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The remainder of our stay was uneventful. Weena drove over to see Alice every day, and appeared to have cooled down somewhat. (Apparently, she also showed Jacky how he could rub lotion into his gravid spouse so that both of them enjoyed themselves.) I spent a lot of time talking to Mum and Dad and showing things to Patrick.
We found beetles under leaf litter, stones and logs and I pointed out the differences among them as their habitats varied. I pointed out three different types of skink in a part of the vegetable garden he'd just toddled through — protective colouration had veiled them from his eyes. We watched an Australian kestrel catch a small snake.
"What colour is it, Patrick?" I asked.
"Grey."
"So it's a male — a boy. Girl kestrels are a sort of red brown." He nodded.
"What's that?" Patrick was pointing at a branch of Mum's native fig tree (Ficus macrophylla). "The bump."
"That's not a bump. That's an owl. Probably a Southern Boobook. They sleep during most of the day and wake up and hunt in the evening and early morning. They eat mice and grasshoppers."
"'Kay. Patrick thirsty."
I guess I spent a lot of time with him, just being a naturalist.
Mum was really back to normal a few days later. Weena reported that Alice was doing "quite well" and I asked Dad to give Jacky a few weeks off — at least until a few days after the twins were born. We flew back to Perth on the Friday with Patrick being his charming self, save for complaining about the necessity of a car-seat — he'd outgrown the capsule. Weena was still irritated about Alice's treatment and told her father about it on the phone. There was a ton of mail, nearly all junk.
Martha was still in New South Wales, so Saturday was devoted to extensive household restocking and clothes washing. Sunday Chaz, Rachel and a significantly convex Michiko came over. She was at least two months ahead of Weena. The kids had a great time in the slightly neglected garden, Patrick overturning stones and leaf litter to expose beetles and worms. I heard him tell Rachel about the skinks and the kestrel. I don't think he told her that he was a carpet python. When they left, I called the Evanses and then Charlie and Maddy, reporting in. After dinner, Weena said she was going to resign "tomorrow" -- Monday. She was taking Patrick with her, so she'd have a visible reason not to hang about.
"Can we afford it?" I asked.
"Yes. We've gone over that before."
"True. But you're also talking about a new house."
"We can manage it; don't fret so. Do you have any idea how much we've got?"
"No. And don't tell me. I'll either worry or get guilty."
"You can't possibly solve everyone's problems!"
"I know. Anyway, I've got to find out what's going on at Seven and at the University tomorrow."
When I got off the elevator in the morning I found myself in the midst of a cloud of dust and industry. I opened Mona's door and asked "Is it safe to come in?"
"Yes, but close the door behind you."
"Tell me."
"The University architect was here the day you flew off. He poked about a bit, went off and came back with a maintenance man. Monday morning there was a crew here and they took away everything from all the rooms. The loose stuff in the morning and then the boards from the walls in the afternoon. Tuesday morning there was a cleaning team and after lunch two blokes spackled holes and then painted all the walls and ceilings with an off-white base coat. The next afternoon the architect was back to work out how many offices, partitions, and light fixtures we'd need. Thursday morning he was back with drawings and an estimate. I signed off, as you told me to, and this crew started in on Friday." She paused. "I think that's it."
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