I laughed. ‘I can’t afford an assistant.’
But he didn’t want to be paid. He just wanted to learn. ‘It wouldn’t cost you anything and I could organize things for you. There’s a friend of mine got an old Land-Rover he’d let me hire, and if you’re camping out…’ He gave a self-conscious little laugh, knowing he had let his enthusiasm run away with him. ‘I’ve never done a practical survey under the direction of somebody with your sort of experience.’
‘We’ll see how the analysis works out,’ I said. And after that we talked of mining generally. He’d worked on an IP survey at St Ives — ‘That’s the other side of the causeway that crosses the salt lake called Lefroy, south of Kambalda.’ He had done a geomagnetic on a prospect near Mt Yindarlgooda to the east of Kalgoorlie, another in the Laverton area. He talked of microprobe analyses and how they indicated the cobalt content of pentlandite and the nickel content of pyrrhotite. This was laboratory stuff, all very technical, and soon we were deep in the nature and origins of sulphides and ultrabasics. There was a little breeze out there on the verandah and we stayed there talking until his mother called us in for coffee and home-made cakes.
I went to bed almost immediately afterwards, but the room seemed airless and I didn’t get to sleep for a long time. I was woken about midnight by the slam of the flyscreen door, the murmur of voices. They rose and fell, half inaudible; then suddenly Culpin’s voice loud and slurred with drink: ‘You say that again, boy …’
Silence and the hot breeze rattling at the pale square of the window. Then the hoarse voice started again, wheedling at first, then rising quickly in anger: ‘I work my guts out, risking me neck to give you things I never had, and you throw it in my face. You silly little fool, you don’t know what life’s about. Now, come on — ‘ There was the sound of a scuffle, followed by a blow and the crash of something falling.
I was out of bed then, but though I moved fast, Edith Culpin was ahead of me, the parlour door open and her figure framed in the light of a torch. Beyond her, I could see the rumbled bedclothes on the couch and Culpin standing over his son, his big hands gripping his shoulders, shaking him. A small table lay on its side, a china vase in pieces on the floor. And Kennie, his lip cut and blood oozing, speaking in a whisper.
Edith Culpin screamed at her husband, and he turned and stared at her, his bull of a head thrust forward. ‘Go back to bed, woman.’ His voice, still heavy and slurred, had a hard core of authority in it, and when she flew at him, he flung her back. She fell on to the couch, a breast flopping white above the pink nightdress, her hair dishevelled, sudden hate flaring in her eyes.
And then he saw me. ‘Thought to keep it to yourself, did you?’ He was swaying, his face glistening with sweat, the small eyes greedy. He’d had a lot to drink. ‘Think I don’t know the price of antimony?’ He let go of Kennie and took a step towards me, his lips pursed in a little smile. ‘You come between me and my son, an’ I’ll break your neck for you.’ His eyes were mean now, anger feeding on the alcohol in him. He was suddenly dangerous. I stood there in the doorway bracing myself to meet him.
Kennie was looking at me, the cut lip swelling and his eyes scared. ‘I’m s-sorry,’ he mumbled.
I started to say something and then I turned away and went back to my room. I knew it was no good. He was afraid of his father and there was nothing I could do to stop him talking. No point now, anyway.
I heard Edith Culpin go back to bed, the sound of her crying audible through the partition. Shortly afterwards her husband’s footsteps passed my door. No words between them, only the sound of his movements as he undressed and got into bed beside her. Then silence, the house gripped in stillness. Even the breeze outside seemed to have died.
The sun was up when I woke, shining hot on my face, and the kettle whistled in the kitchen, footsteps padding in the passage outside my door. Culpin was halfway through his breakfast when I went into the kitchen. Small and bloodshot, his eyes glanced at me quickly, then back to his bacon and eggs He ate with concentration, and his wife at the stove didn’t look at me, didn’t speak. She was clammed up tight as though desperately trying to keep a hold on her emotions. There was no sign of Kennie.
The smell of coffee, and the bacon frying, were the only good things about the kitchen that morning and I ate in a silence that was tense with unspoken words. Edith Culpin was in her dressing gown, a shapeless cotton print, and sitting there, drinking her coffee, her large greenish eyes fixed on her husband, she sudden!) banged her cup down. ‘Kennie’s gone.’ Her voice trembled.
He finished his coffee and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Time that boy grew up.’ And then he looked at her ‘If you hadn’t dropped your second, you wouldn’t have spoilt him the way you have.’
They stared at each other a moment, hostile and without understanding. Then Edith Culpin began to cry, the tears dripping from her tired eyes, soundless.
We left for the Palace almost immediately, Culpin driving in silence. After he had parked the ute, he didn’t get out, but turned to me and said, ‘I bin thinking, about this Golden Soak. You gonna mention it to Ferdie?’
‘No point till I know what the analysis is.’
‘But if it’s good and the mine comes up for sale — ‘ There was a crafty, eager look in his bloodshot eyes. ‘I remember the old Comet. That was a de Bernales mine, one of the few good ones he ever had. Up the track from Marble Bar, just beyond Chinaman’s Pool. I was a youngster at the time. Went up there to make my fortune and ended up serving behind the bar at the Ironclad.’ He was smiling to himself, the eagerness still there so that for a moment he looked a younger man. ‘That’s how I know about de Bernales and his Commonwealth Finance.’ He gripped my arm, suddenly urgent. ‘My cut of the Blackridge deal will be through in a week or two, and this Golden Soak mine’s unsafe, Kennie says I always wanted to go back to the Pilbara an’ if we could get it cheap — ‘ He left it at that, apparently content that he’d made his position clear. ‘You think about it, eh?’ And he climbed out and went into the hotel.
Ten minutes later we were all four of us at the airfield. And the last thing Kadek said to me before he boarded the plane was, ‘You put half of that two thousand in Lone Minerals. But don’t wait. Do it today.’ He was relaxed, almost jaunty. ‘I’ll tell you when to sell. And keep in touch.’ He handed me a card. ‘There’s my phone number. Ring me in Perth if there’s anything urgent. Otherwise a weekly report by letter.’
We drove back by a different route, past a big caravan park, washing listless on the line and the heat already heavy. ‘I’ll be in the Pal midday,’ Culpin said as he dropped me off at Petersen Geophysics. ‘We can talk about it then over a beer.’ The hide of the man was almost unbelievable.
Petersen was already in his office. ‘Is all right, your analysis.’ He gave me a toothy grin and a heavy slap on the back. ‘Gold 53/4 ounces average. Is about what I t’ink. The antimony is not so good, more variable — 2.1 per cent, 3.4, and on the third sample 0.2 per cent. Okay?’ He handed me the analyst’s typed report, together with my samples, and I paid him his fee from the wad of notes Kadek had given me. ‘Now you go t’ink about what you do next, eh?’ He seemed genuinely pleased that the results were good. ‘Also, I haf a letter for you — is delivered by Chris’s son Kennie this morning.’