Undara

by Annie Seaton

  ‘A tourist facility could be set up here—with sponsorship paying the set-up costs—and the university would benefit with a facility set-up where we had a continuous stream of visitors working on pre-set grids.’ Emlyn spoke quickly as her thoughts tumbled around.

  Greg and John both nodded. ‘But the property owner would have to be receptive to the idea,’ Greg said.

  Emlyn’s interest was growing as she thought about what it would mean for the future of the property, and the research of the university. It was exactly the sort of thing that Travis had been asking about the other day. No, maybe he hadn’t considered something on that scale, but the bigger it was the more chance there would be of getting sponsorship and government funding.

  ‘Let me get my computer.’ John got up and brought his laptop back to the table.

  ‘What sort of set-up costs would there be?’ Emlyn asked.

  ‘Accommodation, and all that goes in the rooms, the cost of staff to cook for the guests, safety equipment … and I suppose here you need vehicles like the Troop Carrier to get up to the entrance,’ Greg said. ‘Not to mention advertising. Have a look at the dinosaur website and you’ll get a feel for what they do out there. The property owner who made the initial discovery back in the late nineties began the build with lots of volunteers and support from the state museum. Since then, the state government has come on board to assist with the cost of building an onsite museum, and the facility where the fossil preparation shed has grown.’

  ‘Emlyn, look at this,’ John said as he pulled up the site details. She leaned over and read with him as he clicked through the various pages.

  ‘That’s got huge possibilities. I think it’s worth taking the idea to Travis. What do you all think?’ It was the most Emlyn had spoken at dinner since they’d arrived, and heat ran up her neck as she intercepted a look between the other two women.

  She lowered her gaze, feeling self-conscious. It didn’t matter what they thought. She was helping Travis, but more, this would also be beneficial to their research. There was so much ground to cover and they would barely scratch the surface—literally—with such a small research team as theirs over a few weeks.

  She couldn’t help her voice bubbling over. ‘Imagine a combination of what’s over at Undara, and a research facility here in the unexplored tubes? Imagine how many of the tubes we could get to.’

  ‘There’s no volcanic crater here, and no walks apart from the tubes—’ Lucy began.

  ‘That wouldn’t matter,’ Greg interrupted. ‘The sort of clientele that this type of stay would attract is not your usual family-type tourists. It’s costly and upmarket.’

  Emlyn stood and pushed in her chair. ‘I can’t wait to tell Travis about this. I’m going to head over there now.’

  ‘Isn’t it a bit late?’ Bill asked as he took the last plates from the table. ‘You know it’s heading for nine-thirty.’

  Emlyn widened her eyes. ‘Really? I had no idea. I’d better leave it till tomorrow, then.’

  Before she went to bed, she emailed David. Brief and to the point.

  David, the rest of the team has arrived. I am not alone. There’s no need to email again.

  She ignored the small twinge of discontent that took away from her anticipation about the idea she couldn’t wait to run by Travis.

  CHAPTER

  15

  Emlyn had to wait a few days before she could share her idea with Travis. She went to the house as soon as they came up from the tubes each afternoon, but there was no sign of anyone there or at the yards as she drove past. Disappointment filled her as she drove around the back of the house and past the shed on the way out. No sign of anyone or any vehicles. For a fleeting second, she thought about leaving Travis a note, but decided to come back after dinner, and she’d make sure it was at a reasonable hour tonight. She also wanted to mention the bags of snakes that had been waiting for them in the tubes. She still suspected it was Bluey’s doing.

  As each day passed, an easy camaraderie had developed in the team, and Emlyn found herself sitting at the dinner table later each night listening to conversations and enjoying the interaction. Once Larry had realised there was no pecking order to be established, he’d been much easier to take. No more posturing or telling everyone how good he was or who he’d worked with. Since he’d settled in, along with Bill, he’d kept them entertained most nights with funny anecdotes and stories. Even John had thawed a little more each night.

  The work had been put back a day yesterday. When they’d entered the first cave, John hadn’t been able to find his bag of tools. He stood there scratching his head as the others collected theirs.

  ‘I could have sworn I left it here. I must have taken it back up yesterday without thinking. It’ll be in the van.’

  Emlyn dug into her small backpack. ‘I’ve got a couple of spares, John, to save you going back up.’

  ‘Thanks, Em.’ They were in a daily routine now and they chatted as they headed for the grid.

  ‘A couple more days here and we’ll move deeper,’ Greg said as he walked along beside Emlyn. The lights from their headlamps flickered on the loose sandy floor as they made their way to the work area. They always kept their eyes open for snake tracks after that first day.

  ‘Look at that.’ Emlyn stopped and pointed to the ground. She pulled the larger flashlight from her bag. The floor was usually smooth, with small mounds along the path they took, but now there were furrows and the usual piles of dirt had been scattered.

  Greg crouched down. ‘It’s not footsteps. Something—or someone—has been in here since yesterday.’

  Emlyn shivered as Bluey’s words came back to her. Those caves are haunted.

  ‘What do you think it is?’ John caught up to them.

  Greg shrugged. ‘I can’t see any animal tracks or footsteps, but something has certainly disturbed the place. No idea what, though.’

  ‘Keep a good eye out.’ John moved past them and led the way, Larry taking up the rear. Emlyn smiled. The photographer was staying closer than he usually did.

  ‘Oh no.’ John’s exclamation reverberated off the walls as he turned into the cavern where the grid was marked out.

  Or had been. Emlyn stepped into the tube and stared in disbelief at the mess in front of them. Half of the pegs had been pulled out, and their string lines were gone. The dirt floor and the area that they had carefully marked out and brushed over the past few days was a mess of scattered dirt.

  ‘My God. What did that?’ Larry’s voice was hushed. ‘It wouldn’t be snakes?’

  Emlyn folded her arms. ‘I think it might be a matter of “who” not what.’

  As they moved across to the scattered pegs, a loud thumping and a hoarse, ghostly cry came from the dark tunnel ahead. Another shiver ran down Emlyn’s back.

  ‘Stay here, Emlyn.’ John raised a hand. ‘Greg and I will go and see what it is.’

  She shook her head. ‘No, I’m coming too.’

  ‘And me, too,’ Larry said. ‘Don’t leave me by myself.’

  Slowly they moved forwards, three flashlights now lighting up the way and disturbing the small bats that usually clung to the roof and walls.

  ‘Jesus,’ Larry exclaimed as they swooped low past them.

  ‘It’s all right. They won’t touch you,’ Emlyn reassured him.

  John stopped, and Emlyn peered around his shoulder. ‘It’s all right. Nothing sinister. Macropus dorsalis,’ he said.

  ‘A what?’ Larry said.

  ‘Just a wallaby,’ Emlyn said. ‘Oh, the poor thing. We’re going to need gloves to get that off.’

  A black-striped wallaby lay on the ground in front of them, tangled in the string lines that were missing from the cavern. As it thumped its legs against the dirt, it emitted a harsh grunt.

  ‘How did it get down here?’ Larry asked.

  ‘Obviously the same way we did,’ Greg said drily.

  It took a while to free the creature, and once they’d taken it up to the top
, John made the decision to go further in and mark out some new grids.

  Her email icon had been flashing after dinner and Emlyn clicked on it. David was at an IT conference in Melbourne. Would he never leave her in peace?

  Hi Em, from dreary Melbourne. Who’d believe it was the middle of summer! God it was hot on the way down here, though.

  Emlyn put her hand over her eyes. Of course, David would have driven down from Brisbane. He had a flying phobia and that had been why he wouldn’t fly across to Fiona’s wedding. But she’d wanted to go so badly, of course he’d agreed.

  Eventually.

  A shaft of grief pierced Emlyn’s chest and it was hard to breathe. She focused on drawing in air, and then focused on the words on the screen.

  It’s cold and wet, and I’ve got a head cold.

  I hope he took the Vicks with him, she thought. David had ended up in hospital one winter with pneumonia and it had been the longest night of her life, home alone with his side of the bed empty.

  Emlyn turned her attention back to the screen and chewed as she kept reading.

  The conference is boring and I thought I’d brighten my day by talking to you. You know, if you’re ever feeling lonely, just pick up the phone and call, and we can have a chat. No ties, nothing else. Although it would be nice to hear you laugh.

  Maybe I could tell you a joke. Remember the one … nah. You don’t want to hear that one again. You never thought it was funny, anyway.

  Sleep well, sweets. I’m going to rub my feet with Vicks and put socks on.

  What the hell did David think he was going to gain by sending her all that stupid stuff?

  Her hands clenched and her face heated. Emlyn welcomed the anger as it built.

  The old Emlyn was gone.

  Along with her dreams of love and happiness.

  Along with her family.

  * * *

  Even though she hadn’t caught up with Travis, the work in the tubes had been going well, and the results were encouraging at the second grid site. Despite only working into the first two caves beneath the glade, they’d already logged six species formerly believed to be extinct, as well as two yet-to-be-identified creatures, and the exhilaration of the team was growing more each day. As they entered the glade every morning, the expectation that they would have a good find was creating a cheery and positive atmosphere.

  Emlyn was healing. It was hard to believe that it was two weeks since she’d arrived. She welcomed the nights when she was physically exhausted after a long day. The ache in her arm was easing daily, and the tension headaches had stayed away. Physically, she was stronger, and mentally, her focus was on the work.

  After she left the deserted house, Emlyn drove slowly back to the camp, keeping an eye out for any sign of horses or the farm utes. She desperately wanted to know what Travis thought about the tourism idea.

  As she came to the bottom of the hill near the site of the old homestead, a vine with bright-burgundy flowers spilling down the bank caught her eye. On a whim, she pulled over to the side of the dirt road and climbed out of the vehicle. Walking over to the bank, she touched the cascading blooms. The small delicate flowers were waxy to the touch and the deep-red petals had a star-shaped centre. She picked a small bouquet and crossed the road, walked past the old ruins and kept going until she reached the old family cemetery.

  There were three graves, and she tried to read the engravings on the weathered headstones. The dates were faded, but she could make out two of the names, both Carlyles: Thomas and Lila. The last headstone was a different shape—smaller—but it was chipped and she could only make out an S at the beginning. Maybe it was a child’s grave. Sadness tugged at her—melancholy for the past. If it was a child, how did they die? Childhood illness had often been a death knell back in the early days of settlement in the bush. Far from any medical assistance, mothers had coped with the loss of many children to diphtheria and tuberculosis. Even childhood diseases like measles and chicken pox had been fatal to many.

  Emlyn crouched down, placing the pretty flowers beneath the stone, and touched the petals. ‘Rest easy, whoever you were, little one.’

  Sitting at a grave was a new experience for her. Her parents both had requested for their ashes to be spread out on Moreton Bay, where they’d loved sailing. Their plan had been to retire there, but sadly tragedy had intervened and ensured that had never happened. There were no graves to visit, and nowhere for Emlyn to leave flowers.

  ‘That’s Stanley.’

  Emlyn jumped and turned around as the deep voice interrupted her thoughts. She narrowed her eyes; she was sure he’d been nowhere in sight when she’d walked over from the car, and the paddocks were wide and open; there were few places to hide.

  ‘I saw you tracing over the letters. It’s almost impossible to read these days.’

  ‘Oh, hello, Bluey.’

  ‘We’ve got to stop meeting here.’ His face split into a huge grin, exposing missing teeth. ‘You’ll think I’ve got some sort of thing for hanging about graveyards. I hate the places. I’ll be in one soon enough meself.’ His grin faded and he muttered as he stared at the gravestone. ‘I’m the last one here.’

  Emlyn turned to him, wondering if he was ill. ‘I didn’t see you there when I walked over.’

  ‘I was up the hill. Flora threw a shoe.’ When he gestured up the slope, she could see a horse standing in the shade under the tree.

  ‘Ah, Flora is your horse.’

  ‘Yeah, I’m hoofing it back to the shed to get the ute.’

  ‘Hoofing it?’

  He smiled again, revealing nicotine-stained teeth, and pointed to his feet. ‘Shanks’s pony.’

  ‘I can go back and get the Troop Carrier and give you a lift if you like.’ Emlyn’s tension eased when he shook his head. He was a funny old fella, but friendly enough.

  ‘Nah. I’ll be there in no time.’ He took off his hat as he looked at the graves and put it on his chest. ‘It was kind of you to bring the flowers to the cemetery.’

  ‘Who was Stanley that you mentioned? A child?’ She gestured to the headstone.

  ‘Yep, he was one of the young stockmen on the place, way back in the early days. Back in the late 1800s. His younger brother married my great-grandmother, so my family’s always had a close connection to Hidden Valley. The story is that when Stanley died in his teens, Lila insisted he was buried with the family. She’d lost two of her children and wanted him to be near them.’

  Emlyn looked around with a frown. ‘Are their graves here, too?’

  ‘Just that old cross over there.’ Bluey shook his head. ‘It’s one of the great mysteries of the place. Missy and Tommy were never found.’

  ‘Found? What do you mean?’ she asked.

  ‘The story is they disappeared in mysterious circumstances. Some reckon they got kidnapped by the Chinese in the goldfields and put to work, but I won’t have a bar of that. Something bad happened. There’s been talk about it for over a hundred years.’

  Emlyn’s throat ached, and she focused on speaking evenly. ‘No matter how it happened. it would have been dreadful for their mother.’ Her voice hitched, and she fought down the sob that threatened. ‘To lose two children at once.’

  ‘Yep, you keep a good eye out, love. Keep safe when you’re down in those damn caves. You shouldn’t be down there you know, none of you. It’s not right.’

  ‘I know, you’ve already told me. We’re very careful.’ She looked intently at him. ‘The only thing we’ve seen is a lot of snakes down there. And one poor wallaby,’ she added archly.

  ‘Told you there was critters down there.’

  ‘You wouldn’t happen to know how they got down there?’

  Bluey frowned. ‘Why would I? What exactly are you asking?’

  Emlyn hesitated. He looked genuinely puzzled. Had she got it wrong? ‘I thought … Nothing.’ She shrugged. ‘Do you know if Travis is back at the house yet?’

  Bluey nodded. ‘Yep. Trav and the boys were ahead of me
when Flora stumbled. They’ll be back there already.’

  ‘Thanks. See you later, then.’ She gave him a wave as he returned to his horse.

  * * *

  ‘Okay, what do you need from me?’ Travis’s voice held suppressed enthusiasm … and hope.

  Emlyn was in the living room at the homestead. Joel and Jase had made a pot of tea and then disappeared into the bedroom. The sounds of a computer game filled the room until Travis shut the door.

  ‘Tell me more about this,’ he said. His interest when she’d given him a rough outline was encouraging.

  ‘We need to do a project plan, a feasibility study. Look at the objectives—for you and for continued research for us.’

  Travis grinned. ‘I suppose it’s not enough to say I need the money?’

  ‘No. That might be the bottom line, but we have to define and document the project-management plan to meet the project objectives.’

  He shook his head. ‘It all sounds like words to me.’

  Emlyn nodded. ‘It’s called jumping through hoops. But we need that to meet your objectives. As well as looking at any permits that might be required and doing a costing analysis. And other things.’

  ‘You know what?’ Travis scratched his head and Emlyn lifted her eyebrows.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I think I understand why I like working with cattle.’

  ‘I’m with you,’ she replied. ‘I know why I like working with insects.’

  ‘Okay. If it has to be done, let’s do it. How long have we got?’

  ‘The funding applications for the next triennium close at the end of this month, so if you’re serious about this, we’re going to have to devote the next two weeks to this full on.’ Emlyn looked up as Travis stood and began to pace the room.

  ‘Two weeks?’ he said, scratching his head. ‘You really think we’ve got a chance?’

  ‘I think we’ve got an excellent chance if we take care with the application. The concept is going to be a cross between the Undara tourist facility and the dinosaur work at Winton. As far as I know, there’s nothing else like it in the country. If we do our homework, I think we can get it.’