The Thousand Smiles of Nicholas Goring (4 page)

"It wasn't bribery," Nicholas said, correcting him. "It was a reward."

"Whatever. It meant I got to come see you – at
last
…"

The two of them looked fondly at each other, and Nicholas said something soft that was meant for Robin alone.

Dave was feeling just as fond, but he took the opportunity to turn to Charlie and quietly ask, "That guy at the bar next to where I was standing … You know him?"

Charlie took another mouthful of beer, and discreetly lifted his gaze as he did so. "Yeah – know of him, anyway. Ted Walinski. Works as a surveyor."

"Huh," said Dave. "Never even heard of him."

"Why d'you ask?"

"He knows me! Well, my name, anyway, and what I do." Dave shrugged. "I don't suppose it matters, but if I meet someone through the business, I try to remember them, you know?"

"That's the smart thing to do," Charlie agreed, before they turned to more interesting concerns.

The next morning saw Dave driving down towards Cunnamulla, with Nicholas beside him and Charlie and Robin in the back. Nicholas's smile had a happy anticipatory kick to it, as it always did when they were heading for the waterhole. Charlie's usual cheerfulness was in full bubble, and even Robin had put his phone away to engage with the countryside and his companions.

"So, what's this place called?" Robin asked at some point about an hour into the journey.

Charlie replied, "It doesn't have a white-fella name."

"What's its black-fella name, then?" Robin persisted.

Dave glanced at Charlie via the rear-view mirror, but Charlie was the last person to take unnecessary offence when someone was genuinely interested and willing to learn. Nevertheless, Dave said, "We call the Indigenous people around here ‘Murri', Robin, yeah?"

"Oh. Yeah, okay. What's its Murri name, Charlie?"

Charlie grinned at him. "Only your Uncle Davey and me know that."

"What, not even Nicholas?"

"Not even Nicholas," Charlie confirmed. He seemed to ponder this for a moment, and Dave himself was prompted to wonder whether or when that should change. They'd kind of coasted along together on the current arrangements for a few years now – but who would he and Charlie pass the Dreamtime knowledge to, when it was time?

"What about –" Robin continued. "I mean, isn't there a tribe that belongs there?"

"Nah, there was but they're lost to us, mate. I had a friend, he was the last of 'em. He's the one who passed the songs to me. And I passed them on to Davey, because he was the one who found the place, when I never could."

"Wow," said Robin, gazing at Dave with a new level of respect.

Dave turned his head for a moment to acknowledge Robin with a rueful nod – and he caught Nicholas's proudly glowing grin in the corner of his eye on the way back. Dave had been staggered and humbled when Charlie first suggested all of this, and Dave remained so now. He caught up Nicholas's hand from where it rested on his thigh, and without taking his eyes from the road lifted it to his lips for a kiss. Nicholas returned the favour, bringing their joined hands over to his own mouth to press a kiss to the back of Dave's hand, before returning it to the wheel and his hand to Dave's thigh.

"Okay," Robin continued once they were done. "So we're gonna be holding our own … like, mini corroboree or something?"

"Well," said Dave. "Charlie and I are."

"But I can watch, right?"

"I'm afraid not, Robin."

Charlie offered, "Some of it, he could, Davey."

Robin was unimpressed. "I bet you let Nicholas watch!"

"Huh," Dave huffed. "Yeah, but I shouldn't. Strictly speaking. So, don't tell Charlie, okay?"

Charlie just guffawed, as if he'd known it all along.

Nicholas diplomatically said, "You and I, Robin, we'll do the right thing and sit this one out."

Silence.

"It's
important
, Robin," Nicholas continued. "It's not just for fun."

"Yeah riiight …" Robin drawled, turning away to stare out the window.

They just let him be after that. But from what Dave could see, Robin was doing more pondering than sulking. So maybe that was all right.

They stopped for lunch in Cunnamulla, indulging in cheesecake afterwards for no better reason than that they wouldn't be eating such things for a while. Then Dave filled up the Cruiser with petrol, and they headed west.

About half an hour out of town, Dave saw a sand-coloured Land Rover Discovery parked on the other side of the road, facing towards them. He slowed down a bit to see if anyone was in trouble. Nothing seemed wrong with the vehicle at least. However, the driver wasn't in sight.

"Call of nature?" Charlie surmised.

"Doesn't look like a flat tyre, anyway," Dave said.

"Careful …" Charlie murmured when Dave slowed down further.

"Yeah," he replied shortly. "Nicholas. Can you see anything on your side? Scan, like, the full one-eighty. Robin, you have a look, too."

"All right." Nicholas sounded a bit puzzled, but he obligingly shifted in his seat, and the two Englishmen looked around. "I can't see anything but scrub and dirt. Robin?"

"Nothing, Uncle David."

"What are we looking for, exactly?"

But then just as they drew near the Land Rover, a figure stepped around from the far side of it, with a thermos and cup in his hands. It was the surveyor who'd spoken to Dave in the pub.

Dave let out a pent-up breath, and pulled to a stop, powering down his window to talk to the man. "You all right? Walinski, isn't it?"

"That's right, Mr Taylor." The man lifted one hand to push his hat back on his head, the better to hold a conversation. "Ted Walinski." He fixed the cup back on the thermos, and then reached to shake Dave's hand before offering a general nod to the others.

"You're all right out here? Not broken down, or anything?"

"No, she's right. Just felt like a cuppa, and didn't want to wait for Cunnamulla. Thanks for checking, though."

"No worries." Dave nodded, and after a beat of silence that wasn't filled, he said, "See ya round, then."

"Yeah. Thanks again!" Walinski stepped back, and lifted his hand in farewell.

Dave pulled away, and quickly eased up to his regular speed. He kept half an eye on the rear-view mirror, though, and noticed that Charlie had turned to watch as much as he could through his side window. Not that Walinski was doing anything more than pouring himself another cup of tea.

"All right?" Dave said to Charlie as the Land Rover receded to little more than a dot.

"Yeah," Charlie replied, resettling himself.

Nicholas was watching Dave with wary curiosity, but obviously knew better than to ask with Robin in hearing distance. And Dave wasn't even sure how much he wanted to tell Nicholas about ambushes and kidnappings and other nefarious things.

After another moment, Charlie turned to Robin. "D'you want me to teach you one of the songs your Uncle David's gonna be singing at the waterhole?"

"Hell, yes!" was the delighted reply.

Although some of the approach to the waterhole still felt counter-intuitive, Dave pretty much had the hang of it by now. There was a place where he always felt he had to turn right but knew he had to turn left, and another place where his instincts were to turn left which was actually correct. There was a worn old ridge of rocks like a skeletal spine poking out of the ground that he had to follow – it even had a kind of arrowhead formation at the far end – and he'd have to ask Charlie about all of that, because if he had the meaning right, the formation might actually feature in one of the songs. Then he had to pay careful attention to feel the gentle rise of the ground and drive at the correct angle up across it – and there would be nothing for a while, absolutely nothing. But then, finally, just as he was beginning to really give in to the doubt, the Land Cruiser would crest the edge of the wide flat valley that cradled their waterhole, and he would marvel at the fact that he'd managed the impossible yet again.

Nicholas and Charlie each let out a long sigh of relief as if they'd hardly even dared breathe for the past five minutes. Dave chuckled, and they did, too – and Robin was looking around him in vain for a miraculous change in the landscape, and asking, "What? What happened? Where are we?"

"We're almost at the waterhole," Dave said, shifting down a gear and then easing the Cruiser across onto the long shallow slope.

"It's right ahead of us," Nicholas added, pointing. "See the denser foliage there? That's the treetops breaking above ground level."

"No …" Robin answered uncertainly, leaning forward as far as he could to align his sight down Nicholas's arm.

"Never mind. We'll be there in a few minutes. Just keep watching."

"What I reckon," Dave said conversationally – "not that I did anything more than high school geography. What I reckon is that a meteor hit, thousands or ten-thousands –" He looked doubtingly at Nicholas.

"Tens of thousands," Nicholas supplied.

"Yeah, that many years ago. And the meteor created this whole big crater – though it's been so long that it's fairly worn down now. And the meteor made the original hole there, too, and maybe it became a sinkhole, or opened up a cave system or something. And the depth of it means it's right near the underground water table, and
that's
what feeds the actual waterhole."

"Yeah … ?" said Robin, apparently taking all of that in.

"Did you do geology?" Dave asked him.

"Yeah, a bit. I get what you're saying."

"Cos there's very little rain out here, hardly any run-off. But the actual waterhole itself is always full. It's always at the same level. So I reckon the water table somehow replenishes it."

"That's awesome," said Robin.

Dave laughed. "It is pretty awesome," he agreed. They were almost there now. He turned to the left once he could see the cliff edge, found the track that led down into the waterhole, but then pulled the Cruiser up and parked it nearby. He looked around at his companions. "It's Robin's first time here. What d'you say we walk down there, so he gets the full impact?"

"Absolutely," Nicholas said, his eyes as bright as his beautiful smile. He was already opening the door and swinging those long legs out and grabbing up his Akubra, all in one smooth move. The others followed suit, and a moment later the four of them were crossing over a slight ridge and then following the worn old layer of rock that served as a track down into the waterhole.

They walked in silence for a while, feeling the slightly cooler temperature as soon as they were below ground level and out of the direct sun. The cliff wall climbed steeply above them, a rich reddish-black, the edge of it sharp against the bright blue sky. Soon they reached the twist in the track that took them back around to the right.

Nicholas was grinning in anticipation, though even Dave knew it was the wrong season to be expecting to find anything more than the hibernating pupae of his butterflies. "Isn't this marvellous?" Nicholas asked Robin in hushed tones.

Charlie chuckled under his breath –

But Robin shivered. "It's kind of … well, not creepy, I guess."

"There's a magic here," Nicholas said.

"Okay, it's creepy," Robin concluded.

"It's not … familiar," Nicholas offered. "But you'll get used to it. Anyway. David belongs here, and so does Charlie, and they're happy that we're here, so the waterhole will be, too."

Robin was looking somewhat sceptical.

Charlie tilted his head as if considering or listening, and then announced, "Old man grunter, he's happy that you're here. This is his place, see?"

With more politeness than belief, Robin asked, "He's the Ancestor, right?"

"Right. He's sleeping down deep in the waterhole, he's a long time dreaming …"

Which, despite his obvious efforts to restrain himself, made Robin shiver all over again.

Dave tried another tack. "Well, how much d'you remember of your geology, Robin?"

"A bit."

"See the colours of the cliff walls and the rocks? What kind of stone d'you think that is?"

Robin scrunched up his face for a moment as he looked around. "Iron ore … ?"

"Exactly!"

"Which goes to make steel, doesn't it?"

"Yes! Well. I don't know for sure that it's iron ore, but that's my guess." They were walking through the trees and ground cover now, and then at last they were out in the open and approaching the jewel-bright pool of water itself. "I think the meteor – if that's what happened – drilled down into here."

Robin gasped. "You mean, it might still be down there, at the bottom of the pond? The meteor itself?"

"Maybe."

"Well, haven't you swum down there, to try to find it?"

The three adults were all completely taken aback by the notion.

"No," said Nicholas. "We don't disturb anything we don't have to."

"But –" said Robin.

"The Ancestor is dreaming down there," said Charlie. "It's not for us to wake him."

"But –"

"Anyway, the water's not safe," Dave concluded rather flatly. "Don't drink it, all right? We hardly even take a dip when we're here."

Robin sighed, and scuffed one sneakered foot through the dirt. "All right, all right," he mumbled.

A moment's silence fell heavily through them.

But then Nicholas said, with barely controlled excitement, "Shall I show you the butterflies? They're in their pupal stage at the moment."

Robin smiled at him indulgently, and peace returned. "Yes, please, Uncle Nicholas." And Dave watched as Robin slipped his hand into Nicholas's and the two of them headed further past the pool, past the old rockfall, and on towards the wattle.

When Dave announced he was going to head up and fetch the Cruiser, Robin got all panicky again. "You're not bringing it down here?!"

"Yeah, I am."

"But – how?"

"Down the same track we just walked."

Robin cast a wide-eyed stare at what little they could see of the old layer of rock through the foliage, and especially at where the track turned a corner near the bottom.