‘Three boys, two girls.’ He grinned at her. ‘I was the youngest, but we were all close. Most of the kids in the neighbourhood came to our house to play. I had a great childhood.’
‘Tell me about it,’ Natalie prompted.
He recounted a series of wild adventures and outrageous mischief. It seemed that his parents had adopted a policy of free rein, occasionally pulled in with some salutary discipline when the line of acceptable behaviour was flagrantly overstepped. They were an achievement-orientated family, seeking to stretch their horizons and go wherever their interests took them.
Damien’s amusing anecdotes kept Natalie interested and entertained through the trip across the city to the foot of the mountains. He fell silent as they started the climb upwards.
Natalie was hard-pressed to keep the conversation flowing. She found out Damien’s oldest brother was a pilot working for Singapore Airlines. His other brother was a marine biologist, based in Tasmania. One sister lived in London, having gone to England on a working holiday and found employment as a nanny for the children of a widowed stockbroker whom she subsequently married. The remaining sister had gone to New Zealand, become involved with the women’s movement, fallen in love with a sheep farmer, and had settled happily into farm life, breeding Galloways as a sideline.
Damien’s parents had retired to the Gold Coast of Queensland years ago. They now enjoyed a life of leisure in the sun.
‘So you’re the only one left in Sydney,’ she mused.
‘Yes.’
‘You must miss them.’
‘We keep in touch. Mostly when Christmas comes around.’
Christmas was for families, Natalie thought, and especially for children. It was now the month of March. By next Christmas she would be twenty-nine.
‘How old are you, Damien?’
‘Thirty-four.’
If they were to have a family together, their first child could be born by next Christmas. Natalie was about to act on impulse and reach across to Damien when a familiar landscape caught her eye.
‘Oh! Take the left turn before the overhead bridge,’ she urged quickly.
Damien gave her a sharp and penetrating glance. ‘Does this mean something to you?’
‘Yes...no...I don’t know.’ The question flustered her because she had no ready answer to it. ‘I just feel this is the way to go.’
He took the turn. ‘The road leads to Leura.’
It meant nothing to her. They had left the outskirts of Sydney some considerable time ago and she had only been vaguely aware of travelling up the freeway to the mountains since then. Whether they had reached the top of the range or not she had no idea.
They approached a fork in the road. A signpost to Leura pointed to the right. ‘Keep left,’ Natalie said automatically.
Damien frowned at her. ‘You remember being here before?’
‘Not really. I don’t understand it but I feel sure this road leads somewhere I want to go.’
It was a long road. They passed signs to two vacation resorts, one longstanding, one new. Damien gave her a run-down on their facilities. Neither of them had any instinctive pull on Natalie. They passed golf links. Then she saw the row of pines, thickly clustered to close out the rest of the world.
‘That’s it!’ she cried excitedly.
‘What?’
‘There’s a gateway between the pines. It has an arch. You’ll miss it if you go quickly, Damien.’
He slowed down. He turned the car into the driveway and brought the car to a halt. On the arch was printed the name of the property, ‘MERLINMIST‘.
It had to be a magical place to be called that, Natalie thought, feeling certain it had the special quality she had been seeking.
‘What does Merlinmist mean to you, Natalie?’ Damien asked, his eyes fastened intensely on hers, almost accusing. The tension emanating from him bewildered her.
‘Does it mean something to you?’ she countered.