La injerencia de los recursos financieros

Nick manages to get Geoff Harvey’s boat for the day. He and Liam are up early, loading gear. His camera is stowed safely in the small cabin that, apart from a canvas canopy, is the only part of the boat protected from sea and sun.

‘The others should be here soon.’ Nick looks at his watch. ‘You got that last esky?’ Liam is tall and lean, his dark hair curling like a wave over his forehead. It’s like looking into a mirror, though the image there is of a long time ago. Liam knows a lot more than he did at that age. When Nick was fourteen, he didn’t have a clue. ‘Have you put on sunblock?’

‘Leave off, Dad. You’re worse than Mum.’

‘We’re here!’ Pippa’s daughters Sophie and Isobel tumble across the strip of sand that separates the carpark and the jetty. The others follow. Pippa and Caly carry a large orange esky between them. Jamie Watson balances a crate on his head, his other arm wrapped around a young woman carrying a smaller esky.

‘We’re only going out for the day,’ Nick says, eyeing each container as they set them alongside the boat. ‘Caly, my son, Liam.’

Caly looks drained and very small, standing alongside Pippa and her two robust girls, and Jamie Watson, who is tall and muscular. He has his mother’s good looks, without the scars and the pain in his eyes. ‘Have you met Jamie, Frankie’s boy, and Rohanna Conway?’ Nick sees the interest in Caly’s eyes, meeting Jamie. ‘They’ve just graduated from WAAPA with flying colours.’

‘WAAPA?’ Caly asks.

‘West Australia Academy of Performing Arts.’

‘They both play and sing,’ Pippa says. ‘Maybe you could do something together?’ ‘I’ve heard a lot about you, Jamie,’ Caly says.

‘All good I hope. You’re a muso and an activist?’ Jamie asks. Caly nods.

‘It was brill what you did at the hub. I would’ve loved to do that. It’s gone totally viral. My friends think it’s so cool,’ Rohanna says. She’s younger than Jamie, perhaps seventeen. She’s one of those women who cannot help but delight; each time Nick sees her he’s drawn in by her joie de vivre

– her cropped hair streaked with orange and purple dye, her face adorned with rings and studs. The message on her t-shirt is clear, a human dressed up like an ostrich with its butt in the air, its head in the sand. On one rounded haunch the words: My friends say I’m in denial. On the other: But that’s a total lie.

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sounding as though he means it. ‘And too much, Mum getting her gear off.’

‘I did and I’m proud of it,’ Pippa says. ‘I can’t believe all this crap over a few women posing nicketty. You can see more in Rickson’s newsagency any day of the week. And we had good reason– a clean and peaceful place, that’s all we want. Isn’t that better than a shit-pile of toxic plutonium? Anyway, flashing our gear’s about the only way we women can get some attention.’

‘Go Girls!’ Rohanna yells, raising a clenched fist in solidarity. ‘Frankie said she was with you in spirit but she’s always been scared of climbing things. Abseiling is great. Remember Jamie? On camp? I was shitting my pants at first, but once you learnt to trust them, it was really cool. Still, Frankie was there to drive the bus.’

‘Where is your mother? She’s late.’ Nick’s annoyed.

‘Oh, I forgot. She’s not gonna make it,’ Jamie says. ‘She’ll catch us later, with Nan. She says give her a ring when we get back. They’re organising a feed.’

‘And Geoff’s on one of his five-star junkets to Broome,’ Pippa says.

‘Sorry for Cynthia,’ Jamie says quietly to Caly as they walk down towards the boat moored off the jetty. Caly is touched. Cynthia has been gone a month and the invisible chords that have connected them are still pulling at her. She thought she had escaped them, only to find they are as strong as ever. Bound together since the death of Madeleine by a kind of shame, and the overwhelming need to protect one another and themselves. Never talked about directly of course, that would have been too raw. A conspiracy of silence. Surely neither of them wanted to leave so much unsaid. But how were they to start? Now there is so much pain, and so much she will never know.

Several other boats are being backed and rolled down the slipway. People yell greetings before climbing aboard and heading out onto the water.

‘A perfect day for it,’ an old man calls as Jamie unhitches the rope that holds them to the land and leaps aboard.

The forecast is for a late sea breeze. The water spreads like a turquoise-coloured bed sheet ironed flat and smooth. Puffs of snow-white foam float in the wake of the boat. The town is a speck on the horizon. Nick feels his frustration evaporate.

He and Pippa had talked the trip over.

‘It’ll be good for her. She loves it on the water and she’ll be with friends. She can’t hide away from the world forever. She’s got to come out sometime,’ Pippa had said with her usual certainty.

The kids move forward and sit with their legs dangling above the surge that rises where the bow ploughs into the water. Jamie and Rohanna are perched on the rear rail of the boat. Nick stands at the steering wheel, Caly and Pippa beside him, their faces hidden behind dark glasses, large hats.

136 ‘Whales, Dad,’ Liam screams.

‘Well spotted, Liam.’ Three humpback whales float on the surface, the water white with spume. Nick points. A dozen plumes, as if spot fires had broken out along the horizon: the cows travelling south with their newborns. ‘The last time we were out here, must’ve been a few months ago, there were hundreds of them,’ he says. ‘You know, when they breach like that, other whales can hear them way down deep in the ocean. They’re signalling to one another.’

‘I love watching them teach the babies how to breach,’ Pippa says. ‘The little ones copying everything the mother does. Their little flippers slapping up and down. I loved Ocean Blues. The footage of the dugongs birthing and caring for their babies was so beautiful. And the whales, of course.’

‘Pity Geoff doesn’t feel the same way,’ Caly says. ‘I don’t get it, Pippa. Why stay with him, when you know very well what he’s up to?’

‘Look who’s talking!’ Pippa says, suddenly annoyed. ‘Okay, he can get carried away, but it’s Geoff who’s put this town on the map. Without him we’d still be in the dark ages. The middle of nowhere. Nothing happening.’

‘I’m sorry. I’ve misunderstood. I thought you didn’t want the hub,’ Caly says. ‘You were right there, with us.’

‘It’s not a fucking career for me, Caly. So, I don’t want the uranium dumped here. That doesn’t mean my entire life has to be taken over. I have to live here. I can’t just pack up and go, like you. What was the point of the masks, if everybody knows who we are?’ She looks away from them, out over the sea. ‘You speak about him as if he doesn’t care. He loves coming out on the boat. He only wants what’s best for this town. And I know he would never do anything to hurt us.’ She turns back and says, ‘Unlike Satler, who couldn’t give a shit as long as it makes a dollar. Geoff really loves this place.’

‘You’re right in that, Pippa. Outlays and profits, that’s what’ll count at the end of the day. Anyway, you’ve both got rotten taste in men, if you ask me,’ Nick says.

‘Well, I didn’t,’ Pippa snaps.

When she moves away, he asks Caly, ‘How are you feeling?’ ‘How do you think? After that tirade.’

‘Geoff Harvey’s her husband. If she admits he’s a total shit, then what?’ He places a hand lightly on her arm. ‘I wasn’t thinking about that. I was thinking about Cynthia. Are you okay?’ He releases his hand and adjusts the steering wheel. ‘She would’ve liked the funeral, simply done, natural, with just her very good friends.’ Caly doesn’t answer. ‘And you. The song– it was perfect.’

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didn’t want a big public thing.’ Tears well in her eyes. ‘Of course she wanted Maddie’s Lakme– “The Flower Duet”. Cynthia loved that song more than anything. Having to sing after that perfect recording, Anna Netrebko and my mother– I swear it was the hardest thing I ever did.’

‘To hear the two of you, your mother and you– it was such a privilege to be there. No sign of Stephen at the funeral?’

‘But Ruth came, for them. You know Stephen’s quit, they’re moving south.’

‘Bloody hell.’ He looks at her again. ‘I didn’t get a chance to speak to her. How did you feel about him not being there?’

‘Stephen’s away. In the States. He loved Cynthia. So very much. I know that.’

‘I’m so sorry, Caly. It’s such a shock. I still can’t believe it, and on top of everything else. You know I’d do anything, if I can help in any way.’

‘I keep thinking of all the things I could have said, that I should have said.’

‘I know. When Dad died all the shit peeled away and I was left with this overwhelming sense of my own failings, asking myself all the time why I couldn’t appreciate him when he was here. Not that you didn’t appreciate Cynthia. She was so proud of you, and your work. And she knew how much she meant to you, Caly.’

‘The parents I never really had? She sure filled in some of the holes. The sad thing is whatever she did, however she looked out for me, it was never enough. You know Nick, I still don’t know, she would never tell me about my father. And stupid me, I was still hanging out for something, anything from my mother.’

‘Difficult to be born like that, so driven, so much talent. It can’t have been easy for her.’ ‘That’s what Cynthia always said. But why have a child?’

‘Why indeed? What do you think of Liam?’

‘He’s lovely, Nick. He reminds me of you back then. How old is he?’

‘I was twenty-one when he was born. While you were off carving out your brilliant career, Andrea and I were making babies.’

‘My not so spectacular career, as it turns out.’

‘Everything you do is spectacular, Caly. Even your cock-ups,’ Pippa says, handing her a light beer. ‘Nick?’

‘Better not. We’re about twenty minutes from the islands. We can anchor in Lonesome Bay. Take the dinghy ashore in time for lunch.’

‘Turtle, Mum, look,’ Pippa’s girls shout.

‘Pippa, can you take the wheel?’ Nick says, grabbing his camera.

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The turtle dips its head and dives. Nick follows the trajectory with his camera, sees the little head extending above the swell, reaching for air. It makes him want to weep, every time, touches his soul, the vulnerability of the turtle’s femaleness. A gentle creature, yet so tough, so resilient.

‘Can I look?’ Jamie asks.

‘Sorry mate, there’s nothing to see. This isn’t a digital camera. Old-fashioned, eh? I have to take it back, develop the film, print them out. Do you want to have a go?’ He points to where the turtle last appeared, helps guide the camera in Jamie’s hands. ‘You’ve got to be a few steps ahead of the subject. Imagine in your mind their next move. Mostly you won’t guess right, you’ll be wrong. But when you guess right, that’s when you’ll get the photograph you are after. Like when you are playing your music, exactly the same. The secret’s not to think, but feel. Okay, it’s all yours now.’

Chased by larger fish, schools of small fish wheel in the translucent water. Flying fish use the flat surface as a runway, take off and fly metres before plummeting back into the sea. The wild call of seabirds heralds the sandy shores of Lonesome Island.

‘I only took a couple,’ Jamie says handing over the camera. ‘I don’t think they’re any good. Every time I went to take it, she dived. I like digital better, you can delete the bad ones.’

Nick brings the boat into the lee of the bay. Jamie tosses out the anchor. Below them, the reef extends from the boat towards the shore like the skeletal remains of a gigantic prehistoric beast. The water slaps gently at the side of the boat as they lower the rubber dinghy into the water and load everything they need for the picnic.

‘I’ll swim from here,’ Jamie says. In the end they all swim towards the island except Nick and Pippa, who bring the inflatable with the supplies.

‘It’s warm,’ Rohanna yells from the water. ‘So many fish.’

In that soundless world, secreted below the surface of the sea, they see lionfish, their fins floating like the folds of a flimsy ball gown, and tiny clownfish bathing among the spidery tentacles of sea anemones. A giant manta ray dislodges in a puff of sand to rush away from them. Glittering damselfish dart among the delicate corals. As they come closer to the shore, large fish with pearly pink scales and big friendly eyes nuzzle their legs; curious, not afraid of their presence.

On the sandy beach they pick from the platter Pippa’s prepared, rolls filled with cheese, cold meats, salad.

‘Let’s walk across to the other side of the island, Mum,’ says Sophie, the youngest. ‘Remember Izzy, when Dad took us we saw that dead sea snake on the beach?’

‘Can I go with them, Dad?’ Liam asks. Nick nods. ‘I’ll come,’ Rohanna says. ‘What about you, Jamie?’

139 better here.’

But the kids are determined to find out for themselves. Under the shade cloth he’s put up, Nick lies back, resting his hat over his face. Listens. Excited voices fading as the kids leave with Pippa.

‘Mum could’ve killed you, she was so pissed off about those photographs,’ Jamie says. ‘I don’t blame her.’ Nick hears Caly’s voice, careful, edgy.

‘Why’d you go with an old fella like him? An’ he went with your own mother too.’ She doesn’t answer. ‘Mum hates Vincent Satler more than anything.’

‘There’s a lot to hate.’

‘After what he done to her, you know,’ Jamie says.

‘There’s nothing I can say,’ Caly says. Nick notices the pain in her voice. She knows.

‘Geez, it’s hot,’ he says, sitting up. Caly and Jamie jump, thinking that he’s dozing. Nick rummages in the esky and offers cool drinks but the young man leaps up.

‘I’m going in again. The reef’s changed, for sure, but it’s still better than close to town. Not over there, but. That heatwave in 2010– nothing left but a whopping bit of bleached reef.’

Nick hands Caly a bottle of water. ‘How’re you doing?’ ‘You don’t need to keep asking, I’m okay, Nick, all right?’ ‘Sorry, it’s just I heard Jamie giving you the third degree.’

‘He’s fine. He’s like her, isn’t he? You and Liam, Frankie and Jamie. The DNA coming through. Do your girls take after you or Andrea?’

‘Andrea, luckily for them.’

‘Why did you two break up, Nick? You seemed so compatible, so solid. Out of everyone I never thought…’

‘A stupid fling at a conference in Ontario, she retaliates with a neighbour, and on it went from there.’ Nick downs his water in a few gulps. ‘Stupid. Careless.’

‘I dreamt last night, Nick, about my father,’ Caly says. ‘I’m running, that slow-motion kind of running, like you do in dreams. I’m calling, but my voice catches in the wind and I run and run, yet I never get any closer to him.’ Nick stands, extends his hand and pulls her onto her feet, embracing her until her sobs subside.

‘Coming in?’ he asks.

They swim strongly until they are above the reef, leaving behind them on the beach all those troublesome words.

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The sea is choppy. Nick guides the boat as it slaps into the waves. Dolphins chase them in the backwash.

‘You probably don’t remember, when we were kids, maybe nine, ten years old, the oil tanker

Korean Star spilt hundreds of tonnes of fuel onto the beach.’ He points with his free hand to the coastline stretching south of the proposed hub.

‘No, I don’t remember that. Do people have any idea of what they’re in for? This will be a super highway. Hundreds and hundreds of ships moving back and forth, and not only oil,’ Caly says.