Outback Sunset, page 14
‘Do it, Nova,’ Curtis encouraged, ‘you’ve too much talent to waste on camp fire sing-a-longs at Amaroo.’
‘It’s a big step, Curtis. I-I want to think about it.’
‘Sure, it is a new world, a new life.’ Anthea agreed. The reed slender woman with shoulder length chestnut hair finished her Campari and soda and stood up. ‘Don’t wait too long. The window of opportunity can close as quickly as it opens.’
Later that night, as she lay in her modestly priced hotel bed, wanting to fall asleep but unable to, Nova did some serious thinking. Anthea had given her a glimpse into a very different life, the world of entertaining, of possible adulation and appreciation but, was it what she really wanted? She thought about Curtis and the years she had waited for and wanted him. If she followed her other dream it was unlikely that he would be a part of it. Damn it, she sighed into the darkness and thumped the pillow for good measure. She wanted both but instinct and commonsense told her that might not be possible. She had to choose one or the other … Curtis or the music.
In the morning the state of the bed — sheets and covers twisted, pillows askew — was evidence of the restless night she’d had, mentally debating the problem. Just before dawn she made her decision. She cared too much for Curtis and he was more important than a singing career.
CHAPTER NINE
As soon as the worst of the wet subsided, and the rain eased to a steady downpour which was safe to fly in, by way of giving Vanessa a break, Bren whisked her off in the Cessna to Broome to visit his uncle and family. This year the wet had virtually bypassed Broome but with a supply of water from up north guaranteed, the town wasn’t suffering from a water shortage.
The Selby’s home was all and more than Vanessa expected it to be. Two storeys high and of palatial dimensions, it had an internal spa room and all rooms were climate controlled. The sculptured outdoor pool and the sub-tropical gardens reflected an Asian influence which wasn’t surprising because much of Broome had originally been settled by Malay and Japanese divers and their families late in the nineteenth and the early part of the twentieth century. Vanessa was particularly envious of Diane’s garden with its lushness and tall palms, and compared it to the difficulty of keeping a half-decent garden alive at Amaroo.
A few hours after their arrival, Stuart came home. Dressed in shorts, sandals and a singlet top, he looked more like a run-of-the-mill tourist than one of Broome’s most prosperous residents. The only give-away that he was a businessman was his expensive crocodile skin attaché case. He gave the case to Ling, the house boy, to deposit in the study as he came in.
As she sat in the spacious living room with its view of sandhills and sea, something in Vanessa’s expression must have shown her surprise at the way he was dressed. Stuart prefaced his words with a laugh and said, ‘We dress for comfort, rather than to impress. I’ve been at the pearl farm. It’s located in an estuary and it’s always bloody warm there.’
After all round greetings, the four gravitated to the pool with its covered cabana and wet bar and were soon joined by the two youngest Selby daughters, Gillian and Anna, who were in their late teens.
As Bren and Stuart organised drinks at the bar, Vanessa, watching them, found herself noting a strong family resemblance. They were about the same height and build, though Bren’s hair was brown with a curl to it while Stuart’s was sandy coloured, like Curtis’s, with distinguishing flecks of silver at the temples. There were other similarities too — their eyes were the same colour and when they smiled, their mouths quirked in a similar manner. Quite remarkable, really, because when she mentally pictured Curtis’s features and from photos she had seen of Matthew Selby, Bren bore no close resemblance to his brother or father, but then she shrugged off the observation. Perhaps he was more like Hilary’s side of the family.
Bikini clad Gillian and Anna came out of the cabana and dived into the deep end of the pool where they began to horse around, trying to dunk and out-splash each other.
A wave of water sloshed up over the pool and onto Stuart’s feet as he carried drinks back to the table. ‘Keep the splashing down the other end, girls,’ he ordered, his forehead knitting in a disapproving frown.
‘Oh, relax, Stuart, they’re just having fun,’ Diane defended the girls.
His deepening frown was the only outward sign that Stuart had heard her comment. He directed his conversation to Bren as soon as he’d settled. ‘So, you got over your financial hiccup at Amaroo?’
‘Thanks to Vanessa,’ Bren replied with disarming honesty, saluting his wife with his coldie in its insulated holder.
‘Is that so?’ Stuart glanced speculatively at Bren’s wife and when he spoke his voice had an edge to it. ‘I wasn’t aware that British theatre paid that well. I thought stars lived the high life and spent up to their earnings.’
‘Don’t believe everything you read in women’s magazines, and especially not about this star,’ Bren said with a chuckle. ‘If Vanessa never took to the stage again or did another movie role, her financial position would be, shall we say, comfortable.’ He looked at her for confirmation, ‘Wouldn’t it, hon?’
Vanessa didn’t like talking about money and especially not about her money to Stuart Selby even though they were, technically, related. ‘I guess so. Kerri’s a good financial manager as well as a topnotch theatrical agent. She makes sure my investments do well.’
‘I’ve a couple of ventures on the boil here. Perhaps you’d consider investing some of your much prized British pounds in them?’ he asked, continuing to ignore Diane’s disapproving glance.
‘Sorry, Stuart, Kerri handles all my investments.’
‘You could make a killing,’ Stuart said, his tone changing to its persuasive best.
‘Darling, please, not business,’ Diane interrupted smoothly. She shook her head at her husband. ‘Sometimes,’ her smile towards Bren and Vanessa was apologetic, ‘he doesn’t know when to switch off. Besides, we’ve more exciting news to tell you.’
Bren and Vanessa waited expectantly.
‘Our eldest daughter, Kim, is going to have a baby.’
‘Little Kimmy,’ Bren’s open palm hit the table with a thud of surprise. ‘I don’t believe it, she’s still just a kid.’
‘Some kid. She’s five months older than you, Bren. I despaired that she’d ever settle down and produce a family,’ Diane, proud grandmother-to-be, advised.
‘That’s wonderful,’ Vanessa said enthusiastically. ‘Has Kim been married for long?’
‘Four years. She and Tom are very excited about the baby. They work at the pearl farm Stuart has an interest in. Our other married daughter, Traci, is envious — she and her husband, Vance, have been trying for two years to have a baby. You’ll meet them and their husbands at dinner tonight. But,’ Diana’s mouth quirked in a derisive half-smile that didn’t quite extend to her eyes, ‘I’m not sure Stuart is as thrilled as I am by the news.’
‘I’m too young to be a grandfather,’ he said gruffly, pouting. ‘Walking a pram around town will spoil my image.’
‘And what precisely is your … image?’ Vanessa asked tongue-in-cheek though she thought she had a good idea of what he believed it to be.
Diane supplied the answer before Stuart could speak. ‘Oh, you know, the usual wealthy man-about-town image; the successful businessman who, when he thinks he can get away with it, tries to live the life of a bachelor half his age.’
Vanessa would have had to be slow-witted not to pick up Diane’s undertone of rancour. She and Bren exchanged glances after which she made a mental note to discuss this new insight when they were alone. Apparently, and if she hadn’t misinterpreted Diane’s tone and expression, Bren’s uncle and his wife were not as content in their ‘Garden of Eden’ existence as they purported to be. She was getting bad vibes — a barely subdued passive aggression from Stuart and thinly veiled tolerance from Diane who, with her tight-lipped expression, appeared to be not happy.
‘That’s bloody nonsense and you know it, Di,’ Stuart remonstrated, his tone tense. He threw back his head and downed the remains of his drink in one long gulp. ‘Anyone want another?’
‘I will,’ Bren said, hoping to break the edge of tension at the table.
‘Soda water for me,’ said Vanessa. As Stuart moved towards the bar she looked at Diane and asked, ‘So, when is Kim’s baby due?’
Later, in the professionally decorated guest bedroom with its own roomy bathroom which overlooked the pool and distant sandhills leading to Roebuck Bay, Vanessa subtly pressed Bren for information on the state of his uncle’s marriage.
‘It … was a little awkward down by the pool,’ she began as she applied her make-up, talking to him through the bathroom’s open doorway. ‘I had no idea that Stuart and Diane were, well …’ she paused, let the words hang in the air for a moment or two. ‘They seemed happy enough in Darwin.’
Bren shrugged his shoulders. He was naked apart from a towel around his waist, and was waiting for her to leave the bathroom so he could take a shower. ‘They’ve been like that for years. One day they’re fine, the next they’re snapping and sniping at each other like dogs. Curtis reckons …’ He stopped, suddenly distracted when she emerged from the bathroom, ready for dinner. She was wearing a shoestring strap black and white patterned frock that showed a tantalising length of shapely legs, accentuated by her high heeled sandals. ‘You look gorgeous.’
‘Thank you, kind sir,’ she gave him a smile, ‘and what does Curtis reckon …?’
‘Oh, yeah. He’s of the opinion that their problems began a long time ago. They had to get married, if you know what I mean, and they had Kim and Traci pretty quickly and years later, Gillian and Anna. Stuart, well, frankly, my uncle considers himself something of a ladies man, which Diane does not appreciate. Over the years there have been whisperings of affairs all over the place — that Stuart, supposedly, has a woman in every capital city!’ He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively. ‘Curtis believes Diane’s stayed with him because of the girls. They all have a nice lifestyle here and, I guess, so long as Stuart’s discreet about his extracurricular activities, she chooses to turn a blind eye to his womanising.’
‘Sounds a touch despicable to me,’ Vanessa’s tone was honest. ‘Diane seems to be a nice person. She deserves better, don’t you think?’
Bren shrugged again. ‘Dunno, I try not to get involved with it.’
Oddly, Bren’s disclosure about the state of his uncle’s marriage should have satisfied her as to her feeling of being uncomfortable with his uncle, but it didn’t. The fact that he was a womaniser was interesting but, in today’s semi-promiscuous society, not unusual. No, there was … something else, something she couldn’t tie down to anything specific. A certain wariness towards him remained. When she’d been young her mother had said to always trust her instincts, that they wouldn’t let her down and to date they hadn’t. Around Stuart Selby, it would be wise to remember that.
During their four-day visit, she saw little of Bren because Stuart monopolised his time. Diane and her daughters went out of their way to make sure that Vanessa enjoyed her stay in Broome. While Bren and Stuart went golfing, to the pearl farm and did some deep-sea fishing in Stuart’s boat, the women showed her the area. That included a trip to Stuart’s pearl farming interest, to Cable Beach, where she rode a camel and later, to Malcolm Douglas’s Crocodile Park. In town she was given a behind-the-scenes look at, and instruction from no less than one of the directors of the fabulous Paspaley Pearling Company, the largest and most profitable pearling company in Broome.
‘You should come over for Shinju Matsuri, the Festival of the Pearl. It’s celebrated in August,’ Diane said as they sipped cool drinks at an outdoor street cafe in Napier Terrace.
‘It’s the highlight of our year,’ dark-haired Kim advised. ‘We give thanks for the pearl harvest with a parade, and there’s traditional Japanese ceremonies and fireworks.’
Vanessa smiled. She was learning so much about the country she had adopted as her own, finding it more diverse than she’d believed possible. ‘I’d like to see that.’
‘If you can tear Bren, or Curtis, away from Amaroo — they’re usually busy at that time of year,’ Diane said.
Vanessa looked up and down the street. It was a mixture of new and not so new buildings, the sign of a town in transition. Not overly affluent, but certainly moving forward. Young families, casually dressed tourists, four-wheel-drive vehicles, souvenir shops, organised tour shop-fronts too, permeated the streetscape together with tubs of bougainvilleas — which flowered practically all year round — in a riot of colours, from pale apricot to deep burgundy.
‘I’ll find a way.’ There was determination in her voice. Besides, she had a plan — she intended to learn how to fly the chopper and if Bren couldn’t bring her, she hoped that by then she would have her own licence and the expertise to fly herself to Broome. ‘And we’ll want to come and see your baby.’ She smiled at Kim, to whom she had taken an instant liking. ‘Two good excuses, no, reasons, to come, if you ask me …’
When the wet ended, for the first time in her life, Vanessa saw a wondrous transition in the land. Gumbledon Creek had overflowed its banks in several places and would remain a raging, uncrossable torrent for weeks. As ground water evaporated or was absorbed into the earth, shoots, then blades of fine green grass began to sprout. Certain wildflowers, bloomed on hitherto uninteresting shrubs and bushes, and a variety of gums sprouted shiny new leaves. The garden at the front of the homestead, which mostly consisted of a selection of native flora, brought forth a rainbow of colours that would blaze only once a year.
It took another week of unrelenting sunshine before the ground was solid enough for Vanessa and Nova to ride into the foothills — the first time in almost three months — to witness the rejuvenation of nature.
‘I’m going to miss this when I go to South Australia,’ Vanessa said wistfully. Tomorrow she was leaving to take up her movie role which was being shot in the Flinders Ranges.
They were giving their horses a rest, having dismounted and found a group of largish boulders next to the trail to sit on. The trail led to the Exeter Waterfall but they couldn’t get close enough to see it because the fall was producing such an abundance of water that the usually dry creek that ran through the gorge had more than a metre-high flow racing through it.
‘Be grateful,’ Nova replied, ‘if you stick around here, Bren will have you herding cattle from one end of the property to the other. We have to cut a third of the mature stock out for export. It’ll be hard yakka here for a month or more.’
‘Oh, I’ll miss all the hard work,’ Vanessa shot back with a pleased-as-punch grin. ‘Acting is hard work too, you know,’ she added after a moment’s reflection. ‘I know that what you see on the screen makes it look easy, but getting the desired result can be and often is tedious work.’
‘I’ve always been fascinated by how they do films,’ Nova admitted as she picked up a stick and began to draw patterns in the earth. ‘Which do you prefer, movies or live theatre?’
‘Live theatre. I think it’s what I do best. Every performance becomes a little different because of how you feel at the time, and how each audience — which is also different — responds. That keeps it fresh for me. Some actors get bored doing the same lines night after night. I don’t because it’s my job not to.’ Vanessa flashed her a speculative look and adroitly changed the subject. ‘What about yourself, your career? You could have one, you know.’
Nova glanced at her then her gaze skittered away to the creek. ‘I’m still considering it. Dad says I should give it a go but …’ she stopped, thought, then said, ‘it would be a very different world to here. I’m comfortable with this place.’
‘Sometimes you have to get out of your comfort zone to get what you really want. We only get one shot at life, Nova, and often just one chance to grasp what’s being offered. That’s how it worked for me with my acting. I’ve heard Kerri say that many live entertainers, singers, struggle for years to get what that Sydney manager offered you on a platter.’
‘I know, but …’
Vanessa, wisely, chose not to pursue the topic. What was the point? She had her suspicions as to what was holding Nova back. Not a lack of belief in her talent or that she could make a success of it, but Curtis and the feelings she had — or thought she had — for him. Ironic, really!
‘When I come back from South Australia I’m going to have Bren teach me how to fly the chopper. Do you want to learn too?’ Vanessa enquired as she moved along the boulder into a deeper patch of shade.
‘Uh huh, I’m happy to be a passenger. You’re very brave to want to fly the thing.’
‘It’s the most efficient mode of transport out here. If I could fly I wouldn’t feel or be isolated. I could go to Kununurra, visit Lauren and the boys more often, see Diane in Broome. And Amaroo should have another chopper for mustering — even hiring out to other stations. That’s a possibility too.’
‘They’re pretty expensive.’
‘I know, but why can’t the property lease one instead of buying one outright?’
Nova looked surprised. ‘I don’t think Bren or Curtis have thought about doing that.’
‘Before I go to Adelaide, they’ll be more than thinking about it. If I’m going to fly I want a new or near new chopper — even if I have to pay for it myself.’
‘Good luck with that. Bren, Dad and Curtis had to do a lot of study, theory and practical, and it costs. Over thirty thousand dollars, so I’ve heard. Dad reckons the station has to be able to justify such a cost otherwise it isn’t economical.’ There were times, Nova thought, when Vanessa’s self-assurance irritated her. She always knew what she wanted and how she was going to get it, so much so that, occasionally, by comparison Nova felt inadequate. And she resented being made to feel that way, yes, definitely.
