by Tony McKenna
‘What for?’ He knew the answer but played a game with her. ‘You wouldn’t like Coober Pedy much, you know. Full of dust, wind, flies and snakes. Dirty opal miners too.’ He watched her reaction.
‘I don’t care about the miners, Dad,’ she snapped, a tinge of disgust in her voice. ‘I’d just like to find a couple of opals that’s all. You know Mr Carter has invited us up to stay. Said we had an open invitation anytime we wanted to go.’ She then pulled out the big guns. ‘You know Mum wants to go, don’t you?’
‘You been harassing your mother as well as me have you?’
‘Dad!’ She was exasperated.
‘You haven’t told me why you really want to go, Nomes.’
‘Yes I have.’ She pouted and stormed off from where he was edging the lawn, her blonde hair glinting in the sunlight.
Ned knew ever since the two boys had left on the train that his daughter had strong feelings for the dark-haired lad Jack Ferguson. He concurred with her choice, as the lad seemed to be a decent sort of bloke, quiet and in control … except around his daughter.
He felt that Naomi was far too young to be getting seriously involved with any boy but when he had mentioned this fact to Rosemary she had reminded him how old she had been when they started courting.
‘That’s different,’ he had said defensively but his wife just looked at him.
‘Yeah, well. I still think she’s too young and we know nothin’ about him,’ he grunted.
‘Ron seems to think that Jack and his friend are really good young lads. Says they work hard and are honest and dependable. They were the two that helped get that trapped miner out, what was his name? … Bruno, wasn’t it?’
‘Must say they’re a cut above the other young blokes around here. Seem a lot maturer for their age. I suppose that’s because of where they live. Got to be tough to last up in Coober,’ he grudgingly admitted. ‘How long did they say they were staying in Perth?’
‘They didn’t, but I suppose it’s only for a holiday to see their parents, isn’t it?’
‘Maybe. Well … I’ll consider it. Perhaps we could go up in a month or so when it gets a bit cooler. Got some holidays due so I’ll think about it.’
‘Good,’ his wife said. ‘I’ll call Ron tomorrow and let him know we’ll take up his offer.’
Ned Wilson couldn’t help but think how alike Naomi and her mother were. Get any damn thing they want, those two, he thought lovingly.
They left Kalgoorlie on the morning of Jack’s birthday, heading home to Perth. Mrs Lacey had packed a picnic lunch of cold roast chicken and salad in a hamper with a thermos of tea. ‘See how you go then.’ She farewelled them as they drove out of the yard, her plump arms folded over her matronly apron-clad bosom.
The car ran beautifully and Father O’Malley was in his element behind the wheel of his treasured old Chev, with some hundreds of miles ahead of the bonnet with its chrome emblem glinting in the sunshine. He had been overwhelmed at the generosity of Jack and Harry in repairing his car, knowing he could never have afforded to pay the bill himself, at least not in one lump. To feel the car beneath him, smooth as the day he’d bought her, was one of life’s little pleasures he allowed himself. That and a small flutter on the horses now and then and, of course, a little drop of ‘the doins’ with his friend Paddy, but he felt that could be a rare treat now.
They had stopped to eat lunch beside the road under a clump of tall trees and Jack couldn’t help but stroke the trunk of a large tuart. ‘I just love big trees,’ he said by way of explanation. ‘No big trees like this in Coober Pedy, Father.’
Harry was content to sit and devour chicken legs; trees didn’t interest him all that much. He was waiting to get home and tuck into some fish and chips though, and head off to Cottesloe. He also wondered if he’d get a swim at the beach because the autumn weather was getting quite cool, unlike Coober where it was certainly cold at night but the sun still packed a punch during the day.
Excitement, mixed with trepidation, settled on the boys the closer they got to Perth and when they passed through Northam and headed down the range toward the city, the sun low in the sky before them, the reality of being back silenced them. Father O’Malley sensed their anxiety and understood, to a degree, what they must be feeling.
I hope this all goes well. He thought. He was nervous himself about meeting the parents and concerned that the boys might find their reception not as easy as he knew they were expecting, or at least hoping, it would be.
Jean and Claude arrived at the Fergusons just as the sun was setting. It had taken Jean a while to convince her husband about having a get-together but he eventually concurred, agreeing that they had to get on with their lives and that there was no harm in celebrating the boys’ birthdays in their absence.
The night was unusually warm for the time of year with a promise of rain in the air. Jack Ferguson had set wood in the barbecue and had run a power lead out to a tree where he had hung a light to shine on the area. He figured he would keep the fire stoked up as the night got cooler, to save them all having to go inside, and the kids could eat their tea on the newly enclosed verandah. Alice had a table set up especially for them with cordial, home-made sausage rolls and cheerios.
‘Want a beer, Claude?’ Jack took a bottle from the ice and snapped the top off, pouring a tall glass for his friend. ‘What would you like, Jean?’
‘Tea’s fine with me for now but I might have a brandy and ginger ale in a bit. I’ll give Alice a hand first.’ She went into the house, leaving the two men to discuss work, football and the Korean war situation that was headlining the newspapers, anything but their missing sons.
‘Been off buying cattle lately, Jack?’
‘No interstate trips for a while. Been up north a few times. The last big trip was over to Marree in South Australia. Big mob of cattle, that one.’
The two women joined them ‘What are you blokes telling lies about now?’ Alice jibed. ‘They usually tell some tall stories when we’re not here to water them down, Jean, eh?’
‘No lies, Alice, honest.’ Claude held up two hands in mock surrender, then arranged two chairs for the women. ‘Jack was just mentioning his trip across to Marree buying cattle.’
‘That’s somewhere near Coober Pedy isn’t it?’ Jean asked.
‘Yeah, not too far away.’
‘I’d like to see that country one of these days, dear.’
‘Not much to see, Alice. It’s flat, dry, red sand, hot and as rough as guts. We got to Marree and pulled up in front of the pub to find the front windows boarded up. Seems there was brawl in the bar the night before we got there between the drovers and some ringers. Tom Cooper, the bloke who brought the mob down we inspected, was involved and there was a big hole in the ceiling where the publican had fired a shotgun to stop the fight.’
‘How do people live like that?’ Jean said. ‘They sound like animals.’ ‘No, not really,’ Jack replied. ‘Just tough.’
‘Remember last time we were here for a barbecue we talked about opals and Coober Pedy and ….’ Jean stopped in mid sentence. ‘Oh I am sorry,’ she said softly.
‘Hey, that’s all right, Jean,’ Jack said, ‘There’s no sense in beating around the bush, too frightened to talk about anything in case it upsets us. After all, we’re here tonight to celebrate Jack and Harry’s birthdays and by God we’re gonna do it.’ He stood up. ‘It’s high time we put all the rot aside. I miss Jack like hell and worry about him but he made the choice and from the letters we get they both seem to be enjoying life and getting on with things. Not that I agree with it and I’d like to know exactly where they are right now but that’s how it is.’ He stopped to take a breath. It was a long speech for Jack and he noticed that the other three were staring at him in amazement. ‘Well.’ he went on, ‘I mean it.’ He topped up his beer glass and refilled Claude’s. ‘Get a sherry or something for you and Jean, Alice, so we can all drink to Jack and Harry’s health …wherever they may be.’
; As Alice returned from the kitchen with a bottle of cream sherry and two crystal glasses, they all wondered who could be arriving when headlights flashed down the driveway onto the garage and they heard a car pull up in front of the wooden picket gates.
Joe rubbed his watery eyes and leafed through the newspaper, gasping when he saw the headline. ‘Opal sells for record sum.’ He continued to read, envy boiling in him as the article went on to state that the large opal discovered by the rescued miner, Bruno Boccelli in Coober Pedy, had been sold for an undisclosed figure, said to be the highest ever paid for a single gemstone.
He walked to the lounge where Cyril was sleeping, empty beer bottles and an overflowing ashtray beside him on the floor. He poked him hard in the ribs. ‘Cyril … wake up ya lazy slob.’
‘What?’ Cyril opened his eyes and coughed. ‘What’s up?’ He rolled over and reached for his tobacco.
‘That opal the wog found has been sold for a fortune,’ Joe said bitterly, waving the newspaper in Cyril’s face. ‘I think it’s time we looked to heading back up to Coober Pedy and exacting a bit of revenge on that mongrel and those bloody smart-arse kids.’
‘Why don’t you let it rest, Joe, I think it’s a mistake to go back there.’
‘Mistake! What do ya mean, mistake?’ He snarled. ‘I reckon I deserve some of that opal money after what that bloke did. If he hadn’t of run us off we could have found some opal ourselves and made a quid, so it’s his fault that we didn’t.’
‘Suppose you’re right.’ Cyril yawned. ‘When do you want to go?’
‘We’ll get Andy over and work out a plan. I reckon we’ll leave it a week or two and let this Bruno bloke settle in, then we’ll strike.’
‘What sorta plan, Joe?’
‘How the hell do I know? We haven’t worked it out yet! You certainly are a dumb bugger aren’t ya?’
‘We’ll need another car, Joe. The old truck’s had it and I don’t think it’ll make it up there; besides, people will recognise it.’
‘Perhaps yer not as dumb as ya make out. Shouldn’t be a problem gettin’ a car, Cyril, Andy’s pretty good at that.’ He laughed sarcastically.
‘Yeah.’ Cyril’s face lit up ‘Wonder if he could pinch one of those new Studebakers; they’re pretty flash?’
‘No, we need something that doesn’t stand out. Once we’ve got our hands on some of that lovely cash you can buy whatever you like, mate.’
‘Yeah,’ Cyril said again.
‘Let’s get Andy over then and we’ll work it all out. We can take our time, as there’s no need to rush because that wog’ll never be able to spend all that cash in a hurry so there’ll be plenty left for us. We need to get hold of a coupla guns too. I wanna have somethin’ a bit more persuasive than a tyre lever this time.’
Bruno Boccelli arrived back in Coober Pedy richer than he had ever dreamed he would be, richer in fact than most people in the fields. When he was discharged from hospital he had organised for Ron Carter to have the gemstone escorted down to Adelaide and he sold it to the highest bidder. He was disappointed that it went to an overseas buyer, as he would have liked to see it remain in Australia, but nobody could match the price.
His purpose for going back to Coober was to tidy things up there and sell the mine. There had been a lot of interest shown now that there was a distinct possibility that there was more high quality opal still buried there. He knew he would never go underground again so selling was the sensible option. He had no memory of what had happened after he found the stone early that fateful morning before the drive collapsed. It seemed his mind had blanketed out a section of his life between finding the stone and a week or so before he was released from hospital. It was his intention to sell his claim, farewell the few friends he had, say hello to the boys and give them his Land Rover, as he heard they had been minding his claim while he was away. He then planned to leave the fields forever.
It was a surprise to him when Ron Carter said that Jack and Harry had returned to Perth. The policeman explained about how they had ended up in Coober Pedy, that Paddy O’Brien was taking care of things for them and sharing the work of looking after the claims with Reynold and that the boys had returned home to square things off with their parents.
‘You’re a lucky man, Bruno,’ Carter said. ‘Lucky to have found that gemstone and sold it for a fortune and lucky that you’re alive to tell the tale.’
‘I musta thank alla those men who digga me out.’
‘You need to thank the boys more than anyone, Bruno. If it weren’t for them you’d be dead, mate.’
‘Howsa that?’ He looked puzzled.
‘They were the first to discover the cave-in, Bruno. Harry took off and raised the alarm and got the rescuers out to you. Jack and young Reynold headed back down the shaft despite the danger and started to dig for you with their bare hands until help arrived. Didn’t you know that?’
Tears welled up in the Italian’s eyes. ‘Those boys they doa that for me?’
‘Yes, mate, they did. By the way, Bruno, I still have a dilly bag here with some Opals in it. I found it in your shed and brought it with me for safekeeping.’
The Italian spread the stones on the sergeant’s desk and, selecting the largest one from the pile, he handed it to him ‘To saya thanks.’
‘I can’t accept it, Bruno.’
‘Yesa you can. You helpa me out, you take care of the opla for Bruno, its just a littla thank you.’
‘I appreciate the thought, Bruno, but I can’t accept a gift like that. What I did was in the line of duty and it’d be against all the rules. You could think about maybe giving a couple to the lads,’ he suggested. ‘They deserve it more than anyone.’
‘Yes, I thinka something, yes. Do you know how I get inna touch with them?’
‘I don’t, but you can check with Paddy O’Brien. He should know where they are in Perth. I’ll run you out now and introduce you to him.’
‘You mind if you bringa him here, Ron? I notta want to look onna da mine ever again.’
Chapter Thirty Seven
The three people in the black Chevrolet were as nervous as each other when they pulled into the Ferguson driveway at Ashmorton. The closer they had got to Jack’s street the more concerned Jack and Harry had become about what sort of reaction they would receive from their parents and the anxiety was so infectious that Father O’Malley also had sweaty palms. Harry had insisted that they go to Jack’s place first. That way, he figured, the brunt of the reaction would be over by the time they contacted his parents but his plan backfired when they saw Claude Turner’s car parked on the roadway in front of the Ferguson house.
Jack sucked in a sharp breath. ‘That’s Dad. It’s me dad,’ he whispered as a figure walked around the side of the house towards them to investigate the visitors, his hand to his eyes, shielding them from the glare of the headlights.
‘Just settle down, lads. Everything will be fine.’ The priest spoke with a confidence he didn’t feel, ‘let’s work to the plan, you stay here for a bit.’
The headlights went out, leaving Jack Ferguson temporarily blinded as his eyes adjusted to the sudden blackness. He saw a dark figure step from the driver’s side and come to meet him and wondered who the stranger was, unable to recognise either what appeared to be an older model saloon or the tall stooped figure walking towards him. ‘Hello,’ he called, ‘Can I help you?’
‘Mr Ferguson?’ A voice asked from the darkness.
‘That’s right, who are you?’ His eyes began to focus and he recognised the clerical garb of a catholic priest as the man opened the gates to enter his front yard. ‘What do you want?’ Jack’s tone became challenging and slightly angry at the gall of this man to walk onto his property uninvited.
‘Do you mind if I come in, Mr Ferguson? I’m sorry to turn up unannounced but I have some news about your son, Jack. Good news, sir, I assure you, so please don’t be alarmed.’ He saw Ferguson flinch.
‘Jack? You’ve got news about Jack? You b
etter come in then.’ Ferguson peered into the darkness past the priest to the car. ‘Have you got someone with you, er … Father?’ Jack was unaccustomed to talking to priests.
‘They’ll be fine,’ the priest said quickly. ‘I’ll only take a minute or so of your time.’ He walked forward into the yard in case Jack decided to go closer to the car and held out his hand to introduce himself. ‘Timothy O’Malley, Mr Ferguson.’
‘Call me Jack. Come on in then, we’ve got Claude and Jean Turner here so they’ll be interested in any news you have. You see their son disappeared with our boy.’
‘I know, I’ve got news of Harry also.’ He saw Jack Ferguson throw him a sharp puzzled look.
The two boys were trembling as they watched the shadowy scene played out through the windscreen but unable to hear the conversation clearly. They had shrunk down into the seats when they thought that Jack’s father was going to come to the car and watched with trepidation as Father O’Malley disappeared from view with him around the corner of the house.
‘Alice, this is Father O’ Shan … er … sorry, O’ …’ Jack had forgotten the priest’s name.
‘Timothy O’Malley.’ The priest rescued Jack and he was beginning to get control of his fear. ‘Nice to meet you, Mrs Ferguson.’ He turned to Claude and Jean ‘You must be Harry’s parents, how do you do?’ He nodded to Jean and shook hands with Claude who looked at him suspiciously.
Alice stared at the priest blankly. ‘How do you know Jean and Claude?’
‘I don’t, Mrs Ferguson, but I know Harry. I know Jack also.’
Alice looked as if she was about to collapse and Jean gasped, her hand to her mouth. The two men stood side by side, staring at the priest silently.
‘Have we met somewhere before? Jack said.’
‘No, I don’t believe so.’ The priest replied thoughtfully.
‘You do look sorta familiar, Father.’ Claude looked at him closely ‘You haven’t said where you’re from.’