Chapter 9

I called Winnie on Wednesday morning.

"Are you at the Gallery today?"

"Yes, 1300 to 1700."

"Interested in lunch?"

"Perhaps early lunch? Around 1130?"

"No problem."

"Are you in the Museum?"

"Yes. Entomology. Insects, if you prefer, but it's not all insects."

"I know what 'entomology' means. I'll find it. After 1100."

"Wonderful."

I stood still for a moment. I knew what I wanted to say, but I wasn't sure how to phrase it. Well, I had at least an hour. I went back to the Guyanese leaf litter ants.

"Is this where you spend all your time?"

I turned to see Winnie looking at the many cases. "Hey! Well, not all, but about 24 hours a week for now."

"Tell me."

"Okay. All the cases along here are different kinds of ants. These two cases are all ants from Guyana; the ones over there are from Brazil; those are from India; that wall [I gestured] is North America; the ones near the corner are Australian. The next room contains African, Asian and insular ants."

"That's a lot of specimens!"

"Yes. And we only have a few thousand species here. They've identified over 12,000 and it's estimated that there are well over 20,000 species."

"20,000 species!"

"Ants thrive in most ecosystems, and may form 15–25% of the total terrestrial biomass. They've been around a long time. They forked off from wasps about 130 million years ago."

Winnie laughed. "You really know this stuff."

"Not enough, yet. That's why I'm here."

"And what do you do here?"

"I read the labels."

"You're kidding me!"

"No. Some of these exhibits are quite old. Classifications have changed. My job is to go over each of our specimens and note which are no longer labelled correctly."

"And you know them all?"

"Nowhere near! I've been checking things against books and articles. My boss has a good library." She looked about.

"Where is he or she?"

"He's in Canberra at CSIRO headquarters, trying to generate funds."

"I understand that. The Gallery is always dredging for money for acquisitions." She looked at all the cases and those partly visible in the next room. "Let's go to lunch."

"Do you know a decent place? One where we can talk? My treat."

"Let's walk to the Gallery and lunch in the restaurant there. It's dear, but I get a staff discount."

We walked up College Street, past the Cathedral and along Art Gallery Road. Once we were across William Street, I felt I could talk.

"I liked being with you, Winnie," I began. "But I'm worried about the three of you being so – uh – active."

"We're not really that bad. That was Jenny's idea ... and Karen's always hot."

"That's the problem. I'm nervous. I'm worried about – uh – social diseases. Not just the standard ones. All three of you seem to be bisexual. Do you know this histories of Karen's and Jenny's other partners?" I paused and looked at her. "I'm serious. I had blood drawn on Monday. Until I hear that I'm not carrying something, I'm abstaining."

"Oh ... oh. I must be an idiot! I've never thought ... I assumed..." For a moment I thought Winnie was going to cry.

"Yes. We all do. And then, suddenly, reality strikes. As I said. I like you a lot. Do you like me well enough to do me a favor or two?"

"What?"

"Get yourself tested. Just in case. And don't play with Jenny or Karen until you know what's up."

"I can do those. You know, Gordy, you're really a good bloke. Most fellas would have fucked us and forgotten us. Even if they had themselves tested. You care." She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. We entered the Gallery and were seated in the restaurant.