‘I know a few people. Who are you looking for?’
‘A Mrs Pargetter. I have a package for her.’
Hamish did his double-take. ‘Talk about coincidence! A friend of mine stays with Mrs Pargetter when she’s in town. I can take you there after breakfast, if you like.’
Ana smiled her thanks, and they shared a grimace as they started on the lumpy porridge. ‘I’d like to let her know I’m coming first,’ Ana explained. ‘It’s a rather important package.’
‘I can call her for you,’ Hamish offered. ‘Can I ask why you’re delivering by hand? It’s a long way from New York.’
Ana felt the need to impress this helpful young man. ‘It’s from the United Nations,’ she said, then coloured. She thought she sounded a bit pretentious. ‘I mean, I happened to be coming home and the ambassador asked me…’ She trailed off. ‘I should wait until I see Mrs Pargetter herself.’
Hamish looked at her quizzically but didn’t enquire further. They spent the rest of the mealtime chatting pleasantly and were suddenly guiltily aware of Marlene hovering like a mascara’d vulture, ready to clear the table so she could move on to service the rooms.
Hamish rang Mrs Pargetter and told her he was bringing someone to meet her.
‘Come around eleven,’ the old lady said. ‘We can have some morning tea.’
Hamish reported this to Ana. He was enjoying her company and wasn’t ready to lose it just yet. ‘If you like, we’ll leave a bit early so I can show you around the town,’ he suggested with a proprietorial air. ‘New York it ain’t, but it’s nice enough, as these places go.’
‘I come from Shepparton,’ Ana replied, smiling. ‘That’s not exactly New York either.’
They set off down the main street, Hamish carrying Lusala’s package. ‘It’s quite heavy. What is it?’
Ana had to confess that she didn’t know, but she told him the story of Lusala Ngilu and the tea cosies.
‘Moss told me about the tea cosies,’ he said. ‘In fact, Mrs Pargetter is knitting one for me at the moment. Apparently it’s a sign that I’m approved of.’
‘Moss?’
‘A girl I went to school with. We’ve been working on something together.’ Hamish was being evasive. He wasn’t sure how he wanted to identify Moss to this interesting new acquaintance. ‘She’s not a girlfriend or anything,’ he added, wishing he hadn’t as he saw Ana’s embarrassed smile.
‘The gardens look nice and green,’ she said, randomly.
‘Astroturf,’ explained Hamish. ‘Thanks to Mrs Pargetter’s nephew. A strange sort of bloke.’ At the thought of Sandy, he stopped. ‘Look, I know it’s an awful cheek but if the parcel is some sort of presentation, I’m sure there are people who’d like to be there. Mrs Pargetter is a much-loved lady. Would you mind very much if we take it back to the hotel until we see who’s around at the moment?’
Ana would have preferred to return to her family but couldn’t help wondering what Lusala would have done. ‘You know her best. Whatever you think.’
So Hamish returned to the hotel with the parcel, asking 308 Marlene to put it in the safe.
Mrs Pargetter had been watching for them and opened the door before they knocked. She was a bit flustered to see Hamish with a young woman, and looked at him severely.
‘Come in. I’m not expecting Moss until the weekend. We’re going to practise her new song. Moss sings beautifully,’ she added for Ana’s benefit.
Hamish made the introductions, and Ana sat down shyly on the proffered seat. Without her parcel, she felt something of an intruder.
‘Thank you for seeing me, Mrs Pargetter,’ she began. ‘I’ve just come back from New York. I’ve been working for the United Nations.’
‘What a coincidence.’ The old lady clicked her teeth in amazement. ‘I work for the United Nations too. From here, you understand. I couldn’t go all the way to New York. There’s Errol to consider. And far too much crime, from what I’ve seen on television. How long have you been working for them, dear?’
‘About eighteen months. I was on a student internship.’
Mrs Pargetter gave a smug little smile. ‘I’ve worked for them since before you were born. But don’t worry,’ she added kindly. ‘We all do our bit in our own way.’
Ana nodded, not quite sure where to go next.
‘Ana knows the quartermaster, Mrs Pargetter,’ Hamish volunteered, eyeing off the pumpkin scones.
The old lady looked at her guest with new respect. ‘You know Mr Lusala Ngilu?’ she asked. ‘Tell me, what’s he like?’
Ana was happy to oblige. ‘He’s not tall, but he’s… a person of stature.’
Mrs Pargetter nodded, her own judgement confirmed. ‘Stature. Precisely. Go on.’
‘He’s very well respected and good at his job.’
‘I’m sure. Very thorough, I imagine.’
‘True. And he’s considered a man of great foresight…’
‘Exactly. He was the only one to have enough foresight to snap up the tea cosies. Not everyone saw their potential, but Mr Ngilu-he knew right away.’
‘He did, Mrs Pargetter, and he wants you to know that every one of them has been used for a good purpose.’
The old lady was puzzled. ‘What an odd thing to say. Of course they would be.’ She stood up. ‘Now the kettle’s boiling. Let’s have some tea and scones.’
While they drank their tea, Ana talked some more about New York, and Hamish managed to glean from Mrs Pargetter that Sandy would be back soon. Spurred by his new confidence, Sandy had offered to cook a traditional Christmas lunch for them all out on his property. The only problem, the old lady explained, was Finn.
‘Sandy said he was going bush, but we’re not sure how long he’ll be gone. You can never tell with Finn. Mostly it’s only a few days, but I’ve known him to be gone for as long as a month. Still, you’d think he’d be home for Christmas.’
When her visitors left, Mrs Pargetter went straight to the phone. ‘Make sure you come up as soon as you can, Moss, dear,’ she warned. ‘Your Hamish has been here with a young woman. She seems like a nice enough girl, but you never know.’
‘He’s not my Hamish,’ Moss protested, but she was intrigued. ‘Who is she, Mrs Pargetter?’
‘An envoy, as we call them in the United Nations.’ The old lady lowered her voice. ‘Perhaps we shouldn’t talk too much over the phone. You never know.’ She had recently become quite fond of spy novels and knew all about surveillance.
24Finn alone
THE TWO SPECK WAS ABOUT thirty kilometres downstream from Opportunity. Here, just before a sweeping bend, the stream broadened and ran noisily over pebbles and coarse sand. Finn had found this camping spot years ago and came here when even his limited social life in Opportunity became too much. Sheltered and isolated, the place seemed ideal, but on his first visit he soon became aware that he had a neighbour. Jim was an old prospector who lived in a lean-to that teetered above the steep embankment. Resenting Finn’s intrusion, Jim lurked malevolently in the bush for several days but was finally driven into the open by the smell of Finn’s tobacco. ‘Spare a smoke, mate?’
Finn obliged and they sat in silence, watching the twin spirals of smoke fade into the blue haze of the eucalypts.
‘Ta, mate,’ said Jim before returning to his lean-to.
Thereafter Jim and Finn understood each other, and on Finn’s irregular visits they spent many an hour in affable silence, squatting on their heels beside the campfire, drinking billy tea or smoking roll-your-owns. Sometimes, quite out of the blue, Jim would have a ‘bit of a yarn’, as he called it. His voice was creaky with disuse.
‘Know why they call it the Two Speck?’ he asked Finn once. ‘Because they reckon that’s all they found when they panned here-but me grandad used to say they found more than they let on.’ He touched the side of his nose and nodded towards the river. ‘Either that or the gold’s still here. If it is still here, I’ll find it, my bloody oath I will.’