The Lightkeeper's Wife - By Karen Viggers Page 0,85
be data from twenty years hidden away somewhere in there. Years of field observations piling up. And for what? Bazza says he’s heard that hardly any of it gets written up. The science is just about us having a presence in Antarctica. Us meaning Australia. That’s why we tradies are so important, according to Bazza. Without us, the scientists couldn’t survive down there. They depend on us.
I interrupt Bazza’s rant to tell him I’m having an interview with Fredricksen at three o’clock; I try to gauge the look on his face. He says he wouldn’t work for Fredricksen in a hundred years. If Fredricksen’s office caught fire, he wouldn’t piss on it to put it out.
‘I’d be working with Emma,’ I say, and watch Bazza’s eyebrows rise.
‘She’s an interesting one,’ he says, shaking his head. ‘Roughs it like the blokes when she’s south, I’ve heard. And you’ll have to hit it off with Fredricksen if you want to go south. It doesn’t matter how good you are at your job, if Fredricksen doesn’t like you, he won’t employ you.’
‘Got any tips?’ I ask.
But Bazza shakes his head. ‘The man’s a mystery to me. All I can suggest is to be non-threatening.’
I remind him that I’m the least threatening person I know, and he agrees. ‘Whatever you do, don’t ogle Emma while Fredricksen’s in the room,’ Bazza says. ‘She’s a tomboy, but I reckon half the antdiv fancies her. She’s got a body like a rocket. Built for a purpose. And there’s no place for prissy girls down there anyway. They only get into trouble.’
I say I hadn’t noticed Emma’s body, at the same time feeling my knees and stomach melt. I hope I can hold it together and not reveal anything to Fredricksen.
Bazza shakes my hand and wishes me luck. ‘When I told you to get yourself back down south, I didn’t reckon you’d be up to it this season,’ he says. ‘But you’re looking stronger. Shame you won’t be going down as a dieso. We need good staff like you.’
‘I’ll let you know how I go,’ I say. ‘Keep a job free for me just in case.’
Bazza lets me into the main building with his swipe card and I walk down the long corridor, tucking all the loose pieces of myself back inside. I need to be pleasant, a bit dull, non-threatening, as Bazza said, but capable. This is something I should do well.
The receptionists examine me surreptitiously while they call Emma to advise her I’ve arrived. Soon after, Emma appears from a corridor. Her face is happy and enthusiastic, but the ladies are still watching us closely, so I keep my expression blank.
‘Tom,’ Emma says. ‘Good to see you.’ Her eyes are bright in her brown face and the warmth of her smile almost buckles my knees. She shakes my hand professionally and winks. ‘Come this way. I’ll show you the lab.’
I nod at the curious faces of the front-desk ladies and follow her up a gangway to the next building.
The antdiv is like a rabbit warren. I used to know my way around here, but I’ve cancelled it out of my mental directory. In the past nine years I’ve only visited Bazza out in the workshop or followed him down to the cafeteria, apart from going to Emma’s seminar, of course.
Emma leads me up a set of stairs and then along a corridor past a string of offices. She turns to smile at me but says nothing and I wonder if I’m imagining the flash of daring in her eyes.
‘This is the lab,’ she says, opening a door. ‘You’ll have to excuse the mess. I’m still unpacking.’
She’s right. The lab is in disarray. Boxes, equipment and papers are scattered across tables and benches. I don’t know how she can work in here.
‘Actually, do you mind if I just quickly finish an email?’ She laughs airily. ‘I ought to be cleaning up, but I can’t stop emailing south. A friend of mine is wintering at Mawson and I keep wondering what she’s up to.’ She glances almost wistfully at the computer on the desk.
I perch on a stool and try not to watch the flurry of her fingers across the keyboard. There’s a desperate urgency to her typing and it reflects the strength of her desire to be somewhere else. I’ve forgotten how it is when you return—feeling cut off from Antarctic happenings and dreaming of station life as if events taking place down south are somehow more