When the Singing Stops

by Di Morrissey

  The colonel looked at his watch. ‘Hey, I’d better check the bridge.’ He swallowed the remains of his drink and threw the plastic cup into the river.

  Connor realised Olivera had switched back to playing the affable host. The colonel’s recognition of the Amerindian claims to the land and resources surprised Connor. It sat uneasily with the self-interest the man espoused. It certainly would not increase his popularity among the country’s powerbrokers. And where, thought Connor, did all this fit with their invitation to spend a weekend up the river? He looked at Madi, who was engrossed once more in the jungle that embraced the river. She’s got spirit, that girl. Real spirit.

  ‘Hey, Madison.’ It was the colonel, his head around the cockpit doorway. ‘What you got to realise is that every man has his price. Some come cheaper than others. What’s important is who is doing the buying.’ He paused briefly. ‘Think about it.’

  Madi continued to stare across the river as he bustled back to the wheel and sounded the siren long and loud, signalling to a scatter of buildings in expansive gardens on a high bank of the river. He turned the boat and steered it towards a white jetty.

  Manicured lawns ran right down to the water’s edge. A pathway lined with palms and tropical shrubs climbed the bank to a large house that even from a distance reflected an impressive grandeur. There were barely visible rooftops of smaller residences scattered around the grounds.

  ‘There are six houses in this section and a little beach and another small stelling round the bend. It’s got water on three sides,’ said the colonel as Handy leapt onto the wharf with a rope.

  A middle-aged couple, smiling shyly, came to greet them. ‘That’s Rohan and Aradna, they’ll take care of everything. The guest cottages are over there. Andy, get the gear. Right, my friends, up to the main house and let’s find the others. Lunch is ready, Aradna?’

  She nodded. ‘We serve up soon as you say, master.’

  The group straggled along the grass carpet, gazing up at the huge double-storeyed plantation style weekender. This was scarcely roughing it.

  The other house guests, who’d arrived the day before, were spread along the spacious verandah, lolling on cane furniture and enjoying pre-lunch drinks. Antonio Destra was first to greet them. Then Lennie Krupuk, the former head of the mine, waved a hand. Matthew glanced at Kevin who shrugged and said, ‘Is Roxy here?’

  ‘’Fraid not. Busy supervising the packing back in Georgetown. We leave for Canada in a week.’

  The irrepressible Lennie had been swiftly and laterally ejected from Guyminco as the cost overruns attributable to him became increasingly obvious. He resigned before he was pushed, an arrangement that suited everyone.

  They then exchanged handshakes and warm greetings with the mines department official Ernesto St Kitt before the colonel launched into the rest of the introductions.

  Here at New Spirit was an impressive coterie of senior officials, government ministers’ men who made things happen in finance, trade, immigration and development. ‘All from the right side of the track,’ whispered Matthew to Madi.

  She gave him a nudge in the ribs. ‘By the way, I saw you bridle when I fired a salvo at the colonel.’

  ‘It’ll take more than that to sink the colonel.’

  ‘I’m sure it will.’

  Madi found the women were mostly girlfriends, decorative and unthreatening. Two more mature women quickly distanced themselves from the others, explaining they were private secretaries to two of the officials present. Madi was not sure how this was to be interpreted. The whole culture was unlike anything she’d experienced before, but she told herself it sure was interesting and it gave the weekend an unexpected edge.

  Finally a woman in her sixties appeared from inside the house. She had a stunning smile, broad forehead and strong chin, wide mouth and eyes that sparkled with laughter. She had once been a very beautiful woman. The remains of her beauty were now lost in rolls of glistening black fat and addled skin that spoke of too much liquor, smoking and an indulged life. Her dark curly hair had a dramatic band of grey in one single swathe from the centre of her forehead down one side. She wore a loose African print shift, her feet were bare and a series of carved wooden bangles rattled around her arms as she came towards them.

  ‘This is Lady Annabel Markham, just call her Annabel. If you want to know anything about horticulture, she’s your girl,’ boomed the colonel, introducing the group from the boat.

  ‘Girl’ wasn’t quite the appropriate word, thought Matthew as he gallantly rose and took Her Ladyship’s hand. ‘Very pleased to meet you.’

  Annabel had a deep throaty voice and a musical laugh. ‘And I too. What a devilish handsome boatload you’ve brought us, Bede.’ And she added, ‘I can call him Bede, in fact I can call him almost anything I like . . . and I have in our time, eh?’ she chuckled. ‘I’m his ex-sister-in-law. The last remnant of his earlier incarnation.’ She spoke with a very British accent and turned to Madi. ‘And which of these fellows is lucky enough to claim you as his pretty girlfriend, eh?’

  Madi bridled. ‘None of them is so lucky, I’m afraid. I am Matthew’s sister. I’m visiting him on my way to work in London.’

  ‘Congratulations, Madison! In one stroke you have put me in my place, told me you are nobody’s dolly bird, and that you are a professional woman. I salute you.’ Plump as she was, Lady Annabel bobbed in a graceful curtsy and Madison grinned. ‘Where are the drinks, Bede? You’re falling behind in your duties as host.’ She waved a hand, jangling her bangles and taking Madi’s elbow, propelled her to a chaise and matching footstool further along the verandah. Her Ladyship put up her feet and spread her bulk along the chaise, indicating Madi perch on the footstool.

  Madi did as she was bid, finding herself fascinated and also repelled by the imperious dame who seemed something of an anachronism in the present company.

  She eyed Madi. ‘I thought I’d rescue you from the damsels up there. Pinheads most of them. Now let’s talk about London. I adore London. I was schooled there then came back here, which was a bit of a waste . . . though it was a very social place in my time you’ll probably be surprised to hear. Very social. I married well . . . chose better than my sister,’ she chuckled again, looking at the colonel, ‘though the old bastard is good to me, seeing as I’m now a bit down on my uppers. He has to be nice to me, I know too much about him.

  ‘Anyway, I married a diplomat, Guyanese, very bright, quite a bit older than me—I recommend older men, by the way, provided they have their own money and teeth. We spent many years in London. Haven’t been back for yonks now. When he died I stayed on but the money ran out so I came back here and cared for my dear father till he passed away.

  ‘I’m all on my own now. Once Bede and my sister split up, she took off for Canada with their tribe—God, all those children, I thank my lucky stars I’m a long-distance aunt, couldn’t bear to have them around. And I stayed on and now in a strange way Bede Olivera, my ex-brother-in-law, is all the family I have.’

  ‘Don’t you get lonely?’ asked Madi, thinking Lady Annabel probably had a fund of stories to recount.

  ‘I used to rattle around in Daddy’s old house—where I grew up—I’ll take you there one day. Bede paid me out and did some deal so I at least have a small pension now. The house is only used occasionally. And I live in a flat behind Bede’s house. He spends a lot of time in New York, the second wife doesn’t want much to do with Guyana or me. Can’t imagine why. I can be quite entertaining, you know.’

  ‘I can see that,’ laughed Madison.

  The colonel came over. ‘Now, Annabel, stop holding court and boring Madison. Here’s a drink.’ He handed Lady Annabel a rum and coke. ‘More punch, Madi? Or something else? We have spirits, beer . . .’

  ‘A cold beer would be great. That punch sneaks up on you.’

  ‘Everything sneaks up on you in this place,’ observed Lady Annabel. ‘It’s one of Guyana’s charms . . . the unpredictable.’

  At lunch the
y sat along two big tables set on the verandah. A cool breeze wafting from the river below was fragrant with frangipani blooms. Aradna served large platters of baked fish, savoury rice, spinach salad and plantain fritters. Fine French and American wines appeared and later came brandy and port with a coconut mousse served in half shells sprinkled with brightly coloured shreds of coconut.

  ‘If this is a casual weekend lunch, what do you dish up on posh occasions in town?’ asked Kevin, leaning back in his chair and savouring the port.

  ‘The difference is that in Georgetown you have to listen to me pontificate over brandy and cigars, here you are allowed to head for the nearest hammock,’ joked the colonel.

  The group scattered slowly, Lady Annabel going into her bedroom, the others to their rooms or shady parts of the gardens where hammocks hung and lounge chairs were placed facing the river.

  ‘We’re going to play mah-jong, or maybe cards,’ said one of the girls, and Viti and Sharee were quick to agree to join them.

  Antonio wandered off with a couple of the senior public servants to a set of chairs at the far end of the garden.

  Matthew and Kevin opted to join the girls.

  ‘Feel like a bit of a walk?’ asked Connor.

  Madi nodded. ‘I need to walk off that lunch.’

  ‘Stay on the track,’ advised the colonel. ‘There are nasties out there!’

  They followed the path that wound through the landscaped gardens where the guest cottages were dotted. ‘It’s a pretty lavish setup, bit like a resort,’ commented Madi. ‘Where do you suppose he got the money?’

  ‘Need you ask? So, what do you think of our host, Colonel Olivera, and friends?’

  Madi was thoughtful for a moment. ‘Well, I’m not as familiar with the place and people as you guys are, but there are strange vibes beneath the surface. I have to say I find it all a little uncomfortable.’

  ‘You felt it too. I assume it’s the smell of power and corruption. That group could swing any deal they wanted. Most of all I think they’re out to cream off what they can.’

  Madi looked up questioningly at the man walking beside her. ‘You don’t seem too offended by it?’

  ‘Seen it all before, over and over again. It’s the way of the world, or at least a big slab of it. Power corrupts. Always has, always will. It just does so much better in a hothouse environment. Thrives, like a rainforest.’

  ‘But it doesn’t bother you?’

  ‘Of course, Madi. But there’s very little I can do about it, except to try to make the deals I’m involved in as clean as possible, but even they are going to end up a little grubby, you can be pretty sure.’

  ‘Like the colonel . . . always looking after Number One. I suppose you’re right. It’s the same to some degree everywhere, I guess. It just seems distasteful when there are poor people struggling to give their kids a slightly better chance. People like the Amerindians Lester took me to see. They’re good people, but they can’t get ahead because they’re not part of the system.’ They walked silently for a while then Madi went on. ‘It just seems so wrong when all I hear you men talk about is the wealth of this place.’

  Connor put his arm about her shoulders, almost a consoling gesture. ‘It’s pretty rough and ready out here, just thinly disguised by sophisticated days like today. We’re still trying to assess why Matt and Kevin and I were invited here with the bureaucrats who could get the mine on its feet.’

  ‘You mean you’re all here to make deals?’ asked Madi.

  ‘Not really. It will be a more subtle play. Did you notice Destra going off with a couple of those government officials? God knows what deal he’s trying to pull. Ernesto—he’s a surprise guest—the odd ball player, but he’ll have his ear to the ground for more clues to the mysterious El Dorado company that he told Matt had been siphoning off money from the mine. Possibly with Krupuk’s knowledge. I want to bend the ear of some of these government blokes. You see, Madi, so many of the people we need to help make the mine viable for sale are the same people who have been profiting from it. We are still having trouble getting approvals from government departments. Obstacles appear for no reason, files get lost, meetings get adjourned indefinitely. And there’s no way the AusGeo team will tolerate shonky deals, not while Johns sets the standards. He’s vintage crop, that man.’

  ‘Three cheers for some good news. But how is AusGeo going to get the job done under these circumstances?’

  Glancing at Madi’s worried face, he took her hand. ‘Don’t worry. It’s nothing that can’t be solved. You’re here for a good time. Let’s go exploring. Let’s leave the beaten track.’

  They turned onto a little used trail into jungle where the sunlight was shredded into thin shards as it penetrated the canopy above. The forest floor had little undergrowth yet they could barely fit on the path side by side. ‘Shall I go ahead, frighten away the snakes?’ said Connor.

  ‘You do that!’ Madi laughed, realising Connor would always be the sort of man who looked after a woman, whether the woman wanted to be looked after or not.

  He dropped her hand and stepped forward, and as he did so he leaned down and lightly kissed the top of her head. Surprised, she looked up at him and seeing his soft smile and the rather yearning expression in his eyes, caught her breath. In a second their faces drew close and he held her by the shoulders and kissed her lingeringly on the mouth. When they drew apart it seemed as if ages had passed. ‘Why did we wait so long to do that?’ he whispered, then squeezed her shoulder and stepped in front of her. ‘Okay, follow me, Macduff.’

  The trail weaved through rainforest trees and ferns, vines looped from branches and aerial roots stretched towards the dank moist ground.

  Connor stopped and craned his neck upwards. ‘Look at those trees, bloody magnificent. The country has millions of them.’

  ‘I wonder how old these trees are?’ Madi spoke softly, afraid to break the spell. The light about them seemed pale green, the air was heavy and wet, leaves the size of dinner plates drooped in the steamy atmosphere.

  ‘This is real Garden of Eden stuff . . . unbelievable, right on the doorstep,’ said Connor.

  ‘Strange I’ve never been in a rainforest before.’

  ‘Never been to North Queensland to see the Daintree?’ said Madi incredulously.

  ‘Went to the Blue Mountains in my bushwalking youth, but no, I missed the rainforest experience back home. Been spending too much time in the jungles of Tokyo, London and New York.’

  Madi was overcome by the impact of this place. She had read that there come moments of recognition in life where your soul connects with the place you are in, and she understood this to be one of those moments. She turned to Connor. ‘I don’t know how to explain this, but I’ve just had a sort of flash, a sense that this place is special, as if it holds a message for me.’

  Connor looked puzzled, but she seemed profoundly moved so he stilled the quip that sprang to his lips. ‘You mean like a premonition, or deja vu? And why this place?’

  ‘I don’t think it’s this particular spot, it’s more the forest or jungle itself. It’s the sort of thing Gwen talks about. She says if you feel at home, then it’s right you should be here. It’s the trees, the sheer wilderness, knowing this has been here so long . . .’

  ‘Madi, half a mile back there’s a mob sitting in the lap of luxury, we’re scarcely in total wilderness.’ Connor wrapped his arms about her. ‘Don’t take it so much to heart. Guyana is having a strange effect on you, I suspect. Or is it just because you’re at some personal crossroad?’

  She clung to him. ‘I don’t know, Connor. Lady Annabel said things just creep up on you in Guyana.’ She sighed, looked up into his eyes and smiled. He kissed her again and as they drew apart she looked about her. ‘All I know is, I have to go into the country—the interior. Up the rivers, see Kaieteur . . .’

  ‘Like Gwen,’ he said gently then looked at his watch. ‘I think we’d better get back. I’d like a bit of time with a bloke from Treasury who
’s one of the guests, to see if he can help me get a decision out of them occasionally.’

  She hugged him roughly. ‘How bloody romantic.’

  While Connor and Madi picked their way through the rainforest, the mid-afternoon lassitude and stillness had settled over the estate. Matthew swung lazily in a hammock under the thatched overhang outside the two-room cottage that he shared with Kevin. A slow footstep and shadow caused him to lift his head. Ernesto St Kitt was standing there.

  ‘Were you sleeping?’

  ‘No, just hanging out . . .’ Matthew struggled to sit up, the hammock rocking to and fro. ‘Come and join me, there’s a chair in the shade. Hottest time of day, I reckon. Maybe a swim might be in order soon.’

  ‘Yes, be a good idea.’ St Kitt settled himself in the chair and stretched out his dark legs. He looked like he was ready for tennis in immaculate white shorts and white short-sleeved shirt.

  He nodded his head towards the bedroom. ‘Kevin with you?’

  ‘Kevin’s trying to consolidate his position with Viti. Connor’s out walking in the rainforest with my sister.’

  St Kitt drew up his legs and leaned forward. ‘Good, then we can speak. The El Dorado company . . .’ he left the sentence unfinished.

  Matthew looked at him. ‘Have you found out anything?’

  ‘Yes and no,’ he said then chuckled. ‘Been the story of my life lately. I find a clue, then I find I’m in a blind alley. It seems that everywhere I turn some information is mysteriously missing. Apparently quite a few people know I’ve been digging around, even though I’ve tried to be careful. Files disappear from cabinets and computer systems. One of the secretaries remembered seeing references to El Dorado, then suddenly told me she must have been mistaken. Soon after, she quit her job.’

  Matthew leaned forward to encourage him. ‘Any hard facts?’

  St Kitt looked around as if expecting someone to be watching them, then replied. ‘Your mine is, I suspect, just one of many sources of funds for this El Dorado organisation. I don’t know who is behind the company as it is little more than a name with nominee shareholders to conceal the real owners of the operation. Even so, my file on it is growing very nicely and sooner rather than later I expect some names to fall into place. It’s like an invisible funnel. Money goes in but where the spout empties out, I don’t know. One thing I do know is that El Dorado has good connections with the government. It has been issued licences for a series of major development projects.’