The Opal Desert (16 page)

‘I'll pour the wine.'

‘Saluté,' Tim said when Kerrie returned. ‘Hmm. I needed that. It's nice to have a bit of a break before I head back to the office.'

‘You must be busy if you have to get back so late in the day.'

‘We have a big promotion coming up in the chainstores, so there'll be a lot of long hours for a while.'

‘Yes, your father told me about your shops. Sounds very enterprising. I suppose people like to buy jewellery.'

‘Yes. People buy jewellery for presents and for themselves. Hence our marketing campaign. Jewellery fashion tends to be a bit faddy, but once something catches on everyone wants the same thing. It's been an interesting challenge.'

‘Yes. I have three stepdaughters and I know that when one of them gets something fashionable, the others will want it, too.'

‘Aren't you going to look at your ring? Dad was very pleased with the job he did.'

‘How lovely of him. How much do I owe him?'

‘Oh, he won't have a bar of that. He enjoyed doing it. And you are a friend of Shirley's. If you like, I can tell you something about the ring, although Dad could tell you more.'

Kerrie loosened the tie on the little velvet bag and tipped out the ring, staring at it in amazement.

‘Pretty good, huh?' said Tim with a smile.

‘Is it real? I mean, the stone was black and it had scratches and now it looks like new,' gasped Kerrie.

The ring glowed and sparkled as she turned it around in the late afternoon sunlight. It had a deep blue background and was shot with iridescent green but, even more stunningly, across the centre was a brilliant red-gold flash that seemed to burn as it moved with the light.

‘That's a pretty rare stone. You don't see a pattern like that very often,' said Tim.

‘How awful that someone lost it, Tim. It must have cost a fortune.' She looked at Tim, who nodded.

‘It's certainly a collector's piece. It's so unusual that it's hard to put a price on it. It's black opal, so it didn't come from Opal Lake. It's from Lightning Ridge. And, looking at the setting, it's probably post First World War. It's ornate but the gold isn't thin like that used in later rings, when gold was scarcer. Interestingly, the ring was originally rose gold, but it has been plated over with yellow gold. Dad suspects that it could have been done in the flapper era – when those wild girls liked jazzy, stylish jewellery.'

‘So the rose gold was covered? I love rose gold myself.' Kerrie studied the ring.

‘In the twenties it was considered old-fashioned, so I think that the original ring might have been made earlier. Also, because of the straight edges to the stone, I'd say the opal was cut and polished by the man who found it. It could have been put in this setting some time later.'

‘You can tell all that?' asked Kerrie.

Tim smiled at her and topped up her glass. ‘Dad is the expert. We had a long discussion about this ring.'

‘What am I going to do with it?' Kerrie was overwhelmed by the magnificent ring. ‘Should I keep it?'

‘Wear it. After all, you found it,' he suggested. ‘It would be very hard to find the original owner after all this time.'

Kerrie stared at the transformed ring in her hand.

‘I can't believe that strange black stone has turned into this.'

‘Put it on.' Tim slipped the ring on to her right hand.

Kerrie glanced at the simple gold wedding band on her other hand, which she'd worn since the day she married Milton. He'd given her a lot of elaborate and expensive jewellery but she thought even Milton would be knocked out by this ring. ‘It's pretty dramatic, isn't it?'

‘Suits you. You need to dress up and go out to show it off.'

Kerrie shook her head. ‘I don't know. It doesn't feel right to keep it. What if I put it out there, on the net, to see if anyone knows about it, and can prove it was theirs?'

‘You'll be flooded with con men, believe me.'

Kerrie put the ring on the table. ‘It's the size of an olive!'

Tim laughed. ‘It's got such a fire in it, it looks hot, doesn't it? I can study opal for hours. By the way, Dad wanted to know if you are going back out to Opal Lake.'

‘Me? Gosh, I've just got back. I'm still thinking about all I saw, and the people I met. I haven't even had a chance to look through the sketches I made,' said Kerrie.

‘Are you an artist? Great place for inspiration, out there, I'd think.'

‘Yes, it is, which is why I made a lot of sketches. Since I got home, I've been setting up a studio for myself so that I can try and turn some of them into paintings.'

‘Good on you. Be sure and send me an invitation to your exhibition,' said Tim.

Kerrie smiled. ‘I'll be happy if I can complete a few canvases that I'm relatively happy with.'

‘I like going out to the opal fields. Special people out there, too, don't you think?' Before she could answer, he went on, ‘There're some gems like Shirley, some oddballs, some creative types and those with opal fever. It's a place that affects everyone. I always feel that one's a slightly different person out there.'

Kerrie nodded. ‘I know what you mean. Do you get a chance to get out there much, or does your business keep you tied down? Do you have a family?' she asked suddenly.

He nodded. ‘An eight-year-old son. And he has two stepsisters, so he's spoilt rotten. After my wife and I divorced she married a man with two daughters.'

‘It's not always easy being the stepmother,' said Kerrie.

Tim nodded. ‘So I'm told. But we seem to have a fairly lucky arrangement. I'm very involved with my son, and I liaise with my ex-wife and her husband to make sure the little terror's not playing us all off against each other,' he said cheerfully.

‘That all sounds very civilised. I'm afraid I haven't had it so easy with my husband's three girls.'

Noncommittally, Tim commented, ‘Families are always complicated, aren't they? But I don't mind the challenges of a blended family.' He finished the piece of bread and cheese on his plate. ‘I'd better be going. Tell me, did you meet Ingrid and see her strange jewellery?'

Kerrie smiled and nodded. ‘Yes. I did. I can honestly say that I've never seen anything quite like it. Please thank your father for me. In fact, I'll phone him and thank him myself.'

‘He'd like that.' Tim held out his hand. ‘Really lovely to meet you. And enjoy that ring. I think it's meant to be yours.'

‘Thank you for delivering it, and thank your father again for the wine.'

‘Our pleasure. I'm sure we'll meet again.'

‘That would be nice.' Kerrie opened the front door, just as Luisa arrived on the doorstep. ‘Tim, this is one of Milton's girls, Luisa. Luisa, this is Timothy Cameron.'

‘Lovely to meet you, Luisa.'

Tim took her hand and Luisa murmured a perfunctory ‘Nice-to-meet-you', and disappeared indoors.

Tim gave Kerrie a smile and a wink and headed to where his car was parked.

Kerrie closed the door and went back out to the terrace to finish the last of her drink. The sun had set and it was getting cool. She picked up the ring, slipped it into the velvet pouch and put it in her pocket.

At that moment Luisa exploded through the glass doors to the terrace. ‘What is going on, Kerrie? Who was that?'

‘What do you mean? He just brought me something of mine as he was in the neighbourhood.'

‘Some delivery boy who brings posh wine!' Luisa picked up the bottle and waved it at Kerrie. ‘What was he delivering?'

‘Luisa, I don't like your attitude.'

‘Well, I don't like yours. My father's barely dead and you've already got your new boyfriend here. I bet he only likes you for your money. Boy, are you a snake.'

‘Luisa, I think you're overreacting. I had never met Tim until this afternoon.'

‘No, I'm not. Not only have you got yourself a new boyfriend – wait till the others find out about that – but what I also want to know is what gives you the right to throw me out of my own room! How dare you.'

‘Ah.' Kerrie caught her breath. ‘Well, I was going to tell you.'

Before she could go on, Luisa broke in. ‘You want us out so that your new boyfriend can move in.'

‘For goodness' sake, it's not like that at all. Tim's father repaired something for me and Tim was delivering it. And as for your room – as you've moved out, I've decided to make a few changes.'

‘Changes! My room is empty!'

‘You girls know you are always welcome to stay here, but you do have places of your own. I need the space. I've decided to turn the upstairs loft into a spare bedroom. It's huge and airy, and I was going to ask you to help design it so we could perhaps partition it off . . .'

‘Why do you need my bedroom? Boyfriend moving in?'

‘I'll ignore that silly comment. I'm going to use it as a studio. It has good light and it's on the ground floor so it's easier to move canvases and materials in and out.' Kerrie headed for the kitchen.

‘Studio? For what? What do you need a studio for?'

Kerrie's annoyance suddenly subsided and she felt strangely calm. ‘I'm taking up painting again and I need a suitable space, so I chose the most practical room, which happened to be the one you lived in as a child. You don't live in it now.'

‘But it's mine! I always knew you hated me. You're so selfish.'

Kerrie tried not to laugh. ‘Luisa, don't be silly. You've moved out and you have your own place – with your own utilities,' she added pointedly, ‘And you told me, quite emphatically, that you didn't want to be around here anymore.' Kerrie put the plates and glasses in the dishwasher.

Kerrie's calmness unnerved Luisa. Normally she could easily bully Kerrie, but this time her belligerent attitude wasn't working. ‘I don't know why you're bothering to go to so much trouble. It's a waste of time. You've never painted because you can't. I don't know what makes you think anyone would be interested in anything you'd try to do.'

‘I'm not doing it for other people. I'm doing it for me,' she said quietly to Luisa, who stomped from the room. Moments later, Kerrie heard the front door slam.

‘Round one to me,' Kerrie told herself later as she took a long relaxing bath. ‘For once I didn't shout and I didn't get rattled. And I am going to start painting.'

After she dried herself, she took out the extraordinary opal ring and stared at the shifting colours in its stone. A crystal gem, Tim had told her. Well, she wished it was a crystal ball and she could see her future in its flaming heart. Slowly she slipped the ring on her finger.

T
HE TINSEL DRAPED OVER
the faded gold star was thread-bare and wilted by the heat. Inside the hotel fly-spotted, vintage crepe-paper streamers drooped around the bar. But the small crowd gulping icy beers was in a festive mood.

‘I'm only opening for an hour, just for ice, you blokes,' Mick announced to his customers.

‘So the drinks are on you, are they, Mick? Merry Christmas!'

‘Yeah, right,' said the grinning perspiring owner of the Opal Lake Hotel. ‘Hey, Doug, how're things? Give my best wishes to Pam. And thanks for the invite, I'll catch up with you before New Year. Want a beer?'

‘Bit early in the day for me, thanks, Mick. Just came in to stock up on ice for us and Shirley. We have a couple for Christmas dinner. Backpackers. They're here in the middle of summer, would you believe? Germans love the heat, that's for sure. And Pam tells me there's someone else turning up. I remember when there was hardly anyone around at this time of year.' Doug turned to the man beside him. ‘Good to see you in town, Carl. You staying around for the day?'

‘Nah. Got a joint in the camp oven roasting nicely. Lamb, potatoes, carrots. I'm just popping in to give Shirley the compliments of the season, return some of her books and get some rosemary for my lamb, and then I'll be off. Want me to drop in Shirley's ice?'

‘Sure, thanks, Carl, if you're going that way.'

‘Did you do the red suit thing last night, Doug?' asked Mick.

‘Over at the hall, for the Christmas party. The kids had a ball. They still enjoy Santa's visit, even though they know it's me. Well, I'd better be off. Ho, ho, ho and all that.'

Back at the Golden Dome, Doug began unloading the bags of ice into the coldroom.

‘This should see us through, Pam. You're still not telling me who else is coming for Christmas dinner?'

‘It's a surprise.'

‘Not your aunt. Please.'

‘Of course not. You know that she wouldn't come out here at the height of summer.'

‘All right. Well, I hope whoever it is realises they're coming at a quiet time of year. Are they staying with us?'

Pam shook her head, suppressing a smile. ‘No.'

‘So you've persuaded one of the blokes from the backblocks to come in for a decent meal? Good on you.'

It was getting dark when the doorbell chimed.

‘That's perfect timing. Dinner's almost ready,' said Pam. ‘I'll get the door.'

She came back into the lounge room leading a beaming Kerrie who was carrying a stack of Christmas parcels.

Doug leapt to his feet. ‘Kerrie! What a wonderful surprise! What a great Christmas present you are.' He gave her a hug.

‘She's only in town for a fortnight, Doug. But it's good to see you here, Kerrie, even if it is as hot as a furnace,' exclaimed Pam.

‘You're staying with us, of course,' said Doug as Kerrie placed the parcels under the plastic Christmas tree.

‘We'll tell you about the arrangements in a minute, Doug,' said Pam. ‘First, I'd like to introduce Kerrie to our other guests, Andrea and Peter.'

The German backpackers, looking flushed and shining from their exertion and the weather, shook Kerrie's hand.

‘We have been walking about the little town. Even at night, it is still very hot,' said Andrea. ‘Excuse us while we freshen up.'

‘I hope I haven't held you up, Pam,' said Kerrie. ‘The drive took me a bit longer than I thought. This is certainly a different place in the summer, isn't it? The heat must send you into a stupor. Is there anyone else left in town, or have they all fled?'

Pam handed her a glass of wine. ‘No, there are still a few people about. Sit down and relax for a moment. I've been excited all day – so looking forward to seeing you.'

‘And I've been looking forward to this, too. Are the arrangements okay with Ingrid?'

‘Sure are. Here's her key.' Pam turned to Doug. ‘Kerrie's spending tonight here, so we can have a good old catch up, and then she's staying at Ingrid's place while she's away.'

‘Talk about secret women's business,' said Doug. ‘Who else knows you're here?'

‘No one. I want to surprise Shirley,' said Kerrie. ‘Is she coming here for Christmas?'

‘We invite her every year but of course she never comes,' sighed Pam. ‘Not that she'll be on her own. Davo generally drops in to share it with her. But you'll be our surprise present.'

Christmas dinner in the dining room of the dugout was a merry meal. Pam had baked a ham and cooked a traditional Christmas pudding. Andrea and Peter sang a duet in German, and Pam introduced a silly pass the parcel game. There was lots of food, wine and laughter, and all the guests helped serve and then clear the dishes and stack the dishwasher. Kerrie found the warmth and informality so different from the Christmas meals she'd shared with Milton, his girls and friends. Kerrie had often spent days lavishly decorating the house, and then she and Wendy would prepare a rich and extravagant meal that was never fully eaten. The final leftovers were thrown out of the refrigerator a week later. There always seemed to be arguments between the girls over the unfairness or unsuitability of their presents until they made their escape to laze by the pool while Kerrie cleaned up.

Here Kerrie felt immediately relaxed, and she could tell that the young German couple also felt at home and included on this festive occasion. In the satisfied, over-indulged, post-dinner torpor, Andrea and Peter returned to their room, Doug watched television, and Kerrie and Pam stretched out on the two lounges to catch up.

‘Any thoughts about what you want to do while you're here?' asked Pam.

‘Paint, definitely. It's too hot to go out to the opal lake again, but I have my sketches. And it's nice to know it's close by. It's an intriguing place,' said Kerrie.

‘What happened with that ring you found? Did you ever do anything with it?' asked Pam.

‘Oh, heavens, yes! The ring is actually quite stunning. I took it to a jeweller friend of Shirley's, Roth Cameron, and he went to a lot of trouble with it and did a great job cleaning it up. His son, Tim, dropped it back to me. He's a nice man. I've seen him once or twice since. He pops in for a drink occasionally when he's in the area on business.'

‘I know the Camerons. They're a lovely family. Roth still comes out a bit. But I understand Tim's taking the business in a new direction. I don't know that Tim has the same romantic passion for opals that his father has,' said Pam.

‘I'm not sure. But he did tell me quite a bit about them. Evidently I possess a rather rare and unusual stone, so I'm a lot more intrigued by opals than I was,' said Kerrie. ‘I should have brought the ring to show you, but I didn't think about it.'

‘Never mind. But you're right, every opal is unique, that's part of their charm. Each one is a total original. Doug is still obsessed with them. He started digging a new tunnel. Says it's for a wine cellar but I think it's a way of exploring in case there're opals there!' Pam laughed.

‘Handy you can add another room just like that,' said Kerrie, gazing around at the whitewashed sandstone walls. ‘Why doesn't Shirley spruce up her dugout? It's so dark and quite cramped. I'm sure there'd be people willing to help her.'

‘Of course. But the old darling likes it the way it's always been since she first moved in there with her father. She's not big on housekeeping, and with all her papers and books she'd just mushroom out to fill up any extra space.'

‘Is she still writing the history of the area?' asked Kerrie.

‘That's what she tells me. She has a lot of material and notes and taped interviews with some of the old miners. And a lot of the old characters have talked to her. Some of them took their possessions to her to look after in case they died in their camps and their things were taken or lost. She's got quite a treasure trove tucked away in that cavern of hers.'

‘I'm looking forward to seeing her again,' said Kerrie.

Even though the temperature was already above thirty degrees, Shirley had settled herself with her breakfast toast and tea outside the dugout to enjoy the early morning sun. There was no movement in the town. The store was closed, but Mick would open the hotel later.

She closed her eyes, hoping the sun would loosen her stiff joints. The sound of a car coming up the hill caught her attention. She looked at it but didn't recognise it. Slowly she rose and went inside to top up her tea.

The voice at her door a few minutes later caused her to cry out in delight.

‘Kerrie? How wonderful. This is certainly a surprise.'

‘It's your Christmas present,' called Pam. ‘She's come to see what Christmas in Opal Lake is all about.'

‘Well, it's not very exciting, but this is a joy indeed.' Shirley hugged Kerrie and kissed Pam. ‘Happy Christmas. I hope you and Doug are enjoying it.'

‘Of course. And we had a couple of German backpackers and Kerrie to help us. Couldn't have been better. Is there any tea left?'

‘Make a fresh pot, will you? There's a dear.' Shirley smiled at Kerrie and took her hand. ‘I think this is a terrific idea of yours to have Christmas here. You'll see a very different town. No tourists, except for Pam's German backpackers. It's all very quiet. How long are you staying with Pam and Doug?'

‘Actually, I'm staying at Ingrid's dugout for two weeks while she's away.'

‘Great idea. It will be a lovely break for you. Are you planning to work?' she added as they sat down.

‘Yes, I thought it would be interesting to experience a different time of year out here. I'm sure the colours of the landscape will look different, too.' Kerrie settled herself in the chair beside Shirley. ‘Truthfully, though, I couldn't face Christmas in Sydney without Milton. I didn't see the point in being a hypocrite and pretending we're all one happy family when we're not. And the girls had made their own plans and hinted that I wasn't included, and I certainly didn't want to be part of something where I wasn't welcome.'

‘Good. You're learning,' said Shirley.

Half an hour later, Doug called by to collect Pam and they set off to visit other friends, leaving Kerrie and Shirley at the kitchen table.

Kerrie leant back. ‘It's unbelievable how cool and comfortable it is in here, when it's so hot outside. The temperature must be heading to well over forty.'

‘That's the beauty of a dugout. A moderate temperature all year round,' said Shirley. ‘But I sit outside first thing in the morning to get a bit of fresh air. It might be a dry heat, but it's certainly hot. It's been fifty degrees on occasion.'

‘And here was I thinking I'd do a little open-air work! I think my paints would start to boil if I took them outside in this.'

‘That's why Ingrid's studio is such a good idea. I'm told she has skylights and shafts angled to get the best light because she works in there all day. If you wanted to work outside, you could do it early, at first light. Start before dawn and enjoy the sunrise and then come back and work in the dugout,' suggested Shirley.

‘It sounds good. I'll try it.'

‘Have you done much painting these past months?'

Kerrie shook her head. ‘A little. I know what I want to do. I studied the sketches I made here and at Lightning Ridge for hours. I know I can draw. But the painting, I don't feel so confident about what I've done.'

‘Well, you have had other distractions,' Shirley reminded her. ‘You're not the first woman to put her talent and dreams on hold for her family. You really don't know what you can do until you persist.'

‘I watched Milton. I've seen other artists who push on no matter what. I know that nothing would have held them back.'

‘They've got wives, for heaven's sake, helping them and boosting their egos!' interjected Shirley. ‘That's why.'

Kerrie smiled at her outburst. ‘Sometimes, that's true. But living with a world-famous artist was daunting. He once told me that talent takes you to the bottom of the mountain, but it's something special that drives you to climb to the peak. And that's the difference between those who put off trying, or dabble part-time, and those who tackle the climb.'

‘You made Milton happy, remember that. And you told me that he made you happy. Perhaps you're still finding excuses not to try and make that climb?'

‘I suppose so. But really, in these last few months, when I thought that I could start painting, I've had to deal with Milton's estate. There were pieces on loan, sculptures about which there were ownership disputes, others being held for possible acquisition and several commissioned works that he'd stored at a foundry. It all meant another round of disbursements and negotiations, which were time consuming.' She sighed. ‘Milton is going to be something of an ongoing project. There's even talk of a retrospective in New York next year.'