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Although they had kissed previously it had always been the courteous kiss of old friends parting for the evening. This was different. Shelley felt her insecurities fading slightly. She really wanted this relationship to develop but recognised the shadow of his missing wife would always be present.
The tape played ‘I don’t know how to love him’ in the background and Shelley thought to herself, ‘How true! I wish I could wash away his pain with love.’ She gave him a squeeze.
Alec pulled back. ‘Shell, you are really lovely, and I greatly value our friendship. You’ve told me about your past problems in relationships. And you know I really, really like you but I don’t want to use any sympathy for me, no matter how genuine, to be mistaken for love.’
‘Sure, sure, I understand.’ She tried not to let her disappointment show; her fondness for Alec she knew was a great deal more than sympathy. But was it love?
‘We are both still very vulnerable, but I do have very strong feelings for you,’ Alec said.
She nodded. In spite of her outward confidence, brio and striking looks, Shelley had developed a carapace of self-protection. Life had not been easy and she had been on the receiving end of several failed relationships, largely because her easy-going, uninhibited nature had been mistaken for being sexually promiscuous. Once it was found that she was far from wanton the relati
onships petered out. She had come to accept that a girl with good looks and a relaxed, uninhibited approach to life seemed to be regarded as an easy lay by most men and they seemed unable to appreciate her other qualities. Too often her body seemed to be of greater importance than her sharp wit and intelligence. The fact that Alec was different appealed to her.
Until now Alec had hardly spoken about Katherine and Carolyn and never about his personal feelings. He never asked about her background and she never raised the subject. Until tonight they had just accepted each other as they were without any detailed investigation of their histories.
‘They searched the area,’ Alec picked up the conversation, ‘and the police put roadblocks on the roads to both Port Augusta and at Bordertown in case whoever gave them a lift went to WA or headed to Eyre Peninsula. I reckon that, because of the time I took to get into Ceduna and back out again, they would have already passed through before any roadblocks were in place. That is if they even went there. Pictures were circulated and the press carried stories, but you know newspapers. News only lasts a short while then they need new headlines to sell stories. With so much else happening at the time interest in their disappearance soon faded.’
‘Yes, I know, I understand.’
‘I’m not angry about the efforts. I reckon the police did their best, but I am really very distressed and saddened by the fact that we can’t find them, or … or their … their bodies. I keep hoping that they are alive somehow, somewhere.’ Alec’s eyes involuntarily filled again with tears.
‘One has to keep hope alive, never give up.’
‘But after six years! After so long it’s becoming increasingly unlikely. Carolyn would be a little girl now.’ The tears edged from the corners of his eyes and into the creases at the base of his nose. Alec took a tissue from the table and dabbed at his face.
Shelley put her arm around his shoulder and pulled him towards her. They hugged each other silently. Alec gave into his tears and cried openly.
* * *
On the other side of Australia, across the flat, red desert and scattering of small bushes, Petri’s four-wheel drive left tracks in the virgin sand. On the seat next to him lay the stack of aerial photographs, maps and notebooks with which a field geologist always travels. His vehicle had been turned into a combined field office, transporter and home away from home. Mounted on the rear was a hinged auger with an electric motor. Once turned into a vertical position it could be used for drilling through soft sands, allowing samples to be collected from buried drainages up to ten metres deep. On the front was an electric winch, on the side a large jack was fastened and on the bonnet was a second spare wheel. The jeep-like shape combined with all of the attachments made it look more like a military vehicle than the efficient exploration vehicle it had become.
Petri was following the ancient courses of rivers long since abandoned. Thirty million years ago they flowed across the gold-rich rocks, taking with them grains of the precious metal. In times of high rainfall the rivers, engorged with water, carried the dense gold particles long distances from their source in the high greenstone hills. As the rush of water declined to the point where it no longer had the energy to carry the heavier grains they sank, along with other dense minerals and larger boulders, to partly fill the river channels. As the climate became drier, the courses became clogged and then buried by the windblown sands.
Petri had to find the locations where the richest deposits of gold occurred, hidden beneath the blanket of sand. The auger penetrated the buried river channels to collect samples that he then took to Kalgoorlie for analysis. Assays done at the newly established laboratories there would tell how much gold was in each of the samples down to one part per million. Results returned so far had been promising: the gold was there as Petri had predicted and by plotting the results on a map, Petri was reaching the point where he could advise Spex of best place to carry out their first extraction experiment.
But could the gold be recovered economically? Fred Cooper had displayed enough confidence in Petri’s theories to organise some preliminary tests. These showed the gold from the sand-filled creeks could be dissolved using cyanide solutions even in the presence of the salt-rich ground waters. Unfortunately, although partly successful, problems had arisen because of the salt. While its very salinity provided protection against contamination, it also caused precipitation of the same salts from cyanide-rich solutions. The pipes became arteries carrying the gold-enriched cyanide blood upwards, slowly being clogged by a plaque of magnesium salt precipitated along its length. Within a very short amount of time the flow of pregnant liquor was reduced from a torrent to a mere trickle. This had a serious impact on the recovery process and the economics of the whole program. While it was the chemist’s problem rather than Petri’s, it made him anxious. A lot was riding on his theory that economic quantities of gold could be extracted from the ancient Tertiary channels.
Petri had been collecting samples for several weeks, making maximum use of the benefits offered by the cooler winter weather. It was time to draw this particular trip to an end. His grey Toyota, of which he was so proud, was now low in supplies and covered with mud and dust. The boxes were almost devoid of food, tins having been replaced by dozens of sample-filled calico bags. It was time to head back to Kalgoorlie.
As evening approached Petri drove south towards the track near Ponton Creek. At least on the maps it was called a creek. In reality it was a sandy depression with fewer trees and bushes than the surrounding country. Petri kept his eyes open for a possible camp site. He planned to make the final leg of his journey into Kalgoorlie next morning.
Sooner than expected he found the local track he’d driven along a few days previously before turning off into unmarked ground. He bumped his vehicle over the small ridges of sand left at the edges by a grader and turned west along the track. As he settled in for the drive he noted the position of the sun, now making it more difficult to see through the windscreen, and calculated how long before he had to make camp. In a few hours tracks would be criss-crossing the country and he knew he was well on the way home.
Petri, alone in his vehicle in the bush for weeks at a time, had much time to think and very little time to socialise. He considered his anchoritic life as a geologist. He was thirty-one and there had been no long-term relationship since he left university. Most of his friends had married and were buying homes. Some had started families. Petri found that invitations to social events were less frequent than in the past. Even now in the liberated 1970’s a single male was rare and, as friends became couples, he was like a fifth wheel on a wagon. His most serious relationship, with a girl he met while at university, lasted four years. It had been a roller-coaster relationship. She acknowledged that exploration geologists have to travel away from home for long periods. Soon, however, she began to pressure him for a commitment. At that stage Petri wasn’t ready for marriage or a family.
On night he returned earlier than expected from a field excursion to find her in his bed, naked and fast asleep. Next to her was a student he had helped with some motor repairs. It was the end of the relationship.
Since then there were several brief affairs but nothing serious.
Petri considered the short visits he had made to Melbourne for research. If he acknowledged the truth of it he was making more trips than strictly necessary because of Shelley. He was aware that she was interested in Alec who, while he seemed attracted to her, was going out of his way to stay aloof. What a pity Shelley lived on the other side of the continent. But even if he moved closer, how could he court her if Alec was still keen?
Katherine stood alone on the weathered wooden boards of the veranda, sipping her cool coffee and gazing into space. It was pitch dark, and quiet - not a hint of the bush noises she normally associated with night. Absolutely silent. As she stood alone with her thoughts a red glow appeared on the horizon. At first she thought it to be a distant fire, but even as she wondered what a fire might mean to her and the bush, what
events might occur as a result, she saw the rising edge of the moon. It progressively grew larger, the colour of ripe cheddar and by the time her cup was drained it stood large and golden, just tipping the tops of the scattered trees.
As it rose higher it seemed to shrivel slightly to its accepted size and debased to silvery white. It converted the pitch night to one bathed in soft light, with skeletal trees casting gentle moon shadows.
‘Moon shadows,’ she whispered. It seemed like her life, just moon shadows.
