Chapter 5

When I got into the lab around nine on Monday morning, there was a large padded document envelope from Canberra waiting. It had been delivered by messenger bright and early.

Janice had said that after two weeks I’d get a wad of guff that’d offer me a transfer to Black Mountain. Well, it wasn’t two weeks yet. And the little old ladies I worked with were dying to learn what I’d received. So I just tossed it, unopened, to one side and got back to the taxonomy of Rhipicephalus – I still thought there were two species.

After about an hour I went for a cup of coffee. “Well, watcha get?” one of my colleagues asked.

“Not sure. Ain’t opened it yet.”

“It’s from Black Mountain, ain’t it?”

“Looks like it.”

“And?”

“And I’ll let you girls know when I open it, read the stuff, and have something to say.”

“Nasty bastard!”

“Have you no patience at all?”

“Not much.”

“Makes it real easy to tease you.”

“Guess so.”

In actuality, I was quite eager to actually see the contents, but I wanted to keep the blokes in the lab hanging and show them how “cool” I was. After lunch, however, I opened the envelope. Right on top was a letter that began: “This is to confirm your completion of the two-year post-doctoral probationary appointment and to proffer a reposting as a research scientist/entomology at the Black Mountain, ACT, location.”

I must have yelped, as several of my co-workers assembled to indulge their curiosity – and glean gossip fodder.

“Moving to the big time, eh?” was repeated several times.

Among the forms were items headed ‘Personnel,’ ‘Accounting,’ ‘Relocation,’ ‘Your Dependents,’ ‘Vehicles,’ ‘Living in the ACT,’ and a large map of the Capital Territory. I knew that I’d be OK to drive, but I’d need to re-register my trusty 4×4.

The rules for the obtaining of licences vary between the various states and territories, but a driver licence issued in one Australian state or territory is generally recognised and valid in the other states and territories. In 1997, a national drivers licence scheme was agreed by the states to provide uniform arrangements for the post-novice licensing of drivers of motor vehicles, the renewal of licences, and their suspension and cancellation, and to facilitate the mutual recognition between Australian jurisdictions of driver licences when transferring between jurisdictions.

I’d need to spend time on this stuff before I could just fill in the blanks. I shoveled it all back into the envelope. Then I realised that (a) I needed to talk to my supervisor here – though I was sure he already knew; (b) I needed to talk to my folks. I also needed to talk to Laura, even though we’d already set a time limit. But Orlando was just sitting on my desk.

The Lab Director was just down the hall, so I walked over, greeted his secretary and was shown right in. As expected, he was fully up on my ‘transfer’ and was certain I would do well. I was hand-shaken out of the office within five minutes. Back in my lab, I announced a round on me at seventeen. I received a cheer. It was after 1400, so I returned to Harington’s translation.

It still wasn’t easy, but I completed Canto I. Rinaldo’s lost his horse. He follows it and fights a duel with Ferrau, a Spaniard, in a clearing in the forest. There’s a to-do about oath-making and oath-breaking and a King Sacripant regains his long-lost treasure, but Rinaldo interferes. I found it confusing. Maybe Laura could explain.

I tossed the envelope in my case and went off to the pub.

In the morning, I called Mitchell. My mother seemed far more excited that I’d be visiting with “a young lady” than that I’d be moving to Canberra. I tried to explain that Laura and I weren’t “serious,” and that she’d be returning to Melbourne before I relocated. She was determined to marry me off – I don’t think she cared to whom. I also spoke briefly to my dad, who more interested in the dosh than anything else.

I devoted most of the morning to filling out forms and then copying them. Janice had supplied an addressed and franked reply envelope and I put the forms and a hastily scribbled note into it. I tossed it into the “outgoing” bin and put the “literature” and the copies into the used envelope. I read another chapter of Naturalist before lunch rolled around.

Around two, Laura called. I told her my “news” and she was quite complimentary. I asked whether she’d like to make a long drive west this coming weekend and she said “yes,” but...

I waited for a shoe to drop.

“I feel guilty. I’ve taken advantage of you. Last week I had the tickets but you paid for an expensive dinner. This weekend you paid for everything. And I know you’re not a wealthy man.”

I felt better. “No, I’m not rich. But I’m not poor. Anyway, a few days out in Mitchell won’t cost anything except fuel. My mother will have us married in no time.”