Claire McNab - The Dingo Dilemma

"What can I do to help?" I asked.

"Nothing, thanks Kylie. Bob's here. When I called him to ask if he'd seen Quip, he said he'd come over and keep me company."

I was a little surprised. I'd never thought Bob Verritt was at all close to Fran. "Call me if I can do anything," I said. "Doesn't matter if it's the middle of the night."

I went to bed, but only dozed, as the combination of worrying about Ariana and wondering what had happened to Quip made for a night full of distressing images. I told myself sternly that Ariana and Fran had it much worse than me, but that didn't help.

On top of that I had Dingo to worry about. I wished I could discuss the situation with Ariana. Should I keep quiet? Or tell the police he'd called me? I was hazy about the law in these circumstances. Was I obstructing justice by not telling the authorities I'd spoken with Dingo?

Then there was the problem of Gert and Harry O'Rourke. His parents probably had the bad news about their son already, but should I call them to say Dingo was OK, but had admitted to me he'd taken Darken?

My restlessness was intensely annoying to Jules, who considered the bed hers, although she kindly permitted me to share it. About two o'clock I got up and made myself hot cocoa. I was wide awake, so I decided to call my mum. It was evening in Wollegudgerie, and most of the chores of the day should be over.

"Mum, it's me, Kylie. How's Jack? Aunt Millie says he's having a nervous breakdown."

"Doc Brady says Jack's nerves are shot." She sounded quite pleased, and when I commented on this, she gave an embarrassed little laugh. "Well, I have to admit it's bonzer not to have him interfering with everything. The Wombat is running like clockwork without his help."

"Is he on the mend?" I asked. Jack had to be boss of everything, so it was hard to imagine him losing control for very long.

"Poor Jack finds it almost impossible to get out of bed, so I said to him, 'You'll be up and about when you're ready, love. Don't try to hurry things. Get up when you feel you can.'"

"Aunt Millie wasn't very sympathetic about his breakdown," I said.

My mother tut-tutted. "She's always been down on Jack."

"And most men. But Mum, Aunt Millie said something so out of character I almost dropped the phone. It was along the lines that it could be nice to have a man around the house."

I didn't need to point out this was an extraordinary change of heart on my aunt's part. Since the death of her husband-unkind family comments suggested he'd died to escape her-Aunt Millie had maintained her highly judgmental view of people in general, but reserved her very darkest observations for the male of the species.

"That'd be because of Nigel," my mum said.

"Nigel? The name sounds vaguely familiar. Who is he?"

"Remember earlier this year, during her trip around the world, Millie did a bus tour to Bath in England? Nigel was on the tour, too, and he and Millie got on like a house on fire."

"Surely you're not telling me Aunt Millie's got a beau!"

"I wouldn't go that far, darl, but Millie acts quite girlish when she talks about Nigel coming to visit next week."

"Strewth!" I could imagine many things, but Aunt Millie girlish wasn't one of them.

"Of course he is a Pom, but even so, Millie seems quite taken with him."

"Just because Nigel's English doesn't mean he can't be a regular bloke."

My mother made a vague noise which meant she thought it unlikely, but wasn't going to argue the point.

"You'll be able to judge for yourself when you meet Nigel," I said.

"Jack thinks the bloke may be after Millie's money."

It had long been rumored in the family that Aunt Millie had considerable sums salted away, but I'd never believed it. She certainly didn't have the lifestyle of someone who was well off-she drove an old car and lived in a simple house.

"If that's the case, Mum, Nigel is going to be disappointed."

"Hmmm."

My mother was rarely non-committal, so I said, "Mum? Are you telling me that Aunt Millie is rich?"

"She's made some very smart investments over the years, that's all I'll say."

"Why doesn't she want anyone to know?"

"And have every no-hoper in the family beating a path to her door for a handout?"

Crikey! The idea that my aunt was secretly wealthy was quite a surprise.

"Kylie, you're not to mention Millie's money to anyone. I should never have told you."

"My lips are sealed."

"Enough about Millie. What have you been up to?"

"Mum, I've got a problem. It's to do with Dingo O'Rourke." I explained about Darleen's disappearance and how Dingo was the main suspect. I didn't mention Dingo's call to me, as the attempt to bug our building had made me wary of our land phones, which I reckoned could be tapped. "So what do I do about Dingo's parents?" I asked. "Maybe they know already, but should I call them and tell them what's happened?"

"Better leave it to me, dark Gert's not likely to take it well-you know what a drama queen she is-and Harry's almost as bad."

I rang off feeling almost cheerful. I'd had a conversation with Mum during which she hadn't begged me to come home once.

After a couple of hours of fitful sleep, I got up at sunrise and went for a brisk walk around the neighborhood. I was in a jittery mood, and looked suspiciously at the few individuals I encountered at this early hour. I was oppressed by the conviction something bad was about to happen. My mum would declare this was a premonition of impending doom, but I told myself it was my natural reaction to yesterday's events. As soon as I knew Quip was OK and Dingo had returned Darken, I'd feel better.

I forced myself to face reality-it was Natalie who haunted my thoughts. Natalie dying, or perhaps already dead. Somewhere I'd read that critically ill patients often slip away in the hours before dawn. Had that happened this morning, while I slept? Had Ariana said goodbye to Natalie for the last time?

Ariana. How would she react? Would she let me in, or would she retreat into the cool, contained persona that so effectively held everyone at arm's length? I yearned to see her, but at the same time was afraid to. How could I bear it if she'd changed towards me?

Then I was disgusted with myself. Me? It was all about me, was it? Here was I whinging about my situation when real tragedies were happening to other people. I returned from my walk vowing to get things in perspective.

I'd been given a number to call for a recorded message giving details of any changes to the day's schedule for Darken Come Home. When I checked I found that the soundstage was closed down for today, out of respect for Darleen's kidnapped status, so I had time for a leisurely breakfast.

Too much had been happening for me to give a thought to Lonnie and Pauline, but when Lonnie joined me in the kitchen just as I was finishing my porridge, I realized any moment now he'd ask me if I'd had a chance to speak to Pauline about him.

Lonnie was carrying a paper bag bulging with doughnuts. "Want one?" he said, waving the bag under my nose for inspection. "There's this new doughnut shop that's opened up near me, and I figured it was my duty to support local small business."

I declined the offer. Lonnie declared, "All the more for me," and selected one smothered in chocolate.

"Did you hear about Quip?" I asked.

Lonnie nodded. "Yeah. Fran called me last night to see if Quip was with me."

"Do you know if he's turned up?"

"Haven't heard. And I didn't like to disturb her this early to ask." He took a large bite of chocolate doughnut, and a look of bliss filled his face. "Heaven," he said indistinctly.

"Lonnie, could you tell if our phones were being tapped?"

"Maybe, but if it's the government doing it, probably not, because these days the phone companies roll over and play dead the moment national security is mentioned, and it's mentioned all the time, whether it applies or not."