Page 182 of The Pearl Sister
‘Yes.’
I saw Francis was watching me with amusement as I sold this person he’d only briefly heard of before.
‘Not gonna lie to you, Celaeno, the money’s not good,’ Mirrin said.
‘No one’s in art for the money, are they? They do it for love,’ I replied.
‘Some of us are.’ She eyed my grandfather. ‘Well, ya tell her to come and see me. Fast,’ she said as she flinched again. ‘I’m here every day this week.’
‘I will. Can you write down your number for me? I’ll get her to give you a call to arrange it.’
She did so, and I left the gallery in high excitement.
‘So, exactly who is this Chrissie?’ Francis asked me as we walked back to the truck.
‘A friend of mine,’ I said, as I hopped onto the passenger seat.
‘Where does she live?’
‘Broome.’
‘Isn’t that a little far to commute to work here every day?’ he asked as he reversed out of our parking space and we headed home.
‘Yes, but if she got the job, I’m sure she’d be prepared to move. She loved it when we were here together a couple of weeks ago. She’s an absolutely brilliant person, like, she’s totally inspirational and so passionate about art. You’d love her. I know you would.’
‘If you love her, Celaeno, I’m sure I will too.’
‘I’m going to ring her the minute I get home, tell her to call Mirrin. She’ll have to fly down here as soon as possible. It’s a shame I’ve just booked my flight and I leave tomorrow.’
‘You were the one who insisted on the non-refundable ticket,’ he reminded me.
‘Well, if she got the job, maybe we could share an apartment in town.’ My mind immediately raced forward to a future with Chrissie in it, both of us surrounded by art.
‘Or you could come and live with me, and keep house for your old grandfather,’ Francis suggested as we pulled into the drive.
‘That would be nice too,’ I said, grinning at him.
‘Tell her there’s a bed for her here. She’ll need to stop over for the night when she comes to meet Mirrin. I’ll give her some Arrernte lessons,’ he added as he unlocked the door and I ran to get my mobile from the sitting room.
‘That’s really great of you, thanks,’ I said, and dialled Chrissie’s number. She answered on the second ring.
‘Hello, stranger,’ she said. ‘Thought you’d disappeared off the face of the earth.’
‘I texted you to say I’d been out Bush painting,’ I said, smiling into my mobile because I was so happy to hear her voice. ‘With my grandfather,’ I added for good measure.
‘Strewth! So, are you related to Namatjira?’
‘No, although my grandfather is an artist.’
‘What’s his name?’
‘Francis Abraham.’
There was a pause on the line.
‘Ya kidding me!’
‘No, why? Have you heard of him?’
