The Thousand Smiles of Nicholas Goring (17 page)

"
That's
who you work for?" Dave demanded. "
That
tosser?"

"Well. He certainly helps pay the bills."

"And that's all that matters to you, is it?"

"No," said Harvey, with no heat or resentment.

"Did his dad just
give
him the company to see what kind of mess junior would make?"

"No," Harvey repeated in exactly the same tones. "That's really not how any of the Reddy family do business."

Dave took a breath, and found himself lifting a hand to clutch at his forehead just as Nicholas would when trying to cope. "Look. I'm trying to protect this sacred place, these unique butterflies – and this guy you're working for, all it means to him is a chance to score a point in a dick-waving contest."

After a pause, Harvey suggested, "A healthy sense of business competition –"

"Right."

"They're business men, Mr Goring Taylor. They keep score with dollars. Not inches."

Dave sighed. "Well, I guess I knew it was all about money, didn't I?"

"Not just for Mr Reddy," Harvey argued. "It's still money and jobs and infrastructure for the people of Cunnamulla, the Murri, and that whole area."

"Yeah, I know. And it's steel for my next new Land Cruiser."

"Yes, sir." Harvey left a pause. "Does this really change anything, Mr Goring Taylor?"

"No," Dave had to admit. "No, I guess it doesn't." He was just about to wind up the call, feeling entirely lame, when Harvey asked a question of his own.

"Mr Goring Taylor –"

"For heaven's sake, just call me Dave."

"Thank you. Dave. Have you seen the forecast for the coming rains? It's going to be one hell of a Wet season."

"Right …"

"Is the waterhole near the floodplains?"

Dave huffed a bit, and asked weakly, "Are you trying to trick me into revealing the location?"

"No, sir. I'm just passing on a concern."

"Well. I'll look into that, then."

"Right," they each concluded, before saying goodbye and hanging up.

Dave went back to the table and sat down by Nicholas. Robin had finished his dinner and wandered off somewhere, probably to his room, so Dave just launched right into the topic forever preying on his and Nicholas's minds. "Fred Harvey just said we should look at the forecast for this year's Wet. D'you know about that already?"

Nicholas was reaching for his laptop even as he replied with a frown, "No. Well, I'd heard it was going to be somewhat wetter than usual, but … are you saying he was trying to warn us about something?"

"Sounded like."

"God … All this time we've been fretting about anthropogenic threats, and it may all come down to a natural hazard instead."

Well, that was a new word for Dave, but he got the general gist. Within moments they were looking at a map of the Channel Country, the vast area through which the Georgina River, the Diamantina River and Cooper Creek drained into Lake Eyre. "Kati Thanda," Nicholas corrected Dave, giving the lake its proper Indigenous name.

"Kati Thanda," he agreed. "But the waterhole's hundreds of clicks away from all this, isn't it? A long way south-east of Channel Country."

"Yes …" Nicholas agreed slowly, his fingertips tracing out the waterhole's likely location. They'd at least managed to narrow down the area which contained it. "If it was going to be affected, we'd have weeks of notice. These things don't happen quickly."

"But what would we do in those weeks?"

Nicholas cast him an uneasy glance. "I'm not sure …"

Dave persisted. "What about the water table, and the pool at the waterhole? Would a heavy Wet affect that?"

"Possibly. Though the water in the pool has remained level no matter what the season when we've visited, so I'm hoping that –"

"But if it floods," Dave persisted. "If it reaches high enough to affect the wattle and the butterflies."

Nicholas blanched, though his long fingers were as nimble as ever, darting about the keyboard and calling up information about the weather forecasts and likely effects. "If it floods, then it would have happened before at regular intervals. Perhaps every hundred years or so; that kind of timescale."

Dave was trying to understand so hard that his head was hurting. "Does that mean the butterflies have survived other floods, though? If there even have been any. Or does it mean the butterflies have only been there since the last flood? In which case they'd be threatened by another one."

Nicholas glanced at him, full of misgivings.

"But, no – they're in the songs, aren't they? So they date back as far as the songs do, which could be thousands of years … Though I suppose the butterflies could have been added to the songs when they first appeared at the waterhole … Oh God, I just don't know."

"I don't know, either."

"I've been thinking," Dave continued, "we really should try to create a backup, you know? Transplant some of the wattle, and try to establish the butterflies elsewhere. Maybe there's a sheltered waterhole somewhere on the Aboriginal reserve that they'd let us use."

Nicholas had sat back now, and was watching Dave carefully, with his hands resting cupped in his lap.

"We could fence it off, and there'd be someone there who'd help us take care of them. I know you haven't had much luck in bringing the butterfly eggs and such back here, but the climate wouldn't be so different out there, would it?"

There was a small but very genuine smile on Nicholas's face by now, and his eyes were glowing with affection. Once Dave had finally wound his way to a halt, Nicholas paused for a beat, and then leaned in and quietly teased, "You and your backup plans."

"Is it a good idea, though?"

"Yes. Yes, of course. And if we succeed with one colony, then we should try for more as well. I wonder if I could find someone out there who actually has an aviary …"

"I'll ask Charlie to ask around."

Nicholas's smile had widened, but also turned poignant. "You know … I'm so used to thinking of the waterhole as … well, as
ours
. And the butterflies, too. I almost … I almost didn't want to bring any of the butterflies back here. But we're going to have to share them, aren't we?"

"Yes," Dave solemnly replied, "I think we are. But we've had them to ourselves for years and years, haven't we?"

"So many good memories there … The first time we made love. The first time we kissed properly."

Dave felt his cheeks heating, and other parts of him, too. "I know." He added with a wry grin, "It's not like we have to share
that
."

But Nicholas wasn't ready to laugh about it. "Lazing about, getting to know each other … All those long conversations we had, all those words and thoughts meandering along the riverbeds, diverting into billabongs, flowing out into lakes …"

Dave snorted a chuckle. "That must have been you. My conversational skills are more like a dry old creek bed."

"They are not! And anyway, we found other ways to communicate … other things to learn about each other."

"Oh, is that what we're calling it now?" Dave retorted, his chuckle becoming a laugh.

Nicholas sighed. "I wish we could go out there again, just you and me alone for one last time."

"I know. But we really need to get a surveyor out there, and Lisa said she's gonna come, too, didn't she? And her partner."

"I suppose …"

"And I don't know that I want to give Ted Walinski yet another chance to track us there. We should try to keep control over when and how this happens. Shouldn't we?"

"Yes – but can't we skive off ‘real life' for a few days? Don't we deserve that? We could just drop everything and go tomorrow."

Dave frowned, not sure exactly how seriously to take Nicholas. This might be just a verbal whimsy of his, after all. "What about Robin? You're not suggesting we, uh … I dunno, leave him behind with Denise and Vittorio or whatever?"

While it was fairly obvious from Nicholas's defeated expression that he agreed they couldn't abandon Robin even to the care of their best friends, unfortunately Nicholas didn't voice a denial.

"Uncle Nicholas … ?" Robin was standing in the doorway, frozen in the act of bringing a used mug back to the kitchen.

"Oh God," Nicholas groaned – though he sounded more annoyed than apologetic. "I'm sorry, Robin, of course we won't go without you."

"It's all right," Robin replied, stiffly on his dignity. "I know where your priorities lie."

"Well, it's not as if we're going, anyway, so don't worry about it."

"Nicholas …" Dave murmured, wondering at this unusual ungraciousness.

"I'd understand," Robin said. "You can dump me at Denise's, if you want."

Nicholas shifted around on his chair to confront Robin a little more directly. "How can you possibly understand? You're asexual, remember?"

Robin flushed, and came further into the room, clutching at the mug. "I know about
love
, remember? I'm just not into sex."

That dragged a growl out of Nicholas. He sounded almost
agonisingly
frustrated. "I might agree that you know about love, if you didn't always fall for the inaccessible. Me. Lisa. That's not love, it's infatuation."

"Oh right," Robin scoffed. "So it was infatuation you felt for Frank, was it?"

Nicholas sniffed. "Ah, but Frank wasn't so inaccessible as all that."

"Nicholas!" Dave protested, knowing that if Nicholas were thinking clearly he'd be a lot more discreet.

A guilty look glanced off Dave, and then Nicholas continued a little more reasonably, "One day, Robin, someone you care for will be ready, willing and able to return the compliment … and you should at least
try
."

"Sure! And one day, Nicholas, you should
try
with a woman."

The two of them glared daggers at each other.

Dave sighed, and sat back in his chair. "That's enough from both of you," he said.

And maybe they even agreed, for the silence resounded. But Nicholas did nothing more than cross his arms, and Robin just lifted his nose and looked haughty.

"Look," Dave continued. "I have no idea what either of you can say to make this better, so I reckon you're just gonna have to agree to disagree. All right?"

Nothing.

"Isn't that what unconditional love is all about? Not, uh … imposing conditions on each other," Dave finished lamely.

Robin stared hard at Nicholas, as if expecting him to make the first move. But Nicholas, despite allegedly being the more mature one of the pair, pressed his mouth into a flat line and looked elsewhere. After another long moment, Robin put the mug down on the kitchen counter rather heavily, and returned to his room.

And Nicholas wouldn't unwind again even for Dave's sake.

It finally happened the very next morning. Dave's world collapsed.

Dave and Vittorio had planned a trip out to the camping store at Enoggera, and Dave figured he'd better take Nicholas and Robin as well, rather than leave them to stew in each other's company. The four of them made a rather subdued group wandering the aisles while Dave advised Vittorio on the Agostini family's camping needs. Each of them were wheeling trolleys, as Dave took the opportunity to collect a few necessaries for himself as he went.

It didn't take long before Robin and his smartphone hung back long enough to lose them, and then at least Nicholas relaxed a little.

"What's happened between you two?" Vittorio asked in his blunt Italian-Australian way.

Nicholas shrugged in reply with a weak wry smile. "Dave will tell you it's the same old same old. We can't agree to disagree."

"You'll be all right," Vittorio concluded.

"Both too stubborn for our own good," Nicholas said.

"You'll work it out."

"I don't know …"

They'd reached the aisle of day packs and hiking packs, which lit Vittorio up like it was Christmas. "So here we have," said Dave, "your basic backpack porn …"

That at least earned him a guffaw from Nicholas and a chuckle from Vittorio. And after Vittorio had found himself the perfect backpack, the three of them wound on through the store, and finally met a marginally more sociable Robin at the registers. A short while later they were in the car park, shifting their purchases into their vehicles. Once that was done, a brief silence stretched.

Vittorio, meaning well, offered, "Robin, do you want to come home with me and help me organise all this? I'm sure Denise would be happy for the company. The girls have been nothing but mischief lately, but they always behave for you."

Robin scowled, though he answered politely enough, "No, thank you, Uncle Vittorio, but please say hello to Denise for me."

"All right, no worries."

Dave shook Vittorio's hand, and conveyed his thanks for the thought with a feeling expression.

He was aware of Nicholas standing a little way behind him, his stance a bit off-kilter. "I wish my father were here," Nicholas commented rather vaguely.

"Not long now," Dave reassured him, checking that the Cruiser's rear door was firmly fastened, and mentally trying to do the maths. Was Richard due to arrive in ten days now, or nine?

"David –" Nicholas was reaching towards him, helplessly too far away.

Dave was already turning towards him, was already starting to fear – when Nicholas seemed to just fold down into a wrecked heap on the ground. For a millisecond, for an eternity, Dave stared in horror.

Then –
"Nicholas!"
– he was crouching at Nicholas's side, hands trying to secure him, gaze desperately trying to find the things he needed to know, the things he needed to do.

Nicholas's hands were at his head, and he let out a wail that seemed all the more stricken for being strangled.

Robin echoed the wail, louder and stronger, and then cried out his name –
"Nicholas!"

Dave kept one hand on Nicholas – he couldn't not be hanging on – but his other hand was fumbling for his phone.

Vittorio was a step ahead of him. Even in the middle of that moment, Dave didn't forgive himself for that. Vittorio had already found his mobile, dialled 000, was saying, "Ambulance, please.
Immediately.
"