waiting for her signature.
There were a few bad moments for Sarah when Mrs Pullman mentioned the pass she would have to have before she got past the gates, and in dismay she could see all her hopes going up in smoke, until Mrs Pullman reminded her of the small blue plastic badge they had all been given to wear on their lapels while on the site, and after a feverish search in her shoulder bag, Sarah found hers tucked away at the bottom of her bag. Since becoming, or being forced to become a member of staff, she had not had to display the badge. That rule was confined to visitors only.
She managed to contain her feelings of utter relief as she produced the badge when they were stopped at the gate on the way out, and then waved out of the site, and she blessed Mrs Pullman for her foresight in reminding her about the badge. In her heightened state of apprehension, she might well have burst into tears when challenged for her pass, and found herself being held in custody while a few more enquiries were made, and that meant contacting the big boss—and that meant—
Sarah felt like bursting into song as they left the site behind them. She had made it! She hadn't been able to bring herself to really believe that she could do it, until now, and if Eddie had any more stories that concerned or even vaguely concerned the Bureau of Mineral Researches, he would have to consign them to someone else. Wild horses wouldn't drag her back to Sean Cartier's dominion!
She found that she had been wrong in assuming that the National Park would be at least a hundred miles from the site, because it turned out to be only thirty miles away.
In return for replying to the driver's curious questions about the life of a journalist, Sarah extracted information about the Park.
Their destination, she learned, was to be Jim Jim, a popular visiting area, not only because of its spectacular falls and great beauty, but because it catered for the tourist in providing motel accommodation.
Already the scenery was changing, she noticed, as they sped on along the Arnhem Highway, the desert-like scenery being replaced by greenery. The change was so dramatic that she had to blink once or twice to convince herself that she was not dreaming. She could see and hear the screech of the brightly coloured parakeets as they flew from tree to tree, in what was surely paradise after the aridity that reigned only twenty miles distant.
Seeing deep gorges ahead of them, Sarah was reminded of the brochure she had studied, and she asked the driver if they might spot a crocodile.
This produced a grin from the driver. 'Going to do a feature on the Park?' he asked, then said, `We might, but you'd really have to go deeper into the reserve. There's plenty of guides who can show you. You'd have to book up, of course. They're pretty busy right now, there's a last-minute rush before the wet.' His eyes scanned the horizon. 'Signs are it's not too far ahead,' he added.
Sarah had no wish to get trapped in that part of the world, and as much as she would have liked to have booked herself up for a tour, she daren't risk it. It was a bit too near a certain person's territory. All he would have to do was to go and collect her if he felt so inclined, but opportunity would be a fine thing, she told herself, and she wasn't about to allow that to happen.
As soon as they arrived at Jim Jim, after profusely thanking the driver, Sarah went to the motel and enquired about transport back to Darwin. After being asked if she had missed her coach, she had to admit that she had got private transport to the Park, but now needed to get back to Darwin under her own steam.
The receptionist was plainly of the opinion that she had come with a boy-friend, had a row, and preferred to go it alone. Sarah didn't care what she thought, as long as she could provide some sort of transport for her.
`Well, there's coach number seven,' the receptionist said. 'The driver will be in the cafe. He's due to leave in ten
There were a few bad moments for Sarah when Mrs Pullman mentioned the pass she would have to have before she got past the gates, and in dismay she could see all her hopes going up in smoke, until Mrs Pullman reminded her of the small blue plastic badge they had all been given to wear on their lapels while on the site, and after a feverish search in her shoulder bag, Sarah found hers tucked away at the bottom of her bag. Since becoming, or being forced to become a member of staff, she had not had to display the badge. That rule was confined to visitors only.
She managed to contain her feelings of utter relief as she produced the badge when they were stopped at the gate on the way out, and then waved out of the site, and she blessed Mrs Pullman for her foresight in reminding her about the badge. In her heightened state of apprehension, she might well have burst into tears when challenged for her pass, and found herself being held in custody while a few more enquiries were made, and that meant contacting the big boss—and that meant—
Sarah felt like bursting into song as they left the site behind them. She had made it! She hadn't been able to bring herself to really believe that she could do it, until now, and if Eddie had any more stories that concerned or even vaguely concerned the Bureau of Mineral Researches, he would have to consign them to someone else. Wild horses wouldn't drag her back to Sean Cartier's dominion!
She found that she had been wrong in assuming that the National Park would be at least a hundred miles from the site, because it turned out to be only thirty miles away.
In return for replying to the driver's curious questions about the life of a journalist, Sarah extracted information about the Park.
Their destination, she learned, was to be Jim Jim, a popular visiting area, not only because of its spectacular falls and great beauty, but because it catered for the tourist in providing motel accommodation.
Already the scenery was changing, she noticed, as they sped on along the Arnhem Highway, the desert-like scenery being replaced by greenery. The change was so dramatic that she had to blink once or twice to convince herself that she was not dreaming. She could see and hear the screech of the brightly coloured parakeets as they flew from tree to tree, in what was surely paradise after the aridity that reigned only twenty miles distant.
Seeing deep gorges ahead of them, Sarah was reminded of the brochure she had studied, and she asked the driver if they might spot a crocodile.
This produced a grin from the driver. 'Going to do a feature on the Park?' he asked, then said, `We might, but you'd really have to go deeper into the reserve. There's plenty of guides who can show you. You'd have to book up, of course. They're pretty busy right now, there's a last-minute rush before the wet.' His eyes scanned the horizon. 'Signs are it's not too far ahead,' he added.
Sarah had no wish to get trapped in that part of the world, and as much as she would have liked to have booked herself up for a tour, she daren't risk it. It was a bit too near a certain person's territory. All he would have to do was to go and collect her if he felt so inclined, but opportunity would be a fine thing, she told herself, and she wasn't about to allow that to happen.
As soon as they arrived at Jim Jim, after profusely thanking the driver, Sarah went to the motel and enquired about transport back to Darwin. After being asked if she had missed her coach, she had to admit that she had got private transport to the Park, but now needed to get back to Darwin under her own steam.
The receptionist was plainly of the opinion that she had come with a boy-friend, had a row, and preferred to go it alone. Sarah didn't care what she thought, as long as she could provide some sort of transport for her.
`Well, there's coach number seven,' the receptionist said. 'The driver will be in the cafe. He's due to leave in ten
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