When the Singing Stops (40 page)

‘You're sure it's not the fact you feel time is marching on and you should settle down?' She gave a small grin, then looked back admiringly at the ring, twisting it a little on her finger.

‘Hell, Madi, it's not like I'm some middle-aged Romeo grabbing a young bimbo to boost his ego.' Connor sounded agitated. This wasn't the reaction he'd anticipated, but as they sat in silence for a moment, Connor had to admit to himself that this was just what he should have expected from Madi and why he'd felt the need to pin her down.

‘Madi, I don't want to lose you. And that's the truth. I thought if I gave you the ring . . .' he paused, a little lost for the right words, then went off on a tangent to cover his embarrassment. ‘I want you to have it anyway . . . Lester and I both agreed it should be yours, no matter what.'

Tears sprang to Madi's eyes at the tremble in Connor's voice and the unashamed honesty with which he spoke.

‘Connor, I'll wear the ring, but on my other hand. And I'm very flattered.'

‘Don't say that . . . it sounds like a speech . . .' Connor wrapped his arms about her. ‘Just love me, Madi, then you'll see how things will fall into place. It's easy . . .' He kissed her long and hard as if willing her to love him back as passionately.

Madi's mind was whirling. It would be easy to just love Connor and let events take the course he obviously envisaged. For all his worldly sophistication and romantic experiences, Madi suddenly saw him as a simple boy who wanted something and had made the appropriate claim and expected success to follow. It was how he'd led his life, she had no doubt. But the underlying assumption that she would go along with his wishes, even when she did love him—and she had to admit that she did—bothered her.

They drew apart and holding hands walked back to the compound. ‘Connor, it's not you . . . and it's not that I don't love you . . . I still need a little time . . . for me . . .'

He squeezed her hand. ‘I'll wait. I understand.' However, in his heart Connor didn't truly understand, but he was prepared to go along with Madi's wishes and hope that somehow everything would work out just as he wanted it to.

Madi was thankful there seemed to be some diversion at the compound. Several horses were tied under a tree and a vaquero was talking to Amelia. They were hailed by Kate. ‘We have a visitor! A friend of yours, Madison.'

Pieter Van Horen, smiling broadly, stepped out of the house and waved, his yellow beard glinting in the sunlight, and his fair hair shining like a silver halo.

‘Pieter! How lovely to see you!' Madi ran forward to give him a hug. ‘This is wonderful, now you can meet Connor.'

The two men shook hands and Connor was struck by the charisma of the older man. He'd imagined some academic wimp, not this tall, powerfully built and striking Dutchman.

‘Breakfast is ready,' announced Kate, ‘so let's talk over the eggs and toast.' They joined Joseph already at the table with hot pepper sauce lined up in front of his plate, waiting for Amelia's eggs.

‘So how come you're here?' asked Madi, smiling with delight at meeting up with Pieter again.

‘I've been collecting, talking to the captains of the villages down here, investigating this and that.'

‘Putting in a good word for Xavier here and there no doubt,' she added.

‘I don't need to do that. He has put in a good word for me. Everyone is most co-operative,' he said, then turned his attention to Connor. ‘And
you, Mr Bain, do you find Guyana as enthralling as Madison does? Or is it just another insignificant Third World country?'

Connor knew immediately that the craggy ethnobotanist could read people as well as he could read plants. He was spared the need to reply immediately when Amelia and her daughter arrived at the table with platters of scrambled eggs, slabs of beef and toast.

‘Well, yes, it is just another Third World country from my banker's perspective, but thanks to Madison's enthusiasm, I'm finding it more interesting almost by the day. By the way, Pieter, call me Connor. Aussies don't have much time for the formal mode of address.'

‘And, Connor, what aspects do you find interesting beyond the bottom line of the project you're working on, important though that is?'

He's a bloody straight shooter this one, thought Connor. He got a little kick from Madi, as if she read his thoughts.

‘Well, I've seen a bit of this country and its people in a way that bankers seldom do, thanks to Madison and friends like Lester and Kate here. Yes, it's really got a lot going for it beyond the mines, lovely country to enjoy, lovely people.' Connor dived into his eggs, hoping the conversation would move on without him.

Pieter too attacked the eggs and, as if in synchronisation with Connor, picked up where he left off as their eyes met over empty forks. ‘These lovely people, it seems to me, aren't getting
much interest on their stake in this country. Would you agree, Connor?'

‘Look. There's no turning back the clock. Mines are here to stay. So are a lot of other industries that don't sit too prettily on the landscape. If the people are going to share in this wealth the industries create, the industries first must be efficient and profitable. And if the people want stronger environmental safeguards, and that's the trend almost everywhere these days, then they must be satisfied with lower profits. Guyana is damned lucky to have so much wealth in natural resources.'

Pieter leaned forward, waving his fork. ‘I agree with you, Connor. The question we must surely address at this point in time, is how to give the people real power in determining the development process? Shall we take our coffee in the garden?'

Connor gave Madi a big raised eyebrow as they passed the coffee pot along the table. Madi smiled reassuringly and gave him a peck on the cheek.

They sat on rustic bush-crafted chairs under a frangipani tree of great size and age. Kate saw them settled then left with Joseph to discuss a beef shipment.

‘Lovely coffee,' said Pieter. ‘Nice to have a break in the routine of work, isn't it?'

Connor was delighted to agree on something. ‘Yes, we've had a great time here. Gives one a chance to recharge the batteries.'

‘Oddly enough,' said Pieter, ‘I never really get tired when doing my work.'

‘Just what exactly are you doing?' Connor wanted to bite his tongue the moment he spoke, recognising where Pieter had cleverly led him. ‘Madi seems to think the plant business has enormous potential,' he added.

Pieter knew his subject well. He presented a briefing of such focus, fact, and depth that it left Connor with few questions.

‘I told you Pieter was an expert,' said Madi smugly. ‘Impressed?'

‘Yes, I can't deny it. Amazing that the drug companies really do spend tens, even hundreds of millions of dollars investigating these natural medicines and in ninety-five per cent of cases it is money straight down the drain. Yet, they keep coming back for more.'

‘Because the profits, when they come up with a commercially successful new drug, are enormous,' said Madi. ‘Don't you agree the people who inherited the knowledge, should share in the profits?'

‘Well,' said Connor hesitatingly, ‘it's not up to me. It's decided by government policy.'

‘Maybe an alternative would be to fund research on behalf of the people, and give them ownership of the patented drugs,' suggested Pieter, almost as if he had just thought of the idea.

‘But it would take millions just to get started,' protested Connor.

‘So?'

‘I don't know of a precedent for something like this.'

‘So?' repeated Pieter.

‘IFO wouldn't put money into something like that.'

‘But you haven't asked them yet, have you?'

Connor realised he had very little room left to manoeuvre and his faltering resistance crumbled when he saw the loving, expectant look on Madi's face. ‘Okay. Who has the project paper and who has the political connections?'

Pieter smiled. ‘Xavier and the other Amerindian leaders have put together a proposal. A meeting in Georgetown can be set up at short notice. The briefing paper is very detailed. You realise, of course, that all this has political implications, so your discretion would be appreciated.'

‘Of course.'

It was then that Madi sat back in her chair, slightly stunned. Not at Connor's capitulation, but at the realisation that this had been a carefully-planned power game played by Xavier, Pieter and Kate. For a moment she felt guilty that she too had unwittingly been a party to getting Connor in this situation.

Then, almost as if on cue, a group of Amerindians led by Kate came up the path, some of them carrying bags of plants. Kate settled them in a semicircle on the edge of the compound clearing and Amelia appeared with a tray
of refreshments for them. Kate called to Pieter, ‘Your specimens have arrived, Doctor. Time for real work.'

‘Perhaps you would like to see a little of my work?' he said to Connor. ‘I believe some of the plants they've gathered have most interesting properties.'

‘Naturally,' he replied, and they both laughed at the unintended pun as they strolled across the compound.

A
ntonio Destra parked in the compound of the Amerindian hostel in Georgetown, and allowed himself the leisure of a cigarette as he ambled around watching some craft workers weaving and painting in preparation for their weekend market of artefacts. That he was a little late for his appointment with Xavier worried him not at all. Making the Amerindian sweat wouldn't hurt a bit.

He stubbed out the cigarette with his shoe then went inside and was immediately taken to Xavier's office. A secretary with a note pad left on a nod from Xavier.

‘Good morning, Xavier,' he said jovially. ‘Checking on arrangements for your rally? Must say, I'm a little surprised at the amount of
support you've managed to drum up among your indigenous community. But it's good to see this revolt against marginalisation of minority peoples. Very nineties stuff, got a lot of politicians worried.'

‘It's a rather healthy sign when politicians get worried, don't you think,' said Xavier, relaxed, but on guard because he regarded Destra as a man not to be trusted. At an earlier meeting at the hostel, he'd formed the impression Antonio Destra was sympathetic to the Amerindian cause for some unrevealed advantage to himself.

‘Right on, hombre. Right on. I reckon some of the guys down at the prime minister's office must be puzzled as to what you're really aiming for, Xavier, trying to figure out what's in it for you?'

‘Our people are simply asking for their rights, their dignity. If the times dictate that we must be confrontational to achieve those ends, then so be it. There are many other minority groups in Guyana who are looking to us for a lead.'

Destra opened his briefcase, took out a large brown envelope and plonked it on the desk in front of Xavier. There was nothing intimidating about the way he did it, but Xavier knew by instinct that it carried bad news. He made no effort to open it.

‘So sad about the goldmine leak,' remarked Destra, suddenly changing the subject and
ignoring the envelope. ‘It serves as a warning to all mining operators in the country, wouldn't you say?'

‘Yes, it's very unfortunate. The damage to my people's environment and lifestyle will go on for some time. It serves, as you say, as a warning. Reckless exploitation of our land cannot continue like this.'

Destra kept a straight face. ‘A bit of a God-sent incident for anyone campaigning against the multinational mining companies.'

Xavier wondered just what Destra was setting up. He knew the dam spill at the goldmine had been a political gift, but he would not admit that to Destra. ‘We would have preferred that the incident had never happened. We have a good case without such disasters.'

‘True. True indeed. And that's why I think you should have a look at some material that has come into my hands.' He leaned forward, tapped the envelope with an index finger and looked Xavier firmly in the eye.

Xavier opened the envelope and took out a sheaf of photographs and thumbed through them slowly, not letting his face show any reaction. When he had looked at them all, he put them back and pushed the envelope to Destra. He said nothing.

Destra said nothing either. It was a battle of wills. The Colombian cracked first.

‘Bejesus, Xavier, they're dynamite,' he exclaimed. Annoyed at the Amerindian's lack of
expression, he emptied the photographs out of the envelope and spread them over the table. ‘Look at them, man. Every shot shows you acting damned oddly around the spill area of the Columbus mine—just before the dam collapsed.'

Xavier had immediately realised the photos taken on a telephoto lens had made him look suspicious. They'd been taken when Xavier had surreptitiously visited the goldmine after reports from the villagers that something was poisoning the fish.

‘Who took these?' he asked calmly, covering the anger he felt inside. He knew that in the wrong hands they would be political dynamite.

‘Obviously, I cannot reveal my source, and there is always the chance other copies are circulating.' Destra paused briefly. ‘As you know I have been very supportive of the Amerindian cause and your own career.' Xavier nodded in agreement. ‘I'm willing to use my connections to quietly purchase the negatives and have all copies suppressed. The owner is threatening to sell them to the newspapers. I have made him a better offer.'

Xavier drew a deep breath. ‘Thank you, Antonio. You have been very good to our cause and I am sure that one day we will find a way of repaying you.'

‘Of course. I'm sure you will.' Then he adopted a less serious tone. ‘Well, I'll be off. Glad to have been of assistance. It pays for
friends to stick together, don't you think? Particularly in these complicated times.'

Xavier was silent for a moment. ‘Yes, you're probably right. By the way, Antonio, do you do business with the Columbus goldmine?'

Destra smiled. ‘Indeed yes. I supplied them pumps and other equipment to repair the damage. They're excellent customers. They know when and how to make a deal.'

Their eyes locked for a few seconds and they both nodded knowingly to each other. Destra gathered up the photographs and slipped them back in the envelope. They shook hands and Destra walked out of the office with a cheerful little wave at the door.

Back in Georgetown, Madi went through her ‘culture shock' of settling back into city life. She tried to explain to Matthew the beauty and impact of the Rupununi, the wonderful wildlife, the fascinating people and Kate McGrath. He smiled at her as he poured a welcome home drink. ‘And did Connor enjoy it too?'

‘I think so. But he comes at things from a different perspective to me. It's a bit unsettling at times.'

‘What do you mean?' Matthew stretched out and put his feet up on the sofa.

‘Money men are hard nuts to crack.'

‘Personally or professionally?' Matthew raised a quizzical eyebrow.

‘Professionally. Pieter turned up down at Caraboo, at the behest of Xavier, as it turned out. They took up my suggestion to approach Connor and the IFO to set up a pharmaceutical program to be run for the Amerindian people.'

‘Is that viable? It sounds long term and risky.'

‘Not if it's done properly.'

‘It's not my bag. I have my hands full dealing with the day-to-day dramas at one small bauxite mine.'

‘But Matt, I'm interested. I want to be part of seeing something constructive happen.' Her eyes sparkled and she spoke with a new passion in her voice.

‘Jesus, Madi, since when? You've only ever been a token greenie, where do your new credentials come from? A subscription to
Greenpeace
magazine? Back home, how often did you get out and demonstrate, or do anything to help environment and conservation groups? You've been a couch potato greenie, swallowing whatever line the radicals were pushing. Have you ever looked at the changes in corporate attitudes? Environmental impact studies are part of ground floor thinking for any mining or engineering enterprise these days. Eco-efficiency or eco-competitiveness is fundamental to big business now.'

‘I know all about that,' said Madi, ‘don't be patronising. And the truth is business is only recognising environmental issues in order to get up projects and make money.'

‘What's wrong with that? If they don't abide by the environmental laws and have an environmental policy—they don't get the money! It's already happening, Madi. Don't paint business corporations as the bad blokes. They can bring about change for the better because of their clout.'

‘They can abuse it too!'

‘So can governments and individuals and shonky companies, that's human nature. Get real and stop being such an idealist, Madi.'

‘And what's wrong with that? The world needs idealists to have vision.'

‘Crap.'

‘And DO something about it. I can be instrumental here. I'm not going to be a part of this casino project, but I can see a whole eco tourism industry could be established in Guyana. And I'd like to be part of it. If you'd been at Caraboo you'd see what I mean.'

‘Are you crazy? For God's sake, Madi, you can't jump on some appealing hobbyhorse on the other side of the world from home. You won't save this tinpot country. You're way out of your depth. Go back to Sydney, go to London but get out of here before you get caught up in God knows what. You know first hand the sort of people you're up against.'

‘Stop it, Matt. This time I'm sticking to my principles and beliefs and I'm
not
backing down. I know I'm right. Maybe I was a token greenie at home but now I have the chance to
prove myself. And that's exactly what I intend to do, Matthew.'

Matthew called Connor and met him at the Tower Hotel for dinner.

They carried their drinks to an outdoor table. ‘We might as well sit out here before the band starts and conversation is impossible.' Connor glanced quickly at the menu and pushed it to one side. ‘Chicken in the rough?'

‘Yeah. That's fine, seems to be their speciality.'

‘It's everyone's speciality, hadn't you noticed?'

‘Yeah. So what do you make of Madi's outburst?'

‘You're both right you know. Having been out there, to the interior, I can see what's appealing to her. It is bloody magnificent. I can see both sides of the argument.'

Matthew looked sullen. ‘I hadn't expected this reaction from you. I thought you were more pragmatic.'

‘I am. But I can recognise a business opportunity when it's put to me. The big question is about Madi's involvement.'

‘She's on some hobbyhorse about being instrumental in getting this up. I know she's got good marketing skills, but this . . . who would have thought this would happen when she arrived here?' Matthew shook his head.

‘She has blossomed somewhat,' said Connor with a wry grin.

‘That's an understatement. Jeez, I wish she'd move on to London. Once she's there, she'll love the buzz of those great old hotels. Surely she'd get work.'

‘Don't encourage her too hard to leave,' said Connor quietly.

‘Why the hell not? I mean . . .' Matthew glanced at Connor and paused before asking, ‘So what exactly is the deal with you two? She is my sister and I don't want to see her hurt. I figured from your point of view, you could both enjoy a bit of a romantic interlude, so to speak. I warned her not to get too involved.'

‘Oh, did you? Thanks a lot.' Connor looked miffed.

‘Do you blame me?' asked Matthew mildly.

‘No, mate. No I don't. But this time things are different. Did she show you the ring?'

‘Ring?' Matthew shook his head. ‘We got stuck into that bloody row . . . what ring?'

‘I gave her the rose diamond I found up at Lester's. I asked her to marry me.'

Matthew stared at Connor, trying to absorb this bombshell.

‘You haven't known each other very long.'

He gave a small smile. They say when you know, you know. I do love her, Matt. I found I missed her terribly when she wasn't around, and the more I thought about her, the more I realised how powerful were my feelings. I have to admit it's taken me a bit by surprise too. When I picked her up at the airport, I thought, well, here could
be an agreeable lady to share some time with. Now I'm just . . . passionate . . . is the only word I can find.' He stopped. He was upset Madi hadn't shown her ring to Matthew. Here was another example of Madi's casual attitude to their relationship, and it disturbed him.

‘Well . . . this presents something of a dilemma . . . I mean, where do you both see the future? Is she going to marry you?' Matthew asked suddenly.

‘She said she wanted more time . . . she didn't say no.' Connor gave a rueful grin. ‘I asked her to move in with me.'

‘And?'

‘I don't know the answer to that either. She wanted to talk to you.'

‘Well, I blew that. She's probably packing as we speak.'

‘I'm sorry, Matt.'

‘Not your fault. It'll settle down. I'd feel better knowing she was under your wing. Maybe you could get her to rethink some of these wild ideas.'

Connor twisted his glass in his hands. ‘They're not totally out of left field. I just don't want to see her get too swept up in it all.'

‘I'll drink to that. So, have you talked about the future at all with her?'

‘No. She says she needs time, still feels a bit leery about going into another marriage so soon . . . I'm happy to go along with delaying the
actual event, so long as I know she's willing to make the commitment—at some stage.'

Matthew was thoughtful. ‘I have to say if I had to pick a bloke for my little sister, you'd be number one. But I can't interfere . . . she's a woman with her own mind these days.'

‘That's for sure. Well, it's nice to know I have your backing. Let's just see how things work out. If she does move in, it might settle a decision in her mind one way or another. She did say we might fight like cats and dogs over our differing views . . . but that's a risk I have to take,' grinned Connor.