New Guinea Moon (25 page)

‘No, I did,' says Julie.

Nadine slaps her hands over her mouth to muffle a crow of laughter; snorts and snuffles escape between her fingers. After a moment Julie gives a reluctant giggle. She says weakly, ‘It's not funny.'

She is very conscious of knowing something that Nadine doesn't know; that the family is breaking apart, that this will be her last summer in New Guinea. The knowledge sits like an iron weight between them on the bed.

‘Do you want Roxy to sleep on your bed tonight?'

Julie is touched. ‘No, that's okay. But thanks.'

Nadine wriggles closer, and lowers her voice. ‘Is it true what they're talking about? That Tony had a native kid?'

‘Are they talking about it?' Julie struggles out from beneath the blankets. ‘What are they saying?'

‘Don't bother going out there,' says Nadine. ‘As soon as you turn up they'll stop talking.'

Julie recognises the truth of this. She lies down again, tormented.

Nadine hugs her knees. ‘I could sing to you, if you like,' she says. ‘When I was a kid and I couldn't sleep, sometimes Koki would sing to me.'

‘Thanks,' says Julie. ‘I'd like that.'

She closes her eyes, and Nadine croons to her in Pidgin. After a few minutes she breaks off. ‘Sorry,' she says. ‘I've forgotten some of the words.'

‘I don't mind,' murmurs Julie.

So Nadine sings again, her voice hardly louder than a whisper, until Julie falls asleep.

‘They are trying to move the natives — the nationals —' Barbara corrects herself quickly, ‘— out of those awful huts. There's a huge building program going on. But in a few years time, they'll be slums, I expect.'

‘Oh, surely not,' says Caroline. ‘If you give people decent places to live, they take pride in looking after them.'

Barbara gives a sceptical sniff. ‘Maybe you're right
. . .
I won't be here to see it, anyway, thank God.'

‘Oh, you're leaving?'

‘Yes. Well
. . .
' Barbara shoots Julie a sideways look. ‘We're not sure yet. We're still deciding what to do. It all depends if people like us will still be welcome here, after Independence.'

Still deciding?
thinks Julie.
Huh
.

‘Eat up, darling,' says Caroline. ‘You look peaky.'

Julie pokes listlessly at her egg. The smell of bacon reminds her so strongly of the motel in Goroka that she feels as if she's going to choke. She mumbles, ‘I'm not that hungry.'

‘We should take you to the market, while you're here,' Barbara says brightly. ‘It would be a shame for you to come all this way and not do some sightseeing.'

‘We could go out to Keriga,' says Julie. ‘So Caroline can see where Tony's buried.'

‘I don't think we'll have time, will we?' says Caroline.

Julie pushes on doggedly. ‘And we need to talk to Patrick Murphy. About setting up the trust for Helen.'

Caroline and Barbara exchange a swift glance. ‘Well,' says Caroline. ‘We don't want to rush into anything, darling.'

‘But her school fees for next term will be due soon.'

‘There's plenty of time to talk about it, once we get back to Melbourne.'

‘But —'

‘Julie,' says Caroline. ‘Of course we want to do what's best for this girl, but we need to be sensible. I don't want you to regret anything. You know I'm not rich, sadly. This money of Tony's might be the only bit of extra help you'll ever get. We need to think about it carefully
. . .
'

‘I don't want to wait,' says Julie. ‘I want to sort it out now.'

Caroline spreads her hands flat on the tabletop. ‘I love you, darling. I want what's best for you. I know I haven't always made the right decisions —'

Julie looks up in horror to see tears in her mother's eyes.

‘— I should have encouraged you and Tony to meet sooner, I'm sorry about that. I was trying to protect you, I suppose. But I'm worried about your future. What if you need that money, what if something happens?'

‘You can't stop bad things happening,' says Julie. ‘No one can. What about Tony?'

Caroline looks at the table. ‘Yes,' she says. ‘Life is short, isn't it?'

There is a silence. Julie waits. She knows she is going to win this battle.

At last Caroline looks up. ‘All right,' she says. ‘Let's find out what we need to do.'

25

The Crabtrees' telephone is in the kitchen, which means that all phone calls are more or less public. Julie waits until everyone is sitting out on the verandah after lunch on Sunday, then she slips away as if she were going to the bathroom. Koki turns around from the sink and gives her a friendly smile. Julie smiles back as she gingerly eases the door shut and takes the phone to the limit of its cord, into the corner of the room. She sits on the floor and dials the number for Keriga.

The phone seems to ring for a long time before someone picks it up. ‘Hello?'

‘Dulcie, is that you? This is Julie.'

There is a brief pause. ‘Hello.'

Suddenly Julie doesn't know what to say. A mysterious lump has hardened in her throat. ‘Could — could I please speak to Simon?'

‘He's not here. He's coming back tomorrow.'

‘But I'm leaving tomorrow!'

‘He got some jobs to do in Goroka. Some shopping, you know. Business work.'

‘Okay,' says Julie helplessly.

‘You find your
susa
, that's good,
ya
?'

‘Yes. I'm so happy we found her.'

There is another pause. ‘Simon ring us; he tell us what happen.'

‘I'm sorry,' whispers Julie.

‘What for?' says Dulcie, in her matter-of-fact way. ‘Not your fault.'

Julie winds the coils of the phone cord round her finger and lets them spring away. ‘Dulcie? Would you give Simon a message from me?'

‘Mm?'

‘Would you tell him — tell him to write to me?'

Dulcie chuckles. ‘No need to tell him that.'

‘This is my address — will you give it to him?' Julie begins to dictate, but Dulcie stops her.

‘You wait — my writing not so good. I get Mr Murphy.'

‘Oh! I didn't think — sorry!' But Dulcie has already put the phone down. A few moments later, Julie hears Patrick's gruff voice.

‘Yes, hello? You still here, are you? We all thought you must have left town already.'

‘Tomorrow,' says Julie. ‘Please, could you give Simon my address?'

‘Fire away.'

Julie dictates her address and waits while Patrick writes it down; then she carefully copies down the Murphys' post office box number. ‘And tell him, if he's ever in Melbourne
. . .
' Her voice trails away.

There is a silence. Julie can hear Patrick's wheezing breath. She knows Simon won't be coming to Melbourne. She says, ‘Allan Crabtree is going to call you. About setting up the trust for Helen.'

‘Ah, Simon mentioned something about that. Glad you're going to do the right thing by the little girl.'

‘Well, we're going to try.' She leans her head against the wall. She says, ‘Our flight to Moresby is at twelve o'clock tomorrow. If — if Simon comes home in time —'

‘He thought you'd already gone,' says Patrick. ‘I'll tell him. He likes you, you know.'

Julie swallows. ‘I like him, too.'

On the final morning, Julie's bags are packed, the carved head wedged inside her suitcase, Tony's Pidgin phrasebooks in a paper carrier bag under her arm.

‘What are all those books, sweetheart? Are you going to take them on the plane?'

‘I want to start learning as soon as I can.'

‘Oh, darling,' says Caroline. ‘Don't you have enough to study at school?'

‘I'll need it,' says Julie. She takes a deep breath. ‘When I come back.' She adds cunningly, ‘You said yourself, there's so much to do here. Especially for women
. . .
I might be able to help. They're setting up a whole new country, you know.'

Caroline opens her mouth and closes it again. She gives Julie a long look, and suddenly Julie is sure that her mother can see right through her.

‘And I thought maybe I should learn bookkeeping.'

Unwillingly Caroline smiles. ‘Well, if you've got your heart set on it
. . .
I suppose I could help you find a good course, after you finish school. If you're sure that's what you want.'

‘I'm sure,' says Julie. Impulsively she throws her arms around her mother and kisses her cheek.

Caroline wraps her arms around her daughter, and they rock gently in a silent embrace.

Julie props the carrier bag against her suitcase, by the front door. The fish hook that Tony talked about has lodged in her heart, and she knows that as long as she lives, New Guinea will keep tugging at her. But she also knows that, no matter how confidently she assures Caroline that she's coming back, part of her is waiting for a sign. Waiting for Simon.

Barbara is driving them to the airport. Julie paces the living room, listening out for the sound of a Jeep crunching down the driveway. But there is nothing.

Caroline says, ‘Ryan? Are you coming to see us off?'

Ryan shrugs. ‘Nads wants to go. I won't fit in the car.'

Since they've returned from Goroka, he's refused to speak to Julie, though nobody but Nadine seems to have noticed this. Barbara would pointedly leave them alone together, whereupon Ryan would walk out of the room, much to Julie's relief.

‘I'm sure the three of us could squeeze into the back,' says Caroline helpfully.

Ryan scowls. Without answering, he picks up his guitar and stalks out onto the verandah. He throws himself into the swinging chair and begins to strum some melancholy chords, staring out across the misty valley. Julie follows him outside.

‘Ryan.'

He frowns down at the frets of his guitar.

‘Ryan, I'm sorry about
. . .
' she wants to say
your nose
, but she changes it to, ‘
. . .
the way everything worked out.'

‘You should have told me.' He still won't look at her. ‘If you liked him better than me. You should have said something.'

‘I know. I'm sorry.' Julie swallows. ‘I was trying to be —'

‘You know what? It doesn't matter.' At last he looks up, angry green light flickering in his eyes. ‘Forget about it.'

‘I don't want things to end like this,' says Julie. She feels as if she's reciting lines from a movie. This scene feels artificial, staged, but Ryan's feelings are real. She has hurt him. She didn't mean to, but she has. ‘Can't we still be friends?'

‘No,' says Ryan. ‘I don't think so.'

He bends his head and strums at his guitar. After a moment, Julie says, ‘Thanks for looking after me. When Dad died.'

He doesn't look up, but one shoulder twitches in a shrug.

She watches him for a minute longer. She supposes she should feel sad, but what she actually feels is mostly relief. She turns on her heel and walks back inside the house.

When she and her mother and Barbara and Nadine, all pile into the car an hour later, Ryan doesn't come out to wave goodbye.

‘He's a very sensitive boy,' Barbara murmurs to Caroline as they head to the airport. ‘He hates goodbyes.' She lowers her voice so that Julie can barely hear her. ‘First love
. . .
so difficult.'

Caroline twists around to throw a startled look at her daughter. Julie glares out of the window and pretends not to notice. Nadine nudges her, and makes a gagging gesture.

‘Don't worry; he'll get over it,' she whispers. ‘Last summer he was in love with Lynette Spitelli.'

Julie nods, and turns her attention back to the window. The road to the airport has become a familiar landscape — they drive past the police barracks, down and up the dip in the road where the white line wobbles comically, past the Chinese trade store and the A-frame house. Time is running out.