Chapter 85

"And you?" I asked Rachel.

"Later."

It was Sunday. I'd spoken to dad and then mum. Rachel had bought strawberries and cream and made us waffles for breakfast. Friday and yesterday it was my future that was the main topic.

"Why not now?"

"Dishes and waffle iron."

"I'll help. It won't take long." I put one arm around her. "And I know that you are just putting it off. It was painful sending in a cheque for nearly $10,000. Whatever you decide won't be that bad."

"You're right, of course. Let's clear and wash."

We did.

"My turn for exposition," Rachel began.

"You paid for the College of Law. So that pretty much means we'll be in Sydney for the next year. That means I should do a one-year program, so we're free to travel, if necessary, in 2016."

"OK."

"I think I'm best off finishing the fourth year here. I'll have an honours degree and that will mean more in the future than a three-year plus a certificate or diploma."

"Makes sense."

"But there's one big problem: I won't be able to do a course-equivalent at the Gallery. I'll need to take courses each semester. The Calendar says: 'The Art History honours year comprises two semester-long units of study and a thesis of 15,000 -18,000 words in length.'"

"I see. Have you spoken to Winnie yet?"

"No. Nor to my advisor here. I thought I'd try to talk to someone in the department tomorrow. They may be unhappy with what I want to do."

"Which is?"

Let's go off topic a bit. You know I still want to do something on Dupain and Williams. Well, I want to do a course on photography. But that may not be what they mean. Moreover, while I don't mind an honours theses, I don't think I should write about either Max Dupain nor Fred Williams. And one more thing..."

"Yes?"

"I want to do some more work on myth, too. And that's a big problem."

"It is?"

"Yes. All Sydney offers is under three headings: Ancient History, Celtic Studies and Studies in Religion. None of that sounds like what I'm interested in. Especially as Studies in Religion is confined to the three Abrahamic ones. Not even Buddhism nor Hinduism qualify as religions!"

"No. It doesn't sound like what you want. I'm afraid you're going to have to do several disagreeable things: go in and pretend to be a good girl; second, read about myths by yourself – just do it in your own; and third, just pay a bit more and do a photography course at a CCA."

"Smart. In fact, I'll ask about mythology, so I can sigh and give in to whatever is suggested."

"See! It's easy!"

"Yes, dear."

"You know, there are people in English who do things like Old Norse. I wonder whether someone does Norse myths – you know, the Eddas and stuff."

"I'll ask." She made a note. "I wonder what Celtic mythology is."

"Oh, most likely the stories we read about Cuchulain and Lug and those blokes. You remember. 'The Cattle Raid at Cooley' and 'The Story of MacDatho's Pig.' And the Welsh Mabinogion. There's probably Scots stuff, too. Not merely the fake Ossian."

"Right. I liked the Mabinogion, especially 'Culhwch and Olwen'."

"Well, we've got that somewhere. And Yeats' Irish Fairy and Folk Tales. I'm not sure we still have the Old Norse stuff. Dad may have those."

"Oh! I hadn't thought about all that! I know we've got both Graves and Edith Hamilton, so Classical mythology is covered – at least superficially."

"And I've got some Jung, though I've only read bits. I don't think I really buy him."

"Doesn't matter. We'll just see what happens tomorrow."

It wasn't "tomorrow." After hanging around the department for an hour or so, Rachel ended up with an appointment for Wednesday after lunch. She was depressed about it, so I took her out for sushi and we spent Tuesday together at the Museum, where we ran into Henry. I asked him what was new and he got fidgety and then said he thought we should "each" talk to our "siblings." Then he mumbled something about work and went off.

"'Curiouser and curiouser'," said Rachel.

"I wonder what's going on," I said. "I guess you'll call Al and I'll call Sarah later."

"I guess so." We looked at each other and began to laugh. Outside in the park I bought us each an ice and we sat on a bench.

After dinner, Rachel went into the bedroom to call her brother and I called Sarah from the table. Twenty minutes later we were laughing together: our siblings plus Eddie and Henry were 'swinging, ' and were recruiting (if that's an appropriate term) a further couple or two. Sarah had asked whether we were 'interested, ' Al hadn't, it seems, invited Rachel.