Guns 'n' Rose (22 page)

Les placed his paper on the table, got some orange juice and looked out the window. ‘And it looked like being such a nice day, too.'

‘Come on, don't get the shits, disco daddy. I've got something nice lined up for you. Are you hungry?'

‘Fuckin' starving.'

‘Good. Because I'm taking you to Berowra Waters for lunch. And seeing as you don't like drinking piss with your food this'll suit you, because you're driving.'

‘I'm driving to Berowra Waters?'

‘No. Gosford. Then we pick up a seaplane.'

‘A seaplane? Hang on a minute. How big's this fuckin' seaplane?'

‘It's—not very big, Les.'

‘Great.'

‘Don't shit yourself. You'll love it. Then we pick
something up at the restaurant and bring it back with us.'

Les looked at Jimmy for a second, then shrugged. ‘Okay. So what's the story? Where are we going, what do I wear?'

‘We're leaving in about half an hour. The place is called Peat's Eate. It's casual. But it's also the absolute grouse. So try to look—' Jimmy seemed to think for a moment as he picked up his notepad and his glass of orange juice—‘not like a Queenslander.'

I wonder what would be worse, thought Les, as he went into the bedroom to get changed, doing twenty years in a Turkish prison or spending two weeks up here with both Jimmy and Warren? It'd be a toss-up. Les left the same T-shirt on and changed into a clean pair of Levi's, his Road Mocs and a denim jacket he bought in Hawaii with Wylie Coyote on the back. He tossed a couple of things into his overnight bag and went into the kitchen. Jimmy was leaning against the sink wearing his Sergio Tranchetti tracksuit and his Fila trainers.

‘What's in the bag?' he asked.

‘I thought I'd bring my camera,' said Les, ‘plus a towel and another T-shirt in case we ditch.'

Jimmy gave a bit of a chuckle. ‘I might put my mobile in there.'

‘Go for your life,' said Les, ‘but if it gets wet, don't blame me.'

Jimmy did that, then looked at his watch. ‘Come on, Chuck Yager. Let's get going.'

There was a bit of traffic around Erina Fair, but the drive into Gosford listening to James Blundell twanging
through ‘Fast Train' on one of Norton's tapes was easy enough. As they started heading along The Entrance Road Les told Jimmy about bumping into the Shamash earlier. He didn't say anything about questioning him, just how he got punched up outside the disco and had put the snip on Les for his loose change. Jimmy couldn't quite believe it at first, so Les had to repeat himself, then Jimmy started laughing fit to bust. Watching him rolling around behind his seat belt Les could see once again why women were attracted to Jimmy. All aborigines, with their brown skin and perfect teeth, have got beautiful smiles. But Jimmy's was even more of an exception. It was highly infectious and almost lit up the front seat of the car.

‘You haven't got a bad smile, Jimmy,' Les told him. ‘You and your abo mates should try laughing more often. It'd do you the world of good.'

‘God, you're not wrong,' replied Jimmy, shaking his head. ‘But that is a complete crack-up. I can just see the cunt. Yes, my friends, it is me. I have returned. Bang! Crash!'

Jimmy was still chortling away when he told Les to pull up next to a park just up from the Central Coast Leagues Club that faced Brisbane Water. Across the wide calm bay Les could see a range of low hills running towards Woy Woy and the Peninsula in the distance and on the right an electric train rattling out of Gosford Station towards Point Clare and Tascott. Les zapped the car doors and they crossed the road. A restaurant sat over the water on the left, on the right was an old Sydney Harbour ferry that had been converted into another restaurant, boats and yachts bobbed
gently around on their moorings and, in between, a skinny, sandstone jetty with more boats tied up ran out about two hundred metres or so. There were a few cars parked around and several people fishing from the jetty; Les followed Jimmy out to a small wooden landing area at the end. It was a delightful day, with one or two clouds drifting across the blue sky and a light wind barely rippling the water. There was no sign of a plane, so Les stood easy taking it all in.

‘Bandits at eleven o'clock and closing,' said Jimmy after a few moments.

Norton looked up to his left. A black dot in the sky slowly drew nearer then started to bank. It was a blue and white single-engine job with two pontoons and steps fixed to the fuselage and windows running along the side. It landed easily, spreading a small arc in its wake, then gradually taxied around to the jetty as the pilot cut the motor. A bloke with a moustache and sunglasses, wearing blue trousers and a white shirt with epaulettes on the shoulders, got out and tied up. He gave Jimmy a big smile and a hello, and Les too. Jimmy said something to him, then they climbed on board. There was another pilot with a moustache sitting on the right up front, then a nicely dressed young couple, sitting behind them; Les and Jimmy piled in down the back. With six people inside counting the two pilots it was a bit of a squeeze and Les was glad Jimmy wasn't any bigger. The co-pilot explained about the safety procedures if they did have to ditch and how they'd be dropping the young couple off somewhere else first before they flew on to Peat's Eate. Most of this went over Norton's head. What Les mostly noticed
was that he was right up against the door, his knee almost jammed against the door handle that didn't look any different to one on a car, and if the door should open and his seat belt come undone, it would be a long, long way down. Never having been on a plane this small before, Les was naturally a little apprehensive. He didn't feel any better when the pilot turned round as they started to taxi off and said, ‘We're going to have to do a cross-wind take-off. So it might get a bit bumpy and the plane might dip a little. But don't let it worry you.'

‘Have you ever done a cross-wind take-off before?' the co-pilot asked him.

‘Only a couple. I'm not real good at them.'

‘I done one once. You want me to do it?'

‘No, it should be all right.' The pilot put his hand up to his face. ‘My glass eye's playing up today, though.'

‘Is it?'

‘Yeah, I think I got a bit of grit in it.'

The co-pilot pointed to his face. ‘Do you want to borrow mine?'

‘No, it should be okay.'

The others seemed to nod something. There was just a numbed silence from Les. When they got out into the open the pilot hit the throttle and away they went.

It seemed to take a while then slowly but surely the little plane lifted up and Les watched queasily as the water began falling away below them. Seconds later Les could see Lion Island, Barrenjoey Point and all the way to Sydney before they banked right over Pearl Beach and Patonga. The noise inside the cabin was almost deafening and although it seemed a little hairy at first,
once Norton figured out the door wasn't going to suddenly spring open and the two pilots didn't want to ditch any more than he did, it was one unforgettable buzz. The seaplane soared on into the blue. Underneath them the Hawkesbury River looked absolutely spectacular as it encompassed Berowra Waters and flowed into Pittwater like a long, wide, emerald-green ribbon, sparkling against the lush, warm jade of the surrounding bush.

It looked that good, Norton got his camera out of his bag and clicked off a few shots out the window; then took a couple in the cabin as well.

The pilot began to bring the plane down, then banked left and Les thought the wing was going to hit the water. When the plane straightened, the pilot executed a perfect, two-pontoon landing and they began to taxi along a wide tributary, past some holiday homes set against the low cliffs that were accessible only by boat or seaplane. A couple of boats went past and waved, then from somewhere a small police launch went past and
didn't
wave. Beneath the noise in the cabin Les thought he heard one pilot mutter to the other that he wondered what they were doing here. The plane turned right, then pulled up against a pier beneath a restaurant that was all glass windows facing the water. The young couple in the front got out as a waiter came down to greet them, and a few words were exchanged with the co-pilot. Then he got back in, the pilot started the engine and they began taxiing off again.

‘What do you reckon so far?' said Jimmy.

‘Unreal,' replied Norton enthusiastically. ‘We'll have to do it again.'

‘Any time at all, Les. Any time at all.'

Norton turned back to watch the water going past. He couldn't see all that much from the window, but as they went further he noticed the police had pulled the two boats over. Next thing the pilot hit the throttle and they were soon airborne again.

This time they barely seemed to skim the trees as the pilot followed the river past cliffs thick with trees or dotted here and there with tiny, pristine golden beaches. Les clicked off some more photos and could hardly believe he was only a few minutes flying time from a huge city like Sydney. The pilot banked left to a mumbled ‘oh shit' from Les, then straightened and they swished gently down on an absolutely secluded bay about the same size as Sydney Harbour. The plane taxied up to a small jetty with a few runabouts and a couple of motor launches moored alongside, and the co-pilot got out and tied up while Les and Jimmy climbed down the steps to be greeted by a young blonde girl in a white T-shirt and brown jeans and of all people, the grey-bearded pianist from the Baron Riley Bar. It was all smiles and hellos, then the girl led them across a neat, landscaped lawn dotted with palm trees. The restaurant was set beneath a shelter in a semi-circle of long wooden tables and wooden benches which faced a paved courtyard with a pergola in the middle for the piano player and his music mixer. A low cliff full of trees and shrubs sat behind the restaurant. There was a house just visible on the right, some small cabins and a pool on the left; then that was it. Absolutely nothing for miles but a huge beautiful bay surrounded by low, rolling hills thick with trees.

‘What do you reckon now?' said Jimmy.

‘What do I reckon?' Norton shook his head in wonder. ‘I never even knew this place existed. It's unbelievable.'

‘And Sydney's just down there.'

Les shook his head again. ‘Unbelievable.'

There were about thirty or so casually dressed people seated around the tables sipping drinks, ducks bobbed around by the jetty, birds called to each other in the trees, and lying or roaming around the grass were three dogs, including a black and brown Doberman. The smiling girl in the brown jeans sat them down at a table near the end closest to the water and said she'd be with them in a minute. A tall, grey-haired man with a moustache came across and said something to the pilot and they walked down to the plane. They had a few more words, then the co-pilot left him and walked back up to Jimmy.

‘Mr Rosewater,' he said politely. ‘We might be running a little late this afternoon.'

‘We're not in any mad hurry,' answered Jimmy. ‘What's up anyway?'

‘We're going to have to do a few trips to Pittwater and bring some police in.'

‘Police?' said Jimmy.

‘Yeah. Apparently some nutters have stolen two boats and shot a couple of fisheries inspectors. Then they shot up a police launch. So the police are stopping and searching all boats in the area. And we have to give a hand. But it shouldn't affect us that much. Maybe twenty minutes or so. We'll do our best, though.'

‘Yeah … righto,' replied Jimmy.

‘So have a good day,' smiled the co-pilot, ‘and we'll see you this afternoon.'

‘Roger over and out,' said Norton.

The co-pilot walked off and Les turned to Jimmy, who looked like he was thinking furiously. He stared at Les, then this noise suddenly came from Norton's overnight bag. Jimmy heard it and started to move. Les held up his hand.

‘No, I'll get it, Jimmy. I mean, I'm your driver. I may as well operate the switchboard as well.' Les unzipped the overnight bag and handed Jimmy his mobile phone.

Jimmy snatched it and pulled out the aerial. ‘Yeah. Yeah, I just fuckin' heard. Can you fuckin' believe it? Yeah. Okay. Yeah.' Jimmy looked at Les for a second. ‘No, that's no problem. Yeah. Yeah. Okay, see you then.' Jimmy pushed the aerial back in, Norton took the phone off him, put it back in the bag, then took out his camera. He aimed it at Jimmy and took a photo. ‘I don't know how that'll turn out, James. You weren't smiling very much.'

Jimmy stared evenly at Norton for a moment or two. ‘What are you doing tonight, Les?'

‘What am I doing tonight? Hah!' Les turned round and took a couple of photos of the seaplane taxiing off. ‘What do you think I'm doing? Carting you around somewhere, I suppose.'

‘You fancy a quick trip up to a place called Avondale and back? It's just this side of Newcastle.'

‘Sure,' shrugged Les. ‘Why not? That's what I'm here for, aren't I?'

‘We should be back in Terrigal by ten o'clock.'

‘Terrific. Just in time for a drink at the resort and before the disco gets too crowded.'

Jimmy detected the sarcasm in Norton's voice. ‘You don't mind, do you, Les?'

Les looked evenly at George's nephew. ‘Jimmy, I couldn't give a shit. And I don't give a fuck what you're up to either. But if the cops arrive and start asking questions, and they find out you're a dirty, scrumbo abo who should be in the nick,' Norton smiled and shook his head, ‘Jimmy, you're on your own, soul brother.'

Jimmy returned Norton's smile. ‘Thanks, Les. I always knew I could count on you.'

Norton was about to say something when the girl came back and asked if they wanted any drinks.

‘Yes. I'll have a Bloody Mary, please,' said Les. ‘And the bloody hotter, the bloody better.' He gave the girl a wink then looked at Jimmy. ‘Even if I'm driving, I can still have one.'