by Lucy Walker
‘What about me?’ he asked. ‘I’m Nick’s guest, and what’s more, I’m his friend, though I sometimes have them thrust on me by the talkers. Once I’m back at Baanya, it’s different. I mean to make inquiries about Bindaroo. That’s business! And business, like love, has its own rules.’ He drew on his cigarette. ‘If I pick up some ideas by accident, that’s different too.’
Cindie was silent because she didn’t know how to show her gratitude. She knew Jim was doing this for her sake alone. This knowledge touched her in her most susceptible place ‒ her heart. He had no other interest but hers in what Erica or Nick did with their spare time or their spare money.
They sat a long time talking of stars and constellations, and why the spinifex grew where nothing else could. On their way back to the camp, Cindie’s arm in Jim’s again, he told her he would watch out for any new developments he might hear, via the radio, of Erica’s movements while Cindie was away.
Something of the spirit of fun lightened their mood as they made plans to communicate with one another by radio.
‘We have to have a code,’ Jim said.
‘The things that sound so innocent over the air!’ Cindie laughed. ‘After this experience I’ll always wonder ‒ even if it’s only an announcement of some baby’s christening ‒ what is really behind anything said.’
‘That’s what we all do,’ Jim replied sagely. ‘We’ll rename that car of yours. From the day you leave the camp, till the day you come back, Holden will stand for Bindaroo. Right?’
Cindie nodded. ‘If you refer to my Holden in a message, I’ll know you really mean Bindaroo.’
‘Good. If we refer to the “heat” we’ll mean the pressure’s on for that sale. I’ll think up a few more code words and let you have them before you leave. Will it be some time next week?’
‘Nick didn’t say so, but Mary thinks it may be Monday or Tuesday ‒ according to how quickly Nick can organise the foreman and the work on the road. She said he has known about this conference for some time, so he has things pretty well worked out already.’
She did not tell Jim how much it had hurt her pride that Nick had first suggested the trip north as a gesture of kindness after his outburst at the spinifex fire. All the time it had been because he needed a secretary. A wily, astute man was Nick!
When they reached the door of Mary’s house Jim kissed her a gentle good night. This time it was on her lips, and not for the curl that sometimes dropped over her right temple. Cindie, still a little shy of this new kind of comforting love ‒ so different from David’s selfishness ‒ could not bring herself to return the kiss except with her usual one. Yet she drew his head down and kissed his forehead. If it was more tender than usual, Jim’s only comment was ‒ ‘That was my luckiest star to-night. An extra bright one. Good night, sweet Cindie-brown-all-over.’
She stood and watched him go, a tall strong figure, soon enveloped in the shadows of the first caravan row.
The party was a wonderful success.
The chef, in spite of Hazel and Co.’s misgivings, excelled himself with the barbecue dinner that came first.
The sun had barely gone down, and the light ‒ pink, amethyst and purple ‒ was still on the land when the six barbecue fires were lit: each on its own iron grille. Presently, when reduced to coals, those fires would grill the mountains of steak. There were T-bones, rump, and fillets of young beef: all brought out of the freezer-truck that stood behind the canteen. Fresh bread rolls, still hot from the oven, had been baked; and the chef’s own version of French mustard had been supplied in plenty.
Several of the men in from the road, led by Jim Vernon and Dicey George, all full of high spirits, showed themselves adept at turning the steaks and rescuing lost ones from the coals. Cartons of tinned ginger beer, orange juice and real beer were delivered from Mike’s store to the long tables, magically decorated with dyed spinifex and gum leaves, and set out around the main square.
When Nick and Erica arrived three minutes late, it was like the coming of royalty. The men, for the fun of it, gave them a cheer and raised their glasses.
Cindie, helping Mike with the opening of cans, thought they were indeed royalty ‒ of a kind. They looked it. Nick was in a spotless white shirt, wearing the only tie in the camp. Erica wore her most striking dress ‒ patterned with glowing bronze and gold ‒ that suited her colouring. She carried herself with such an air, she seemed like someone from higher realms.
‘No wonder they call her the Queen of the Spinifex,’ Cindie whispered to Mike. She was too honest not to admire the other girl, and too honest not to admire there was something enviable about someone who could make an entrance like that.
‘They’re quite a pair, aren’t they!’ Mike said dryly. It was a statement, not a question.
Jinx and Myrtle had run clamouring to Nick and Erica. Though they professed not to like the visitor, they were immediately under the spell of her glamour.
‘I’d like a dress like that,’ Myrtle said in her uninhibited way. ‘Do I have to wait till I’m grown up?’
‘You do,’ Erica replied. ‘Groomed and educated, too. Do you think that’s in the least likely?’
‘Anything’s likely,’ Jinx answered philosophically. This was a catch-phrase he had picked up from the men working on the road.
‘Where have you two been these last few nights?’ Nick asked the children with a grin. ‘Have you deserted old friends? There are still plenty of Cokes in the fridge ‒’
‘You don’t put ice in our drinks when Miss Erica’s there,’ Myrtle reproached him. ‘You only pay attention to her.’
‘She’s a visitor, little miss. Besides, it seems to me you’re the one right now who is busy admiring Miss Erica. Why shouldn’t I join in sometimes? What’s more ‒ do you blame me?’
It could all have been in the spirit of the party, but Cindie thought Nick really meant that last remark.
Even Myrtle’s small childlike glow shone but dimly beside Erica’s brilliance to-night.
Jim, making a great play of it ‒ bowing deeply as he did so ‒ came up and presented Erica first with a drink, then with the best of steaks, beautifully folded in a lettuce leaf and tucked into a bread roll. Dicey, enveloped in an apron, followed. With much elaborate pantomime, he bestowed the same offerings on Nick. Cindie, watching from the serving table where she was now buttering rolls, felt a pinprick of dismay. It was all very amusing, but it gave her an unaccountably left-out feeling. Her world was, for two minutes, bleak.
‘I’d do something about that, if I were you,’ Mike said meaningly, as he nodded his head towards the other group. ‘She doesn’t have to have the whole camp at her feet.’
‘You don’t seem to be in that lowly position,’ Cindie teased, regaining her poise.
‘You bet not!’ Mike’s expression was quite grim as he went on jagging holes in beer cans and handing the opened tins to the men.
‘You must be the only one,’ Cindie laughed. ‘Look at Dicey bringing up the rear now with paper napkins and the cocktail sausages. After all, Nick is the boss. And she is the guest of honour!’
‘Like I said,’ Mike repeated unperturbed, ‘I’d do something about it, if I were you. Jim Vernon came across that river to see you. On an ant-eaten log, at that. The cards ought to be stacked on your side. You’re younger. A lot nicer too, by any rules in my book ‒’
‘Oh, thank you for that, Mike dear. You’ve shot my sense of ego right up star-high again.’
‘Where it ought to be,’ he finished flatly.
Mike’s happy compliment raised her spirits. At least she wasn’t unpleasant to children, or bored by them. She could see something good in most people ‒ certainly in the men coming off the road at the end of the day, no matter how grimed they were from the dust and the sweat of building something so big it always made her own imagination totter to think of it. Besides ‒
Cindie buttered rolls with a sudden savage energy.
She didn’t want to take over other peop
le’s property without regard to all claimants, either. She could never be as ruthless as that. It was this, not all envy, that accounted for her feeling; she hoped ‒
Besides, Jim had come to see her. Not Erica, or anyone else.
When the barbecue was over, and the film about to begin, everyone trooped into the canteen.
The trestle tables had been put outside for the meal, and now the chairs in the canteen had been placed side by side, row behind row, ready for an audience.
Dicey immediately came into his own. He was suddenly very professional, and had forgotten his earlier flippancy while bowing to Erica and Nick. He was intent and serious while de-canning his film and adjusting his projector.
Mary insisted that she wanted to sit at the back of the hall.
‘I’m long-sighted,’ she maintained. ‘Besides, I like being by myself. I can duck outside and do some star-gazing if I don’t like Dicey’s choice of film.’
Cindie guessed this insistence of Mary’s was only an excuse. It made her feel unhappy, specially as Jim had arrived to sit with them.
‘Please do stay with us, Mary,’ Cindie begged. ‘We can sit nearer the back too. Can’t we, Jim?’
‘Nothing doing!’ Mary was quite emphatic. ‘Mr. Vernon is short-sighted, I know. I heard him talking to the Flying Doctor about it over the air once. He was recommended spectacles ‒ though I don’t see him wearing them over here.’
‘The specs were for reading only,’ Jim said with a grin.
‘I’m glad to hear it. I did ask myself at the time ‒ “How can the overseer at Baanya over-see, if he can’t see?” ’
She was already in the aisle, moving towards the back rows, where Flan sat watching her approach. Flan, Mary had declared once before, was so long-sighted he could see a lizard digesting its dinner back on the Mulga Ranges.
‘She really means it, Jim,’ Cindie said regretfully.
‘I’m sorry too, but Dicey did ask me to sit close by. He wants a hand to help wind on the film, when it comes to the joins.’ Nick and Erica sat in aisle seats two rows behind Cindie and Jim. Jinx and Myrtle, like all children, thought the best fun was in the front row.
The lights went down to the accompaniment of whistles from the men. Then the film began.
Within a few minutes Cindie leaned towards Jim.
‘I’ve seen it before,’ she whispered. ‘But it’s quite good.’
‘You can afford to miss it, then,’ he whispered back. ‘I don’t like films anyway. Bob your head down, and listen while I talk.’
They leaned forward, their heads coupled together and lowered beneath the eye-level of those behind. An imp of fun suggested to Cindie that Nick and Erica might have quite a lot to think about at such intimate behaviour.
Then she forgot about any kind of behaviour as she listened.
‘I’ve been hearing news about that Bindaroo deal, I’m afraid, Cindie,’ Jim kept his voice low. ‘Can you take it, girl? Or shall I wait till some other time?’
‘No. Please go on, Jim.’
‘I’ve been up the road to-day. All of a hundred miles. I kept away from you earlier for that reason. Did you mind?’
Cindie nodded. ‘I did,’ she said frankly. ‘Quite a lot.’
‘Sorry, sweetheart. I thought it wiser. We are conspirators, aren’t we? Well, it’s like this ‒ before the big rain and the wash-out, the men on the site up there were in the habit of talking to Marana’s stockmen as they came across to see the road. And to old Alexander, too. The men are of one mind that Erica came across the claypan neck specially to talk Bindaroo business with Nick ‒ before the rain cut her off. They’re only guessing, of course. They think there’s a promise of matrimony in it too. It doesn’t make your job so easy, does it?’
‘Go on, Jim. What else did the men talk about? I have to know.’ Cindie’s heart had taken another plunge. She couldn’t quite understand why this news had such an effect on her. After all, she’d known about the bid for Bindaroo all along.
‘It’s just that the betting is on a double partnership, that’s all. For Erica, matrimony as well as Bindaroo. It’s only guesswork. You know what the men are, Cindie. They’ll bet on anything ‒ even flies crawling up the other fellow’s back.’
Cindie, elbows on knees, rested her chin on her folded hands. She closed her eyes.
Why did people have to play games? Betting games! on other people’s lives? Why had Jim, her own friend, had to play up to Erica tonight while serving the steaks from the grill? Why, oh, why, did she herself feel so down-hearted now?
She thought of Nick.
Every man to his own choosing, of course! Erica, and Bindaroo? No, it would be the other way round. It would be for Erica ‒ Nick and Bindaroo. Everything in one hit.
‘Jim?’
‘Yes, Cindie?’
‘It would be an honest business deal, as far as Nick is concerned, wouldn’t it? I mean, about Bindaroo? You remember you said ‒’
‘I’m still saying yes. Nick’s not the man to risk a fine reputation for the sake of more money, or a little more power.’
‘Perhaps …’ she began slowly.
‘Perhaps what? So far all I’ve told you, Cindie, is grapevine talk only. The men, in their dry humorous way, call it the Big Marana Muster. Nicholas Brent and Co. and Bindaroo.’
‘Perhaps he loves her. Really loves her, I mean. That would account for everything. She’s very beautiful, isn’t she, Jim?’
‘A man would be a fool to deny that, Cindie. Or imagine it would not be a good combination all round. We have to be honest to ourselves, don’t we?’
Cindie thought for quite a long time.
‘Jim,’ she said at length. ‘Nick will give me a permanent job here. At least, Mary thinks he intends that. He must trust me or he wouldn’t do that, would he? Now I find myself sort of peering into something so very private about his life.’ She dropped her hands to her lap, and Jim took one of them in his own powerful grip. ‘I wouldn’t want to harm him, if he loves her ‒’ she finished.
‘You can’t afford to think that way, sweetheart,’ Jim said softly, cradling her hand, ‘There’s too much at stake for our mother. See how you’ve got even me rooting for that little lonely lady? Your duty lies there.’
‘Ye-es ‒’ She accepted this ‒ reluctantly ‒ now. ‘Listen, child. I might give an ear to what the men say; even join in their jokes with them, but I don’t give out. I say nothing. Nick’s not the only one round these parts can go dead-pan. Besides ‒’
‘Yes?’
‘You’ve kind of won my heart, Cindie. On account of those violet eyes, I guess. I want to help. I’ll do what I can.’
In spite of those words Cindie was troubled. She was Nick’s secretary now. She had to be loyal to him, out of duty. How could one divide a sense of duty into a two-way prong? How, when out on the spinifex plain, could one look two opposite ways at once?
‘It’s just an idea I have,’ she said. ‘If Nick is in love with Erica he mightn’t see anything wrong about what the Alexanders have done ‒ not going to the help of the Stevenses, and all that. People in love are blind. I know, because I was once that way myself. It’s awful when the blinkers come off ‒’
‘But you saw daylight in time?’
‘Yes. I think the Alexanders might think that Nick ought to be a station owner: or at least a substantial partner in a station, in order to be Erica’s equal. She’s supposed to be the biggest catch in the north. Almost an heiress, or something.’
Jim’s laugh was a little hollow.
‘You wouldn’t be making excuses for Nick, Cindie girl? Well don’t. Nick’s the master of his own destiny. He’s not to be bought, I’ll tell you that flat. What he does, now or in the future, he does because that’s the way he wants it. He’s that kind of man. If he and Erica go into double-harness it won’t be the Alexanders who run the stable. It’ll be Nick!’
Cindie turned her head to look round at the aisle seats where Nick and Erica sat. They too
were disregarding the film and were talking softly together. This intimacy had an unexpected punishing effect on Cindie.
‘Jim,’ she said, suddenly resolute. ‘I’m going on to Bindaroo … when I can. When I’m no longer a prisoner. I’m going to do something about my mother’s share in that place. I’m going to fight, or even plot and plan. If these are the business rules that are good enough for Erica and Nick ‒ then I’ll use them too. At least my boss is the one who is setting me an example!’
Jim squeezed Cindie’s hand. ‘Atta girl! That’s the spirit! Cindie lass, I regard myself as an honest man, but if someone tried to edge me out of my stake in Baanya, and I do have a small one there, I’d fight that person with any weapon ‒ that wasn’t lethal. I’d call it fair and square, too!’
‘Ssh! Look, Jim. Dicey wants your help. The reel’s run out ‒’
The film, when it came to an end, was greeted with handclaps and whistles.
Next came the concert items, each one greeted with loud acclaim whether it really merited it or not.
To everyone’s delight, Hazel and Co.’s charade was the hit of the evening. Whatever the inhabitants of the construction camp had said or thought about the wives earlier, they showed uproarious good-will now. The applause and congratulations brought the house down.
The chef, with an unexpectedly magnificent supper, capped all.
‘For my part,’ Hazel said loudly to as many people as were in hearing range, ‘he can stay behind his rolling-pin and closed door for the rest of his life. That’s if he can keep this up.’
Only Nick and Erica did not stay to the very end of the party.
Like royalty, they had come late. Like royalty, they went early: but not before Nick made a speech and thanked everyone ‒ those who did the work, and those who came to enjoy the efforts.
As he went through the door, his hand under Erica’s elbow, Cindie looked at his tall square-shouldered back.
I will not weaken, she promised herself before the two figures disappeared into the silence of the night and stars outside. Then she wondered why she found it necessary to protest to herself. Specially as she had Jim’s warm and loving heart on her side.