The Road Back

by Di Morrissey

  ‘I see what you mean,’ said Susan. ‘What a good thing Georgia loves Neverend,’ she added brightly.

  ‘Mum, she’s only been to Neverend once!’ said Chris.

  ‘You never know, she might come again,’ said Susan. She patted his knee. ‘In the meantime, concentrate on your book.’

  ‘I intend to. So what do you make of Norma’s news?’

  Susan was thoughtful. ‘It shocked and saddened me. It’s hard to believe that Alan’s actions, or inactions, created the circumstances in which Jimmy died.’

  ‘I’d like to front up to him about it.’

  ‘You know he would probably just threaten to sue you,’ said Susan.

  ‘True, and if there is nothing to back up the story except hearsay, then he would win.’

  ‘You know what I’m thinking? I’d like to contact Jimmy’s brother Thomas and tell him what happened. I expect that Jimmy’s parents would probably be dead by now, but Thomas is still very much alive. I’m sure he would be very interested in what we found out.’

  ‘That is a good idea, Mum,’ said Chris. ‘And I think I might be able to help you with that. I know someone in Washington who went to work for Thomas in a pretty senior position. Why don’t I email him and find out how to contact Thomas’s PA directly? That way your email should get to him.’

  *

  Megan bounced out to meet them as the car drove up the driveway of Susan’s house. Chris waved his book contract at her as he and Susan got out of the car.

  ‘I’m going to make this book happen . . . and sell heaps and heaps of copies!’ he told her as she raced down the steps to meet them.

  ‘Good on you, Dad.’ Megan hugged them both.

  ‘Thanks, sweetie. So everything was okay while we were away? Biddi got fed and you stayed at Toby’s last night? I must call his parents and thank them.’

  ‘They’re really nice. A bit nerdy. I mean, they’re really smart. They hardly watch TV or anything. But it was okay.’

  ‘Who won the Scrabble?’

  ‘Toby’s dad. But I didn’t do too bad.’

  ‘Badly,’ Chris corrected. ‘Well, maybe we could have a game one night with Bunny. I bet your grandmother would win.’

  Susan laughed and started towards the house with her bag.

  ‘Dad, since you’re home well before dark, could you drive me over to Mollie’s?’ Megan asked. ‘I’ll have time for a ride if you do.’

  Chris hesitated. He was tired after the six-hour drive and didn’t really want to go out again that day, but there was something about Megan’s demeanour that suggested she wanted to have a private talk with him.

  ‘Sure. Throw your gear into the car.’

  As they headed along View Street, Chris asked again about Megan’s weekend, but when he turned onto the road heading out of town along the river, Megan suddenly pointed out the window, catching her breath.

  ‘Look, Dad. That car. See it?’

  ‘What about it?’ A dark blue car with tinted windows was parked under the heavy foliage of an old tree. The car suddenly looked familiar. Chris went cold.

  ‘That car was in our street yesterday and I am sure it followed me when I rode my bike to Toby’s.’

  ‘Was it there this morning?’

  ‘I didn’t come home till this afternoon. Not long before you arrived.’

  Chris decided to make a rapid U-turn so that he didn’t have to go past the car, and headed back into town. But a few seconds later, Megan cried out, ‘Dad, it’s following us.’

  Chris looked in his rear-vision mirror and saw the car immediately behind him. He put his foot down and headed towards the main street, busy with locals and tourists.

  Looking over her shoulder, Megan squealed as she saw the blue car rocket up the main street close behind them. Then suddenly it made a hard right turn onto one of the side streets and disappeared from view.

  Chris pulled over to the side of the road.

  ‘Do you think he was following us, or just being an idiot, Dad?’

  Chris evaded her question. ‘Let’s not worry about some hothead. You still right to go to Mollie’s?’

  ‘Yes, please,’ said Megan, firmly.

  ‘Great. Let’s go. Squire will be waiting for his carrot,’ said Chris, trying to sound cheerful. But as he pulled back onto the road he was silently considering whether or not to mention his concerns to the local police. He had no doubt that the blue car was the same one he’d seen outside their house a couple of evenings ago, but why on earth would someone be watching their home?

  In the sparkling light of Monday morning, as he looked from the lounge room windows across the valley to the bush of the distant plateau, Chris’s fears from the previous evening seemed irrational. His mother had picked some of her winter crop of tomatoes and was roasting them in fresh basil and garlic, and their glorious tang drifted out to him from the kitchen. He could hear Megan singing along to a favourite Harry Styles song as she got dressed for school. A willy wagtail landed on the verandah railing and sang cheerfully.

  Morning in Neverend rolled along at its usual peaceful pace.

  Chris headed into the study to do some work on his book. After a fruitless few minutes, he pushed his laptop to one side and decided to tidy the cluttered papers, folders and notes on the desk. Perhaps by creating order he’d be able to focus his scrambled thoughts. He stacked his reference materials, transcribed notes from interviews and scribbled jottings into neat piles. He looked at the screen of his laptop, which was also smothered with files and folders. Maybe the first thing he’d do when he got his advance would be to buy a decent computer. This one had been dragged around the world and was probably nearing its use-by date. He glanced at the time, closed down the computer and went out to say goodbye to Megan and get ready for work.

  ‘See ya, Dad.’

  ‘You off too? Bye, Chris,’ Susan called to him.

  ‘Yes, see you later, Mum. Anything on your agenda today?’

  ‘I’ve got a Red Cross meeting, lunch with my friend Valerie, then I thought I might go into Coffs to look at some material. Pasta all right for dinner?’

  ‘Sounds good. I’m heading to the plateau, so would you like me to get anything from the foodie place up there?’

  ‘No thanks, all good. See you this evening. How’s Shaun, by the way?’

  ‘Not bad. Still hobbling a bit and missing his golf.’

  As Chris drove towards the plateau, his mind sifted through the various aspects of his book. Norma’s story about Alan painted a picture of a single-minded, even cruel man, and it seemed to Chris, based on the limited knowledge he had of Alan’s business dealings, that Alan had carried these traits into his corporate life. But where to go from here, Chris wondered. Without corroboration from Alan, he couldn’t use the information he’d been given by Norma, and Carla’s friend could not supply him with any evidence of wrongdoing at Alan’s Victorian development either. All Chris could say for certain was that Alan was shrewd and used his powerful position to his advantage, and there was nothing unique about that.

  Such intense musings helped the time pass and soon Chris had arrived on the plateau with its rolling pastures, still surprisingly green even in these early winter months. He made his deliveries, pausing to talk only briefly with his regulars, then stopped for a quick sandwich and coffee at one of the little cafés in the main street. It was still early afternoon, but rain clouds had begun to heap on the horizon. Chris was pleased that he could begin the winding journey back down the mountain on the hazardous road before any rain started.

  There seemed to be little traffic using the road and he hoped the quarry trucks had finished for the day. He switched his news station to the classical music one so he could fully concentrate on the road, although he admitted to himself that he was far more confident about the drive than he had been when he started the job.


  About five minutes later, as he rounded the first of the road’s notorious hairpin bends, he caught a glimpse in his rear-vision mirror of a car behind him.

  ‘Sorry, mate,’ he said aloud. ‘Nowhere for you to get past me for quite a while. You’ll just have to be patient.’

  A light misting of rain blew across the windscreen. Chris turned on the wipers, only to find they wouldn’t work. The rain wasn’t heavy, but he didn’t need such a malfunction right now. Around and down, around and down, the van twisted its way towards Neverend. The thick foliage that covered the hillside on the opposite side of the road and the densely wooded ravine beside him were becoming wetter as the rain increased. The road was greasy and as he slowed to round the next bend, he was relieved to feel the van’s brakes grab the wet bitumen without any trouble.

  As he drove on in the deteriorating conditions, he thought he might have to pull over, but when he tried the wipers again, he found that they would at least work on intermittent speed. He decided to press on. He briefly looked into the rear-vision mirror again and caught another glimpse of the dark car still behind him, its headlights on low beam. The driver was clearly getting impatient with Chris’s reduced speed, for the car had edged closer to the van.

  ‘Calm down, mate,’ said Chris. ‘There’s a place where I can pull over in just a minute. I’ll get out of your way then.’

  But suddenly the car shot out from behind the van and drew level with Chris, who eased up sharply to let the car get past.

  ‘You’re nuts!’ yelled Chris angrily. ‘You can’t overtake here. If something is coming the other way, you’re dead meat.’

  Then to his horror Chris realised the car wasn’t trying to overtake him, but was staying beside him and nudging closer to the van.

  ‘Hey, you stupid bastard . . .’

  Chris glanced across at the car in disbelief. He couldn’t see the driver through the car’s tinted windows, but he suddenly realised that it looked like the same car that had been outside Susan’s house the previous week and had intimidated him and Megan the day before.

  As the blue car and the van rounded the next bend, side by side, there was the frantic honking of a horn. A gravel truck was slowly climbing the mountain road in the opposite direction and the blue car was right in its path. Chris braked, struggling to control the van on the slippery road, and the blue car squeezed between the van and the truck and roared off into the distance. Chris drove on slowly, sweating and shaking.

  Was that just a crazy driver in a hurry, or had it been a deliberate attempt to push him off the road and into the ravine that ran alongside it?

  Chris drove on. The windscreen wipers were now barely coping as the rain got heavier. He concentrated on the difficult road, very relieved that he was nearly at the bottom of the mountain. He made a routine glance into his rear-vision mirror to see what was behind him and was astonished to see that he was again being followed by the blue car. He realised at once that the car had simply pulled over into one of the tourist lookouts at the side of the road and waited there for Chris to drive past. The blue car was rapidly gaining on him and Chris knew that if it again tried to push against the van on the slippery road, he might well lose control and he and the van would go over the edge. He decided to try to outpace the blue car. He floored the accelerator, but the blue car stayed right on his tail. The workhorse van was proving to be no match for the more powerful engine of the blue car, but Chris was on very familiar terms with the road and he knew that in less than three kilometres there was a side road where he could turn off. He just had to stay in front of the blue car until then.

  The two vehicles thundered down the mountainside, the blue car continually trying to draw level with Chris. Cars coming the other way blew their horns in alarm and pulled over to the side of the narrow road to avoid being hit.

  This idiot will kill someone, Chris thought angrily. Most likely me.

  The road began to level out, but the blue car did not let up. Chris knew that the small side road was approaching. As late as he dared, he shifted down his gears and did a hard left onto the narrow road, which was almost hidden beneath an archway of trees. The blue car, taken by surprise by Chris’s actions, shot past the turn-off and disappeared into the distance. Chris pulled the van up in front of the small general store that stood a few metres away. He was shaking as he rolled down his window to gulp breaths of cool, damp air. There was no doubt now in his mind. The driver in the blue car had been trying to push him off the mountain.

  He got out of the van and leaned against the door for a minute until he got his breathing under control. Then he went into the store and pulled a bottle of water from the refrigerated cabinet and, holding it in trembling hands, drank it down.

  Ten minutes later he got back into the van and drove the rest of the way into Neverend. He kept glancing in his rear-vision mirror, but the blue car didn’t reappear.

  Chris parked the van in Shaun’s shed in town and grabbed his jacket, then walked slowly home, oblivious to the showery weather. He was deeply concerned. He knew now, beyond any shadow of doubt, that he was being targeted by someone. And he was also sure that the loose wheel nuts which had caused Shaun’s accident had been meant for him. Moreover, it was not just he who had been targeted. Susan’s house and Megan had also been watched. What was he to do?

  Chris didn’t mention what had happened over dinner that night, but when it had all been cleared away, he glanced at his watch and said, ‘I’m going for a stroll. I’ll be back by eight, everyone.’ He stepped outside and, after checking the guesthouse and his car, walked down View Street towards the town. The street was deserted and he glanced back at the house, its lights shining a welcome cosiness.

  Anger welled up in him. How dare someone threaten his home, which should have been the safest place in the world? He walked past the Neverend Hotel and the shopping centre and approached the police station. He was relieved to see through the glass door that Sergeant Pete Pollard was on the evening shift.

  The sergeant waved when he spotted him and came over to let him in. ‘G’day, Chris. I’ve got the kettle on. Or do you want a soft drink? What can I do for you?’

  ‘Tea, coffee, either would be great.’ Chris took a deep breath. ‘Pete, I know how this is going to sound, but I think that my family and I are being targeted by someone.’

  ‘Take a seat and tell me what’s been going on.’

  As Pete made instant coffee, Chris gave him a brief run-down on what had happened to him that afternoon, and the previous incidents in which he had seen the blue car watching the house and then been followed and intimidated by it. Pete set a mug of coffee down in front of Chris and sipped his own. ‘So you don’t think that the car this afternoon was just being driven by idiots out to scare you?’

  ‘Well, they certainly scared me. But I don’t think it was a random action. I don’t think Frenchy’s crash was an accident, either. I should have been driving that van, not him.’

  ‘What sort of car was it, Chris?’

  ‘Some sort of Japanese car. I really didn’t take it in. Mazda, Toyota? Probably a Mazda. Pretty sure it was a hatchback, too. And I know you’ll ask me about the number plates, but I can’t help you there. I didn’t see them, and when I think about that, it’s because they were smeared with mud.’

  ‘So, mate, is there anyone you can think of who would want to frighten you and your family?’

  Chris sipped his coffee. ‘I don’t think so. I mean, most people I might have had problems with are overseas, and those problems were a long time ago. I can’t see anyone chasing me to Neverend to get me. Besides, I don’t think that anything I did or wrote was enough to have me killed. None of this makes sense.’

  ‘This book I hear you’re writing; would that make you any enemies?’

  ‘Pete, three of my subjects are more than happy to help me. I did initially get a letter from Alan Carmichael�
�s lawyer about defamation, but I got Duncan’s brother in Coffs to send one back to say that I would be going ahead with the book, but I wouldn’t be writing anything that was likely to offend him. I’ve heard nothing since.’

  Pete gave a low whistle. ‘Carmichael is a big name. You don’t do things by halves, my friend, but I can’t see him chasing you down the plateau road. And as you say, he’s the sort who uses lawyers when he doesn’t like something. Have you told your mother about all this?’

  ‘No, but I will. I’ll tell her to be on the lookout for dark blue cars,’ Chris said bitterly.

  ‘Well, I’ll make sure that we keep an eye on your house and we’ll watch out for dark blue cars as well, but I’m not sure we can do much more at this stage.’

  ‘You know, Pete, I don’t like the idea of being threatened in my own home town. It makes me angry to think that someone is trying to invade my space,’ said Chris. ‘But thanks for your help. I’ll tell Mum that someone from the cop shop will be poking around the house regularly. Mind you, I’m not sure that Mum would be easily intimidated, but best we don’t take any chances. And thanks for the coffee, mate.’ He drained his mug and stood to leave.

  The sergeant opened the door and put his hand on Chris’s shoulder. ‘Take care, Chris.’

  As he walked back to the house, Chris felt comforted by Pete’s support and relieved that he had reported the events, but still uncertain about what his next move should be. It felt good to stretch his legs. The rain clouds had cleared and the sky was bright and clear, studded with a zillion stars. The Milky Way was a brush stroke across the velvety night canvas. This was the kind of sky you never saw in a city.

  On an impulse, he didn’t walk straight back to View Street but continued on the lower road, towards the river. The old white bridge spanned the silky silent water. How many times had he fished from this bridge, swum beneath it with his dog and his mates, or driven across it; a link with home and other places, always the beginning and end of a journey. Here, in the darkness, he had no sense of anyone watching him; no car in the shadows, no danger, no threats. All around him felt safe and peaceful. But for how long, he wondered. He had to make some decisions.