Jock has set up tables, shaded by black and white umbrellas, on the footpath outside the pub. A four-wheel drive, the same model as Blake’s, rounds the bend to the main street.
It’s not his car.
Two weeks and three days have passed since I’ve seen him. He’s called once, the day after Merrylegs lost her foal. And much as I wanted to tell him what had happened, even thinking about doing so took away my words.
That might have put him off calling again.
We’ve exchanged texts.
How are the horses? Eeyore? The goats?
Harry and Darcy escaped from the garden and went to the primary school. Jock found Harry in the vegetable patch and Darcy in the library.
*
At a game park. No reception.
Be careful of your shoulder.
*
When are you back?
Still in Nairobi. I leave at the end of the week.
I’ll be at the zoo on Thursday and Friday.
*
Today it’s Tuesday. Mandy, wearing smart black jodhpurs and a collared white shirt, is laughing as she shakes Jock’s hand, but sobers immediately when she sees me. She brings a carafe of water and two plastic cups to the table.
‘I was terribly sorry to hear about Merrylegs,’ she says. ‘It must have been heartbreaking. How are you managing?’
‘Merrylegs is doing … well now.’
‘I bumped into Beatrice this morning. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have known.’
‘I haven’t told Phoebe and Patience yet.’
‘Why on earth not?’ She slaps her own hand. ‘My apologies. I’m not here to judge.’
‘I’ll tell them, but …’ I take a sip of water. ‘Patience and I have talked about her baby and Merrylegs’ foal just about every … week. They … were both due at the end of the year and—’
‘It’s appropriate that you grieve in your own way, but she’ll want to know.’
‘If I tell her … what happened, I’ll cry. That … will upset her.’
‘She and Phoebe would want to support you.’
‘I’d prefer to tell them in person.’
‘How about Blake? Does he know?’
‘I’ll tell him … when he gets back.’
When Jock waves a menu in our direction, Mandy smiles and holds up a thumb. ‘I saw Thomasina this morning. What an engaging child.’
‘Jock said it … would take weeks to get an appointment with a psychologist in town. Thanks for coming out of retirement again.’
‘Thomasina told me the choking incident was “an unfortunate event” and she now has cinnamon toothpaste.’
‘She’s extremely articulate.’
‘And you, Prim? How are you getting on? Last time I saw you—’
‘How is Mr Knightley?’
‘Galloping around the paddock, thanks to you.’ She drums her fingers on the table. ‘Now to Blake Sinclair, or Saint Sinclair, according to Jock. You were afraid to get close.’
I link my hands neatly as if I were at school. ‘I … was.’
She taps the table. ‘Only share what you’re comfortable with.’
‘I wished he was there when Merrylegs lost the foal.’ The words come easily. ‘He wants more than a one-night stand and so do I. I think he’d … stay here, for a while at least, but I don’t know if that … would be the right thing for him to do.’
‘Surely that’s for him to decide?’
‘I need forever.’ A shaky breath. ‘I also need him to be happy.’
‘If he loves you, he will be.’
‘You reckon?’
‘Through no fault of her own, your mother abandoned you. Your father, thankfully dead and buried, betrayed you. It’s not at all surprising these things affected not only your ability to communicate but your confidence.’
‘I’ve managed okay. I still do.’
‘You have trust issues, certainly, but you know what trust looks like.’
‘Blake said I don’t rely on anyone, including my sisters.’
‘You hide your pain to spare the feelings of others—we’ve discussed this before. And if Blake has seen that …’ She raises her cup. ‘He might be more than a pretty face.’
‘He is.’
‘Trust requires vulnerability. You have to open yourself up to the possibility of being hurt in order to form healthy relationships.’
‘I have good friends.’
‘Intimate relationships.’
‘I trust Blake more than I’ve trusted any other man.’
‘As all the other men have been one-night stands, I’m afraid that’s a very low bar.’
‘I was trying to do what was best for him, but I hurt him.’
‘If he was hurt, it shows that he cares about you. Keep an open mind. Give him the opportunity to prove he’s worthy of trust.’
‘I might’ve pushed back too hard.’
‘Call your sisters, Prim. Talk to them.’
In response to Phoebe’s last few calls, I’ve messaged back, so it’s not too surprising when she sets up a Zoom call. At three o’clock on Wednesday afternoon, she’s at a playground with Lissa. I can’t see Lissa’s face because the brim of her hat is so broad, but she’s digging in a sandpit with a spade. ‘She might be an engineer,’ Phoebe says.
Patience, in a café after an appointment with her obstetrician, holds up her thumb. ‘Go the STEM girls!’
We talk about Patience, who shows off her neat but significant bump. And Phoebe, who is looking forward to moving back to Warrandale before Christmas. My sisters turn to me.
‘What have you been up to, Prim?’
I’m not ready to talk about Merrylegs. But there is something else I can share.
‘Do you remember Blake … Sinclair?’
‘The zoo’s spectacular human exhibit who came to our father’s funeral?’ Patience says. ‘What about him?’
‘I like him. A lot.’
‘You’re dating?’ Phoebe scoops Lissa up and sits her on her lap. ‘How long will he be at the zoo?’
‘Until Christmas.’
‘What happens after that?’
‘I just … wanted to tell you I liked him, that’s all.’
‘How does he feel about you?’ Patience says. ‘Because if he doesn’t love you as much as you deserve, then I’ll—’
‘Patience!’ Phoebe sends our sister a warning glance. ‘Prim and Blake met less than a year ago. Give them a chance.’
Patience sits back, crosses her arms. ‘How long did it take for you and Sinn?’
My eldest sister opens her mouth and shuts it again. She frowns. Then, ‘Patience is right, Prim. Does he know how good and kind you are? Does he love you? Can you trust him?’
‘I shouldn’t have told you.’
‘Bring him to Warrandale at Christmas.’ Phoebe smiles encouragingly. ‘We can get to know him.’
‘Good idea,’ Patience says. ‘I’ll interrogate him.’
When my phone buzzes on Thursday afternoon, I’m at the gate of the takhi enclosure. One of the foals, a particularly pale colt with thick dark eyelashes, looks up from his hay.
‘Goodnight, little one.’
I glance at my phone. Rowena.
‘Could I have a word?’ she says.
‘Professor O’Hara wants me at the aviary.’ I pick up my bag. ‘We can talk on the way.’
‘As this concerns Douglas Farquhar,’ she says. ‘I’d prefer to do it in person.’
I know about blood. Surely Rowena doesn’t want to talk about that? ‘I’m working an extra shift tomorrow. Can’t we do it—’
‘This is important. I’ll call the professor and let him know you’ve been unavoidably delayed.’
‘Are you in your office?’
‘The giraffe enclosure is on the way to the aviary. I’ll meet you near the treatment pens. Ten minutes?’
As soon as I disconnect, I call Nate.
‘Great to hear from you, Prim. How’re you doing?’
‘Rowena, head of HR at the zoo, just called. She said she wants to talk about Farquhar. I know they were at university together, but I saw her arguing with him at the pub and—’
‘Whoa. You what?’
‘It … was weeks ago.’
‘What were they arguing about?’
‘Rowena said politics, but I’m not sure I believed her.’
A solidly built man dressed in a brown zoo shirt, the colour worn by maintenance staff, stands at the gate to the treatment pens. I’m still ten metres away, but when he sees me, he swings the gate wide and stands back.
I slow my pace. ‘I … won’t be long.’
‘Prim?’ Nate again. ‘Can you tell me what Rowena said when she called?’
The sky is streaked with pink and grey. More rain? ‘She mentioned Farquhar. Then she said we had to talk in person. I tried to get out of it, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. She sounded a bit odd.’
‘I’m not exactly sure. Jumpy?’ When I increase my pace, the man stands back again. ‘I’m here and Rowena is waiting so I’d better go in. I … won’t share anything, but I thought I’d better let you know.’
‘What do you mean “I’m here”? Where?’
‘At the giraffe pens. Rowena didn’t want me to go out of my way.’
‘Okey dokey, Prim.’ Nate drawls slowly. ‘What I want you to do now is—’
‘Primrose Cartwright?’ The man has left his post at the gate and is only a metre away. The red and black letters on his cap spell out Kawasaki. Why not a zoo cap? ‘Rowena’s out the back.’
‘I’ll call again soon,’ I say to Nate.
The giraffes will be locked up in their overnight shelters, which are screened from the pens by a towering timber wall. Rowena, hair piled high on her head, stands next to one of the barriers used to separate giraffes from handlers and vets during treatment.
‘Thank you for coming,’ she says. ‘I really appreciate it.’ She nods towards the man. ‘You’ve met Joshua? He’s been kind enough to offer me a lift to Sydney.’
‘Are you away for the … weekend?’
‘Not quite.’ Pulling at a ring on her finger, she aims for a smile. ‘We’re friends, Prim. Aren’t we?’
‘I’ve appreciated your … support.’
‘I assured you of that on your first day here.’ She looks over her shoulder, to the service road that leads to the rear of the zoo and the highway. As two men get out of a white sedan parked on the road, she turns to Joshua.
‘Go and let them in.’
As Joshua walks away, Rowena turns back to me. ‘When Joshua called me from the gate, he said you were on your phone. Who were you talking to?’
‘Why … would you … want to know that?’
‘Douglas was adamant you’d made other calls.’ She’s fidgety, defensive. ‘I told him he was being paranoid.’
‘What calls?’
‘As an optimist by nature, I’m inclined to think the best of people.’ Rowena’s smile is forced. ‘Unfortunately, I’m beginning to come around to Douglas’s way of thinking.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘After the veterinary board inquiry was settled, did you make further allegations against Douglas? Did you report his use of PMSG?’
She knows. Which means … what?
‘I … wasn’t sure … what hormone had been used.’
‘Douglas was a fool to cause such a fuss. He could have blamed Pascal, paid him off and sent him back to Argentina.’
‘Pascal administered the hormone?’
She flicks the air. ‘It was simply a lark, a one-off.’
‘Did Farquhar know about it?’
‘Not until it had happened.’
‘He covered it up.’
‘The reputation of his stud was his primary concern. And to preserve that reputation, he went after you.’
‘You knew this all along?’
She purses her lips. ‘I’d like you to answer my questions now. How did you report the use of PMSG?’
‘Why do you think I did?’
‘Why won’t you answer when this is just between us?’ We both turn our heads as Joshua walks through the gate, the other two men either side of him. ‘You lose nothing by telling the truth.’
Rowena is blurting secrets. Will engaging with her help Nate?
‘I … wanted to confirm the use of PMSG … was illegal. I called a government department. Did Farquhar find out? Is that … why he kicked me out of my house?’
‘Evicting you drew attention to the original matter. It was sheer idiocy on Douglas’s part.’
‘I don’t understand how you’re involved.’
A brief hesitation. An attempt at a smile. ‘This is why I wanted to see you. Douglas and I suspect there’s some sort of … investigation going on. We’d like to know who’s behind it.’
‘An investigation into PMSG?’
‘A broader one.’
‘I can’t help.’
‘Can’t, or won’t? I’ve done a lot for you, Prim. I hope you won’t disappoint me.’
‘I know about the cattle, that’s all.’
She looks at me closely. ‘Nothing else?’
‘No.’
Her gaze hardens as she holds out her hand. ‘Give me your phone.’
‘No!’
‘Joshua!’
All three men approach. The other men are younger than Joshua, but also thickset. The tallest of the two has a line of studs in the rim of his ear. The other has closely cropped bleached blond hair.
Joshua holds out a hand. ‘Give it.’
I swallow. ‘No.’
‘He wants the last number you dialled,’ Rowena says. ‘If I were you, I’d give him your phone.’
When I struggle to unlock the phone, Joshua snatches it and holds it in front of me. ‘Do it.’
After I put my finger on the pad, Joshua finds my last call and searches my contacts. Nathan Gillespie. UN Secretariat. When he takes the phone to Rowena, she stares at the screen.
‘Shit!’ She spits the word.
I don’t protest when Joshua puts my phone in his back pocket. Or when the man with the studs looks me up and down and draws a line across his mouth. I don’t complain that I’m cold and the railing cuts into my back.
I’m in a classroom with my teacher reading Sammy the Slippery Seal. I’m with a lizard at the pond at the bottom of the garden. I’m at a school camp, alone and afraid in a tent.
Primrose Cartwright. The one who doesn’t speak.
I’m as small and silent as I can be.