Pearced (34 page)

Daniel 'ah-em’s' for attention, he stands as if about to address a conference.  “Thank you all for taking the time to help me figure this out,” he offers sincerely.  “I need to know where this journey leads,” he looks nervously down at his hands, “I can't ask any of you to follow me.”  He runs his fingers through his quiff, “it could be a dangerous trail, probably a bit late to say this.”  His eyes searching us all in turn as if asking us all for an OK. “We have no idea what we’ll find if we find anything at all, but for me,” and he looks over at me earnestly, “I need to know.”

“Are you kidding?” This from Nigel.  We all mumble our own version of ‘we’re coming with you, we’ve come this far and few things are as scary as Tharie's driving!’ To which Daniel agrees emphatically nodding his head, voices overlapping and our spirits lifted as we talk over each other.  Joking, none of us notice the noise until it becomes a loud hum, and we are enjoying chocolate, very few things trump that.

My phone buzzes.

EC: “Have you seen Henry? He’s not eating properly,” Jack Daniels and kebabs not classed as proper diet according to Mum?

TC: “I’ll speak to him” and try to remember where he keeps his Jack stash at Mums.

EC: “He leads an unhealthy life Catharine, you’re his Sister, tell him” here we go.

TC: “He helps build the set Mum, that’s almost like going to the gym” I thought that was a good point.

EC: “Hardly” clearly I am wrong.

TC: “You worry too much” I regret it as soon as I press send.

EC: “You’re my children, what is my job if I don’t worry about you?!” Wafer thin ice.

TC: “See you when I’m home Mum” bloody hell.

We sit finishing our well-earned rest, getting up the momentum to move finally, and the thrumming sound resumes.  Flying low over us and quite slowly an old twin prop with one engines acoustic running slightly out of sync with the other.  As a drummer, I notice rhythm.  I’m suddenly trying to calculate how slow an aircraft can go and not fall out of the sky, it's slower than you think, but fail, and continue tracing its direction.    Bernoulli's Theory I think.   It appears to us that the pilot is checking out our small posse of travellers.  Hoping we don’t look like serious antiquities robbers, or bandits, we begin our reconnaissance with just a slight feeling that somewhere, someone knows exactly where we are. Nobody appears nervous at all so this feeling is passed to me like the mood of a rider to her horse.

That reminds me,

TC: “Jinni, boys and cats OK?” Please say yes.

JG: “All fine here, and you?” Phew.

TC: “Will catch up when I get home” she'll get a big hug too.

The Professor is busy reading the standing stones his glasses are perched at the end of his nose, studying their markings and language.  When the light aircraft flies over us again, it's banking wildly the tip of one wing very close to earth.    The pilot must be very skilled, because straightening out he comes back round for a second time, but this time much, much lower.  We all stop breathing for a time and stare in disbelief as the tiny plane begins a descent toward us. “Should we do something?” Liza asks to no one in particular, as the aircraft hits the ground to land in a soft bounce.  Its marshmallow soft tyres kick up a huge cloud of dust and it has an impressive effect a film director would love.  It shields the scene, adding drama and tenseness, with a new character emerging.

“Stan?” From Liza

It's what writers might call an
exciting incident.

“No, let’s wait and see what he wants first.” Replies Daniel.   It’s then that I notice Stan has come beside us and has a hand on a gun holstered across his body inside his jacket. I look at Stan’s face and he’s unflinchingly looking at the craft hurtling toward us now finally on the ground as if he’s not noticed me standing there at all.  I know that high alert focused look, Harry my horse does that too when he hears something he can’t see.

The little plane comes slowly bobbing along on old bouncy shock absorbers, to a stop sideways no more than 10 metres from where we’re standing.  And now we see it closely I’m surprised it is in any condition to get in the air at all.  Rusty and dented, its cabin has one pilot and in the passenger section there is seating for six people at the rear.  The vinyl is ripped and the whole craft is covered in a patina of filthy dust and oxidation.  Stan stands down and relaxes and Daniel lets out the deep breath he’d been holding in his lungs.  From the far side a tall man jumps from the plane, a young man judging by his posture and agility. He strides in long quick steps toward us in a cloud of dust that is just beginning to settle from his ungainly landing bathed in sunlight.

“Hello! Everyone.” A huge confident toothy white smile presents to us, “I’ve come to offer my help.” He swipes the air in front of his face to clear the dust away only now do we see his face clearly.  Daniel rushes up to him, Stan noticeably relaxes his stance further and goes back to checking his equipment. I hear him exhale, how long was he holding his breath for I wondered? “Thought you could use someone to keep you out of trouble Danny.”  A warm friendly smiling man.

“Kurt!” Daniel approaches and gives the guy a massive hug and slap across his back, which must have hurt, boys!  Kurt has an easy casual way about him with an almost permanent smile and creases around his grey/green eyes.    He is tanned and outdoorsy looking.  A working hunter-type, well built with good paces.  Tall and muscular, with floppy unruly curly dark hair, which he makes no attempt to control.  He is the antidote to Daniel, I think to myself. 

Daniel is neat and tight and obsessively organised.  Everything in its place, like his hair and clothes, and his office desk. Daniel has an unnervingly stunning face, delicate features, full soft lips and smooth skin.  In contrast Kurt is craggy, his skin is hard and hands callused like mine from manual labour.  His face is very handsome, but unlike Daniel it’s been left outside long enough to and become weathered like patio furniture.  Their eyes are the same, except Daniels are the colour of a stormy sky overlaying the green and Kurt’s are brighter, like antique jade, opalescent.  Kurt’s clothes are worn and faded like himself, his cargo trousers have many pockets undoubtedly filled with survival tools and hand held useful equipment, a boy-scout type chap certainly.  He has a huge utility penknife with many pull out gadgets and his wallet is a bulging scuffed canvas by Diesel.  

Daniel keeps a neat black folded wallet from Gucci In black.
Daniel embraces the man and close by a comparison is unavoidable, remarkable similarities in their features, but this man is quarter a head taller that Daniel and much broader and wider with a muscular frame much easier with his body more relaxed.  “My older Brother,” Daniel introduces him to me first, “We're all very happy to have you here Kurt,” and he hugs him in a massive rugby tackle. They growl and shout at each other like a two person scrum.

“Kurt,” Stan shakes his hand, visibly relieved, “glad you could join us.”

“You knew he might come?” Daniel asks Stan, with a grateful expression, Stan’s thoughtfulness is appreciated, not a surprised look, but one of you’ve done it again, above and beyond.

“Stanley e-mailed me and told me about your expedition Danny, he thought I might like to join you.” Kurt pats Stan on the back like a puppy
whose training has meant the learned new tricks are now perfect. Not a condescending gesture but one of respect. Stan is clearly embarrassed.

“Took me an age to get here too.” he looks at his watch, it's a huge orange faced diving watch, then up at Liza, and there his gaze stops…

“Well, we're glad you're here Kurt.” Kurt is not quite listening, he's still staring. Liza shakes her ponytail, and pretends she has something to attend to in the car.

Snapped out of his momentary daze, Kurt speaks, “I was in Nova Scotia, so it took me a while to get here.” He smiles a great white friendly smile, “working.”

“Working?” I ask.

“Salvage Tharie, shipwrecks, are my expertise.” Sounds interesting.  Looking around us, “so, now we are six.” he says.

“Kurt, I’m Tharie, would you like something to eat or drink before we continue?” I offer, like a roadie, nothing is too much trouble. I could re-string his guitar too, but he doesn't have one. I glance over at Liza, she's thinking the exact same thing, metaphorically.

“I know who you are Tharie”, he says warmly, “and yes, I’d love a shot of JD and a sandwich if you’ve got one.” half in joke.
“We didn't bring any alcohol with us.” Liza steps in, her pupils dilated in obvious attraction, clearly glad there’s a new boy in our team, and a very handsome rugged one at that.  So like Daniel and so unlike him too.   Liza unties her ponytail, and swishes her long blonde hair in the sunshine to great shampoo-commercial effect, and reties it.  Repositions her backpack and checks her reflection in the car window, a tiny boyish frame, well-toned and tanned too, this of course is code and Kurt knows the message is for him.    Daniel rolls his eyes at me with a smile, he’s noticed too. Yes, I think to myself, we’d never be so gross in public, remembering with a huge grin.

“I have some.” I pull an old hip-flask from my back pack, “for emergencies,” I declare laughing.  Kurt takes a long swig appreciating I have provided the exact brew he asked for, and is happily biting into a Wensleydale cheese and carrot pickle sandwich on granary. I do make a mean sandwich even if I say so myself, I check myself from being too smug, I don’t do cooking, so I eat a lot of sandwiches, you make enough of them, you’re bound to get good at it.

“Well?” Daniel asks to the group looking around at us all, “we all ready?”  A growing cacophony of the affirmative emanates from the group and I surmise this means let’s go! There’s another wave of customers for my home made sandwiches and bananas, then we leave.

Kurt grabs Liza by the hand in a friendly flirty manner “you’re with me gorgeous.” He says, introducing himself, and they walk to the standing stones to join the Professor which is to be our start point. Liza makes no fuss, she just merrily tags along beside him, trying to keep up.  Not sure I’m hearing correctly but I’m almost certain she’s telling him she rides dressage and her core frame musculature is well defined. I imperceptibly shake my head…hopefully.

Bloody hell.

The Professor is already part way through a thorough examination and has taken hundreds more photographs with his digital camera. I take detailed shots of all the markings on my iPhone just in case we’ll need them further down the track, plus they are very attractive markings, and I’m looking for a new logo for Milk&Honey.  Nobody asks him but Nigel begins explaining his findings like he’s in a lecture hall, so no interrupting, we are sure about that.  “These three stones share some of their messages with the earlier one, they have definitely been left here as the second marker because it refers to the ‘starting stone.’  The one with the noise of falling water, and that’s where we found the first marker.”

Liza is describing the waterfall to Kurt, and I’m guessing, judging by the look on his face, he’s disappointed he missed it, and remembering my own encounter, I couldn’t agree with him more.  I feel a sudden flash of heat over me as I do indeed recall the waterfall. 

I check my Dad’s gold watch,
its 11am.

Is it too soon for more tea?

Chapter twenty-six, Friday
:
1november2013, the team

The sun is almost at its hottest as it approaches midday, satisfied that our provisions will last the night and into tomorrow.  I head the Landrover toward the landmark the map describes to us: ‘a rocky outcropping in the vague shape of a bird in flight’ sits about four miles in front of us according to our heading.   We get as close as we can to the mountain with the vehicle surrounded by rocks.  Pausing briefly we pull over and we all pile out of the car grabbing our bags and backpacks as we go, well almost all.  Liza and Kurt are now sitting in the back of the Landrover laughing with each other.  She shoots me a happy look and I’m glad she’s found a man she can relate too, she likes them hands on and outdoorsy. Bet he could drive her horsebox too.  I march, so I find myself ahead of our pack, I can’t dawdle or walk slowly, it’s not in my nature. Daniel walks beside me, his long legs easily keeping pace.  “Getting hot,” he says, and just as I’m about to agree I catch his meaning and he looks at me in
that
way.

Girls, you know exactly what I mean. 

And all of a sudden I feel a drenching inside, washing down from my brain to there.  A heavy feeling drops inside me, a delicious feeling of little explosions within my body, I can’t hide I want this man. I glance behind me, we’re at least hundred metres in front of Liza and Kurt, chatting and laughing, approximately two kilometres an hour...stop thinking. They are not paying attention to us, actually, they're only interested in each-other.  “I forgot to ask you whether you liked your Birthday present Tharie?” His hand is on my arse and my breathing gets sharper.

“My present?” I can’t think, or talk cohesively, this man.  What he does to me.

“Old Blackie.” he says smiling as his fingers stray inside the top of my waistband.

“I love it, she drives like a dream, how did you manage it..?” And his hand is in my jeans and under my arse and his fingers are working their way forward and my brain stops dead.  Daniel takes my hand and leads me behind a mesquite bush and rock, he kisses me hard, like a man whose thirst is suddenly quenched and he drinks mouthful after mouthful until he’s satisfied.  “Stan lifted it for me from your driveway.” I am turned on. “I had a chap I know restore it.” he kisses me, running the tip of his tongue along my lips, “A labour of love he called it.” His fingers are in my hair.  “Happy Birthday.” He whispers in my ear, so close his breath sends a shock wave through me and I tremble.