by Di Morrissey
*
Ned put some music on in the car and played it very loudly as a means of avoiding conversation. But after they had been travelling for some time, Bella touched his arm.
‘Ned. What about your music? Don’t you have anything of yours I can hear? What about the new material you’ve been working on?’
‘Well . . . it’s not really ready. I’ve just been fumbling around with a few ideas . . .’ He paused, not wanting to sound like he hadn’t done anything. ‘I mean, it’s early days, and these things have to gestate first . . . but okay. I can put some music on, just some of my ideas, if you want to listen.’
In a way, Ned wanted to get Bella’s feedback on his work. She wasn’t as musical as he was, but she knew his work well, she was practical and she never held back her opinions.
As the music started, she said, ‘Is this the only copy? What kind of instruments do you have to work with?’
‘I rather lucked out with musical equipment. Carlo has a bunch of it. I gather he likes to hold parties. His keyboard has been useful for laying down a few different backing tracks, and he has a set of drums, so I’ve just made some rough tracks. It’s hardly professional, but you’ll get the general idea.’
‘I won’t ask about a storyline or anything, I just want to get a feel for the sound,’ said Bella. She leaned back and closed her eyes, listening intently.
Ned drove on, trying to clear his mind and imagine he was hearing what he’d written for the first time. He thought there was a freshness, a vitality, that was new and different from his previous work. As different as night and day. And he realised that this was literally true. Previously he’d done most of his composing at night, whereas up here he’d spent most of his creative time outdoors by the river or sitting higher up on one of the terraces, strumming chords, searching for images and lyrics, making notations. In the evening he’d sat at the keyboard, polishing and transcribing what he’d done during the day. Now there seemed to be more strength and less tentativeness to his music. It appeared that the dedication and application without interruption had allowed him to be more creative than he’d realised.
As the music finished, Bella turned to Ned.
‘Wow. I’m impressed. I can just see it all, the landscape and the stories I’ve heard about this place. Your work is so evocative. It makes me think of the ocean and pristine beaches, the coral reefs and the lush tablelands, the humid rainforests with their rare plants and animals as well as the people of this region and their unique stories,’ Bella paused and cocked her head. ‘I can imagine the driving force of a surging waterfall and the peacefulness of these wide open spaces. I think I can even hear hints of an Irish ballad, as well as the oriental flavour of a gong, and the muted peal of a bell.’
Ned was impressed by Bella’s subtle understanding of his work. ‘Thanks, Bella, that’s certainly positive. And you’re right, I am trying to tell people who have never been here something about the scenery and history of this area. I want to link them all together in a narrative involving places and incidents that are part of this amazing region. But the music is only half the picture. There has to be a theme and a story that’s the driving force bringing all these ideas together. And that’s the part that I’m finding the hardest.’ He paused. ‘I find it difficult to talk about what I’m trying to do until it’s gelled, and I still can’t get it all to come together. But I’m pleased that you like what I’ve done so far.’
Bella touched his arm. ‘It’s really wonderful, Ned.’
‘Thanks, Bell,’ Ned said, genuinely smiling at her for the first time. She held his smile for a moment and then they both gazed out of the window for a while in a companionable silence.
‘I’ve missed talking to you in the past few months, Ned,’ Bella said gently. ‘Remember when we were kids, how we talked, how you explained things to me?’
Ned smiled. ‘No, you explained them to me. You were always very definite about things; how they were, how they should be, what you were going to do. I just listened.’
Bella chuckled. ‘That was just a little girl laying down how she saw the world. And you never disagreed or corrected me. You let me believe that what I thought was how it was.’
‘Why not? Your little-girl fantasies would soon dissolve when confronted with the harsh realities of growing up. I didn’t want to be the one to tell you that’s not how things are and disillusion you,’ said Ned. ‘I knew you’d find out soon enough.’
‘Why are you so disenchanted?’ asked Bella. ‘Is it Ash? Brendan saw her the other day, by the way.’
‘Ashleigh? No.’ He paused. ‘Is she okay?’
‘Do you care?’ Then, obviously seeing the angry expression on Ned’s face, she quickly said, ‘Sorry, Ned. I was fond of her. I’ve never understood –’
‘Bella. Not now, please.’
‘That’s what you always say,’ said Bella, becoming frustrated. They had seemed to be really connecting and now he was shutting down again. ‘You always want to escape from any conversation that might require having to explain yourself.’
‘I just want to get on with my life. And for the moment my life is music,’ Ned said, gripping the steering wheel.
Bella was silent for a moment, but eventually said, ‘Okay, let’s go back to your music. What exactly is the issue? Do you have writer’s block?’
‘I’m not sure. Maybe I’m just frustrated because I know what I want to do with my music, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t get it right. I feel like the captain of an empty ship at the moment, setting out on a journey into uncharted waters. I know I’ll need a crew beside me at some stage – an arranger, orchestrator, director, conductor, recording engineer. I have a sense of what’s needed overall: music and lyrics, a great story, wonderful characters, a plot that engages the audience, unforgettable moments where the story pauses and a song lands to illuminate that moment. The audience needs to know quickly where we are, when it is, who it is about. I need a hook that identifies this, and a theme that links it all together, and I can’t seem to find that hook.’
‘You mean something that was there once and is still there now? Like a river, say?’ said Bella. ‘Or a mountain.’
Ned glanced at his sister. ‘Maybe. Hmm. A river. That might work.’
The two of them sat silently for a few minutes until Ned suddenly turned his vehicle into the carpark in front of the Golden Mile Roadhouse.
‘I want to stop here for a few minutes. I don’t need to pick up any supplies, I got the few items I needed in Cooktown, but I want to let my friends know that Toni will probably be leaving her car here next weekend. Come on in, I’d like you to meet Frederick and Theresa.’
When they entered the roadhouse, Theresa immediately shouted out a greeting and Frederick came over to shake Ned’s hand.
‘Good to see you, mate,’ he said.
Ned gestured to Bella. ‘Frederick, this is my sister, Bella. She’ll be staying with me for a few days.’
‘G’day,’ Frederick said, shaking Bella’s hand. ‘You’ll like it out there, Bella. Bit remote, but really lovely. At night you can see a million stars. Make the most of it before the rainy season starts.’
‘How long do you reckon we’ve got?’ asked Ned.
‘Oh, maybe a little while yet, but there’s no doubt that things are heading that way,’ replied Frederick. ‘You two got time for a coffee before you set off for Carlo’s?’
‘Sure have,’ said Ned.
Ten minutes later, the four of them were seated around one of the tables in the roadhouse, drinking cups of hot, freshly brewed coffee.
‘This is delicious,’ said Bella. ‘This roadhouse seems so remote. Do you enjoy being this far away from civilisation?’
‘We do,’ said Theresa, nodding. ‘There’re always interesting people passing through, usually on the way to Cape York or heading south towards Mareeba or Cairns
. Surprising the number of people who want to take a trip as far north as they can go and tell their friends they’ve been to the top of Australia. Mind you, the season for travellers is almost over. Not long now till the road becomes impassable, even for four-wheel drives.’
‘Because of the rain?’ asked Bella.
‘Sure is. It comes down in sheets and you can’t drive on the dirt roads. The rivers flood. It wasn’t that long ago that Cooktown was cut off from the rest of the country in the wet. Now that the all-weather road has been put through, that doesn’t happen. Not that many people go to Cooktown in the rainy season.’
‘Ned,’ said Bella, ‘you aren’t staying here in the rainy season, are you?’
Ned shook his head. ‘No, I intend to be well out of here by then, don’t worry.’
As they drank their coffee, Bella looked around the roadhouse. Interested by Frederick’s goldfield memorabilia, she excused herself and went over to have a closer look.
‘By the way, Ned,’ said Frederick, after Bella had gone, ‘I heard from the people who are supposed to be fixing Carlo’s sat phone, and it’s not good news, mate. It appears the part that’s needed to fix it has to come from down south, so you won’t be getting it back anytime soon.’
Ned shrugged. ‘It can’t be helped. I’ve gone this long without it, so I’m sure I’ll manage for a bit longer.’ Ned went on to tell Frederick about Toni’s impending visit.
‘We can look after her vehicle all right. So we’ll see you next weekend, will we?’
As Ned was nodding in agreement, Bella returned, bubbling with interest over the goldfield relics.
‘Frederick, where did all those bits and pieces come from? They are so interesting.’
‘Mostly from Maytown. It was the hub of goldmining in these parts, but that was more than a century ago. Not much left there now,’ he answered.
‘Well, that doesn’t stop you from fossicking around the place looking for souvenirs, does it?’ said Theresa in an amused voice.
‘Some of those relics and photos and newspaper cuttings have come from campers, tourists and souvenir hunters. Funny, though, no one has donated a bit of gold,’ he added with a grin.
When Ned had swallowed the last of his coffee, he got to his feet, thanked Frederick and Theresa and said that they had to be on their way. ‘I always have to concentrate when I get to the track. I’m still not confident about it, so I want to get started.’
‘Here, I made some fruitcake. Take it with you,’ said Theresa, handing them the freshly baked cake wrapped in foil.
*
Ned was quiet after they left the roadhouse as he mulled over once again what he was trying to convey in his musical. Talking with Bella had helped, but had not really solved his problems. Bella was quiet too, lost in her own thoughts.
A short time later he turned onto a dirt road which he followed for some distance. As the four-wheel drive bounced along, Bella commented that she hoped this drive wasn’t going to be too long, as it was very uncomfortable.
‘This is nothing, Bella. We haven’t even turned onto the track yet.’
When they did, Ned dropped all thoughts of his music and concentrated on the difficult drive.
‘Have you any idea where you are?’ asked Bella dubiously.
‘Shh, I don’t want to talk in case I take a wrong turning. So far, I’m all right.’
As the vehicle lurched along the almost invisible track, Bella said nothing, but took a very sharp intake of breath as they rocked from side to side.
She was quiet until she saw the lake, glittering in the sunlight and dotted with colourful water lilies. ‘Oh wow, how beautiful,’ she exclaimed.
‘Hard to believe it was once just a hole in the ground supplying water to a goldmine. Certainly this is less of an eyesore than it must have been thirty years ago,’ said Ned.
Bella glanced around. ‘We seem to be in the middle of nowhere. There’s not even a proper track. You’re just following wheel ruts which I can hardly see.’
‘I did get lost a couple of times when I first came here, but I feel a lot surer of my way now. Once you reach this lake, it’s pretty straightforward.’
Shortly afterwards, Ned pulled up and got out to unlock the gate. ‘Can you close it behind me?’ he said to Bella as he got back in the vehicle.
Inside the gated wall, Bella stood staring in amazement at the trees and the garden with its canal water feature. ‘What kind of architecture do you call this?’ she asked as the two of them walked into the patchwork house.
‘Tropical north, Italian style?’ suggested Ned as he put down their bags. Bella carried in the box of food Ned had bought in Cooktown.
‘Put the box on the bench and I’ll show you the rest of the place,’ said Ned, eager to see Bella’s reaction.
By the time they’d worked their way down to the river terrace, Bella was laughing and shaking her head. ‘I don’t believe this place! It’s crazy.’
‘Crazy nice? Or crazy mad?’
‘Crazy fun. That pizza oven! The barbecue! What a spot for a party! No wonder they have those great speakers and all that musical gear. You must be in heaven staying here.’
‘It’s the perfect set-up for me,’ agreed Ned. ‘Let’s get sorted and have a swim in the river before it gets dark.’
By the time Ned showed Bella where she could sleep and they’d unpacked and headed to the river, the sun was low, glazing the surface of the water in pewter and gold. The water was surprisingly warm and they floated and swam lazily.
‘You’re sure there’s nothing that can bite in here?’ asked Bella.
‘Only if you bite first,’ said Ned. ‘Want to race to the island and back to the bank?’
Bella shook her head. ‘I don’t have that much energy, and anyway, you’d win.’
When they had both had enough, they shook off the river water and made their way back to the house. Ned showed Bella the solar showers and asked if she was happy with steak for dinner.
Ned cooked the steaks and sipped a glass of red wine, watching the news on the large TV screen.
‘All mod cons. Incredible place,’ Bella said as she joined him.
‘So tell me, Bella, what have you been getting up to these holidays other than hunting me down?’
Bella laughed and told him about the last couple of weeks. Finally, she told him about Antony’s business offer and his ideas for a modular approach to tailoring specific holidays for time-poor tourists, especially overseas ones.
‘Sounds interesting,’ said Ned carefully.
‘I’m glad you think so,’ said Bella. ‘Brendan, Mr Stick-in-the-Mud, was so negative about the idea, I couldn’t believe it. We had a huge fight about it. He just has no faith in my abilities.’
Ned was surprised. ‘That doesn’t sound like Brendan.’
‘All he could see were the risks,’ said Bella. ‘I think it’s over between us. How can I be with someone who won’t support my dreams? I’ve had a couple of missed calls from him, but I’m not going to call him back. I don’t want to speak to him.’
Ned frowned and opened his mouth to say something, but Bella continued: ‘Antony is so positive and up-beat. He’s so confident and full of clever ideas. He’s a risk taker, which makes him kind of exciting, especially compared with Brendan. Ant’s made me want to change my own boring life.’
Ned found it hard to believe what he was hearing. ‘Bella, are you really telling me that you are prepared to throw over a good job, your boyfriend, leave home and take off with some charming, fast-talking travel operator? I can’t believe that you would do such a thing without at least investigating his business plan a bit further.’
‘Of course I will,’ Bella said a little tersely. ‘Antony’s ideas are still a bit vague at this stage, but he assures me he has financial backing lined up. I would obviously need to do more re
search before I attempted anything Antony has in mind, and I certainly haven’t told him that I will go in with him yet.’
Ned was relieved. ‘I’m pleased to hear it. It all sounds a bit airy-fairy to me.’
‘Ned, you’re as bad as Brendan!’ Bella said indignantly. ‘Why is it that neither of you assume I will make the right decision? I’m not stupid, and if I want to take a risk, then I’ll make sure that it’s not too great a one to take. Heavens, you’re prepared to take risks. Why can’t I?’
Ned held up his hands. ‘All right, all right, you’ve made your point, although I think it’s a shame about Brendan. I really like him.’
‘Well, you’re not being pressured to move in with him. I might just have dodged a bullet there.’
After dinner, as they were leaning back in Carlo’s homemade chairs, Ned heard Bella take a deep breath. ‘Do you think Dad would be spinning in his grave if he could see us both now?’ she asked. ‘You with your unfulfilled dream and me wanting to pursue a new career, both of us so unsettled?’ When Ned didn’t answer, she added with a sigh, ‘Doesn’t seem like Dad’s accident was nearly a year ago now, does it? The suddenness of it, having no preparation, no warning.’
Ned rose to get them both another drink. ‘Yeah, well, that’s how accidents are.’
Bella hunched forward. ‘He shouldn’t have gone to Melbourne for that conference in such terrible weather. He was always much too conscientious about doing the right thing.’
‘Bella! Please, leave it. We can’t change history,’ Ned snapped at her.
Bella stared at him, clearly surprised by the tone of his voice. ‘I know we can’t change history, but that doesn’t mean we can’t talk about it, does it? I miss Dad. We all do, which is why I think you should come home for Dad’s dedication.’
Ned closed his eyes. He’d known this would happen. Bella was like a dog with a bone. ‘Bella, I simply can’t. You see the situation here, I can’t leave. I haven’t the time, or the money. Mum understands.’ He turned and walked back into the kitchen.
Bella followed him. ‘But you don’t have the inclination to come either, it seems. If you wanted to, you would make the time. It would only be for a couple of days. Look, of course Mum says she doesn’t mind. She never wants to upset you. But I know she would really, really like for you to be there. We are such a small family, and –’