all your steak, Miss Cotton,’ Hugo said gravely.
‘Amy,’ she said, sounding distracted.
‘Amy,’ he said, liking the sound of it. ‘I’m finishing mine, too. It’s a long time till breakfast. They should provide midnight snacks. Maybe a steak sandwich in the small hours? I wonder if they have spare bread?’
She glared at him. His lips twitched. He had a mystery here and, despite his vow to stay uninvolved he sat back and started to enjoy himself.
‘I’ve lost my napkin,’ he told the waiter as he went past. ‘Could I have another, please?’
Amy’s glare intensified.
‘So are you two getting off at Alice Springs?’ Maudie was asking. This train went all the way north to Darwin, but many passengers broke the journey halfway to see the fabulous rock formations: Uluru, formerly known as Ayers Rock, The Olgas, Mount Connor…
‘We are,’ Amy said. ‘Of course we are. We’ll spend a few days exploring. So many big rocks… What could make Rachel happier?’
Rachel gave a fleeting smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
‘Will you climb Uluru?’ Maudie asked her, but it was Amy who answered.
‘Uluru’s sacred to the indigenous people. They don’t like anyone climbing. I’d love to climb the Olgas, though. Did you know European explorers named the Olgas after Queen Olga of Wurtenburg, when the local people named it Kata Tjuta thousands of years ago? Then they changed Uluru to Alice Springs, naming it after someone who never even came here. How weird is that?’
‘Weird,’ Hugo agreed, finding himself increasingly drawn into the conversation. This woman was passionate, he thought. There was enough indignation in those few words to show she cared.
And then he looked closer. In Afghanistan he’d trained himself to notice tribal differences. These two women had cute blonde curls, but their skin was darker than the complexion from Irish or English heritage. It wasn’t the dark of fake tan; it was more a beautiful bronze brush. And Amy’s nose, cute and snub, was a tiny bit flattened at the end. Another of those subtle hints.
‘You have native blood,’ he said, and suddenly, wow, here was her beam again. He loved this beam. How could he make it stay on?
‘Well done, you,’ Amy said. ‘We’re three-quarters Irish, but our maternal grandmother was from a tribe near Alice. She was taken away as a child, but she talked about Kata Tjuta and Uluru all our childhood.’
‘She never came back?’
‘Sadly, no. She died when we were still kids, but we always told her we’d come. And now, with Rachel’s rocks…’
‘You’ll climb?’
‘Kata Tjuta? Rachel might not be able to,’ Amy said. ‘She’s been ill. But I will. Rachel wants rock samples, and I’ll take photos.’
‘Which is a problem all on its own,’ Rachel volunteered from her shadows. ‘Amy’s photos tend to be smudgy pictures of clouds or of her trainers.’
‘Oi. I’m better than that,’ Amy retorted.
‘Not much,’ Rachel said darkly.
‘My grandson takes wonderful photos,’ Maudie said, and Hugo realised that, for the first time in the entire trip, Maudie sounded happy. And… thoughtful? Uh oh. He knew that tone. Maudie’s Machiavellian matchmaking was about to go into overdrive. ‘And I expect you need rock samples, Rachel, my dear.’
‘I do,’ Rachel said, and she smiled, too. It was a faint echo of her sister’s smile, but she was no longer looking at her book. ‘Uluru and Kata Tjuta are made of a type of sandstone known as arkose, with shiny crystals of pink feldspar mixed in. There’s controversy about ageing. I have permission to take tiny traces to confirm composition.’
‘Hugo could cart you down boulders,’ Maudie said, in her element now and loving it. ‘He’s very strong. He’s a commando, you know.’
‘I thought commandos carted machine guns,’ Rachel said, mystified.
‘I cart steak,’ Hugo said promptly. ‘That’s been my latest mission. Steak-smuggling.’
Amy choked, and then managed to swallow laughter enough to glare at her sister. ‘We’re not here to age rocks,’ she retorted. ‘We’re here on holiday.’
‘So are we, dear,’ Maudie said serenely. ‘Are you staying at the Uluru resort?’
‘We have a room in the budget hostel…’
‘Oh, no, dear, that’ll never do,’ Maudie broke in, and Hugo thought: uh oh. Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh. But there was no way of stopping Maudie once she was on a mission. ‘Hugo and I are staying at Thurston House, a homestead set up for senior management when they need a base out here. It’s a lovely self-contained house complete with pool, staff and staff quarters. But Hugo may need to visit one of our mines and I hate being there alone. But you, dear…’ She fixed her suddenly gimlet eyes on Rachel. ‘Do you play Scrabble?’
‘I… yes,’ Rachel admitted, sounding confused. ‘But…’
‘No,’ Amy said firmly. ‘We don’t.’
‘We do,’ Rachel said, even more confused.
‘Well, yes,’ Amy said, exasperated. ‘Rachel loves words almost as much as she loves rocks. When I walk out of a room, I leave, but Rachel absquatulates. And if you think I’m making that up, she added ab and ulate to my pathetic squat and achieved untold fame in the Great Cotton Scrabble Challenge of 2007. But if you’re offering us alternative accommodation, thank you very much but Rachel and I are self-sufficient.’
‘But if your sister’s been ill, she’ll feel bad that she can’t go off and do things with you,’ Maudie countered. This was like watching a train wreck, Hugo thought. It was about to happen, whether he jumped onto the tracks or not. ‘Like I feel bad when I can’t accompany Hugo. You’ll be doing us a huge favour if you stay with us. There are four bedrooms and they’re massive. Hugo’s organised a car to meet the train. We could travel down there together, the four of us, and have fun.’
‘Maud!’ Train wreck or not, he did step into the line of impending disaster then. ‘We can’t…’
‘Neither can we,’ Amy said faintly. ‘Thank you but…’
‘But we have twenty-four hours to change your mind,’ Maudie said happily. ‘You don’t want to stay in a backpackers’, do you, Rachel?’
‘No, but…’
‘There you are, then. Meanwhile, if you feel like Scrabble in the morning, we’re in Platinum Cabins Car Two, Cabins Four and Five, with a nice little sitting room in the middle. There’s a butler person who guards our privacy but just ask for us and Hugo will okay it. He’ll more than okay it. It’ll be lovely.’
Maudie beamed and her beam almost matched Amy’s, only Amy’s wasn’t on. Amy was now looking trapped—which was pretty much how Hugo was feeling.
