Page 154 of The Pearl Sister
‘You saw it.’ Even though I couldn’t look at him because he was still wrestling with my hair, I knew he was pleased I’d noticed. ‘I think I might have to cut the last shreds out.’
‘Okay, do it,’ I encouraged him, as my neck was really beginning to crick badly.
‘Right.’ He came back brandishing a large pair of kitchen scissors. ‘You know what it is that holds every human being back from fulfilling their full potential?’
‘What?’ I felt his hand tug gently at the clump of hair and then wield the scissors very close to my right ear. Van Gogh came to mind, but I put the thought away.
‘Fear. You have to cut out the fear.’
With a snip, the scissors closed in on my hair.
* * *
I didn’t know if it was some kind of weird voodoo my grandfather had performed on me, but I woke at sunrise feeling calmer.
‘I’m heading out to Jay Creek,’ he told me as we cleared away the remains of breakfast. ‘I’ll be back late. Any problem, I’ve left my mobile number on the fireplace, okay?’
‘Is there any signal here?’
‘No,’ he said with a smile. ‘You can get a couple of bars down by the creek sometimes.’ He pointed below us. ‘See you later.’
I watched him drive off in his pickup truck until he became a speck in the distance. ‘Right, Cee,’ I told myself firmly as I placed the biggest canvas I had on the easel and screwed it into place. ‘It might be a disaster, but we’re going to be brave and have a go.’ Then I angled the easel away from the view of Mount Hermannsburg, because I was going to work from memory . . .
Much later, I came to and saw the sun was setting and the pickup was making its way up the slope. I looked at what I had done so far – I only had an outline and a small painted corner, but instinct told me I was on the right track. As the pickup drew nearer, I unscrewed the canvas from the easel and hurried it into my bedroom, because I really did not want my grandfather to see it yet. Then I closed the door behind me and went to put the kettle on.
‘How did it go?’ he asked me when he arrived on the veranda.
‘Oh, okay,’ I said, pouring him a cup of coffee.
‘Good.’ He nodded but said no more.
The following morning, I was up at the crack of dawn, simply because I couldn’t wait to get started. And so it was for the next few days. Francis would often be out during the day, but would return at sunset with something good to eat. After supper, I’d disappear into my room to study my painting and think about where I should head with it the next day. I lost track of time as one day fed into the next, helped by the fact that my mobile had zero signal up here.
It did cross my mind that Chrissie might be thinking I’d been eaten by a dingo or, more logically, didn’t want to know her after what had happened that fateful morning, and that Star might be worried about me too. So I wandered down to the creek in search of a signal, found a couple of bars and texted them both.
Painting in outback. All fine.
My fingers hovered as I wondered whether to addPS Staying with my grandfather,but I decided against it and just wrote:
Speek when Im bak. No signal heer.x
Then before my mind could go wandering off to reality, I went back to my painting.
* * *
I put my brush down for the final time and stretched, feeling my right arm pulse with indignation over the way I had abused its muscles. I stared at what was in front of me, tempted to pick the brush up again and add a little dab here or there, but I knew I was hovering in the dangerous territory of over-painting something that was as near perfect as I could get it. I dragged my eyes and body away from it and went inside to make myself a strong cup of coffee, then lay down on my bed in the cool of the fan, feeling totally out of it.
* * *
‘Celaeno, can you hear me?’
‘Yup,’ I croaked.
‘It’s half past eleven and you haven’t moved since last night when I came in and found you asleep.’
I looked at the bright sun pouring in through the window and wondered why it was still shining at eleven o’clock at night.
‘You’ve slept for almost fifteen hours.’ My grandfather smiled down at me. ‘Here, I’ve brought you some coffee.’
