“Arthur.”
Immediately he straightened. His spine unknotted, the skin slid over the ribs. He was wearing a pair of cutoff trousers tiedwith rope at the waist, the hardened sole of a foot poking under his leg. His only movement was breathing. The rise and fallof his chest.
Tommy took off his hat and held it. “Arthur, it’s me.”
Now the head turned, but slowly, little increments, his shoulders twisting around. He looked at Tommy and his eyes closedbriefly; Tommy thought he heard him exhale.
Arthur stood. Dropped the fishing pole and uncoiled his legs and rose lightly and nimbly to his feet. He walked toward Tommyin an unhurried lope, a full smile spreading across his face. All the ride down here Tommy had been figuring what to say,and now that Arthur was in front of him he couldn’t speak. But Christ it was good to see him again. For a long time he’d notknown if he would.
They embraced and held each other so tightly Tommy could feel the warmth of Arthur’s skin through his shirt. There wasn’tmuch left of him. A body down to its bones. They parted and stood assessing each other, Arthur shaking his head.
“Well, look at you, Tommy. You’re all growed up.”
“And you’re even older. You shrunk?”
“Nah, you’re taller, I reckon. Shit, you’re properly a man.”
Tommy smiled bashfully. “How you been, Arthur?”
“Better now. They let you in then?”
“Asked me for a bloody password. Tougher than a bank vault, this place.”
“They have this idea folks’ll come and try to take us back to whatever shithole we came from. Maybe they’re right. How wasyour journey down?”
“Long. I got made by that fucker Alan Ames.”
The name meant nothing to Arthur. “And how long you stopping for?”
“A few days, maybe. Look, Arthur—”
“Only a few days?”
The hurt was obvious. Tommy raised a hand. “I need to say this. I know it was a long time ago but I’m sorry for what happenedbetween us in Marree. I was being an idiot back then. I know that. I didn’t mean to run you off.”
“You never ran me off anything. Fact is, we both needed it. Maybe I shouldn’t have up and left you like I did, but I figuredyou’d be right on your own. Hell, there ain’t no hard feelings, how can there be between us? Not unless you’re really onlystopping here a couple of days?”
“Well, that’s another thing we need to talk about. I’ve a plan, you see.”
“A plan?” Arthur repeated, laughing. “’Course you bloody do.”
“For where we’re headed. Together. Unless you’d rather stick it here?”
“Mate, I’d rather stick a burning poker up my hole. I’ve had about as much of their praying as I can stomach. It’s not throughchoice I’m still living here. Tell me where we’re headed and I’m gone.”
“South,” Tommy said, smiling. “Same as we always were.”
* * *
On thin wooden chairs they sat in the land office waiting room with two other men, and a receptionist who every few seconds shot a suspicious glare at Arthur as if surprised to find him still there. Arthur’s leg bounced constantly, his gaze was pinned to the floor. He was already spooked by the city: the scale and opulence of Marvellous Melbourne was like nothing he had seen before. Thousands of people, the bicycles, buggies, and tram cars, rooftops touching the sky. Smoke belched from the factories and wharves west of the city and the river sat gray and low in the smog, while in the east it curved through swathes of manicured parkland, past the bowl of the famous cricket ground and out into the suburbs beyond. For this was where the money drained, from all that land, livestock, gold, all that labor put in by men like them, the wealth running off the pastures and scrubland in the north and flowing down here like a sewer.
“I’ll wait outside,” Arthur said, standing, but Tommy gripped his arm.
“We’re doing this together, partners, fifty-fifty like we agreed.”
Awkwardly Arthur retook his seat. The other men were watching him, nervous-looking characters wearing their very best suits,twisting their hats in their hands. Most likely their futures were on the line also, might have been waiting for this daytheir whole lives. Or maybe they owed the land man money, another month when they couldn’t pay, and had now come to haggletheir fate.
The office door opened and a skinny Italian with a crestfallen face skulked out with his eyes down. He walked past Tommy andArthur—they slid in their boots—and out of the front door without a word.
“Mr. Thompson,” the secretary said, nodding. “You’re next.”
Tommy stood, collected his holdall, waited while reluctantly Arthur rose to his feet. They walked past the reception deskand in through the still-open office door; Arthur closed it behind him, the letters running backward on the stenciled glass.“Sit down, sit down,” the land man barked from behind a cluttered desk, not even a shake of hands. They sat, the land manfrowning at Arthur and no doubt their attire: they were in their normal work clothes, they didn’t have anything else. He wassmall and brown-haired and had about him a fussy, officious air. His name was Richardson, he told them, and he understoodthey were here about acquiring some land.
“Aye,” Tommy said. “A selection. Somewhere that gets the rain.”
“We get plenty of rain in Victoria, Mr. . . . ?”
“Thompson,” Tommy reminded him.
“Mr. Thompson. So I’m afraid you’ll have to be a little more specific
