Ernie came out with a handful of dough. He opened the camp oven, plopped it in and nestled it in the remains of the fire. Then he covered it with the glowing embers. ‘I thought we’d have a dry run.’

Ida wasn’t far behind. She had water and tea in the billy, and put it in the fire beside the damper.

‘Once he smells it,’ Ernie said. He sat down.

In the Ford dealership, the wheel-nut machine whirred, and someone dropped a spanner, and the radio murmured with talkback.

Peter said, ‘Just tellin’ Clem about you and Doug.’

‘He knows, don’t yer, Clem?’

I nodded.

‘Doug just needs half an hour.’

Ida said, ‘Call us when it’s ready,’ and went in.

I told them how Pop had changed, and how, of a night, he’d sit reading the encyclopedias out loud, as if this might help him remember. ‘I reckon if you fellas came down and sat with him and had a talk it might help.’

They thought about this. Ernie said, ‘Encyclopedias?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Well, I guess I could.’

‘It’s a shame, when he just sits there all afternoon.’

‘It’s always better, isn’t it,’ Ern said, ‘if there’s someone with you? Even if they don’t say nothin’.’

‘Makes Mum sad, I reckon.’

Ida brought out five mugs, and Ernie filled them. He took the damper from the fire, tore it into pieces, and left some. And we ate, without talking. Eventually Pop appeared, sat down, picked up his mug and rescued the damper from the oven. ‘That’s a new scratch,’ he said to me.

I turned to Ernie, and smiled, and he said, ‘It wasn’t me.’

And we laughed, and Pop said, ‘Jesus, y’ didn’t let him drive, did yer?’

We put the Datsun on the lawn and hosed it. Pop started with a bucket of sudsy water. Every square inch of its fading red metal and caramel-coloured duco. I told him I’d been reading about Lasseter’s Reef. ‘These three fellas made a pact when they were ten. Every year they’ve gone to look.’

‘Well, they don’t know what I do.’

‘They’ve used special maps, remote sensing, satellite images, the lot.’

‘You could get ten thousand men, but unless you know.’ He finished his scrubbing and I hosed it down.

‘Quartz, with lumps of gold as big as plums?’ I said.

‘That’s what he reckoned.’

‘And he just stumbled across it?’

‘That’s what he reckoned.’

He refilled the bucket with water and wax, then handed me a chamois. ‘You practised your parks?’

‘Coupla times.’

‘I’m relying on you.’

‘Don’t need a licence to drive.’

‘Helps.’

He sat on the front verandah, deciding, perhaps, if the old girl looked any better.

‘They reckon it’s near the WA—NT border,’ I said.

He almost laughed. ‘No wonder they haven’t found nothin’. Too far west.’ He stood. ‘You alright to finish off?’ And went in before I could answer.