Nina couldn’t contain her excitement. The young magpie geese had come to Red Gums for their first swim in the river. Sunshine and shadows striped the Bunyip a dramatic black and gold as they approached the edge. The birds milled about, chattering to themselves, too tentative at first to dip a toe in the water.
‘Don’t be scared,’ said Sophie. As if on a dare, the biggest one stepped in, puddling her beak in the shallows and whistling encouragement to the others. One by one the goslings slipped into the river. Their legs paddled automatically. Soon they were swimming about, nibbling at reeds, exploring the sheltered corner with excited calls. Sophie settled herself cross-legged on the bank while Nina took photos. Amazing. Magpie geese had returned to the Bunyip.
‘Look.’ Sophie giggled. One gosling was upside down, with just his tail poking up. The others watched curiously. Then they were all doing it, diving and splashing and torpedoing beneath the surface in madcap play. After twenty minutes or so they all trooped out of the water and gathered around Sophie, drying their feathers and preening contentedly. The biggest one climbed onto Sophie’s lap and grumbled when Sophie stood up and dislodged her.
‘Thank you for bringing them to see me.’ Nina picked up two of the goslings and they peeped in loud protest.
‘That’s Amelia and Abigail,’ said Sophie. ‘They’re named after the geese in The Aristocats, and they’re very sooky.’ The girl took the birds from Nina and they went quiet, snuggling into her arms.
‘So they all have names now?’
‘Nearly all of them.’ Sophie squatted down. As many goslings as could fit scrambled onto her knee. The unlucky leftovers perched on her feet. ‘There’s Odette.’ She pointed to the biggest one. ‘You know her. This one’s Melody. Then there’s Ping, and Boris.’
‘Boris?’ asked Nina.
‘I named him after the goose in Balto. I absolutely love that movie.’
‘Of course.’ Nina glanced at Ric, who shrugged and grinned. ‘I should have guessed.’
‘And this is Donald and Daisy and Daffy.’ Sophie picked up each gosling in turn.
‘How do you know if they’re girls or boys?’ asked Nina.
Sophie looked a little embarrassed. ‘Poppi looked at their bottoms.’
‘What about this little one?’ Nina picked up a baby, smaller and weaker than the others. It flapped its tiny wings and cried desperately for Sophie. Nina examined it. ‘Look, it’s got a crooked neck.’
Sophie took the gosling protectively in her arms, soothing it with soft clicks of her tongue. ‘And a crooked leg. Poppi said he was in the egg too long. He doesn’t have a name yet. I haven’t thought of the right one.’
‘How about Quasimodo?’ said Ric.
‘Don’t be so mean.’ Sophie glared at him. ‘I’ve seen that cartoon, Dad. Quasimodo’s ugly. And he’s got a giant wart that covers one eye.’
‘How about Igor then?’ Ric pulled a face, bent over and started lumbering around the yard.
‘Stop it,’ yelled Sophie, covering the little gosling’s ears. ‘I’ve seen Frankenstein too. I told you, he’s not a monster. He’s beautiful. He’s just a bit crooked, that’s all.’
For some reason Ric was now leaping around, scratching and hooting like a monkey. ‘You’re being stupid, Dad.’ Sophie looked pleadingly at Nina. ‘Make him stop.’
Nina stifled a smile. ‘Come and see the ducklings,’ she said. ‘They’re freckled ducks, I’ve discovered. Very special. Almost as special as your babies.’
The goslings scurried after Sophie towards the duck pen, surprisingly fleet of foot with outstretched wings and wild, ringing cries. They must be a month old by now. Adult plumage was showing through their soft down. In another month they’d be flying. Historically, their parents would lead them on a flight northwest to the Queensland border or beyond, to seek out permanent water holes and see out the dry season. There was no hope of that now. It had died, along with their parents.
The goslings made friends with the ducklings through the chicken wire of their pen. Then they fanned out on the grass, using their beaks to explore, tugging and pulling at anything in their path. What would happen to them? A cloud settled on Nina as she watched the young birds. The first pied geese at Billabong for almost a century and they’d never claim their birthright.
‘Sophie, I want to talk to you,’ said Nina. ‘About your birds. About when they grow up.’
‘Poppi says he’ll clip their wings, and they can live on our dam.’ A certain tone in the girl’s voice told Nina that she didn’t approve of her grandfather’s plan.
‘Magpie geese are protected,’ said Nina. ‘You’re not allowed to keep them as pets. And anyway, they’re wild birds. They’re meant to be free, like your tadpoles, and your turtle. Free like Elsa, the lioness.’
‘I know.’ Sophie kissed Odette on her proud head, and looked at Nina with unhappy eyes. ‘Tell me what to do.’
‘I don’t know myself yet,’ said Nina. ‘Let me do some research. Their best bet would be to join a flock of wild birds, ones who could teach them their migration route. But I’ve no idea where the nearest magpie geese might be. They’ve been locally extinct for years.’
‘They think I’m their mother,’ said Sophie.
‘They do. And you want the best for them, don’t you?’ Sophie nodded. ‘That’s settled then. I’ll work something out, and in the meantime, you just keep looking after those goslings the way you’ve been doing.’ Sophie nodded again and Nina pulled her in for a hug.
‘I’ve been thinking, Soph,’ said Ric, who’d been standing nearby listening. ‘What you need is a pet. A proper one, one that Nina won’t take off you.’
Sophie’s eyes lit up. ‘I’d never ask for anything ever again if I could have a horse.’
Nina was almost as excited as Sophie at the prospect. The girl had been having lessons for a month now. Ric dropped her off twice a week. Sophie called it ‘going to pony club’. She always arrived in full uniform, neat tie and all, crisply laundered, courtesy of Max, apparently. Nina found the girl to be a keen and capable student, but they spent as much time talking as riding. Sophie had started bringing her homework along. ‘Will you help me? I suck at maths.’
‘Why don’t you ask Ric, or your grandfather?’
Sophie had hung her head. ‘Don’t want them to think I’m dumb.’ So after the riding lesson they’d often sit on the shady riverbank and do sums or reading. Sometimes they’d draw birds. Nina enjoyed teaching Sophie what Eva had taught her. To work step by step, to be a keen observer, to keep things simple. Sometimes she helped Sophie write letters to her mother.
The child was opening up, telling Nina odds and ends about her life with Rachael. Pieced together, they formed a compelling story of hardship. Sophie’s maternal grandparents were dead. She hadn’t stayed in one place long enough to make lasting friendships or have any real educational continuity. Consequently, she struggled at school and felt stupid. Her mother Rachael was often sick. There were weeks when she wouldn’t get out of bed, and Sophie became the parent, making her coffee and toast and missing school. These episodes of illness had been growing worse. Once last year Sophie had been taken into foster care. She’d run away and found her way back home. Rachael had packed them up and moved to Queensland. There’d been a lot of boyfriends, some nice, some not so much. If anybody ever needed some love and stability – and a horse – it was this little girl.
‘Sophie’s making good progress,’ said Nina. ‘But there are limits to what I can teach her on Flicka. She really needs something smaller.’
Ric turned to his daughter. ‘How about a deal?’ he said. ‘I’ll get you a horse if you behave at school.’
‘It’s not my fault,’ said Sophie, voice rising and with a rebellious tilt to her head. ‘Mrs Taylor picks on me, and the other kids are mean.’
‘They’re mean?’ said Ric. ‘They’re not the ones starting fights . . . and biting, for Christ’s sake. Just three weeks in and I’ve already been called down to the school half a dozen times. Including on your first day, no less.’
Sophie opened her mouth to argue, but must have thought better of it. ‘I’ll try.’
‘No,’ said Ric. ‘If you want that horse, you won’t just try. You’ll do it.’
Nina frowned. Was it her place to jump in, to explain a few things to Ric? Tell him it wasn’t going to be that simple for Sophie to just decide to behave?
‘Will you really get me a horse?’
‘Promise.’ Ric held out his arm. ‘Deal?’
Sophie took a while to respond, like she was weighing up the pros and cons. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I do really, really want a horse, so I suppose it’s a deal.’ They shook hands.
‘Trouble at school?’ asked Nina, as Sophie ran down to the horse yards to say hello to Monty and Flicka.
‘Sophie picks fights. She talks back to the teacher, walks out of class whenever she feels like it. Half the time she won’t go to school at all. Says she can’t leave those damned geese.’
‘There’s a fair bit on her plate,’ said Nina. ‘Her mother, a new school . . . and getting used to you. Can’t be easy dealing with all that.’
‘Me?’ Ric flashed her a melting smile. ‘I’m a pushover.’
‘Be serious,’ said Nina. ‘She’s had it pretty tough. Don’t expect too much too soon.’
They wandered back to the verandah. Ric leaned over the rail, staring into the middle distance. Nina joined him and for a moment their arms brushed together. ‘Are you happy, Nina?’
The question caught her off guard. Was she happy? ‘Yes, most of the time.’
Ric smiled but his eyes were sad. ‘Funny how things go.’ A pair of butterflies flew briefly round their heads, then danced together in the sunshine. ‘Life sure is different from what you think it’ll be, you know, when you’re a kid.’
‘Why so philosophical all of a sudden?’ she asked.
‘Tell me, Nina. How did you think your life would turn out, way back when?’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ she said. ‘Not too different from what it is.’ His lips pressed into a tight line. ‘What about you?’
‘Me?’ Ric’s unflinching gaze locked onto hers. ‘I thought that together, you and I were going to conquer the world.’