The Silent Country (41 page)

‘That hotel shaped like a crocodile? I’d like to see it,’ said Dougie.

‘You can always get something to eat, to go with your coffee,’ suggested Jamie.

‘Sounds like a plan to me,’ said Veronica.

Back in Darwin Jamie dropped Dougie and his gear at the TV station and Veronica at her hotel.

‘When can I see you?’ he asked. ‘Billy wants to cook for you again.’

‘That’s lovely, but I feel it’s my turn. How about I take you and Billy down to the wharf for dinner? Or is there somewhere else you can suggest?’ asked Veronica.

‘He’d love the wharf. And if he gets bored he can wander around while we share a bottle of wine.’

‘Done. What time would suit you guys?’

Jamie glanced at his watch. ‘Is an hour enough for you? We could catch the sunset and it won’t be a late night for Billy.’

The lights and neon signs from the various restaurants reflected on the dark water. Fishing boats and pleasure cruisers glided past the long crowded wharf. Music from a party boat outlined in lights could be heard above the din. But Jamie had asked for a table tucked in a corner out of the evening breeze. They were screened from the rest of the diners by potted palms and Veronica thought it one of the most romantic places she’d eaten in a long time.
They’d all chosen the mud crab, which was a messy but hilarious meal. After dinner Billy was allowed to leave the table and go and buy an ice-cream.

Jamie topped up Veronica’s glass of wine and touched his glass against hers.

‘I’ve enjoyed your company, Veronica. I hope you come again.’

‘Of course I will,’ she said. Then she thought, what if I have no reason to return? The thought bothered her. She was very attracted to Jamie. Not just for his looks and charm; she found him interesting, they’d talked about so many different things and she was discovering that beneath his rather shy reserve he could be quite beguiling. ‘I love your company. And Billy’s. And you’ve been so helpful. You know what Dougie asked me?’

Jamie shook his head, a smile lurking at the corners of his mouth, warmth shining in his eyes.

‘He wanted to know how long I’d known you as we seemed such good friends. He figured we’d known each other down south or somewhere.’

‘There you go, then. But I feel like that too.’

‘So we have to keep in touch,’ said Veronica firmly. ‘If you come to Sydney, I’ll show you some of my favourite spots.’

‘I don’t know when that might be, but I’ll take you up on it.’

Billy was dozing in the back seat of the four-wheel drive as Jamie pulled up at the Mantra.

‘Say goodnight to Billy for me,’ she said softly. Jamie got out of the car, opened the back and returned with a parcel.

‘I will. This is by way of a souvenir of your time in Darwin. I hope you like it, it’s one of Auntie Nellie’s paintings. Let me know your plans.’ He leaned over and kissed
her cheek. She didn’t move but her eyes closed in pleasure and he brushed her lips with his. ‘Thank you, Jamie. Thank you for everything.’

In the morning she called Andy. ‘Well, the Crossing was a bit of a dud. Beautiful, serene, empty. The Crossing’s a sort of weir, a wall with no sides. Tricky with water running over it. But who knows what went on. Maybe Topov fell off it, maybe he walked too near the bank.’

‘And on the other side of the Crossing?’

‘Interesting country but who’s to say what Topov did or even if he was there. I took a heap of photos. It has a kind of distinctive landscape. Perhaps I’m getting my eye in. It all looks so different from when I first arrived. Jamie has really opened my eyes.’

‘Is that so?’

She could hear the amused tone in Andy’s voice. ‘So is he planning a trip to Sydney anytime soon?’

‘I don’t know, Andy! I hope so but it’s unlikely. He’s such a dish. But more, a lovely man with integrity and intelligence and he’s so interesting to talk to. I mean, not just about Aboriginal culture, but everything. And most importantly, he makes me laugh. Not belly laughs, but he has a gentle humour.’

‘And a son and a family.’

‘Yes,’ sighed Veronica. ‘No wife though, she died. So, I think he’s lonely even though he has hundreds of relatives. But Andy, it makes me seriously wonder what I ever saw in Eddie. He is such a selfish egotist. What was I thinking when I hooked up with him? I don’t think that I ever had an intelligent conversation with him and now we can’t even work together.’

‘Well, unless you’re planning to move to Darwin, that’s unlikely to happen.’

‘Hey, enough of me,’ said Veronica. ‘Tell me, what news on Marta?’

‘Ah, yes. I almost forgot in the machinations of your love life …’

‘I wish. Go on.’

‘We have her current address and phone number.’

‘Yay! Where is she? Is she still in LA? Should we go and knock on her door?’

‘We’ve tried ringing, but all we get is a woman saying she doesn’t know Marta Johanssen. But I’ll keep trying. I’d hate to send you all the way to Lake Como for nothing.’

‘Lake Como! Italy?’

Andy chuckled. ‘How about that? She must have retired there.’

‘That’s a pretty upmarket place to live, isn’t it? She must have done very well in the film industry to afford a place like that, although I’ve never heard of her. Well, it’s all very confusing.’

‘I’ve couriered her a package, tapes of our show and a long letter detailing what we know and why we want to pursue this story and assuring her that you are a person of the highest integrity.’

‘Are you serious? About me going over there, I mean?’

‘We have the budget now, if you recall.’

Veronica was stunned. ‘I won’t say no. Gosh, Darwin to Lake Como. Bit of a jump. Now we just need to find Madame Olga.’

‘She’ll be long gone, I imagine. She must have been pushing fifty when the expedition set out,’ said Andy.

‘Yes, you’re right. Still, it’d be interesting to find out how she ended her days,’ said Veronica. ‘Colin said that she had a couple of daughters. Perhaps you could find them.’

‘I think it’s going to be hard to find out about anyone unless they kept in touch with Marta.’

‘Or John Cardwell.’

‘Somehow I don’t think that would’ve happened,’
mused Andy. ‘As you say, the whole project came to an ugly and tragic end so I suppose they all went their own ways after that.’

‘So the final scenes of the story rest with Marta. I hope we can get her to talk to us,’ said Veronica. ‘I wonder what she remembers of the last night at Wild Man Crossing.’

C
LOUD OBSCURED
V
ERONICA’S VIEW
as the plane began to descend. When it broke through the cloud cover, mist swirled through soft rain and mauve haze above the grey industrial city beneath. The scene looked utterly bleak and she realised that her eyes were still used to the bold, bright, strong colours of the Northern Territory. What a change this was from the warmth and openness of the outback.

She’d barely had time to adjust to being back in Sydney after her trip to the Top End when Andy had called her into his office.

‘Glad you’re back. I’m looking forward to seeing your footage.’

‘It looks good. Hard not to get great shots as everything is so scenic. I just wish I had more specific stuff that
related directly to Topov’s expedition, but at least now I have a sense of how it must have been. I’d love to go back and see more of that part of the country.’

‘And more of Jamie McIntosh?’

She sighed. ‘He’s lovely. But I’m here, he’s there. Now, what news do you have? Any luck with talking to Marta?’

‘No. We still haven’t spoken to her.’

‘I’ve left that to you.’ He slipped a piece of paper across his desk. ‘We found her because she did some small roles in Hollywood so she still gets residual payments from SAG. Here’s her current address and phone number.’

Veronica glanced at the paper. ‘Lovely Lake Como. Do you think she’d know George Clooney?’

‘I’ll ignore that comment. She also has an address in Los Angeles and one in London. Let me know what she has to say. That will determine our next move. If she agrees to talk to you I’ve got an ace cameraman in the London office on standby. Give Geoff the word and he’ll zip over to the Continent.’

‘I’ll call her after I’ve checked the time difference.’ Veronica’s mind was spinning as she tried to plot what to say to Marta. Three residential addresses. That was interesting. She hoped that Marta would be willing to hear her out and not dismiss her because the Topov expedition was a distant, brief episode in her life.

When she rang the phone number, a woman’s voice, very clipped and curt, finally answered it.

‘Pronto.’

‘May I speak to Marta Johanssen, please?’

‘Scusi?’ There was a pause. ‘There is no Marta Johanssen here.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t know her married name. She was Marta Johanssen when she was an actress. Is she available, please?’

‘Who is speaking?’

‘I am Veronica Anderson. I work for Network Eleven television in Australia.’

There was a brief pause. ‘Momento,’ and the phone was put down with a clatter.

Veronica heard voices speaking in rapid Italian and at last there was a response.

‘Hello? This is Marta Luccosa.’ The accent was difficult to pin down, European but musical. It was the voice of a mature woman but it was light and curious and sounded as though laughter came easily to it.

Veronica introduced herself and briefly explained what she was doing. ‘I know this must be a bit of a bolt out of the blue after all these years. I’ve just come back from the Northern Territory and I’ve been to Brolga Springs. It’s a stunning place,’ finished Veronica.

‘Yes. I have special memories of the scenery,’ answered Marta. ‘Tell me again, why are you interested in our little excursion all those years ago? I received a package but I haven’t looked at it thoroughly.’

Andy’s parcel probably hadn’t even been opened, thought Veronica. ‘It’s to do with the history of the Australian film and television industry. I know how little the outback featured in documentaries and films in the fifties and, when I heard the story of Topov and his brave idea, I thought it would be an interesting part of the whole story. Especially the films that didn’t get made because the landscape defeated the filmmakers. It would be wonderful if we could see some of the film Mr Topov did shoot.’

‘There wasn’t so much. But I doubt any film exists anywhere. It was a wild idea and we were all crazy to go. Though it had its moments.’ She hesitated. ‘How did you hear about this?’

Veronica chose her words carefully. ‘Some of my professional colleagues are film and TV veterans who met
Colin Peterson at a dinner and he mentioned the trip in passing. That sparked my interest.’

‘Oh, I see. Have you, yourself met Colin? How is he? We haven’t been in touch for several years.’

‘He seems well. I met him briefly but his reminiscences are sketchy. I was hoping you could perhaps tell me what you recall of the trip.’

‘Right now? I’m sorry I have no time, my dear. I am leaving for a luncheon party in my honour tomorrow. Besides, it would take days to drag through all that scenario.’

If Marta thought she’d put Veronica off, she was caught by surprise with Veronica’s response. ‘Of course. I can imagine you’ll need time to think about things. I was planning to be in Italy next week. Is it possible we could meet?’

There was a short hesitation. ‘I couldn’t say …’

‘I’ll call you again and give you my details. Or would you like me to email you my background, the company I work for …?’

‘Oh, I don’t deal with such things. Dominico handles that sort of thing.’

‘Great. I’ll call back and talk to Dominico and then send him my details. I’d love to meet you Mrs Luccosa. I feel I know you.’

‘And why might that be?’ She sounded bemused rather than put out.

‘I read a reference to your visit to Brolga Springs homestead in Mrs Johns’s diary in the archives in Darwin. And do you recall the little Aboriginal girl, Doris, whom you met there? You gave her a silver bracelet.’

Marta was silent for a moment. ‘Yes. I remember her,’ she said softly.