The Opal Desert (27 page)

‘That's a lovely idea. Yes. Something that's just between us,' said Shirley.

Stefan thought for a moment. ‘Tajna. Croatian for a secret, something that is concealed from others. Something that is mysterious, inexplicable, beyond understanding.'

‘I'd say that sums up our fossil,' said Shirley with satisfaction. ‘Now we have to keep Taj a secret from everyone else.'

*

Shirley straightened her back in the old chair. ‘You know, Kerrie, later that day we found some good opals further along in the band, which normally would have made us jump for joy. But after finding the fossil, everything paled in comparison.'

‘How fascinating,' said Kerrie. ‘Do you mind if I ask what happened to Tajna?'

‘We took it with us when we moved to Opal Lake.

I thought it was a lucky omen. We were so happy out here. It was a smaller community than Lightning Ridge, but helpful and friendly, the same as now. We worked on making our dugout liveable, and it's pretty much as you see it now. I've only made a few changes.'

Kerrie nodded. ‘Did you make a living from opal?'

‘We did indeed. I had my payout from work, plus a little nest egg from my father. But Stefan and I did very well with opal finds. Some years we would try our luck on the new fields. Stefan went off for a few weeks to try the Coocoran and we both spent a lovely month at Yowah. There's a kind of fever that hits and spreads when new finds are made and everybody rushes out and pegs claims. People came from everywhere.'

‘It sounds like an idyllic existence. Did you ever do anything with Tajna?'

‘No. I won't say we forgot about Tajna. But I found a safe home for it so that even if we were ratted no one could have found it.'

‘Did you ever try to have Tajna identified? You're such a researcher and so curious,' said Kerrie.

Shirley smiled. ‘Tajna was so special to us. I knew enough to know it was a femur and that it could only have come from some sort of dinosaur. Being the size it was and solid gem-quality opal, we knew it would be worth a lot of money. Stefan had agreed that we shouldn't cash it in and let it be broken up. He said it would be our little secret. It became very special to us.'

‘Where is it now?' asked Kerrie.

Shirley smiled. ‘Would you like to see it?'

‘You still have it here?' exclaimed Kerrie.

‘Where else would it be? It will take me a little while to fetch it. Put the kettle on, would you?'

Kerrie nodded, thinking what an Australian habit it was in moments of stress or jubilation, or when pondering a problem, that the kettle was inevitably put on to boil for tea.

She was busy putting biscuits on a plate when Shirley returned holding something wrapped in a towel. Gently she laid it on the kitchen table and unfurled the towel to reveal the fossil.

Kerrie gasped. The opalised fossil was the size of a baguette, and even she could see that it was obviously a leg bone. But it was the dazzling colours that mesmerised her. Even though the fossil was an inanimate object, it glittered and glowed as if it were alive. The wide, rounded ball of the joint was intense blue, shot with green peacock feathers and studded with crimson. The remainder of the shaft was filled with iridescent orange and gold bands that shimmered in the electric light.

‘Shirley! How much must this be worth in solid opal?' breathed Kerrie. ‘It's spectacular!'

‘Today? Lordy, I have no idea, maybe thousands of dollars a carat but an awful lot, not just for its opal, but because it's such a fabulous fossil, I suppose.'

‘I remember Gustav and Helen, the palaeontologists that I met at Pam's, telling me that although miners used to ignore fossils, now they recognise their intrinsic value. This one's in near-perfect condition, and it's such stunning solid opal. There can be no question that it's valuable as a scientific object as well as a gem,' said Kerrie.

‘You left out the most important reason why I would never sell it,' said Shirley. ‘And that's its symbolism. It's something between Stefan and me. Ever since I was a little girl, mining with my father, I'd wanted a dinosaur fossil. And even though we sometimes needed money, Stefan agreed that we wouldn't sell this one because it meant so much to me. So this fossilised bone showed me how much he loved me. And funnily enough, once we made the decision to keep it, we seemed to manage anyway.'

‘Would you ever sell it?' asked Kerrie gently.

‘Never.' Shirley shook her head vehemently. ‘The fossils are all I have left to remind me of Stefan.'

Kerrie felt that she should try and talk sense to Shirley. She thought that keeping such a valuable fossil in the dugout was not a very wise thing to do, but obviously it was important to Shirley to have the fossil with her, so Kerrie took a different tack. ‘Shirley, who else knows you have this fossil in here? I mean, I don't think that it's safe for you to have something worth so much in your dugout.'

‘You mean someone could burst in and bash me over the head for this?' said Shirley with a surprising degree of cheerfulness. ‘Could happen, but I doubt it. Besides, I've hardly shown it to anyone. You're one of the very few who's seen it.'

‘Shirley, I'm honoured that you trust me,' said Kerrie in surprise. ‘But really, I'm not convinced that it's a clever thing to do, keeping it here. Have you ever thought of taking it to a museum and having it properly identified?'

‘And then what?' said Shirley. ‘I'd be under pressure to donate it or put it on exhibition. I already know that it's a dinosaur femur and I'm not going to part with it anyway. No, it stays with me in the dugout.'

Kerrie was quite surprised by Shirley's attitude. ‘What about Gustav and Helen? Couldn't you ask them?'

‘No, they'll only want to put it into a museum. I just wanted to show you this fossil because it was important to Stefan and me, and I've probably told you more about Stefan than I've told almost anyone else. It must be these late-night chats.'

Shirley's bright demeanour had suddenly crumpled. Kerrie saw the frail and lonely older woman who'd been desperately hurt in some terrible way, and now had trusted and liked another woman enough to share her story. She stood up and went over to hug Shirley.

‘Shirley, all I can say is that I'm your friend and so I'll respect your wishes, even if I'm not sure that it's the right thing to do.' She squeezed Shirley's hand. ‘Now, how about I pour that cup of tea?'

The glittering fossil lay among the teapot and cups on the table. After a short interlude and a cup of tea, Shirley seemed to be herself again, so Kerrie gently asked,

‘Do you want to share what really happened between you and Stefan?'

Shirley looked steadily at Kerrie. ‘I can never let myself believe that Stefan stopped loving me, but he left me and I don't understand why.'

‘What happened?' Kerrie knew that Shirley was hauling up memories she had probably suppressed for many years.

S
HIRLEY PLACED A TUB
containing a small cumquat tree by the freshly painted door to the dugout. ‘It's for good luck. And the fruit is delicious,' she told Stefan, who nodded and then lifted a jackhammer to split one of the large boulders they'd dragged from the side of the hill. Shirley wanted Stefan to use it to build the rockery she was creating, which she planned to fill with desert shrubs and flowers.

She watched Stefan wield the jackhammer with ease. She marvelled at his physicality. Watching him work, his lean, firm body and tanned arms, made her long to hold him.

‘I'm a lucky girl,' she said aloud when he turned off the jackhammer and surveyed the large pieces of red and gold rock he had just broken up.

‘To have your personal slave?' he laughed.

‘Builder, miner, good cook, pretty damned good in bed . . . Yep, I reckon I'm doing all right.' She smiled.

‘So what does the boss think about the entrance to the SS
Dugout
?' he asked.

Shirley looked at the new entry to her father's old dugout. ‘Shirley and Stefan will be very comfortable and happy here.'

‘There's a bit of tidying up to do. We have to finish the limewash inside and we're done. Then we can get back to work.'

‘I was hoping you might strike it lucky digging out our bedroom,' said Shirley.

After they'd found the fossil, they'd wasted no time leaving the mine at the Ridge to move to Opal Lake.

‘I'm pretty sure this mine is worked out,' Stefan had told Shirley.

‘I agree. It just feels . . . empty.' She was glad he felt that way as she was ready to move on.

They spent several evenings discussing their plans.

‘Not so much social life in Opal Lake. No bore baths, clubs and all that sort of thing,' said Shirley.

Stefan merely raised an eyebrow. ‘Come on, Shirley. As if I am the club type, and you know I only go to the baths as a social courtesy to the other Yugoslavs working here.'

‘I think we'll be better off in Opal Lake,' said Shirley.

‘You know that I care only about you. We don't need other people, anyway,' said Stefan. ‘We'll do well at your father's mine.'

And he was right. The move to Opal Lake was propitious.

Shirley spread the opals on the table. She began to sort them into firsts, seconds and thirds, according to quality. ‘I think Roth will take the firsts, and maybe pick through some of the seconds. What do you think?'

‘You're right, but Tony Genovese will probably take the rest of these, or the Japanese buyer will,' said Stefan. He stood behind Shirley as she leant over the table, examining the opals they'd found in the last twelve months. ‘Not a bad lot. Though I think that we've done better.'

‘We've done all right. Holding our own, which is more than most can say,' said Shirley. She still found it amazing and wonderful that she and Stefan had continued to support themselves through their opal finds for the past years.

Wrapping his arms around her, Stefan kissed her ear. ‘Instead of just racing in and out, why don't we spend some time over there at the Ridge? We haven't had a break away from here for quite some time.'

‘You're bored with me,' teased Shirley.

‘Never. What about you? Want to see some of your old friends?'

‘Not really. They're more your friends than mine. But I think a break would be good. Okay, we'll secure our place and drive over to the Ridge. And one thing I'd like to do is to visit Roy and Eileen Lanyon on their property out near Hebel. Dad and I used to go there and camp sometimes. Roy's father and Dad were old mates and he used to let people go and fossick round the old mine shafts.'

‘Does anyone mine there now?'

‘They let a few regulars come and mine in the paddocks in the winter months. Hebel used to be a thriving township in the old days. Roy has been collecting artefacts from when, if the mines petered out, people just walked away and left most of their things behind. So he's got a massive shed full of broken sulkies, handmade machinery for milking and farming, antique coloured bottles and china, you name it. It sounds fascinating. The last time I heard, there were plans to protect those early mine shafts, too.'

‘Rusty machinery, old shafts and mullock heaps? It doesn't sound very interesting,' said Stefan. ‘Wouldn't it be dangerous?'

‘I would think they'd have enough sense to make everything safe. I know it's not an ancient cathedral or a museum or an opera house like in Europe, but the slab shacks and stone cottages of the pioneers show the spirit of people who stuck it out in the isolation and hardship of the outback and made a life there,' said Shirley.

‘Like we're doing.' He nuzzled her neck. ‘One day we will go to Europe together and see the old world. I wish I could show you Dubrovnik, and the Dalmatian coast is wonderful.'

‘Sounds pretty good and I would like to go, but when we've finished travelling, we'll come back here,' said Shirley. ‘This is our home. Even if it is a hole in the ground.'

Stefan laughed. ‘It would be hard to explain a dugout to my family. Living in an underground cave would certainly be difficult for them to visualise.' But he straightened up and, looking serious, he said, ‘The last I heard, many people back in Yugoslavia are struggling and living in poor conditions, so perhaps our underground cave would look good to them.'

‘What have you heard from your family in the letter that's just arrived? How's your mother?' asked Shirley.

Stefan lifted his shoulders. ‘As you know, after my father died, my mother went to live in a flat in Zagreb to be near her old friends. But my cousins tell me that she is getting old and sometimes she gets confused, I think.'

‘That's sad,' said Shirley. ‘Maybe your mother appreciates that you are happy and doing well in Australia, even if it is so far away.'

‘The trouble is that the times I've phoned her, I'm not sure that she hears what I tell her. But enough of this sad conversation. Come on, let's go for a walk. The sunset calls.'

The steam from the hot water in the artesian bore baths at Lightning Ridge billowed into the night air. Stefan inched into the baths, gasping at the intense heat, which was such a contrast to the cold air.

The other Yugoslavs watched him gingerly settle and a few made joking comments about his timidity.

Stefan laughed along with them, acknowledging that he was out of practice with the very hot water. He turned to the man next to him. ‘Where is Bosko?'

‘He'll be here. He'll bring us news from home.'

‘So what intrigues, battles and conflicts have erupted this week?'

‘You won't be laughing when you hear what's going on in Yugoslavia.'

‘All these problems seem so far away. So removed from what we're doing here,' said Stefan. He suddenly realised that he was tired of the way these men still devoured the Yugoslav newspapers they were sent, and discussed and debated every piece of news and rumour that came to them via relatives and friends. So he only half listened as the talk about the death of Tito and the growing unrest in Kosovo swirled around him.

As Bosko approached, the group fell silent. Stefan tried to talk to the others about local matters and the price of opal, but all eyes were on the large Serbian as he eased himself into the bore baths.

‘So. There is more trouble in the south.'

‘There's always trouble in Yugoslavia,' said Stefan.

‘Now there is unrest everywhere. No province is safe. If these nationalists get their way and create many little countries, Yugoslavia will no longer be strong and our families and friends will be in trouble,' said Bosko.

‘Why are we continuing to talk about the problems in Yugoslavia when we can peacefully live together here? This is Australia, not the old country. There's no need for this,' said Stefan.

‘I say it because I know what is happening. I haven't turned my back on my homeland like some,' retorted Bosko.

Stefan stepped from the baths. ‘I'm overcooked. I will be going.'

‘Our talk does not interest you, Stefan?' taunted Bosko. ‘But I think that you cannot dismiss what is happing in Yugoslavia. You will be involved whether you like it or not.' Bosko stepped from the baths.

Stefan ignored the comment. ‘I have to meet Shirley for dinner.'

Bosko's expression hardened. ‘That woman is a problem.'

‘And why is that?' asked Stefan.

‘She is stirring trouble. She always says bad things about me.'

‘Maybe she knows more than you think. She is a good judge of people.'

Bosko picked up his towel and jacket and took a menacing step towards Stefan, glaring at him. ‘She knows nothing. She thinks she is a smart Australian woman, and too clever for us. Why don't you find a woman who knows her place and keeps to the old ways and lets the man be on top.' He took a step closer and lifted his fist. ‘She needs a man to fuck her and show her who's boss. You are too soft.'

Bosko made an obscene gesture as the others roared with laughter.

Stefan suddenly moved forward and swung his arm. He landed a punch on the Serb's cheekbone. Bosko was caught completely off guard but quickly retaliated with wild, swinging punches, one of which grazed Stefan's temple, as the mob in the baths began shouting and several scrambled from the searing water to encourage Bosko. He rushed at Stefan and tried headbutting him.

Stefan could smell the liquor on Bosko's breath and, realising that the Serb was unsteady on his feet, took another swing. This time his punch hit Bosko's jaw and, as Bosko staggered and fell to the ground, Stefan turned and walked swiftly away, ignoring the shouts that followed him.

Shirley reacted quickly when she saw Stefan walk into the small house they'd rented for their stay at the Ridge. ‘What has happened to you? You look as though you've been in a fight. Sit down and let me see to that head.'

‘I've had a bit of a run-in with Bosko down at the baths. The man is a dangerous fool, and I knocked him down.'

‘Why?'

Stefan rubbed his face. ‘He said unkind things about you and I won't stand for that, not from anyone.'

‘I hope no one saw you hit him,' said Shirley grimly.

‘Only about a dozen of his mates.'

‘Stefan, I really appreciate your sticking up for me, and I won't ask what Bosko said, because it must have been pretty bad for you to react in that way, but in front of his friends . . . You've said yourself that Bosko is a dangerous person and now you've humiliated him in public. Do you think that was a good idea?'

‘So now he knows I have his number . . . I promise I'll keep out of his way in future. Just as well we don't live in Lightning Ridge anymore.'

Shirley could only agree that Opal Lake seemed a lot safer.

*

A plump man in tight shorts carried a tray set with a metal pot of tea, cold toast in a paper bag, and a saucer smeared with Vegemite and a bit of marmalade across the parking lot and rapped on the door of room six, at the far end of the motel. A young girl followed him with a second tray of dishes under metal lids and she knocked on the door of number four. The men standing about in the street leaning against their vehicles watched the progress of the breakfast delivery to the visiting opal buyers.

The men were a ragtag group. Some looked as though they'd walked straight out of their mines, covered in dust and still wearing their workboots. Others had spruced themselves up, while many wore the local uniform of thongs, shorts and T-shirts sporting rude slogans. One man had a newspaper rolled under his arm, trying to conceal the jar of opal he was carrying. Others kept their hands in their pockets, probably curled around the stones they hoped would be the payoff for their hard labour.

The runners, who were selling for others, looked more relaxed. These men came and went to the buying room throughout the day. The buyers were swift to assess the quality of the opal, which the miners would spread out on the small desk in the compact motel room. Some men left disappointed, others satisfied, and one man was unable to suppress an elated smirk.

Shirley and Stefan were the last to visit room six.

Roth Cameron rose and embraced Shirley, and shook Stefan's hand. ‘So good to see you both.'

‘You too, Roth. How's the family?' Shirley sat on the single chair in front of the desk and Stefan sat on the spare bed.

‘Excellent. Tim wants to come up with me next visit. He might be just a lad, but he's already showing an interest in the business.'

‘That's nice for you. I'd love to meet him. I'm sure he's a lovely boy.' Shirley spread their stones on the table. ‘These are the firsts.'

Roth picked up two stones and his magnifier, and studied them. ‘Lovely. Hmm. These are good. We can do something with these.' He rifled through the stones, quickly putting half a dozen to one side. ‘The Japanese market is very strong at the moment, so I'll take these. They'll do very well. Now show me your seconds, I might be able to place them.'