OF DREAMS AND CEREMONIES (18 page)

BOOK: OF DREAMS AND CEREMONIES
9.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

"So I was thinking maybe we could do the double-barrel thing, and both be Goring Taylor."

Silence.

Dave suddenly lost his nerve. "If you think - I mean - Well, I don't want to presume - "

"You're perfectly entitled," Nicholas said, cutting him off.

"Really?"

"
Yes
."

"We'd have to do it by Deed Poll, but - "

"No, that would be - "

"I figured you'd like it if we - "

"Awesome. That would be awesome."

"Cos we're a family now, yeah? Even if it's just the two of us."

Nicholas stared at him,
glowing
with intensity.

"If you think your family wouldn't mind, that is."

"David, they're your family, too, now." Nicholas got up, still looking drawn and pale but also charged with purpose. "He'll say yes, of course. He won't even expect me to ask permission. But I want to talk to my father about it. All right?"

"Of course," Dave agreed, absolutely fine with that.

"I think he'll love it as much as I do," Nicholas continued, not moving from where he stood.

"Go on, then. If it's a good thing - "

"It's a good thing," Nicholas confirmed.

"Then go and make him happy. He deserves it."

Nicholas set off, but stopped by Dave to press a kiss to his temple. "Love you," he said.

"I know."

"I love you so very much - David Goring Taylor."

Dave grinned at him. "Exactly."

Nicholas hadn't returned by dinnertime, so Dave wandered downstairs on his own. Which was fine, of course.

Except that he happened to see Nicholas coming out of the study, and quietly closing the door behind him. And it was perfectly obvious that Nicholas was in tears.

Dave's first instinct was to see what he could do to make things better. But then he figured that actually he might just make it all worse. And anyway, Nicholas had his head down and was making for the downstairs bathroom. He wasn't looking for Dave, so maybe Dave should just let things be. He'd always known that this parting would break Nicholas's heart as well.

What with the Earl himself being absent as well, dinner was served fifteen minutes late. But when Richard appeared, he seemed fine, he seemed as robust as ever - and he shook Dave's hand very firmly, before announcing this latest news to the family with great pride.

Nicholas, still rather pale, held Dave's hand under the table and nevertheless had a good stab at eating the lamb shank casserole Mrs Gilchrist had prepared. And really, Dave had to assume that everything was going to be all right. They were all going to be all right. He just knew it.

Thanks to Richard, they flew first class to Australia, which of course was well-meant - but Dave found the unexpected surroundings a bit unnerving and Nicholas was subdued in any case. They did little more than hold hands and watch movies - manually synchronising them on both their screens - until at last an exhausted Nicholas fell asleep. Dave kept holding his hand, and just sat there, waiting through the hours of darkness. He hadn't travelled enough to have got the knack of sleeping on planes.

Dave didn't get much rest during the stopover at Singapore, either. Nicholas was still really out of it, so Dave just sat on the floor in the departure lounge with his back propped against a wall, and Nicholas lay himself out along the carpet with his head pillowed on Dave's thigh. He didn't fall asleep again, but Dave stroked his hair gently and Nicholas seemed to find that soothing.

Finally they touched down in Brisbane, a few minutes ahead of schedule. Denise came to meet them at the airport, and drove them home. She'd already stocked the fridge for them and made up the bed, so once she was sure they were sorted, she left them to it. The two of them still didn't talk much. After putting on a load of washing, Dave drove them into the city, and they wandered the botanic gardens for a while, just as they'd done when first they met.

It was a warm day, with an infinite blue sky. Nicholas seemed to draw strength from the sunlight as he tilted his face towards it, letting the sun find him under the brim of his Bluegrass Green Akubra. Dave watched him fondly, until at last Nicholas smiled at him - a little wobbly perhaps, but genuinely. They smiled at each other, and held hands - went home and made love, and slept. And on the next day they woke, and their new life together in Australia truly began.

Charlie came to visit them one day, bursting with a surprise. "You've been invited to a corroboree, mate."

Dave stared at him, flabbergasted. "You've been talking with the elders about the waterhole … ?"

"Yeah. And they're cautious. They're not giving much away. But they invited you - and Nicholas - to attend this corroboree. And more than that, Davey, they want
you
to actually take part in it."

"God!" Dave blurted. He hadn't really expected Charlie would get very far with his crazy notion that maybe this white fella should become the custodian of the old Dreamtime site Dave and Nicholas had rediscovered.

"Don't get too excited, mate, it's pretty much a show put on for the tourists. It's the real thing, but it's not the important stuff. There'll be no sacred boards, no secrets shared - you know?"

"Yeah, of course … but that's really cool!"

Nicholas was watching all this with a glowing gaze. He'd always found it perfectly right and obvious that Dave could have a Dreamtime connection with the land, even if he was the wrong race, the wrong colour. But that was love for you. Nicholas would always see the best in him, even if Dave didn't quite believe it of himself.

"It's a small step, baby steps," Charlie continued. "You white fellas get impatient with us, I know, but at least they're showing an interest. At least they're doing you this courtesy."

"Not just a courtesy," Dave said, from the depths of his heart. "It's an honour. I feel really honoured."

Charlie grinned at him, and looked beautifully smug. "You'll be right, mate. You'll be just fine."

Before that could happen, however, Nicholas experienced his first Christmas in summer. He seemed rather bemused by it all. In the heat, Nicholas had taken to wearing a light t-shirt and long canvas shorts, staying in the shade as much as possible and wearing his Akubra when he couldn't, and of course drinking plenty of water with ice and lime juice. Dave was surprised to find that the Brisbane climate didn't seem to worry him too much. When Dave quizzed him about it, all Nicholas did was shrug and say, "I'm happy." Once he added, "I'm where I belong," and Dave didn't feel the need to ask so often after that.

On Christmas Day, Dave and Nicholas had Denise, Vittorio and Zoe over for lunch. They cooked steak, sausages and onions on the barbecue out on the veranda, while Zoe crawled around on the grass and wrestled happily with the colourful plush butterfly toys Nicholas had gifted her. Lunch was served with salads and damper, and then finished off with an Ice Cream Christmas Pudding from an old recipe that Dave's mum used to make.

Afterwards, Zoe napped while the adults stretched out on deck chairs and talked a little or maybe drifted off into a snooze. Eventually Denise announced that she and Vittorio were still trying to decide on a name for the baby they were expecting.

"Well, what have you got so far?" asked Dave.

"Nothing that both of us like."

"I like Zoe," he said musingly.

"Already taken."

They all laughed at her retort, before Dave explained, "I meant that was a good choice, so how did you settle on that?"

"Oh, long story," Denise brushed him off with.

"Really not relevant," Vittorio added.

Then Denise asked, "Nicholas, what are your favourite names?"

Nicholas blinked and returned her look for a long silent moment, obviously puzzled. "I've never really thought about it," he eventually answered. "I've always known I'm never going to have a child of my own to name."

"But if you did," Denise persisted, "what would it be?"

"Well …" He took his time with that, but the others let him. They each sipped at their beer or water-and-juice, and contemplated the backyard - which Dave felt was in pretty good shape despite having been abandoned for the entire spring season and more.

"Well," Nicholas eventually said, "I always thought Bethan is a nice name for a girl, and maybe … Aidan for a boy?"

"Cool," said Denise. "Dave, will those do?"

"Fine by me," he replied.

"There we go, then!" she said, exchanging a satisfied grin with Vittorio. "Problem solved."

"What?!" cried Nicholas.

"We figured that if you and Dave are the godparents - irreligious, mind you - then you might as well do the hard work for us."

Nicholas had been rendered speechless. Stranger things had happened, but not often. Dave went over to him, and knelt beside his chair, took him into a massive hug. They held onto each other tight. And Dave murmured into Nicholas's ear, "You're where you belong, husband. You're where you belong."

In the evening Dave and Nicholas drove down to the nearest beach on the Gold Coast, and wandered along the white sands in their Akubras as the sun westered. They drew a few odd looks for walking hand-in-hand, but no one bothered them.

After a long silence broken by nothing but the crash of the waves surging ashore, Nicholas said, half-surprised and half-contented, "I could get used to this."

"It's pretty good," Dave agreed.

Nicholas smiled at him with utter fondness. "It's idyllic." His hand was hot on Dave's thigh all the way back home to Brisbane.

The Greatest and Best Mystery in the World

To be honest, there are times when we're still trying to work each other out.

But my father says that even after we've been together for fifty years, David will still be able to surprise me. And not only is he probably right, I suspect that it's actually a good thing.

Because it seems to me … the feeling that

you already know all there is to know about another person, that you might even know them better than they know themselves - that's the death knell of a relationship, isn't it?

I can't imagine that ever happening for us.

David Goring Taylor, I want to spend the rest of my life trying to figure you out.

The corroboree was held in the new year on a
bora
ground long used for these public ceremonies, a clearing in the bush where there were large circles inscribed in the earth, with a pathway linking them together. The people started to gather together in the crisp morning air, both participants and audience, somehow mingling a sense of respect with a growing sense of excitement. Dave figured that was all right, though, as even Charlie was grinning with enthusiasm at the prospect of the rituals they'd enact that evening.

In fact, Charlie was again bursting with a surprise. "Nicholas my man, you've been invited to dance, too."

"Really?" Nicholas asked, gaping a little.

"With the women folk," Charlie added mischievously - though somehow they knew he was deadly serious. He looked from one to the other of their gobsmacked faces, and admitted, "They're taking the mick, of course. But the invitation's real enough. If you want to accept it."

A pause lengthened, and Dave scrambled for the right words to politely refuse on Nicholas's behalf.

Except that once Nicholas had found his voice, he said quite firmly, "Of course I will."

"You will … ?!" Dave asked, flabbergasted yet again.

"Of course," said Nicholas. "Whatever you need, David. Whatever we need to do to make this work out for you."

"But I couldn't ask …" He didn't think he could bear Nicholas being made fun of.

Nicholas drew himself up tall, and sniffed disdainfully. "I shall probably get to wear a better hat than you, so don't go thinking I'll be at all unhappy."

Dave barely had time to grasp his husband's hand in gratitude and exchange a look swelling with love before they were separated and each taken away to learn the songs and dances.

They were only taking part in the final song of the ceremony, but even so it took quite an effort to learn the unfamiliar words, and then the rhythm, and the melody, and finally the accompanying dance. There were three young Aboriginals who were learning along with Dave, however, and it didn't seem to come much more naturally to them than him. Charlie was participating, too, but he seemed to think it proper to leave Dave to his own devices. At least this song was the time at which all the disparate groups converged, so any mistakes Dave made would be hidden within the whole, just one person amidst about fifty others. But he was determined not to make any mistakes if he could possibly help it. He and Nicholas were the only white fellas participating in the corroboree, of course, and Dave felt all the force of the compliment again and again throughout the long day.

They each kept to their own group for a dinner which combined a Western barbecue with traditional bush tucker, and then it was time to dress. Dave was allowed to wear khaki shorts, though he felt that was cheating a little as the Aboriginal men wore a loincloth type of arrangement. He was barefoot, and adorned with all the same decorations, however, including strings of feathers hung around his neck and bound around his waist, and body paint. Not to mention an impressive conical head-dress also painted with significant designs.

At last it was time to begin. Even the audience had been taught a song, because the corroboree started with everyone joining in a general round of singing. Then the formal rituals began, with small groups of men and women each taking turns to enact a short Dreamtime story. Dave watched from the sidelines with the rest of the male participants, every now and then permitted to take part in providing percussion using the song sticks. He kept an eye out for Nicholas in the distant women's group, of course, but didn't manage to see him. Nicholas was probably trying to be discreet.

Finally they were ready for the big finale. A long pile of dry grass was set alight as the men moved into the
bora
ground, with the flames alternately illuminating and making silhouettes of the dancers' bodies. The audience were almost as enthralled by the drama of it as the dancers themselves were.

Other books

The Mandel Files by Peter F. Hamilton
Crow Lake by Mary Lawson
Playing the Game by JL Paul
The Good Greek Wife? by Kate Walker
The Final Diagnosis by Arthur Hailey
Walking to Camelot by John A. Cherrington