Just in case it didn’t, though, I jumped up and hurried over to Ray.
‘What happened?’ I demanded. ‘Are you all right?’
‘I’m fine,’ said Ray, patting me on the back.
‘What about the others? Where are they?’
‘Oh, they’re coming.’ He glanced over his shoulder. ‘They’re up there. See? Near the steps.’
‘Was there a cave-in?’ asked Bethan, who had followed me.
‘No, there wasn’t any cave-in,’ Ray replied.
‘You didn’t see the Mumuga?’
‘No, I didn’t see the Mumuga.’
‘What happened?’ said Dad – not very happily, I thought. ‘There’s been quite a panic over you lot.’
‘Oh . . .’ Ray shoved his hands into his pockets. His skin and clothes were smeared with mud. He looked sweaty and tired, and his hair was sticking up all over the place. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that messy; normally he’s so neat and clean. ‘It’s not called the Plughole tour for nothing,’ he explained. ‘The whole experience was like being a bit of food, winding its way through someone’s intestines. The only way out is through something called the “S bend”. Not at all pleasant. Sylvester had a bit of a turn.’
‘A bit of a turn?’ echoed Michelle. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, he’s a big bloke. He got stuck in a tight spot – it was pretty hair-raising, you were basically wriggling along – and he had a panic attack. Had to be talked back up to the surface, step by step. Took a while.’
‘What’s a panic attack?’ Bethan queried, with great interest.
‘Nothing that’s any of your business,’ Ray warned. ‘I mean it, Bethan – it’s not something I want you bringing up, all right? Now where’s your mum? It’s getting very late.’
Michelle, Bethan and I all started talking at once. At the same time, a small knot of people spilled out of the guides’ office. Mum was part of it, along with Colette and Sylvia and Greg. Greg seemed to be pushing the others through the door, ignoring Colette, who was addressing him sharply. Sylvia was wiping her eyes with a tissue.
Mum immediately spotted Ray.
‘Ray! You’re back!’ she cried.
‘Yes –’
‘They’re back! Look!’ Mum turned to poor Greg. ‘Why didn’t you tell us they were back?’
‘Perhaps because I was otherwise occupied,’ Greg drawled – but I don’t think anyone heard him, except me. His reply was drowned by a great surge of babble, as Colette started asking about Sylvester, and Mum started asking about Richard, and Michelle started explaining, with ferocious glee, that Sylvester had ‘stuffed up the adventure tour with a panic attack’. Ray, I noticed, shot her a pained look.
‘But where is Sylvester?’ Colette demanded. ‘What happened to him?’
‘Nothing.’ Ray spoke patiently. ‘He’s following behind, he had to sit down and do some deep breathing –’
‘He got stuck, Mum. He panicked. He ruined everything, the way he usually does.’
‘Michelle.’ It was Dad. ‘Remember what I told you? You’re feeding your own misery.’
‘Look, Ray! Look at the scats I found! Ray?’
‘Yes – hang on a minute, Bethan – Richard and Rosemary went inside Caves House, Judy. I think they were looking for a beer. Is Paul back yet?’
‘No! No, he’s not! And no one even seems to care!’
‘Oh, now that’s not true, Sylvia, you know the staff’s been hunting for hours.’ Mum looked around for Greg, but he had disappeared back inside the office. ‘Everyone’s doing their very best.’
‘No, they aren’t!’ Sylvia cried. ‘They think it’s all a prank!’
This last remark was directed at Colette, who threw up her hands and rolled her eyes.
‘I’m sorry I opened my mouth,’ she said.
‘Yes, but – hang on a minute.’ Though Ray spoke quietly, he was obviously concerned. ‘Of course, I realise the chances are that he is playing a trick. Even so, in these circumstances – I mean, the first few hours are always the most important when someone’s missing, aren’t they?’
‘Oh, my God!’ moaned Sylvia.
‘Ray.’ Mum threw a funny sort of look in his direction. ‘Could you go and get the kids a drink, or something?’
‘We’ve already had a drink,’ I informed her, while Sylvia started to talk about phoning the police. She even pulled a mobile phone out from somewhere or other. Colette was tugging at her daughter’s arm. (‘We have to find Sylvester,’ she was saying.) Mum was trying to calm Sylvia down. Dad kept on butting in, but no one was listening to him. Bethan covered his ears. Ray put an arm around Bethan’s shoulder, saying, ‘Let’s get the kids settled, first . . .’
And then Sylvia’s mobile trilled. She got such a fright that she dropped it on the ground.
Ray picked it up, but she snatched it from him.
‘Hello?’ she gasped, pressing it against her ear. ‘Hello?’
As she listened, her expression changed. Her whole body seemed to sag. Michelle turned to me and whispered, ‘I bet that’s Paul’.
‘I – you – you can’t . . .’ Sylvia stammered. ‘That’s not true! I would have . . . no . . . how can you . . . I want to . . . wait! Simon!’
Mum caught her breath. She nudged Ray. ‘That’s him,’ she murmured. ‘That’s the ex-husband.’
‘Come on, kids, you come with me,’ said Dad, tapping my shoulder. ‘We’ll go and look at the gift shop.’
I think Bethan would have gone like a shot. But Sylvia suddenly pressed the mobile to her chest and announced, in a broken voice, ‘He took him!’
‘What?’ said Mum.
‘Simon took Paul! He came here and took him away!’
‘What do you mean, he came here?’ asked Mum. ‘He came here? To the Jenolan Caves?’
Sylvia was so upset that she couldn’t explain things very well. Finally, however, we managed to piece together what had happened. Simon, Paul’s father, had driven all the way to the Jenolan Caves. When he’d arrived, his son had been on the cave tour, so he’d waited outside Paul’s room. Paul had found him there while Sylvia was downstairs buying hot chips. At Simon’s suggestion, Paul had left the building with his father, and hopped into Simon’s car.
‘Without saying goodbye?’ Mum gasped. ‘But that’s terrible!’
‘He said I wouldn’t have delivered Paul back in time!’ Sylvia sobbed. ‘He said I was violating the custody arrangements!’
This time it was Ray who tapped my shoulder. ‘Come on, kids,’ he said softly. ‘Time to go, I think.’
We didn’t argue.
CHAPTER # ten
In the end, we didn’t leave the Caves until after six. There was so much fussing around, you see. Part of the fuss was caused by Sylvia. According to Mum, she wasn’t fit to drive – certainly not on the skinny, winding road back to Sydney. So someone had to be found who would stay with her while she calmed down, and called her lawyer, and tried to decide what else to do.
Richard and Rosemary volunteered for that job.
Then there was Sylvester. Sylvester was also causing a bit of a fuss. He was blaming the Jenolan guides for taking people on what he called ‘a very dangerous tour’. He said that the Plughole tour had been badly managed, that a man with his enormous muscular shoulders should never have been allowed to take part, that proper warnings should have been issued, that he wanted a refund, that he was going to write to the Department of Tourism, and so on and so on.
Personally, I would have been embarrassed. I mean, why keep reminding people about how scared you were? Especially since it wasn’t really anybody’s fault.
Ray and Richard were sympathetic, at first, but started to get impatient when Sylvester refused to calm down. The word ‘claustrophobia’ was mentioned, and boy, did Sylvester hit the roof! It was as if he felt insulted. I don’t know why. Lots of people don’t like confined spaces. It doesn’t mean they’re cowards, or anything.
Colette fina
lly got mad with him. We were all standing around in the car park, and she threatened to drive off and leave him there if he didn’t stop being ‘such a baby’. That was after he’d asked Richard and Ray to join him in making a complaint about the Plughole tour, and they had refused to help out.
Michelle was delighted, of course. She drew me aside and whispered, ‘Wish me luck. I think Zit-fester just blew it.’ That was when she stopped asking if she could hitch a lift home with my family. Don’t ask me what her plans were. Maybe she wanted to see what would happen between Colette and Sylvester on the drive back to Sydney. Maybe she was hoping to sabotage Sylvester’s attempts to make peace with her mother.
Michelle doesn’t seem to mind being in the middle of an argument. She’ll even start them, if she feels strongly enough. Personally, I don’t know how she does it. I also don’t know what she thinks she’s going to accomplish.
I think I’d rather live with Sylvester than with endless fights and tantrums.
Then again, I don’t have to live with Sylvester. Maybe if I did, I’d have a different point of view.
Michelle and her mum were the first to leave. (They took Sylvester with them.) Joyce and Gordon followed closely behind. Richard apologised to the rest of us for the ‘unfortunate end’ to our weekend away, before wandering off to find Rosemary – who was somewhere in Caves House, holding Sylvia’s hand. Poor Richard. You could tell he felt guilty, even though it wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t have known that Sylvester would have a panic attack, or that Sylvia’s ex-husband would run off with her son. He also couldn’t have known that Matoaka was going to step in a big pile of unidentified manure, and spend the rest of the day endlessly complaining about it – even after she’d taken a shower. She and Joyce had snuck into one of the upstairs bathrooms, so that Matoaka could clean herself off using a towel from Joyce’s car. But despite the fact that she had washed and changed, Matoaka couldn’t stop fussing. She kept talking about ‘defilement’ and ‘purifying her inner space’ until Mum told her, quite bluntly, that we’d heard enough about animal dung for one day, thank you very much.
Matoaka took the hint. She didn’t have anything else to say, after that.
Unfortunately, Dad did. I thought everything was going to settle down. I was looking forward to a nice, quiet trip home, with only Bethan’s restless fidgeting to disturb the peace. But I had forgotten about Dad.
Dad wanted Bethan and me to go home in his car.
‘It’s only fair,’ he announced. ‘You had them on the way here, Judy, so I should have them on the way back.’
‘Excuse me?’ said Mum. Ray sighed. Bethan screwed up his nose.
‘I don’t want to go in your car,’ he told Dad. ‘There’s no airconditioning, and no CD player.’
Dad took a deep breath. ‘You won’t need them, Bethan,’ he pointed out. ‘It’s cooled off now, and we’ll be talking. That’s what I want to do. Talk. Communicate.’
‘And what about the kids? Suppose they don’t want to talk?’ snapped Mum. At which point Ray said loudly, ‘Come on, kids. I think you should both go to the toilet before we leave.’
‘But I don’t need to go to the toilet!’ Bethan whined. (He was still upset about having to give Joyce back her field guide.)
‘Yes, you do.’ Ray dragged us off to the toilets in Caves House. As we were hurrying away, I could hear Dad growl something about ‘materialistic values’, whereupon Mum replied, ‘Hah! I guess you can afford not to have materialistic values, when you spend all your time sponging off people . . .’
‘I wish they wouldn’t argue all the time,’ Bethan grumbled, once we were inside.
‘So do I,’ said Ray, glumly.
‘Mum was never like this before Dad came. Oh!’ We were passing the bistro, and Bethan had seen the sweet display on the counter. ‘Can I have a chocolate bar? Please? I won’t eat it till I’m in the car.’
‘Well . . .’
‘Please?’
‘Oh, all right.’
Ray was obviously too tired to argue. So after visiting the toilets with us, he bought two Mars Bars. Meanwhile, I was thinking. I was thinking about what Bethan had said: Mum was never like this before Dad came. Basically, Bethan was blaming Dad. We all blamed Dad, all the time. Especially Mum. We were just like Michelle, who was always blaming Sylvester.
I remember standing in front of the bathroom mirror, looking at my reflection. Naturally, I didn’t look like Michelle. I’m pale with freckles, while she has olive skin. Her hair is smooth, and mine’s frizzy. Her eyes are green and mine are blue.
But in some ways, we were the same. She didn’t want Sylvester in her life, and I didn’t want Dad in mine. Not really. Neither did Mum. Neither did Bethan, when he actually bothered to think about it. It occurred to me that, deep in our hearts, we were probably expecting Dad to just go away. He’d gone away once, after all – and stayed away. Why not again? Especially since he wasn’t receiving any encouragement. On the contrary. We were all doing our best to make Dad feel unwelcome, only we weren’t being quite as obvious as Michelle.
And the result? Well, it was the same result you get when you try to lock Bethan out of your room. I’ve done that a few times when I’ve had friends around, and it’s like a red rag to a bull. The more you try to exclude Bethan, the clingier he gets. He’ll push things under the door, he’ll make a great big noise outside in the hallway, he’ll play tricks (‘Allie! There’s someone on the phone for you!’) and, finally, he’ll just stand there whingeing.
I realised that Dad was the same as Bethan. Maybe, I thought, he wouldn’t be so pushy if he was getting what he needed. Sort of like a ghost, I suppose. They pester you and pester you and then, when you work out what they want and give it to them, they go away satisfied.
That’s what I’d told Rosemary, anyway.
I wondered if going home with Dad, in Matoaka’s car, would calm him down a bit. Make him stop arguing with Mum, for instance. And then, if he stopped arguing, Mum might think he wasn’t so bad after all, and realise that she could cope with him. That she would have to cope with him – somehow.
Mum and Dad were both still bickering when we returned to the car park. It looked that way from a distance, at least. Ray sighed impatiently. He told Bethan and me to wait for a minute, and left us standing on some steps while he went to see what was going on. Bethan said to me, ‘Do you think I could open my Mars Bar now?’
‘No,’ I replied. ‘Don’t even think about it.’
‘The paper’s a bit torn, look . . .’
‘Bethan.’ I lowered my voice. ‘Do you think you could be nicer to Dad?’
‘Huh?’
‘You know. Like – going in his car, and stuff.’
Bethan pouted. ‘But I don’t want to go in Dad’s car. He hasn’t got a CD player. Or airconditioning.’
‘Yes, but it might get him off our backs a bit. I mean, right now he wants to see more of us. Well – if he does see more of us, then he’ll probably change his mind.’ Safe bet for sure, if Bethan’s involved. A little bit of Bethan goes a long way. ‘It’s like with chocolate,’ I explained. ‘If you eat too much chocolate, you get sick, and you don’t want to eat any more for a while. That’s probably what will happen with Dad. If we go in his car.’
Bethan frowned. He seemed to ponder. At last, shaking his head, he declared, ‘I don’t like that car. You can’t play CDs. It’s only got a radio.’
And that was that. He wouldn’t budge. Glancing across at the adults, I saw that they still hadn’t come to an agreement. Ray was chewing a thumbnail. Dad was saying something about a ‘choice’. Whereupon Mum raised her voice in outrage. ‘No,’ she said. ‘No, Jim, that’s not fair. That’s too much of a responsibility for them. How can you ask them to make a choice? They’ll have to go one way or another and it’ll make them feel guilty in either case . . .’
She was talking about my brother and me. God, it was annoying. When I saw Dad fold his arms, I decided that I’d had enough. Someone
has to do something, I thought. If not, we’ll never hit the road.
I walked over to where they were standing and, before they could send me away again, announced that I would go back home with Dad.
For a moment, Mum looked shocked. Then her expression changed. I’m not sure whether I’d hurt her or disappointed her, but I know she wasn’t happy. As for Dad, there was no mistaking his smug little smile. In fact, it was his triumphant air that suddenly made me mad.
I guess I was a bit tired, or something. It had been a pretty full day. Anyway, I lost it. I put my hands on my hips and said, ‘I’m only doing this to stop you two from arguing. You’re worse than me and Bethan – it’s like you’re stuck going round and round in a circle, doing the same thing over and over again. I mean, you’re not ghosts, you don’t have to get stuck. Neither do I. So maybe if I go with Dad, Dad will stop complaining, and Mum will stop getting mad at him for complaining, and Bethan won’t end up like Paul Klineberg, and everybody will just calm down because I really, really HATE ALL THIS STUPID STUFF!’
I couldn’t believe it, afterwards. I couldn’t believe what was coming out of my mouth. (Maybe I’d been picking up a few tips from Michelle, without knowing it.) But my own surprise was nothing compared to Mum’s surprise. And Dad’s, too. They just stared at me with their jaws dropped. I guess I never do raise my voice, much. Not like Michelle. I guess I’m usually pretty quiet and sensible.
Then I spoiled it all by starting to cry.
For a brief moment, everything was quiet. I could hear birds calling in the trees around us, and the distant, fading sound of a car engine. Mum and Dad seemed frozen to the spot.
It was Ray who leaned down, gave me a squeeze, and kissed the top of my head.
‘You are absolutely one-hundred-per-cent right, my darling,’ he announced. ‘And everybody here knows it.’
Rubbing my eyes, I saw Mum and Dad both stare at the ground. Dad cleared his throat. Mum surged forward, and gave me a hug.
We left the Caves about five minutes later. Dad went in Ray’s car, with me and Bethan. Mum went with Matoaka.