‘We’ll need a decent light and some strong rope so we can have a better look,’ said Heath, as he went to the back of the ute.
‘So, are we going to have a look then?’ asked Nina, trying to sound matter-of-fact.
Heath rummaged around and emerged with a small backpack. He stood waiting.
Nina looked at him, wanting to be excited but her stomach churned. Now that it was actually happening, she wasn’t so sure. ‘Ben, I wish you could come.’ Really, she thought going back into that dark place again with Heath would be less awkward with someone else there.
‘Wish I could too,’ said Ben wistfully and he threw her Heath’s old hat, frisbee-style, as the two set off.
The morning was cool by the waterhole but the heat intensified as they started walking up the rise past the gallery of paintings. When they reached the top of the hill the soft light of the morning had passed and the sky was a flat, dull blue.
In single file, they repeated their climb down past the prickly bushes to the top of the goat’s head. This time, Nina negotiated the slide on her backside down to the rock-chimney opening more gracefully.
Heath caught up and stood looking at her. ‘You okay?’
She nodded.
He turned and hauled himself up the hole into the cave, dragging the backpack after him. Nina watched him slide in. He held out his arm, she hesitated and then took a firm hold of his rough, strong hand in a monkey grip. Bracing her feet on the rocks, she lifted herself up into the coolness of the cave. Inside, she let go when he gave her hand a squeeze.
‘So now what?’ Her voice was croaky.
Heath squatted at her feet and opened the backpack. He took out a coil of rope, put on a miner’s hat and flicked the switch. The beam revealed the low ceiling and rough walls of fallen stone. Heath stood and Nina followed him the dozen or so steps to the end of the cave where the pile of boulders lay on the soft sand. Nina noticed their footprints from the previous day. He bent over and lassoed the largest boulder above the black empty space and tied the rope off.
‘I’ll go,’ cautioned Heath. ‘It doesn’t look too far but this light’s not too bright.’
Nina looked into the void and dread edged its way into her heart.
‘Won’t be long.’ Heath turned and scrambled across the boulder and eased himself over the edge.
He grabbed the rope in both hands and lowered himself down. The light jumped back and forth, illuminating flashes of rock wall. Other than that, Nina couldn’t see a thing.
After less than a minute, the rope went slack. She waited. Nothing.
‘Heath?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Can you see anything?’
A pause. ‘Ah … no.’
‘What’s down there?’ she called.
Another pause. ‘Hang on.’
‘Heath, have you found something?’ Nina heard her voice falter. The light from his headlamp swept around and then abruptly stopped.
‘I’m coming down,’ she called, pulling on the rope.
‘No!’ he barked. ‘You stay there. I’ll … It’s not safe for us both to be down here.’
‘Heath, what’s there? What’s wrong?’ She looked down into the blackness. ‘Heath, please, talk to me.’
‘I’m coming up,’ he called finally.
The cave was filled with the sound of Heath’s breathing as he hoisted himself up the rope. An age later the breathing got closer and his head and shoulders appeared out of the void. He pushed himself forward on his elbows and scrambled out over the boulder.
‘Hang on. Let me catch my breath.’ He sat panting for a minute.
‘Well?’ she said, searching his face, but he wouldn’t look at her.
He wiped his sleeve across his forehead. His eyes flicked to her face and away again. Nina’s stomach tightened.
Heath stood, reached into his jeans pocket and pulled something out. A ring. It was a heavy gold band, a wedding ring. He held it out on his palm and, meeting her eyes, his expression was full of compassion.
In that moment, Nina knew. She knew it all. Yet still she stepped forward and took the ring. She turned it towards the light of Heath’s head lamp, looking for the familiar inscription inside. The inscription she’d read so many times as a child.
J.L. & J.B. 1/6/1988. Forever. She gripped the ring and brought two fists to her mouth and began to rock back and forth. Behind her, Heath took a step closer.
Nina moved towards the dark edge of the boulder. ‘Is he down there?’
Heath swallowed and slowly nodded.
‘I have to go down and see him, Heath, he’s been alone there for so long. Oh my god. He’s down there in the dark. All alone. Please, please help me get down,’ she pleaded.
‘No,’ he said gently. ‘I’m sorry.’
This was the end of the road, right here. There was nowhere else to go. She sank onto the sand, still gripping the ring. Nina moaned, a cry of desolation, ‘I’m so sorry, Dad.’
Heath squatted beside her and took off the torch. He put his arm around her shoulders.
They sat in silence until Nina lifted her stricken face. ‘I always thought I’d find him one day. He’s never coming back.’ She dropped her forehead onto her knees. ‘Oh god.’ She rocked gently again.
Heath rubbed her shoulder as she moved back and forth, back and forth. She seemed not to notice, lost in her own world, but he knew he had to be here for her.
He had been in that same place after the plane crash. Then he was like the walking dead. As if he’d been killed in the accident too, but no-one had noticed. He was a block of wood, mouthing the words they expected him to say. Useless and hopeless. What he had wanted most in the world was to lie down in a dark room and close his eyes.
And Nina. He could feel she was in that place. But now she was really alone, she had no-one, they were all gone. Even her little dog. He’d had Ben at least, hard as that had been – someone he had to live for.
He turned and drew her closer to him. Her shoulders were tight. As he stared into the darkness of the cave he saw it again, the rocky floor with the dark shape flattened like a shadow. The pale blue of faded jeans had left no doubt as to what it was. A body. A body that had remained undisturbed for a long time. The flesh had disappeared, leaving only the bones holding up the material of the now-fragile clothing. The legs splayed at an odd angle. The skull tipped back awkwardly, surprise still present in the expression frozen in the dry, leathery skin. He had looked with fascinated horror at the remains. Death was a strange certainty when you looked at it up close. The unmistakable shoulder-length hair, the dusty collar, the neck shrivelled.
Her back warmed his arm and he reached down to circle her waist. He held her firmly, closely. He concentrated on slowing his breathing and ridding himself of the image of those black sunken eyes staring up at nothing. He became aware of her. ‘You will get through this,’ he murmured.
He rested his cheek on the top of her head, as if he was coaxing a life back, with the patience of a man who works with animals. Animals. Holding her was like a cow licking its calf after the trauma of birth, lick lick lick, each lick saying wake up, get up, live. Nina was still unresponsive, but Heath started to feel his body relax. I could stay here all day, he thought. All night if I have to.
And it worked. He felt her tremble, like a rigor, and then she moved into his embrace, fitting her head into his shoulder.
He became aware that he was rocking with her, very subtly, in a heartbeat rhythm. She trembled again, and finally subsided into weeping.
Healing tears. She’d be okay now.
But there was a slight problem. Something was happening that he didn’t want her to notice. This was inappropriate. He released one arm and squeezed her shoulder, preparing to separate. But Nina’s hand slid over his bicep and gripped it like a python. What the hell?
She took advantage of his surprise and pushed him backwards onto the soft sand, clutching his arms and laying her body on his. Her eyes were vacant but h
er movements unmistakably signalled her intentions.
Heath clenched and tried to turn aside. It’s wrong, he thought, before the flicker of consciousness drowned and his body responded. As she straddled him, he pulled her down towards him and finally they were looking into each other’s eyes. He grasped her head with both hands and kissed her deeply, as if her mouth were a ripe peach. An age of kissing and being kissed.
Nina let out a groan. She desperately needed to get her body as close to his skin as possible. She arched her back so he could pull off her shorts, dragging them hungrily from her body. She didn’t care about anything except getting closer to life itself. She pulled off her t-shirt and bra, revealing hard, brown nipples.
He cupped his hands around her soft breasts. Nina moaned again. She leaned forward, pulled his shirt off and ran her hands over the soft hair of his chest. Their breath quickened as they caressed each other, lost in a thousand sensations. Leaning forward, she grazed her breasts down the length of his body to the bursting fly of his jeans.
She unzipped him and took him in her hands. She kissed his mouth once more as his hands glided over her back, over the curve of her rump and up to her neck as if he wanted to know every inch of her warm, soft body. She reached to touch his puckered scar. His hand automatically rose to stop her, but she pushed it aside and smiled, and pressing her lips against his disfigured neck, licked and sucked.
He pushed her buttocks tightly towards him and rolled over so she lay beneath. Nina slowed herself as Heath gently kissed her forehead, both eyes, her nose, lips, cheek, neck. He took her nipple in his mouth, ran his hand up her leg and stroked her wet, silky mound.
Nina wanted him inside her now. She moved so that they would be joined, so that the ancient rhythm would take them both away. Their bodies, their smell, their touch became the universe. Everything was right, a frantic rush of pleasure and the fullness of release. She sobbed as they both cried out. They clung together in the soft glow of the lamplight. After a time Nina let out a shudder of breath. Heath moved and they both slowly sat up.
He squeezed her shoulder. ‘Are you okay? I shouldn’t have let that happen. You were in no fit state.’
‘No, it was me,’ said Nina. What is wrong with me?
Nina remembered the night of her mother’s funeral. Theo was the lucky man. She’d hated him for that smirk on his face afterwards, as if he was so clever and desirable.
This was so much more than that. Nina covered her face with her hands. She began to cry, at first because of what had happened just now with Heath but then, with a far greater intensity, for her dead father. Heath held her hand.
Finally, much later, Nina’s crying slowed and she returned to the present. She’d never be able to face Heath, or Ben, or any of them again. She’d throw her suitcase in the car and drive back to Sydney. For good this time. They both stood in a daze, pulling their clothes on, too stunned to think.
Without a word or a glance, Nina stumbled to the opening, grabbed her hat and made her way down the hole to the rock face. Somehow, she negotiated the climb up to the goat’s head and then down again to the beach without any assistance from Heath. She could hear him close behind and was so grateful for his silence. This never happened.
She didn’t reply to Ben’s greeting, just stormed past where he was waiting in the ute. She came to rest, leaning over with her hands on her thighs. Breathe.
Heath went to the driver’s window and said a few words to Ben.
Nina yanked open the passenger door of the ute and climbed across. Ben glanced at Nina. ‘Sorry, mate,’ he said. ‘Really sorry.’
Heath climbed in next to her. ‘Let’s go,’ he said.
As the ute pulled up outside The Springs, Nina had to insist that they leave her alone.
‘No way, Neens,’ Ben said, dismayed. She saw him look at his brother for confirmation, but Heath didn’t weigh in.
‘We can’t leave you here,’ Ben continued. ‘You can stay the night at Kurrabar. Right, Heath?’
Heath gave a nod.
‘No … no,’ she said. ‘I mean, thanks, but no. I have to be here. At home.’
Ben continued to argue until Heath said, ‘Well, if you really want to stay at The Springs, how about I call Moira and ask her to come round?’
Nina felt tears prickle her eyes. Moira. Yes. It was Moira she wanted.
Heath looked at Nina. ‘I’ll have to call Barry Kemp, too. The police sergeant,’ he reminded her. ‘The news will get around. Do you want me to let Harrison know? Otherwise he’ll hear about it some other way.’
Nina nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
Finally, they let her out and she headed for the house like an animal running for shelter. The flyscreen door banged behind her and she heard them drive off. Inside, Nina leaned against the wall for a moment, lightheaded from the heat. Then she noticed how filthy her shorts were and tore them off. She stumbled as she kicked off her shoes on the way to the shower. Her only thought was to wash away everything that had happened in the cave. And she had to do it before Moira arrived.
Nina stood under the warm trickle, her eyes closed. She saw the rope disappearing into the darkness, the wedding ring in her grimy palm. A horrible death. How long had he lain there? Was it quick or was he there for days, a week? A lonely death. She shuddered and then her thoughts morphed into how Heath’s hands felt on her body; she felt herself flinch as she recalled the sheer power of her need. What choice had she given him? She turned off the water and lathered her hair, scrubbing hard. The cave was over now. She had to put it behind her. Heath would never be hers. She could tell he regretted what had happened. He belonged to Deborah.
She slid soap all over her body and turned on the water again to rinse, raising her face to the shower head. The pipe shuddered, water spat and became a trail of drips.
‘Shit!’ Nina turned it off. She wiped her stinging eyes and wrapped her head in a towel. Putting on another towel as a sarong, she went to find a bucket. Then she stepped carefully across the crunchy grass out to the tanks, climbing the ladder to get at the tap.
She held the bucket under the tank tap and turned it on. Warm brown water trickled to almost fill the bucket before it ran out for good.
She stared at the tap for a moment, willing it not to be so. Tears gathered in her eyes as she climbed down. The other tank had been empty for weeks. The Springs was now completely dry.
Nina took the precious water into the bathroom and sluiced herself with a cup, sitting in the bath. She could fill her jerry cans at Kurrabar if she dared to face Heath. But the only option if she was going to stay out here was to buy water. She couldn’t afford enough for more than a few weeks. This was the death knell for The Springs. Evacuation was the next step.
Sitting in the bath with her forearms resting on the rim of the bucket, she felt the fresh water evaporate from her skin and tried to savour that cool sensation. She hadn’t realised till this moment how Jim’s imagined spirit had animated The Springs for her, made it special, alive. But he’d been dead bones for years. For years and years. The Springs was empty. That knowledge was like calling into a chasm that returned no echo. Nina dropped her head and let the tears come again.
Early next morning, Nina sat in a plastic chair watching the white cockatoos graze on Moira and Roy’s lawn as the world lightened. Inside the house, everyone slept on, but she had had a restless night, and when she heard the birds she’d come outside.
Moira had insisted Nina stay with her and she had surrendered to being bossed. It hadn’t taken long for word to get around about what had been found in the cave and she’d only been out of the bath ten minutes or so when the police arrived, complete with blaring radios, flashing lights and a lot of questions. ‘Can you confirm this is your father’s wedding ring? When did you last see him? How did you know where to find him?’ The questions all blurred into one another. Shame they hadn’t been this interested when he first went missing, Nina thought ruefully.
Moira had turne
d up as the police were leaving, and before she knew it Nina was settled in the older woman’s kitchen, eating cold corned beef sandwiches.
It was good here. A neutral space, Nina thought as she turned her face to the rising sun. She could think here, as long as the others – Heath – stayed away. She recalled Moira answering the phone last night. It was him. She hadn’t wanted to come to the phone and Moira had looked at her questioningly.
‘He’s just checking you’re okay, love. Told him you were done in.’
Nina gazed across the yard to an object that must have been made by Heath. Once she focused, Nina could hear the low hum of a pump. The centre was the thick dark trunk of a dead tree that grew straight up from the ground. A series of four pale yellow fibreglass curves were attached to the wood like descending stairs, their shapes fluting elegantly up and outwards. Water trickled over the lip of the top curve and cascaded through each of the shapes to the bottom. Nina saw immediately that Heath had mirrored the shape of fungi growing on forest trees to make a bird bath. Two galahs were quarrelling noisily as they splashed in the water.
Nina sighed then rested her chin on her palm. Her face felt tender, like it had been wind-burnt. What? Heath’s stubble. God. A wave of guilt then, no, pleasure came over her. What is wrong with me? she thought. There was no way she could have spoken to Heath on the phone last night. Moira would have taken one look at her and she would have known. Nina didn’t want to see him again. And she was sure he didn’t want to see her.
‘Okay, mate?’ It was Roy, bearing two cups of tea. ‘Smart woman getting some peace and quiet while you can,’ he said, picking his way to a chair next to hers across the bindies in the lawn. ‘That lot have just got up and are raring to go.’ He motioned to the screen door, which was thrown open by four young boys who tore across the lawn. Two of them punched footballs in the air while the others did handstands on the grass. Soon, Matty’s cousin, Alfie, appeared at the screen door.
‘Morning, Uncle Roy, Nina,’ he mumbled as he passed them and joined in the footy game.
The Painted Sky Page 25