CHAPTER 40

All night the south-easterly howls around Lunar House. It brings down an old gum tree and blows several more tiles off the roof. In the early hours of the morning the wind finally blows itself out.

Evie and Rhino are up early and walking on the beach. It’s their last walk together. There’s not a breath of wind and it feels strange to Evie not to have it whistling through her ears.

Evie carries with her a heavy heart weighed down with worry about Rhino’s future. How he’ll cope in captivity, being shut in a small enclosure and how he’ll handle being away from everyone who loves him. But Rhino’s in a chipper mood as if he’s trying to cheer her up. He moos at Evie as he chases the waves. He turns and runs after her, dodging and weaving around her, snorting and huffing. He hooks seaweed onto his horn and swings it around and around in the air. It lands on his head, and it looks like he has a huge mop of hair.

Evie chases after him. He spins his tail, farts and takes off, spraying sand everywhere. His bottom wobbles as he dashes up the beach, jaunty and swashbuckling.

Returning to the stables, Evie feels like she’s going through the motions, but isn’t fully present. Rhino plods after her, following her into the stables as she makes him up one last bucket of warm bran and molasses. She sits in the foaling stall, watching him eat.

Closing her eyes, she listens to his rhythmic chewing and swallowing. There’s a rumbling sound coming from deep inside his belly. It’s a satisfied sound, not unlike a cat’s purr. It’s lulling, until, that is, Rhino gets to the bottom of the bucket and he tips it up onto his head and bangs it around to make sure he’s got it all. Evie leans her head against his. Rhino snuffles her face.

Dominique shuffles in and Rhino swirls his tail. After a huge burp, they pad around in a circle in the straw, before settling down together for a morning nap. With one last, lingering look, Evie closes the stall door.

As soon as she walks into the kitchen, Evie feels the change in atmosphere. It’s the same feeling she gets when the weather gauge drops and the barometric pressure rises. Grandpa calls it the “the calm before the storm”.

Evie’s stomach swirls with anxiety and she can hear her beating heart.

George has been up early too, preparing to leave. He refused to take breakfast, his last at Lunar House, but he comes down to speak to Cook. Evie is in the pantry gathering breakfast for the little monkeys when George appears in the kitchen.

“Thank you for everything, Cook. Thank you for feeding me, for teaching me how to cook, for sharing your recipes. For being you – wonderful you.”

“Come ’ere, lad.” Cook embraces George. “I’ve packed provisions for yer journey.” Her voice breaks as she hands him a basket full of his favorite food.

George walks through the hallways of Lunar House one last time and Evie trails after him like his shadow, following him into the study. He inhales its smoky, bookish scent and leans against the mantelpiece.

“I love this room and the people who dwell within,” says George looking at Evie, his eyes beginning to fill with tears. There’s a fishy tang in the air, and George gives a sad laugh, pointing to limpets Evie has left on the hearth.

George runs his hands along the bookshelves. Evie knows he’s savoring the coolness of their leather spines. He tickles Claudette and Florette under their furry chins, and he kneels down to pat Albine, who is sitting on her velvet cushion. He strokes her plump speckled chest. She burk burks and the sight of it tugs at Evie’s heart.

“I can’t remember a happier time in my life, Evie, than the time I’ve spent here. I pray what I’ve put into motion will play out the way it should.”

Evie stares at George wide-eyed with worry.

“It’s all right, Evie. I’m putting things right,” whispers George, and Evie notices his chin trembling. She nods, speechless, wanting to ask more, but not having the right words to do so.

George takes one last lingering look at the study and Evie follows him, biting her lip, and doing her best to be brave.

Grandpa and Evie stand arm in arm at the portico of Lunar House, waiting to say goodbye to George. Grandpa’s keeping an eye on the front gate, waiting for the bullock dray to arrive from Breamlea. Evie leans into his side and he reaches down for her hand without looking at her. Grandpa has dark shadows under his eyes and Evie’s are red and puffy.

The clouds break apart and the sun comes out, making the wet trees and grass glisten.

The coach arrives first, easing to a stop beside them. The driver jumps down, nods at Grandpa and begins to load George’s luggage.

Then they hear it. The wheels grinding on gravel, the stomping and snorting of bullocks, the creaking of the dray, the cracking of a whip and loud voices yelling, carrying to them through the bush.

A moment later, the zoo handlers and the bullock dray rolls through the gates of Lunar House, pulling up at the stables.

George has heard the bullock dray too and he rushes through the front door, straight past Grandpa and Evie, hurrying to meet the bullock driver and the zoo handlers.

Evie and Grandpa observe the meeting unfolding. The men have their heads bent close together as they talk. The bullock driver starts waving his arms, he shouts and his face turns the color of a ripe plum. Three of the zoo handlers jump down from the dray and they surround George with hands on their hips, and their faces stony.

“What’s going on, Grandpa? Is George in trouble?”

“He’s fine, Evie. He’s doing fine,” says Grandpa, watching the situation through narrowed eyes.

George stands tall and continues to talk. He puts his hand inside his jacket pocket, pulling out a wad of notes, which he passes to the bullock driver and the handlers. The driver gives George a toothless grin and the handlers clap each other on the shoulder before they climb back up onto the dray.

George goes into the stables and closes the door behind him.

Oh, Rhino.

Evie refuses to look, pressing her face into Grandpa’s coat. Minutes pass. A high-pitched piping comes from the trees and Evie recognizes it as a spinebill – a bird of luck. She remembers Grandpa said “anything is possible when a hummingbird is around”, but Evie can’t believe in magic today. She snuggles further into Grandpa’s side.

Cook and Mr Duffer appear in the doorway behind them. Cook’s cheeks are tear-streaked and smudged and Mr Duffer puts his arm around her shoulders.

As the coachman nods to Grandpa to let him know he’s done, George returns from the stables.

Evie swallows a lump in her throat.

George moves from foot to foot, as if he’s nervous. He trips as he comes forward to kiss Cook goodbye. Composing himself, he shakes hands with Mr Duffer and then he’s left standing face-to-face with Grandpa. Evie’s heart gives a little lurch. How close Grandpa and George have become. George hangs off his every word and Grandpa thrives in George’s company.

“Thank you, Charlie. Thank you for everything.” George’s voice is soft and his face looks much younger. He reaches out and shakes Grandpa’s hand, clasping him on the shoulder. Grandpa pulls him in for a hug.

“You’re always welcome back here, dear boy.”

George nods, his chin beginning to wobble.

Evie’s eyes are brimming with tears as George places his hand on the top of her head and ruffles her hair. She catches her breath. She can’t say anything; she can’t trust herself not to scream.

George bows to them as his coachman opens the door for him.

Evie feels a welling up inside of her, she can’t let it go. “Rhino?” she calls to George.

George smiles at Evie and kneels down before her. “Farewell, Evie.” He pushes the hair back from her face, kissing her forehead and giving her a reassuring smile.

“Rhino?”

George swings himself up onto the step of the coach and misses, stumbling back to the ground. Cook gasps. He puts his hand up to stop them coming forward to help him and he tries again, this time making it inside the coach. He sits down, removes his hat and pokes his head out of the window.

“Rhino,” Evie wails for a third and final time.

Grandpa places his hands on her shoulders. Evie can feel his hands shaking. She has never known Grandpa to tremble and she starts to cry.

“Rhino?” says George, hanging out of the coach window as it’s moving off. “What rhino? I believe an old farmer with poor eyesight mistook a bull seal for a rhinoceros! Have you ever heard of such a thing? I haven’t seen any rhinoceros.”