Vanishing Point

In spite of his religious fervour and strange ways Benjamin proved to be as good as his word in that he never tried to physically molest her. She always waited until he was outside the perimeter fence to wash under the primitive, open shower. Not once did he make any effort to see her there. His anger was limited to times when she failed to obey his rules and though he grabbed, pushed and occasionally flung her to the ground, he never struck her.

Eventually a form of limited conversation began to emerge between them. Initially it was at meals when he gave permission for her to sit at the table and eat with him but only after first serving him. He told her about the bees, the honey production and how he transported swarms for pollination of crops. After so long in his company she found herself even thinking that perhaps he wasn’t so bad. It frightened her that she could even begin to think this way.

Katherine mentally listed her priorities for survival. First came Carolyn: she needed food, clothing and education. They were both surviving on a limited variety of food, typically dried or tinned. Fresh vegetables, fruit and meat were scarce and greatly appreciated when either Karl or Benjamin brought them. The Bible and a few simple toys allowed some education. As time passed Benjamin allowed her to use a pencil and paper.

Clothing was the issue that now became critical. After two years her supply was threadbare in spite of constant mending. At night she slept naked, preserving the pyjamas in case the cloth could be used elsewhere. Somehow she had to persuade Benjamin that both she and Carolyn needed clothes, especially for the cold winter nights and mornings.

Karl’s visits were irregular but on each occasion he brought fresh food, often including longed-for fresh meat, and sometimes those items asked for by Katherine. Once he even brought fresh milk, a treat most welcome. Katherine noticed it had come from a supplier in Kalgoorlie and, since it was fresh, she decided the compound must be reasonably close to the town.

Sometimes she let herself feel abandoned by Alec and all those who should be looking for her and her child. Surely they should have worked out what had happened and found her by now? She looked at a future that was bleak, especially for Carolyn.

In her lonely moments she thought if I could fool Benjamin into thinking that I accept that I’m now his wife, I might persuade him to take me into Kalgoorlie. Once out of here and where there’re people I’d stand a chance of getting help to escape.

* * *

In Kalgoorlie, Petri successfully convinced Spex management that his idea might work. However, it was clear that to advance the concept into a working hypothesis that could be tested in practice, he would need to carry out some basic research.

His enquiries at the University of Western Australia and the Geological Survey all directed him to La Trobe University in Melbourne, on the opposite side of the continent. There he would be able to source the technical expertise he required.

So, eager to

get started on his new work, Petri organised to travel with Fred Cooper to La Trobe’s geology department.

In Melbourne it is said that if you don’t like the weather wait for an hour and it will change to something more to your liking. Or not. Certainly that seemed to be the case as August 1970 drew to a close.

Alec rose at his usual time, rode his bicycle to the station and caught the train to McLeod. His life in Melbourne was starting to become routine. A routine that blotted out unpleasant memories, at least most of the time. Although not officially graduated, he was advised his doctoral thesis had been accepted. The formal award of his degree would be at a special ceremony in the Elder Hall of Adelaide University in December. The letter advising him of the thesis acceptance should have brought a sense of excitement and completion but for Alec it was just another letter. Without being able to share the news with Katherine there was no sense of the effervescent excitement that his success should have brought.

Soon after submitting his thesis for examination, he had started looking for academic positions or post-doctoral fellowships all over the world, anywhere away from Adelaide and its memories. He did not want to remain in Adelaide, an environment where every day as he walked down North Terrace he was painfully reminded that he used to do that with Katherine. He hated the phrase ‘used to’.

One of his many applications for a post-doctoral fellowship had been to La Trobe University, which had opened as he was putting the final touches to his doctoral research. The geology department there had, as its foundation professor, a man well known for his interest in the geology of granites, the topic of Alec’s own research. It seemed a good place to start an academic career. The response to his application for a post-doctoral fellowship surprised Alec as instead he was offered a lectureship, an offer he accepted with alacrity. It was clear that his few publications, the support of Professor Jones and his experience as a Tutor all counted in his favour. And the fact that the continuing minerals exploration boom was draining the country of geologists. Most were moving into careers as exploration or mining geologists. These paid significantly higher salaries than those offered in academia.

If ever there was a profession that went through severe cycles, it was that of the geoscientist. One year there was a shortage and new graduates could name their salaries. A few years later when aspiring university students graduated, the boom would be over and there would be an oversupply of new graduates. Many were forced to find alternative jobs. The fortunate became school science or geography teachers and the less fortunate did anything that paid.

Somehow Alec’s move to Melbourne was making life a little easier. He still thought of his family constantly but the surroundings of Adelaide that pricked the memory were absent. In Melbourne even his phone calls to the police became less frequent. When he did make them the answers were always the same: ‘nothing to report and no progress although the case is always open’. The pain of the past few years remained fresh in his heart. No longer did he give any credence to that old saying that ‘time heals’. Every day he thought of Katherine and Carolyn and wondered what happened to them. Where were they and how was it that they could just disappear, leaving no clues? On occasion he would suddenly find himself crying gently in the strangest places: in the cinema, at church, even just walking down the street. Memory still jarred his everyday ordinariness.

Today, as the train rattled past the familiar stations, slowly filling with rugged-up commuters heading for the city, Alec was thinking of his first lecture. He rarely read on the train and as he stood at one end of the crowded carriage he looked at all the open newspapers hiding banks of anonymous heads. His view of all the papers was the same: headlines as depressing as ever. Politics dominated in one form or another. If it wasn’t Prime Minister Gorton struggling to achieve unity in his fracturing government it was President Richard Nixon making statements about the crisis in Cambodia.

Alec looked at the grey sky outside and decided that he would not bother to buy The Age that morning. The last copy he bought was filled with the gory details of the murder of a pregnant American actress, Sharon Tate, by a bunch of drug-affected hippies. He found it all too depressing.

The commuter train pulled up at McLeod station and Alec wheeled his cycle out of the open carriage doors and on to the platform. Once through the barrier he pedalled past the hospital, through the back streets, to the Department of Geology. The crisp air brought tears to his eyes. He locked his cycle safely away, wiped his eyes and went up to his small office. Once seated behind his desk he checked through his lecture notes with just a quick glance at the photograph of Katherine and Carolyn next to the microscope. It was the same picture he kept on his desk in the basement office at the Mawson Laboratories: the sweet oval face of Katherine and the newly born Carolyn. It seemed a lifetime ago.

Alec had just finished rehearsing his lecture when there was a knock on the door. He looked up and said, ‘Come in.’

‘I’m not coming at a bad time, am I?’

It was Shelley Keaton. She and Alec met the previous week at a welcoming cheese and wine function for new staff. Alec wouldn’t normally attend such an occasion, but as a new staff member himself, he felt obliged. When introduced by the gregarious host and then left on their own they spent most of the evening talking to one another. They sensed each other felt out of place in the more formal environment that most attendees seemed to enjoy so much. Once the small talk and embarrassed silences were overcome, they discovered that they had much in common. As the evening wound up Shelley farewelled him. ‘I’ve really enjoyed meeting with and talking with you. We should meet up some time.’

‘Yes, that’s a good idea. I have enjoyed talking with you too. Thanks.’

‘See you some time then?’

‘Yes. I’ll be in touch.’

Alec did nothing about it for a couple of weeks but it looked like Shelley was now renewing the acquaintanceship.

‘Oh! Of course not. It’s Shelley, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, Glad you remember me! If you didn’t I’d have felt a bit miffed after all our chatting! Anyway, are you busy?’