Flight of the Jabiru by Elizabeth Haran Page A

expecting him.”
    â€œSurely he’s not your boyfriend,” an American said with a hint of amusement.
    â€œNo,” Lara protested. “I don’t know him.”
    â€œYou don’t want to go out with a civilian when you could be dating one of us,” another American said, cheered on by his mates.
    â€œI’m not going out with anyone,” Lara protested. “I’m here to work.” She excused herself from her admirers and approached the man who looked like a younger version of Sid with red hair, except his shirt was buttoned.
    â€œCan I help you, sir?”
    â€œG’day, love,” he said as if he’d known her all her life. “I’m Colin Jeffries. I was told to pick you up and bring you back to Shady Camp billabong.”
    Lara was taken aback by his casual friendliness, which was just as Sid had described the locals. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Jeffries. I wasn’t sure when to expect you.”
    â€œI was only given an approximate date for your arrival, so thought I’d take a punt that it was today. Looks like I got lucky! Are you ready to go?”
    â€œErr... yes.” She hadn’t finished her tea, but he seemed in a hurry. “I’ll have to pack my suitcase if you don’t mind waiting a few minutes.”
    â€œI’ll bring the car around to the front of the hotel,” Colin said thinking he might have time for a quick coldie. “I’ll see you outside.”
    Before Lara could ask if he’d carry her suitcase downstairs, he was gone.
    â€œIt would be too bad if I had a lot of luggage,” Lara mumbled, hoping she could squeeze all her purchases into her case and that it wouldn’t be too heavy.

CHAPTER EIGHT

    Lara struggled out of the hotel with her bulging suitcase but she couldn’t see Colin Jeffries anywhere. There were two vehicles parked right outside the door. She assumed one of them belonged to him.
    One vehicle was a Model T Ford with a canvas canopy and no side curtains. The other was a Vauxhall with wood paneling along the sides. The Ford was battered, rusty, and mud spattered up to the door handles. Searching for a clue about which vehicle might belong to Colin Jeffries, Lara walked between the two and glanced inside the Ford, not unduly surprised to see ripped seats and springs exposed on the driver’s seat. The floors, back and front, and the back seat, were littered with odds and ends that included fishing reels, boxes of hooks, several fishing rods in various states of disrepair, hats, old tee shirts, thongs, and an assortment of unrecognizable objects.
    Although the Vauxhall had a few dents and rust patches, something typical of many of the passing vehicles, Lara noticed there was a floral shirt on the back seat, similar to the one that Colin was wearing. There was also a well-worn hat that she could just imagine him wearing and a bunch of flowers. It was the flowers that convinced her that the station wagon was Colin Jeffries’s vehicle. He’d obviously bought them to welcome her to Shady Camp, a touching gesture she greatly appreciated. As the Vauxhall was locked, she put her suitcase down between the two vehicles and stood waiting, hoping he’d appear before her flowers wilted in the heat.
    Ten minutes later she was still standing in the hot sun and becoming impatient. She was on the verge of going back into the hotel when she saw a man come out of the saloon bar door further along the street. She suddenly wondered if Mr. Jeffries was keeping her waiting while he was drinking. Surely a man who’d bought her flowers wouldn’t be so inconsiderate!
    Leaving her suitcase by the front tire of the Vauxhall, Lara walked towards the entrance to the saloon bar and looked through the window. Sure enough, she spotted Colin Jeffries sculling a glass of beer at the bar.
    â€œUnbelievable,” she muttered angrily. She would’ve popped her head inside the door