The river is Down (23 page)

Cindie, elbows on knees, rested her chin on her folded hands. She closed her eyes. Why did people have to play games? Betting games on other people's lives? Why had Jim, her own friend, had to play up to Erica to-night while serving the steaks from the grill? Why, oh, why, did she herself feel so down-hearted now?

She thought of Nick.

Every man to his own choosing, of course! Erica, and Bindaroo? No, it would be the other way round. It would be for Erica—Nick and Bindaroo. Everything in one hit.

'Jim?'

'Yes, Cindie?'

'It would be an honest business deal, as far as Nick is concerned, wouldn't it? I mean, about Bindaroo? You remember you said

'I'm still saying yes. Nick's not the man to risk a fine reputation for the sake of more money, or a little more power.'

`Perhaps . . she began slowly.

`Perhaps what? So far all I've told you, Cindie, is grapevine talk only. The men, in their dry humorous way, call it the Big Marana Muster. Nicholas Brent and Co. and Bindaroo.'

`Perhaps he loves her. Really loves her, I mean. That would account for everything. She's very beautiful, isn't she, Jim?'

'A man would be a fool to deny that, Cindie. Or imagine it would not be a good combination all round. We have to be honest to ourselves, don't we?'

Cindie thought for quite a long time.

`Jim,' she said at length. 'Nick will give me a permanent job here. At least, Mary thinks he intends that. He must trust me or he wouldn't do that, would he? Now I find myself sort of peering into something so very private about his life.' She dropped her hands to her lap, and Jim took one of them in his own powerful grip. 'I wouldn't want to harm him, if he loves her ' she finished.

`You can't afford to think that way, sweetheart,' Jim said softly, cradling her hand. 'There's too much at stake for your mother. See how you've got even me rooting for that little lonely lady? Your duty lies there.'

'Ye-es—' She accepted this—reluctantly—now.

`Listen, child. I might give an ear to what the men say; even join in their jokes with them, but I don't give out. I say nothing. Nick's not the only one round these parts can go dead-pan. Besides—'

'Yes?'

'You've kind of won my heart, Cindie. On account of those violet eyes, I guess. I want to help. do what I can.'

In spite of those words Cindie was troubled. She was Nick's secretary now. She had to be loyal to him, out of duty. How could one divide a sense of duty into a two-way prong? How, when out on the spinifex plain, could one look two opposite ways at once?

`It's just an idea I have,' she said. 'If Nick is in love with Erica he -mightn't see anything wrong about what the Alexanders have done—not going to the help of the Stevenses, and all that. People in love are blind. I know, because I was once that way myself. It's awful when the blinkers come-off—'

`But you saw daylight in time?'

`Yes. I think the Alexanders might think that Nick ought to be a station owner: or at least a substantial partner in a station, in order to be Erica's equal. She's supposed to

be the biggest catch in the north. Almost an heiress, or something.'

Jim's laugh was a little hollow.

`You wouldn't be making excuses for Nick, Cindie girl? Well don't. Nick's the master of his own destiny. He's not to be bought, I'll tell you that flat. What he does, now or in the future, he does because that's the way he wants it. He's that kind of man. If he and Erica go into double-harness it won't be the Alexanders who run the stable. It'll be Nick!'

Cindie turned her head to look round at the aisle seats where Nick and Erica sat. They too were disregarding the film and were talking softly together. This intimacy had an unexpected punishing effect on Cindie.

`Jim,' she said, suddenly resolute. 'I'm going on to Bindaroo . . . when I can. When I'm no longer a prisoner. I'm going to do something about my mother's share in that place. I'm going to fight, or even plot and plan. If these are the business rules that are good enough for Erica and Nick—then I'll use them too. At least my boss is the one who is setting me an example!'

Jim squeezed Cindie's hand. `Atta girl! That's the spirit! Cindie lass, I regard myself as an honest man, but if someone tried to edge me out of my stake in Baanya, and I do have a small one there, I'd fight that person with any weapon—that wasn't lethal. I'd call it fair and square, too!'

`Ssh! Look, Jim. Dicey wants your help. The reel's run out

The film, when it came to an end, was greeted with handclaps and whistles.

Next came the concert items, each one greeted with loud acclaim whether it really merited it or not.

To everyone's delight, Hazel and Co.'s charade was the hit of the evening. Whatever the inhabitants of the construction camp had said or thought about the wives earlier, they showed uproarious good-will now. The applause and congratulations brought the house down.

The chef, with an unexpectedly magnificent supper, capped all.

Tor my part,' Hazel said loudly to as many people as were in hearing range, 'he can stay behind his rolling-pin and closed door for the rest of his life. That's if he can keep this up.'

Only Nick and Erica did not stay to the very end of the party.

Like royalty, they had come late. Like royalty, they went early: but not before Nick made a speech and thanked everyone—those who did the work, and those who came to enjoy the efforts.

As he went through the door, his hand under Erica's elbow, Cindie looked at his tall square-shouldered back.

I will not weaken, she promised herself before the two figures disappeared into the silence of the night and stars outside. Then she wondered why she found it necessary to protest to herself. Specially as she had Jim's warm and loving heart on her side.

On Monday morning the world of the camp went into

another minor convulsion. Not a canteen party, this time.

Nothing is ever boring in this place, Cindie thought, bewildered, when at lunch time Mary told her the latest news.

Nick had had a radio call from Baanya. The Overtons wanted Jim Vernon back at once: river up, or not. To make sure of it, they were sending a couple of men out to rig up a flying-fox.

The manager at Baanya had told Nick the sheep-stealers were around on the northwest boundary. The Baanya stockmen had found tyre marks: and some fences were down. Jim Vernon's presence was a must.

Ever since Mary had given her the news Cindie had watched the canteen door, and kept only one eye on her work. She knew Jim would come to say good-bye, but she seemed a long time waiting.

At last his tall lean shadow was thrown across the doorway and he came in, his long sure strides taking him straight to Cindie's table. Mary was away at the moment, as Nick had called her to the office again. The children had finished their work and gone home.

'This will be a temporary separation only, Cindie love,' Jim reassured her, leaning over the table and smiling down at her with his brilliant blue eyes.

How she wished there weren't half a dozen men in the canteen waiting for attention! Just her luck!

'Oh, yes,' she said earnestly. 'I couldn't bear—'

'I'll be talking to you over that air, and I'll see you when the river water goes down too. No fear of that. Baanya's not so very far away; by nor'-west distances.'

'Do you really think we'll be able to talk station matters on the air, Jim? With the rest of the world listening in?'

`Like I said before, girl—it's easy. We'll use that code.

`Remember? Holden stands for Bindaroo. We've got that one. Here's another—we'll use the name Robinson for Neil Stevens. This Robinson will be a cousin of yours, just to make it real. How's that?' His face was crinkled with amusement.

Cindie, hiding her disappointment at his departure, reached for her diary and was jotting it down. Jim leaned forward, and with his finger gently tossed her fallen lock of hair back into place. 'Guess that'll be mine one day,' he said. 'Ever heard of a man wearing a fancy thing like a charm in a locket?'

She lifted her head, her eyes a little misty.

'No. Men carry those things in the back of their watches. Lockets are for girls.'

`Thanks for the idea. If you don't come through Baanya

soon, I'll come back here and claim that keepsake.'

There were too many other people around, staring curiously at them. Cindie needed to hide her feelings. 'Please, what other code words, Jim?'

'For Nick we could use "the kangaroo in the bush". How's that?'

Cindie laughed, and the rainbow shone through in her eyes.

'How mad he'd he if he knew!' she said. 'What name shall we give Erica?'

Jim looked surprised. 'You don't give her any name, except she happens to be Enemy Number One anyway. But she's coming over the flying-fox with me. Haven't you heard? She's grabbing this chance to go through to the coast. Says she has important business to attend to

'Could it be business to do with solicitors, and station brokers? Even the Government leasing agency?' Cindie asked, full of apprehension. Her smile had faded right out of sight.

Jim shrugged, then shook his head. 'She could have just plain ordinary business, Cindie. Like everyone else. Look, child, nothing can be signed up without the Stevenses signing too. That pair are water-logged up there at Bindaroo. There's no river to cross even if someone could rig up a flying-fox. It's just one vast mud-bath.' He paused, looking down at her. 'Don't worry unnecessarily,' he advised.

'All right, Jim. I'll be good.' Her smile was a little bleak.

Jim kissed the tip of his finger, then wound it for one half-minute round that vagrant lock of hair. Cindie glanced round the room. With sudden unabashed courage she stood up, leaned across the table, and kissed his forehead.

'So long, Cindie Brown!' he said gently.

"Bye now, Jim,' she answered. 'I'll be seeing you—some day, some time---

`Soon,' Jim finished for her. His eyes held hers a minute. `Don't fall in love with Nick while you're on that skate up the road, will you?' he warned, his eyebrows dancing. 'It's easy to do, but Miss E. from Marana has a kind of lasso and hitch-lock of her own around him.'

Cindie shook her head. 'I wouldn't cross Erica's lines willingly, even if I knew how!'

`Good for you!'

He smiled deep into her eyes, once again, then turned on his heel and walked abruptly down the length of the canteen, and out through the door, without looking back once.

Cindie watched him go. She was in a vacuum which she must climb out of quickly. The men were waiting—

She hoped Jim would say good-bye to Mary over at Nick's office. Mary would be terribly hurt, for all her indifferent manner, if he neglected to do that.

That night, as Cindie helped Mary get the tea, her thoughts switched to Nick. What, she wondered, would the boss do without Erica? Feel the sudden void in his life that she herself felt right now?

'You're mighty silent, Cindie,' Mary commented dryly. 'Your sweetheart gone home so you're in the doldrums? Is that it?'

Cindie did not have time to reply, because Nick Brent was standing in the doorway.

'I did knock, Mary,' he apologised. 'I'm afraid you were clattering saucepans.' His eyes were dead-pan, and he looked tired. Hiding his feelings?

'Come in, Nick, and have a drink with us. Did you ever before know two people leaving camp could make the place seem so empty? Did they get over the fox all right?' Mary was wiping her hands on her apron before taking down some glasses.

'Everything went with precision. You know the Baanya people, Mary. They do nothing by halves.'

'Almost as perfectionist as the Alexander ' The unexpected sarcasm in Mary's voice made Cindie look at her, startled.

Nick showed no sign of even having heard. 'I'm afraid I can't stay for a drink, Mary, much as I'd like to. I've a lot to do in the office.'

Mary stopped reaching for glasses, and wiped her hands on her apron again.

`I expect you came to advise Cindie about the arrangements we mapped out this afternoon,' she said. left the telling to you, Nick. I figured out it's your business so you'd better be the one to tell her about the next exodus.'

They were all three standing, fixed figures in the small space of a collapsible house in a construction camp; hundreds of miles from the nearest road, or neighbour. Yet suddenly, in that sundown hour, the quaint room was a world of its own.

Each one's future was strangely bound to the other two by some mystery that had come in with Nick. Was that mystery Erica? Jim Vernon? Or all of them?

Nick took out a cigarette and lit it. As he did so the atmosphere came back to normal.

`Well, sit down and tell her while I go and round up those children of mine,' Mary said in a brighter voice. 'You know what, Nick? I can't stop them building barbecues and concert halls in that ten-by-ten cubby-house of theirs—ever since last Saturday night.'

`Good for them,' Nick said. 'Show's they have imagination.'

`Too much, sometimes,' Mary replied, back to her old blunt self. She went through the rear door as she spoke. Nick remained standing.