CHAPTER 10

Three days later, Grandpa spots Evie and Rhino wandering in the garden and leaves the fuggy warmth of the study to join them.

Pale, puffy clouds sit high in the sky, but there’s a sneaking streak of blue, with the promise of better weather.

“Rhino amazes me,” Grandpa confides to Evie. “I can’t recall ever seeing a more placid animal, let alone a rhinoceros.”

Evie smiles and scratches behind Rhino’s ear.

The ladies peck around him, weaving in and around his legs while he picks at the grass. Albine takes flight and sits upon Rhino’s rump. He doesn’t seem to mind, in fact, he doesn’t bat an eyelid.

“I’ve always assumed the rhinoceros to be an aggressive animal. But upon further reading, I have come to the conclusion this is because people hunt them for their horns.”

The word “hunt” sends a shiver through Evie. She too has been doing her own reading about the rhinoceros, discovering with disgust that their horns are a precious prize.

“This rhinoceros, however, has a genuinely kind soul.”

As Evie picks mouthfuls of clover for Rhino, he’s aware of her every move. It’s like he has a sixth sense, always knowing where Evie is. She stops every few paces to pat his head and scratch his hairy ears.

In a cluster of foxgloves, a flittering sound draws their attention. It’s a small bird, hovering as it drinks nectar from the bell-like purple flower.

Evie looks at Grandpa, her eyebrows shooting high.

“It’s a spinebill, Evie. Not usually seen in these parts but, of course, unseasonal weather can change that. They’re also called Tasmanian hummingbirds. See how it hovers to feed, rather than perch on a branch? They have a joyful way of floating through the air outside of time.” Grandpa’s voice sounds wistful. “Your grandmother Amelie believed when a hummingbird appears, anything is possible.”

Smiling, Evie kneels down to watch the little bird. She leans back against Rhino and he snuffles her hair.

“Do you know why rhinos like mud, Evie?” asks Grandpa. He plonks himself down on the love seat in the rose arbor – or what was the rose arbor. It’s now a tangled overgrown mess.

With her hand resting on Rhino’s neck, Evie shakes her head and looks at Grandpa with inquisitive eyes.

“Rolling in mud keeps them cool. It removes parasites, like ticks, and it protects their skin, preventing them from getting sunburned.”

A beam of winter sun peeks through the clouds. Evie holds her face up to it, enjoying the rays.

As she scratches Rhino under his chin, he snuffles her face and hair. He gently nibbles her ears, breathing in her milky honey scent. They’re completely absorbed in one another and as they’re gazing into each other’s eyes, Rhino curls his lip and plants a soft kiss on Evie’s forehead. It even makes a wet sucking noise. Evie wraps her arms around Rhino’s head and they remain this way for the longest moment.

The golden-haired child is like the sun and the moon. He feels his heartbeat slow down at her touch when she scratches him behind his ears. The human child makes him see what’s right in front of him. Strange hovering birds, juicy purple-colored flowers, odd-looking trees he’s never seen before. Silly, stupid dogs, who have actually turned out to be excellent company. Staring into her sky-blue eyes, Rhino sees himself, he sees where he’s come from. He sees his memories, a window into his past and he can read her like wind swaying in the grass. His pain is still there; the blackness still lurks somewhere inside him. But she’s a balm, like stinking black mud, only better. He feels her heart swell and he knows by the way her pupils dilate that she adores him. And the feeling is entirely mutual.

Grandpa sits up straight, bearing witness to this remarkable, tender moment. He rubs his eyes and leaves his hands clasped over his mouth.

“Oh, no. No, Evie. I have made a terrible mistake.”

Evie looks at Grandpa in alarm. So too does Rhino, picking up on the change of tone in his voice.

“I should’ve sent Rhino away immediately,” says Grandpa. “Blast the floodwaters. I should have done more, sent him somewhere, anywhere, as long as it was far away from here.”

But Grandpa has always known that when Evie befriends an animal, she’s devoted. She’s just spent the past week caring for Rhino, spending every spare moment with him. They have bonded, like a limpet and a rock, and he knows their connection is pure-hearted.

Grandpa has just witnessed it with his very own eyes.

Evie knew the moment she locked eyes with Rhino there was something special about him, and it didn’t take long for her to come to love him with the same fierceness she has for her own grandpa and for Cook and Mr Duffer and everybody else at Lunar House.

“How could I have let this happen?” whispers Grandpa. “How will I ever separate you two? Haven’t you both been through enough?”

Evie goes to Grandpa and clambers up onto his lap. She wraps her arms around his neck and nestles her head into his chest.

Rhino plods closer and softly sighs. He hangs his head too, staring at them through long eyelashes, with a solemn expression on his face that says, yes, we are in agreeance. We have been through enough.