himself by the nurses' station.

About half an hour later, Richard was gently ushered out by one of the nurses. "He's asleep," Richard said to Dave, his tone full of wonder. "He's truly resting. I've been told to go do likewise. I couldn't sleep on the plane, that's true, but I think I will be able to sleep tonight, now that I've seen him."

"He's doing all right," Dave said, as reassuringly as he could.

"So much better than I'd expected. Better than I dared to hope." Richard looked at him feelingly. "
Thank
you, David. I'm sure we have you to thank for taking such great care of him."

"Well," he responded with an uncomfortable shrug. "I wish I'd done more."

"Nonsense, my boy," said Richard, drawing him into a hug. "You've been everything that we ever hoped for, and more besides."

Neither of them was too proud to cling for a while, but then they took a moment to regroup. Dave cleared his throat. "Why don't we go throw ourselves on Denise's mercy, and see if Vittorio will cook us dinner? I could do with a great big bowl of pasta. Sheer comfort food, you know?"

"I can't imagine anything better," Richard agreed.

 

 

 

 

twelve

In an astonishingly short period of time – a matter of a few days – Nicholas was well on the way to recovery. He was moved into a room in one of the regular wards, and soon the nurses had him out of bed and sitting up in a chair for a couple of hours each day. He still hardly spoke at all, but it was obvious from his awareness and his reactions that he was as bright and engaged as ever. Dr Williams counselled Dave and Richard to talk to Nicholas, and include him in conversations, just as they normally would when talking with him, and let Nicholas take his own time in choosing to reply. There would be plenty of chances to push a little later, whether gently or firmly, once he was further past the trauma.

"D'you think he's worried that he's lost his abilities, or something?" Dave asked. "Cos I don't reckon he has. I mean, he's still as sharp as a tack. He always knows exactly what's going on."

"Well, like you, I suspect it would be more about the worry than the actuality," Williams agreed. "But let's not push him just yet."

Richard huffed a little under his breath and fondly observed, "He's more than able to convey his meaning, in any case. He's still vain enough to be fretting about the hair you needed to shave off!"

They all had a quiet guilty chuckle about that. Dave regathered himself first. "I'll have to talk to his barber. Later, of course, once the wound's properly healed. Maybe he can visit the house, and come up with some sort of style that makes it look deliberate."

Richard looked at Dave very fondly. "You think of everything."

"Actually, what I'm more worried about," Dave blurted, forever unwilling to forgive himself for his inadequacies, "is the scowling. I mean, what's that about?"

"He never scowls at you, David," Richard pointed out.

"And not at you, either. But pretty much everyone else – even the doc here, and Nicholas has been seeing you for seven years now, hasn't he? I reckon he thinks of you as a friend."

Williams inclined his head. "Thank you. But again, let's wait and see. It might not be anything to worry about in the long-term. It might be a temporary disorientation, or a period of adjustment, or simply impatience."

Richard didn't huff, but actually laughed a little this time. "My dear boy has always tended towards impatience, I'm afraid."

"He's not bad-tempered, though," Dave argued, "and he's not the sort who doesn't like people."

After a moment, the doctor said, "We've talked about the possibility of some changes in behaviour or personality. I suspect from what we've seen that, if there are any, they'll be relatively minor. But it is possible you're seeing a shift in his nature."

Richard turned a worried glance on Dave – who replied before he could think twice about it, "It's not like I mind. Have you really looked at him when he scowls? He's like this great big beautiful thunderstorm."

The other two men laughed heartily.

"He's totally awesome. I'll just keep an eye out for lightning bolts, is all."

 

 

Dave experienced a bit of a lightning bolt himself the next morning. He was sitting with Nicholas – and Dave had him to himself for once, as Vittorio had taken Richard and Robin out for the day – and he was reading out loud from one of his own Patrick O'Brian books. There was a passage that had the officers and crew each bonding through the singing of songs, and when Dave came to a chapter break, he put his Kindle aside.

He pondered for a moment, and then met Nicholas's quizzical look. "D'you remember the first thing you said to me when you woke up after the operation?" Dave asked. He left a pause, in which Nicholas lifted his chin slightly in an equivocal answer. "You said ‘songlines'. I've been so curious about why. I hope you'll tell me about it one day." Dave left a rather longer pause, though not as if it were an unexpected thing to do. Then he continued, "I was thinking about that song Charlie gave me, too – you know, the one he had me sing to you. Did that have something to do with the songlines?"

Nicholas ducked his head briefly to one side. No.

"No worries," Dave said. "It's not as if I don't like a bit of mystery …"

Then Nicholas said, very clearly, "I followed the songs back to you."

Dave stared at him, rather startled to say the least.

"I would have found my way back, with or without Charlie."

"Would you?" Dave asked, trying to understand, while also trying not to betray his joyous sense of relief that obviously Nicholas was perfectly able to speak even if he didn't choose to.

"I followed the path of the songlines."

Dave's jaw dropped. "Oh …" Two and two finally started adding up to make seven. "Oh, mate! I think I'm having … Well, never mind that. That's awesome! Now we know you'll always be able to find your way back to me, and probably I will, too, in that case – I mean, find my way to you."

Nicholas nodded a little impatiently, obviously knowing something else was going on.

Dave scrambled for words, for sense. "I think I'm having one of those epi- epif- epicentre things."

Nicholas grinned a bit lopsidedly. "Epiphany."

"Exactly. Oh my God," said Dave. "I've finally figured it out. About the waterhole. I know what I have to do."

Nicholas's grin turned fuller, and he didn't speak again, but his eyes were just
glowing
with love and pride.

"You're brilliant, you know that?" Dave asked. "But what if I have to go do this?
Now
, I mean. Will you be all right if I leave you here for a couple of days, while Richard and Robin are still around to look after you?"

Nicholas favoured him with a half-scowl. But then he ducked his chin in a nod.

"God, I love you
so
much … And it's not like Richard doesn't deserve some proper time with you, yeah?" Dave was already standing, and reaching into his pocket for his phone. "I love you so much, but I've got to call Charlie, all right?"

Of course it was all right. Nicholas smiled at him with an arch kind of sweetness, and his long fingers plucked at the Kindle and lifted it – apparently to give himself something to frown at while Dave made his phone call.

 

 

Early in the morning two days later, Dave was standing on a low flat hill in the mulga scrub west of Cunnamulla. Charlie and another Indigenous man named Kalti stood with him.

Waiting below them on the plain was a gathering of friends and strangers. Denise was there with the Cruiser, with Bethan and Zoe in the back. Robin had, surprisingly, decided to abandon Nicholas and come as well. His presence might or might not be explained by the fact that Lisa Munroe was there, though he didn't seem to mind that Lisa had brought her partner Debbie. Ted Walinski was there with his Land Rover, and he'd brought Fred Harvey and Mr Teng with him. Mayor Shirley Johns was there, too, accompanied by Henri Wilson, who owned the big station out to the west of the waterhole. The Native Title guy Martin Bandjara had driven from Brisbane overnight to be part of it. And there was a hearteningly large group of Murri from the reserve and elsewhere, too – including Thursday, magnificently attired in native accessories, a headdress, and swirls of paint but otherwise as good as naked.

Dave took a breath. It was vital that he had witnesses, but oh what a disaster this would be if he messed up.

"You right, mate?" Charlie asked.

"Sure." Dave nodded. "Let's do this, yeah?"

"Yeah. Absolutely."

Dave turned to Kalti, and nodded respectfully. "Okay, so if I'm right, your songline brings you here. And mine starts here. So, would you mind singing the song about this place? If you can?"

Kalti nodded, took a couple of paces away, and with no further ado launched into a chant which resounded clearly in the cool morning air.

Within moments Dave was grinning, knowing already that they were off to a perfect start. His own song for this place, the very first of the sequence of songs he'd learned, consisted of exactly the same words, and though the tune was slightly different, the two songs belonged together. As soon as he realised that, Dave started singing, too. Kalti's gaze fixed on him – perhaps he had doubted, as surely most of them did – but now he knew. Charlie had withdrawn a little, and remained silent as if making the point that he wasn't driving this, though he was paying close attention. In fact, everyone was watching and listening in varying degrees of surprise and satisfaction – and of course not everyone would get on board even if Dave succeeded in this, but thank the Ancestors he was off to a good start.

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