by Di Morrissey
‘No. We’ll provide all the necessary information when we send the horse over.’
The men stood, Mick shrugged, picked up his hat and the keys to the LandCruiser. ‘Right, follow me.’
As they drove towards the main stables, passing the breeding barns and foaling boxes, Mick tried to find out more about their horse, but they were reticent about giving details. This didn’t worry Mick, if someone thought they had a hot horse they might like to keep it quiet. It didn’t occur to him these men might not know a gelding from a billy goat.
After touring Guneda the men prepared to leave. ‘Um,’ asked Mick, ‘who’s the owner? What name shall I tell Tango?’
‘The horse is called . . . er,’ Cuomo turned to the other man who had not spoken.
‘Ambrosia.’
‘Right. That’s the horse. We’re part of a syndicate. Registered as Broadwater Holdings. Tell the boss we’ll be in touch.’
They didn’t bother to shake hands. The driver held the rear door open and they slid onto the back seat. Mick scratched his head as he watched the limo leave. Oh well, he’d done the best he could; they hadn’t asked many questions but they seemed to know about the place. Maybe they were just checking out that Guneda was what it claimed to be. He’d tell Tango about the visit when he returned from welcoming TR back to Tingulla.
To his surprise, two days later a hired horse float arrived, with a nervous dark thoroughbred with a white streak down its nose locked inside. The horse was cranky and highly strung and Mick and the driver had some trouble getting it out and into a small holding paddock.
‘We haven’t formally agreed to take this horse, the boss is away,’ Mick said.
The driver shrugged. ‘I was just paid to bring him here, not take him back.’ He handed over the papers and departed.
Mick skimmed through the documents. Ambrosia came from a well-connected sire and dam and was now owned by the Broadwater Syndicate. Mick didn’t bother reading further on to where the syndicate owners were listed — Alfredo Camboni, Dina Camboni-Hanlon, Antonio Cuomo and George Bannerman — his job was to settle the horse and leave the paperwork to Tango.
Colin was also paid a visit by Tony Cuomo and his silent personal assistant. They arrived unannounced at Harmony Hill and asked if they could take a look around. Colin had several workmen and builders with him so asked if they’d mind waiting or else take a look around unescorted. They said they’d prefer to look around themselves. Colin had no doubt they were checking up on things for Camboni. However, when they returned an hour later, Tony was effusive in his praise and accepted Colin’s offer of coffee.
They talked about the opening date of Harmony Hill and when Colin asked about marketing and advertising, Tony shrugged. ‘I have no knowledge of these things. I believe all that is your area. I am involved with the casino and a little horse racing. Which reminds me, I see you have built stables but have few horses yet.’
‘I understood George Bannerman was looking after that. I do have a couple of quiet horses and two Shetlands lined up for trail rides though.’
‘George will be sending you a horse in a few weeks, just to look after. He might be raced later but we don’t want him stuck out at Tamworth. We’d hoped he might be the horse we’d use in our betting syndicate. But Ambrosia is a better horse. George wants to give him one last chance to see if he’s any good. He used to be apparently.’
‘Does he need working out? So who’s going to look after him?’ asked Colin.
‘Whoever you get to run the horse rides, I s’pose. Your problem.’
Colin shrugged. ‘Fair enough. How are the casino plans?’
Tony looked at his personal assistant who had said nothing. ‘We’re working on it.’ He put down his cup and rose. ‘Thank you. I will tell Alfredo his investment here is in good hands.’
On the weekend Colin paid a visit to the coast to see Dina. She greeted him with an embrace, curling her arms about him and pushing her hips against his. ‘Umm. I’m glad to see you, caro. I have been sooo bored and lonely this week.’
Dina’s sensuality had an immediate effect on Colin. He felt himself becoming aroused before he’d even dropped his briefcase. He thrust himself back at her. ‘I’m pleased to see you too . . . Can’t you tell?’
Dina licked his ear and started to lead him towards the bedroom. ‘Hey, steady on, Dina, let me put my bag down. Get me a drink, there’s no rush, I’m not going anywhere.’ Colin sank into a chair putting down his briefcase.
‘Well that makes a change, you’re always rushing off somewhere.’ Dina poured two glasses of wine and handed Colin one and perched on the arm of his chair. ‘Caro, I’ve been thinking, why don’t I come and visit this resort of Pappa’s. This Harmony place that keeps you so busy, eh?’
Colin glanced at Dina in surprise. ‘Why? I mean, sure. But it’s not really your cup of tea. It’s not glitzy, in fact quite the opposite. Very simple, wholesome and healthy. Definitely not your scene,’ teased Colin.
Dina pouted. ‘Ugh. Are you trying to turn me off coming there?’
Colin gave his wife a shrewd look. She was playing the role of neglected and doting wife, but she obviously suspected he was up to something, seeing how he spent so much time there. Colin relaxed. This time he had nothing to hide. Well, only a few papers. There was no secret mistress tucked up at Harmony Hill. ‘I think it’s a great idea, Dina. I’d like you to see it. It’s different, and I’m really trying to get it established. Eventually it might be like those health farms you like to visit in America. It’s not plush and glamorous but it has its own charm. Like the people who work there.’
Dina stood up. He’d agreed too easily. ‘All right then. I just like to know what my husband is doing. Friends ask, and I can’t tell them any details. Now I’ll know all about it.’ She drained her glass and headed for the bedroom. ‘Pour me another wine, and bring it with you. Let’s take a Jacuzzi together.’
The next day they headed into the hinterland. Colin was telling Dina the background of Harmony Hill and what to expect, but she seemed rather bored with the idea now.
‘Stop making excuses. This isn’t a tour of inspection for Pappa. I’m just curious to see what you like so much out here.’
They drove through the grounds past the office where ripening papayas hung from a tree, to the two-bedroom cabin Colin had commandeered as his own. He led Dina into the open-plan sitting and dining area lined in honey pine. The floor was polished wood and the furniture casual rattan. She walked onto the small balcony and stared up towards the hill to one side and green patchwork of distant farmlets.
‘Pretty, isn’t it?’ said Colin, coming up behind her and putting his arms about her waist.
She turned back inside. ‘Yes, very sweet. Colin, there is no air-conditioning in here.’
‘You don’t need it, there are ceiling fans and there’s always a breeze.’ She flopped into a chair. ‘How about a drink?’
‘There’s cold ginger beer and lemon squash. Home-made,’ he added apologetically. ‘I’ll get some wine later; we’re having dinner with Bruce and Ria.’
‘Umm . . . I was thinking more of a gin and tonic. Like now.’
‘Dina, it’s only eleven in the morning! How about I show you round the place instead.’
‘I forgot, this is a health farm. All right, I’ll wait till lunch time.’
Colin helped her into the small dune buggy they used to drive about the place. ‘We’ll start up at the top of the hill where the yurts are. The sauna and spa are working, maybe you’d like a massage and spa? Ria gives a great massage.’
‘Oh does she? And what sort of a place is this?’ She gave him a penetrating look.
Colin laughed. ‘Dina, you’ve got a dirty mind. These are health massages guaranteed to help aches and pains and just make you feel relaxed and fit. Ria is a naturopath, but she doesn’t practise at a clinic anymore since she had Greta. That kid is the funniest little thing. I’ve got some horses for trail rides which aren’t set up
yet, and for the kids I got two Shetland ponies; one is a bad-tempered bastard, very set in his ways; the other one, Pansy, is as sweet as can be. She and Greta are inseparable, the kid is nuts about the horses. All of them.’ Colin changed the subject — he knew Dina was not interested in children.
Colin had arranged a picnic lunch by the creek, but Dina found the grass uncomfortable, the occasional fly bothered her, she hated eating with her fingers and worried about dirtying her white linen slacks. Colin shelved his plan of making love to her on the grassy bank beneath the trees, and they returned to the cabin where Dina hung up her clothes, closed the shutters, turned on the fan and slept the afternoon away.
At sunset Colin mixed her a drink, which he handed to her as she emerged from the shower. ‘A dressing drink for you. Feel better?’
‘I will after this,’ she said, lifting the cocktail from his hand.
Dinner at the Gadens was the usual informal occasion. They sat at a long wooden table in the garden spread with a variety of vegetarian dishes, salads and a baked Moroccan chicken dish.
Dina peered into the earthen dish. ‘What’s in it?’ To Colin it didn’t sound like a polite enquiry but more of a hint she could possibly be poisoned.
Ria was unfazed. ‘Oh spices, honey, nuts. Oh, here’s Greta. Look who’s here, sweetie.’
There was a general feeling of relief as the little girl rushed in and went to her father, climbing onto his lap and giving him a hug. ‘What have you been up to?’ he asked.
‘Tea party in my room.’ She looked shyly at Dina.
‘This is Auntie Dina,’ said Bruce. Dina nodded and gave a tight smile, hoping the child wouldn’t jump onto her lap. But Greta climbed down and stood demurely before Dina and held out her hand. ‘Come.’
Dina stared at the child, wondering what to say.
Ria came to her rescue. ‘She probably wants to show you something in her room. She’s been awfully quiet down there for a while.’
‘Shall I?’
Bruce got up and headed indoors to the kitchen. ‘I’ll make you another drink, Dina. Don’t let that little monkey rope you into an involved tea party.’
As Dina was led away by the small tot, Colin muttered to Ria, ‘Not much chance of that, Dina’s not into tea. Scotch is her tipple. I know you don’t drink so I have some wine in the — ’
There was a sudden shriek and Dina’s voice echoed from the back of the house, ‘Colin!’
Bruce reached Greta’s room first and burst out laughing. As the others crowded into the doorway they too started to laugh. Greta had a tea party set up on a little table and the guest of honour standing at the table wearing a bib and paper party hat was Pansy the Shetland. The pony stood placidly and was obviously quite at home. Dina, looking bemused, was standing at the far end of the room.
Ria pushed into the room and pulled the hat and bib from Pansy, saying crossly to Greta, ‘Now look, miss, I’ve told you before, you are not to bring Pansy into your room to play. Now take her back outside and put her outside the fence away from my garden.’
‘Do as your mother says then wash your hands and come to the table for dinner,’ added Bruce sternly.
The adults all grinned broadly as they watched the little girl lead the pony by its shaggy mane down the hall and out of the front door.
Bruce shrugged. ‘She loves the horses, she’s going to be underfoot at the stables, I’m afraid.’
‘We’ll have to keep an eye on her,’ said Colin tersely. Greta unwittingly reminded him of Queenie as a child.
Dina was not amused, which made everyone uncomfortable, and throughout dinner it was obvious she felt she was mixing with her social inferiors. ‘I understand you’re the gardener here, Bruce, and you give massages, Ria?’ She managed to give a lewd twist to the pronunciation of massage and her manner to Bruce was condescending.
Ria appeared not to notice. ‘Greta, it’s your bedtime; would you like Dad to read your story?’
Bruce picked up the child, glad to leave the table. By the time he had supervised teeth brushing, read a chapter of Blinky Bill and returned to the table, all was calm again. He noticed Dina had a full glass of wine and was the only one drinking, but she seemed happy enough telling some involved story about a palace in Italy where they’d lived for a time.
By the time Dina fell into bed, she was well and truly drunk, having had a nightcap while Colin got ready for bed. In the few minutes it took him, Dina fell asleep and he found her snoring lightly on her back in her underwear, her make-up still on and the half a glass of Scotch by the bed. Colin tipped it out and replaced it with water, knowing her nighttime thirsts and demands for water, then switched out the light and curled up on the other side of the bed, thinking how different his marriage was to that of the Gadens.
Dina had remained negative throughout the meal, scoffing in a forced gay manner when Ria had tried to explain some of the health treatments they planned, and as for the idea people would willingly pay money to try and change the pattern of their lives, Dina thought it was crazy. ‘People pay money for a good time. Not to torture themselves with health food, vitamin drinks, exercise and emotional confrontation,’ she said firmly. Colin secretly agreed with her, but wished she wouldn’t air these views with Bruce and Ria.
‘Well, it’s the end result people are interested in, like becoming healthy, feeling better and approaching life in a new, less stressful, more fulfilling way,’ said Bruce gently. ‘And if they can have a good time doing it, so much the better. Because, Dina, it may surprise you, but some people find a place like this rather enjoyable.’
‘Give me the Gold Coast any day,’ said Dina and they changed the subject.
Colin squeezed his eyes shut, willing sleep to come. Life with Dina was no picnic, but at least it wasn’t dull. He suddenly realised a smooth placid marriage like the Gadens’ would bore him. Dina did spend a fortune on herself but provided she hadn’t drunk too much, her sexual energy didn’t diminish and she was always ready to experiment or try something new and lascivious. Colin was the envy of many men who yearned to bed Dina; and on occasion, his spoiled and shallow wife could be fun.
As he finally drifted to sleep Colin decided to keep his options open, and that meant keeping Dina happy . . . for the time being. One never knew where lady luck might pop up next.
Chapter Seventeen
Tango drove under the archway to Tingulla and slowed his truck as he caught sight of Snowy in the distance. He was standing by a tree, his back to the homestead, looking towards the low range of Blue Hills. There was no mistaking the bent figure in his favourite red shirt, his white hair shining like silver in the sunlight.
Tango stopped and watched him for a moment; then, turning off the engine, got out, glad to stretch after the long drive, and vaulted the old post-and-railing fence. Snowy hadn’t shown any sign he’d seen him, though he must have heard the Toyota. Tango put two fingers in his mouth and gave a long musical whistle. Slowly the old man turned towards the sound and even at that distance Tango knew Snowy hadn’t seen the view before him but had been lost in deep thought or staring into his Dreaming. But now a wide grin spread across his lined face and he lifted an arm in a loose salute.
Tango ran over to him and impulsively hugged the tribal elder he regarded as his grandfather. ‘Watcha doing, Snowy? How’s everything at the house? Is TR home?’
‘Him body home but not his head.’ Snowy shook his own head sadly. ‘Big worry. Funny ting, him not knowin’ nobody. But his walkin’ coming along pretty good. How’s Guneda, you the big boss now, eh?’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that. Just minding the shop till TR’s better.’
They turned and began walking back towards Tango’s LandCruiser. ‘You comin’ up to the house?’
‘Soon enough, Tango. I’m jist listening to Tingulla spirits here ’n’ there.’
‘What do they say, Snowy?’
‘They wus telling me stories ‘bout what I must do. Dis my Dreaming place and the time comes
when you gotta pass it over. Dis your Dreaming place too.’
‘But I wasn’t born here, Snowy.’
‘No matter. You start ’em on Tingulla land when your mumma begin you. I knew from the minute I first seen you that you belong here.’
‘When was that, Snowy? I don’t remember. I didn’t come to Tingulla till I was about seventeen.’
‘I remember good. TR sent you over to check ‘cause they wus all worried ‘bout dis place. Millie had bad feelins and she wus right, when them no good people come to buy it up. You come up from Guneda and looked around and then you saw Nareedah and asked if you could ride her.’
‘Mum’s white Arabian. She was a beautiful horse,’ said Tango softly.
‘No fella could ride that horse like your mumma . . . but you did. You rode her, jist exact like your mumma. I knew then. I knew you belong Tingulla.’
‘And we all came home.’
‘Everyone got to come home to their Dreaming place one day. Before they go back to be with their spirits.’ Snowy gazed into the distance.
Tango put an arm around Snowy’s shoulders. ‘You’re not goin’ anywhere for a long time, Snowy. Hop in and we’ll go check on TR.’
‘Millie know you coming t’day?’
Tango started the engine. ‘Nope.’
‘She’s gonna be mad,’ grinned Snowy.
‘Does the old girl good to get riled up occasionally.’
‘Yeah, that Millie always gotta keep her fingers in everyting,’ Snowy remarked fondly.
Tango couldn’t have timed it better. He ran up the front steps as Snowy trailed behind him, catching Millie by the waist as she pushed the traymobile along the verandah to where everyone was gathered. She squealed in surprise and delight. ‘Tango! What a surprise, you didn’t tell me you were comin’. TR, look who’s here.’
‘He smelled the tea and cake,’ said Jim, getting up and shaking Tango’s hand.
TR was seated in a wicker chair, his crutches beside him. He smiled warmly at Tango. ‘Good to see you, Tango. Have you met Jenni? This is Jenni Brown, my physio.’