Suddenly, Sam pushed himself back in his chair. ‘Oh no, Rosie,’ he whispered. ‘Your father died, didn’t he?’
Rosie looked across at Sam and nodded gently. ‘He died a week before my mother gave me that letter. He was a mechanic by trade – used to work on boats and ships mostly – and had died at sea while trying to repair a fishing trawler. They were caught in a storm and the boat went down. His body was never found.’
Jack stood up and went over to Rosie. He was immediately joined by both Elizabeth and Sam, who reached out a comforting hand.
‘Is that why we’re here, Rosie? Was your father born here?’ Sam asked.
Rosie shook her head. ‘Sometimes, when he knew he was only going to be away from home for a few days, he would take me with him. Once, when I was about six or seven, he had to travel down to Cape Town and we stopped over here. We slept the night and early the next morning he woke me up with a surprise. One of his colleagues owned a small truck and was kind enough to drive us out to the top of a hill just outside town. I had no idea what was happening but, as we climbed out, my father reached into the back of the truck and pulled out an old bicycle that he had borrowed from someone in town. He climbed on, lifted me onto his lap, and as the sun rose over the mountains, we started down this enormous hill. He said it was called Seven Mile Hill. Bill and Margie helped me find it yesterday. It’s still here. Only back then it was still a sand road.’
Elizabeth pressed a tissue to her eyes and held it there.
‘As we rode down the hill, he told me to close my eyes and imagine that we were flying. I swear to God as I sit here, I was flying that day. When I think back to it, I can still remember snatches of it so vividly. I can feel my father’s arm around my waist and the smell of his aftershave. How the cool wind made my face tingle. Some nights when I close my eyes I can still feel him with me. I’d give anything to be close to him again.’
Rosie looked up, her face drawn. ‘So tomorrow morning before sunrise, I’d like to go back to that hill. I’d like to ride it one more time. And it would mean a great deal to me … if you would all consider riding it with me.’
Sam lowered himself to his haunches. He lifted Rosie’s hand and kissed it. ‘Of course, old girl. Of course.’
‘I was hoping you’d say that. I’ve arranged bicycles for us. They arrived late this afternoon.’
Elizabeth flung her arms around her friend. She tried to speak, tried to say what was in her heart, but the words never made it out.
Twenty-eight
As Jack pulled over onto the shoulder of the road, the first signs of daybreak were sparking on the horizon. While the edge of the sky was clear, heavy clouds had moved in overhead. Stepping out of the car, Rosie held out her hands and felt the kiss of a raindrop against her palm. Having always loved the rain, she breathed in the fresh morning air with all its rich and earthy fragrances and allowed herself a smile. So often she had imagined coming back. Now that she was here, she was struggling to take it all in. The view ahead of her was well beyond anything her memory had invoked over the years.
Jack walked over to her. ‘Sure this is the place, Rosie?’
‘I am, Jack. Thank you.’
Sam strode around the car and joined them. ‘So Bill and Margie are waiting at the bottom of the hill for us?’
‘Yes.’
‘And they know why you’re doing this?’
‘They know some of the story. Enough of it, anyway. They’ve been so generous about everything. They’re wonderful people. I feel bad about some of the things I said about them when we arrived.’
Jack nodded. ‘Just think. Weeks from now you’ll be one of the stories they tell their new guests.’
Elizabeth walked up behind Rosie and rested her head against Rosie’s back. Then she looked up into the heavens. ‘Do you think Albert’s watching us?’
‘I hope so,’ Rosie replied, reaching back and squeezing Elizabeth’s hand. They stood in silence as the rain began to fall and the sun eased itself over the mountains. After a while, Rosie cleared her throat. ‘I think it’s time, Jack.’
He dipped his head and, together with Sam, headed for the trailer. A short while later they returned with the bicycles. Jack was an experienced rider – for years he had cycled twice a week, mostly off-road – and spent the next few minutes getting the ladies settled on their bikes.
‘You sure you remember how to do this, old girl?’ Sam asked.
Rosie’s voice was barely audible. ‘I think I’ll manage.’
After Jack had checked everyone’s brakes and made sure that Rosie and Elizabeth were comfortable enough, he walked his own bike onto the road. ‘You going to lead us, Rosie? Nice and easy.’
Nodding, she inched ahead of them. She then stared down the winding hill as the first rays of sun glistened on the road. More rain began to sweep in. ‘I can’t believe we’re doing this,’ she murmured. ‘It feels like a dream.’
And then with great care, she released her grip on the brakes and her bicycle began to roll forward.
For the first two miles they drifted cautiously down the hill, making their way through dips and around sweeping bends. When the road straightened out and it was clear that they had at least another mile or more of simple freewheeling ahead of them, Jack moved up next to Rosie. She was, he saw, smiling and crying at the same time.
‘Do you trust me?’ he called out.
‘What, Jack?’
‘I asked … do you trust me?’
She nodded, the wind making slits of her eyes. ‘Of course.’
‘Then keep your bike steady,’ he said, and carefully manoeuvred his bicycle closer to hers. With one hand, he reached out and gently took hold of her handlebar. ‘I’ve got you. Do you still trust me?’
‘Yes, Jack.’
‘Then,’ he said, as the onrushing breeze tore at his words, ‘close your eyes and let go, Rosie. Just let go.’
She glanced down at her fingers and then looked over at him, hesitant.
As he spoke again, his voice trembled. ‘You didn’t just come here to ride, Rosie.’
Fresh tears filled her eyes. ‘Jack …’
‘I’ve got you,’ he insisted.
Rosie nodded back at him and, slowly, began to let go. When her hands were finally free, she shut her eyes and raised her arms to the sun.
And to the rain.
And to her father who had once held her tight and made her believe that she could fly.
Twenty-nine
Early the following morning, Bill and Margie were already seated on a bench in the front garden when Jack walked out the door.
‘Jack, are you sure you don’t want to stay for breakfast?’
‘Thank you, Margie, I appreciate the offer but we’ve decided to get an early start.’
‘Heading straight for Sutherland?’ Bill asked.
‘Not quite straight. I think we’ll take a more scenic route.’
‘It’s Karoo country, Jack. All the routes are scenic.’
Following behind Jack, Rosie and Elizabeth made their way into the garden. Rosie headed straight for Margie. She took hold of her hands and then looked across at Bill. ‘Thank you again for yesterday. I know how silly it all must have seemed, but it was really important to me. More than I even realised, actually.’
‘It was our privilege,’ Margie said, and meant it. ‘We barely know all of you and yet it feels like we’re about to say goodbye to lifelong friends.’
Elizabeth stepped forward and embraced Margie. ‘I won’t forget the last few days.’
‘Neither will we,’ she replied, as Sam made his way down the steps.
‘Morning, everyone,’ he said, and then pointed at Margie. ‘You know you were right about Hopetown. There really is something about this place. And it’s got nothing to do with the diamonds.’
‘Thank you, Sam. This trip that you’re all on, it’s a very beautiful thing. More people should do it.’
Elizabeth nodded. ‘We think so too.’
<
br /> As Sam and Jack loaded up all the bags, Margie hurried inside and returned with a small gift-wrapped box. ‘This is for you, Rosie.’
‘Oh, Margie, I can’t accept this. You’ve already done more for me than you know.’
‘You can accept this … and you will. Besides, the gift itself doesn’t hold any real value. Just the sentimental kind. It’ll be something to remind you of your time with us.’
‘In that case,’ Rosie conceded, ‘thank you.’
Margie hugged her tight and then wrapped her arms around Elizabeth. ‘Have a wonderful time in Sutherland. Take care of yourself.’
‘I will. And you too. I’ll tell everyone I know about your very special guesthouse.’
Bill then dropped to his haunches and rubbed the top of Pilot’s head. ‘Sorry my stories bored you, old fellow.’
Pilot craned his head forward and nuzzled the side of Bill’s arm.
‘I think he forgives you,’ Margie smiled.
After the last bag had been stowed away, Jack and Sam returned to the group. ‘Well, I guess that’s it.’
‘Look after these ladies, Jack,’ Margie insisted. ‘They’re precious cargo.’
‘Don’t I know it.’
After a final round of hugs and handshakes, they were all in the car and the Eureka Guest House was slowly receding in the rear-view mirror. As the old Chrysler turned onto the main road that led out of town, Rosie opened her gift. Beneath the wrapping paper was a plain black box. As she lifted the lid, she looked as if she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
‘What is it?’ Jack asked, glancing back.
She fished out the large plastic diamond, one of the cherished replicas, and held it up to the morning light.
Thirty
The hum of the road, the vastness of the Karoo and the events of the past few days had all served to stifle conversation. The silence that settled over them as they drove was neither uncomfortable nor cloying. Rather, it was a time for reflection – for contemplation of what had been and, for Elizabeth in particular, what was still to come.
Jack stared through the windscreen, but saw little of the empty road ahead of him. Instead, he pictured his late wife, Grace, swimming low in the sky. He watched as she cut through the water, her strokes elegant and true. When she reached the edge of the pool, he was waiting for her in the water.
‘Don’t you think that’s enough?’ he asked, wading up to her.
She winked at him. ‘No, I don’t.’
He drew his arms around her and whispered. ‘Grace, please. You really shouldn’t be in the water.’
‘No, Jack. This is exactly where I should be. In the water. With you.’
‘But your surgery—’
Grace placed a finger across his lips. ‘We both know that after tomorrow I may never get off that hospital bed. So today, Jack, while I still can … I want to be in the water.’
Jack shut his eyes and pressed his forehead to hers. ‘Please don’t talk like that.’
‘I’m sorry. I don’t mean to upset you.’
Carefully, he cupped her thin face in his hands. ‘You are so beautiful.’
‘And you’re such a bad liar. I know the cancer’s taken whatever looks I once had.’
‘You’re wrong about that. The cancer can’t get to what I can see.’
She looked back at him and smiled. Lifting her hand from the water, she rubbed the top of his shaved head. ‘It was so sweet of you to cut off your hair for me.’
‘I wish it was me. The whole thing … I wish it was me.’
‘Don’t you say that, Jack Everson. And don’t forget you have a promise to keep. You hear me?’
‘That’s not fair. What you’re asking me to do is—’
‘You gave me your word, Jack. Your word. Now tell me that you’ll honour your promise. I need to hear it.’
Jack wanted to refuse. Wanted to insist that what she was asking was way above and beyond what he was capable of. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
‘I promise,’ he finally said.
At once, her frown blossomed into a smile. ‘Let’s swim a little longer, Jack. Come on … swim with me. The water’s fine.’
She was leading him away from the wall when he slowed to pull down her swimming cap. ‘It’s slipping.’
She stopped his hand and peeled the cap away, revealing her bald head. ‘I don’t care what people see any more. I just want to swim with you, Jack. I just want to swim.’
With that, she set off towards the other side of the pool and he followed after her.
It was after dark when they finally emerged from the water and headed back to their room.
In the end, Grace had been right on both counts.
It had been her last swim.
And she never did make it off that hospital bed.
Thirty-one
With Sam and Rosie sound asleep, Elizabeth leaned forward and wrapped a hand around Jack’s elbow. ‘If it’s all right with you, I’d prefer not to go to Sutherland today. I know I’m being pathetic, but I’m just not quite ready yet. Could we stay over somewhere else? I just need another day to get my head straight.’
Jack placed his hand on top of hers. ‘Actually, I was thinking of stopping over in Victoria West anyway. It’s a small town about half an hour away. How does that sound?’
‘Like a reprieve. Thank you, Jack.’
‘No need to thank me. And you’re not being pathetic. I can understand why you’re nervous. What you’re doing, well, it’s not to be underestimated. We’ll get to Sutherland when it feels right to you.’
‘I suppose I just need a bit of time to find my big girl pants.’
Jack’s laughter was loud enough to wake up Pilot. The dog lifted his head from Rosie’s lap, looked around the car briefly and – noticing nothing particularly untoward – duly went back to sleep.
‘Oh, to be a dog,’ Elizabeth remarked, gently rubbing the Labrador’s warm nose. ‘Not a worry in the world.’
They were quiet for a while as Jack negotiated a steep curve in the road.
‘So listen, Lizzie, I was doing some reading last night. If you can believe it, there’s an old cinema in Victoria West. Been around forever. Still running, apparently.’
‘Oh, Jack, I hope you’re not joking. You know how much I love old cinemas,’ Elizabeth replied, brightening at the news.
‘I know. That’s why I’m telling you. According to my little travel book, the place exists. I can’t remember the name though.’
‘Think it’ll be open tonight?’
‘There must be a good chance. It’s Saturday after all. We might be in luck.’
Elizabeth stopped to consider the idea. ‘I wonder what sort of films they show.’
‘Old Westerns?’
‘Maybe the classics. Gone with the Wind or Casablanca. Oh, Jack, wouldn’t that be something?’
Before he could respond, Elizabeth forged ahead. ‘Oh, I don’t care what’s showing. If they’re open, I’d love to go. Will you come with me?’
‘Of course,’ he smirked. ‘You should really see your face right now.’
Elizabeth clapped her hands together, genuinely thrilled at the prospect of watching an old film in a decades-old theatre. ‘I really hope it’s open.’
‘It probably has fleas.’
‘Don’t care.’
‘Lice and mits.’
‘Don’t you mean nits?’
‘Those as well.’
‘Still don’t care.’
Sam straightened up in his seat and rubbed his eyes. ‘What are you two on about?’
‘Jack says there’s an old cinema in Victoria West.’
‘I thought we were going to Sutherland?’
Jack slowed the Chrysler as they passed a lone cow grazing on the side of the road. The animal was the tallest natural landmark for miles. ‘Change of plan, Sam. That’s the beauty of a trip like this.’
‘Indeed it is,’ he yawned, and then settled back into his seat
. He blinked twice, offered a thumbs up and then, as if in sync with the old Labrador, fell right back to sleep.
‘The man’s a dog,’ Elizabeth remarked, a playful look in her eyes.
A part of Jack wanted to tell Elizabeth about Sam’s cancer. To share the truth of what they would all have to face up to in due course. But he had promised Sam that he wouldn’t. At least not on their trip.
And if Jack was good at anything, it was at keeping his word.
Thirty-two
They stood outside the sunburnt two-storey building with its thick cracks and blistered white paint and stared up at the sign on the wall. Two things were immediately clear. The sheet-metal lettering had been in place for many years and, secondly, the letters had been cut by hand. Unfortunately, the hand in question had not been blessed with any particular deftness. The letters were all of different shapes and sizes, attached separately and at slightly different angles, giving the impression of an old picket fence, battered by years of wind.
‘Isn’t that just brilliant?’ Jack said, lifting up his arms in a gesture of praise. ‘“The Hotel California”. These small towns are something else.’
‘I’m not sure I get it?’
‘C’mon, Lizzie, it’s a song by The Eagles. You must know it.’
‘Oh right,’ she said, nodding. ‘Something about a desert highway in the dark. Wind in your hair. And we’re in the Karoo. Very good.’
Sam turned to Jack. ‘And your guidebook claims that old Pilot here will be welcome?’
‘Apparently. At the same rate as children under twelve.’
Making their way inside, they saw a young man sitting slouched behind the front desk, an enormous set of white headphones cupped over his ears. He arched an eyebrow, sighed and summoned up an annoyed look.
‘As charm offensives go, we’re off to a shaky start,’ Rosie said.
The Last Road Trip Page 9