‘You didn’t seem surprised when I told you Henry’s bike was down in that basement,’ I say.
Doherty sighs. ‘Bernie thought Ivy Weaver may have given it away out of spite. He hoped Henry might return home and want it again.’
‘So what was the deal with those polaroids?’
He gets a look on his face like he’s about to pull the confidential police business card, but then he relents. ‘Bernie thought he saw a bruise on Henry’s lower back and was trying to take some covert photos. He shared them with me because he was worried something might be happening to Henry at home. Did Henry ever mention anything like that to you?’
‘No,’ I admit. ‘Not anything physically abusive. Although he did talk about how hard his mother could be to live with.’ We pause on the footpath outside the police station. ‘I really jumped to the wrong conclusion when I saw the bike and those photos.’
‘Listen,’ Doherty says. ‘Even though I think you went about some things the wrong way, I really admire how tenacious you were about finding Henry. He was lucky to have such a loyal friend. We might still be wondering where he was if you hadn’t kept pushing.’
‘I had so much wrong,’ I say. ‘I missed so many clues.’
He shakes his head. ‘You think there aren’t detectives out there who say exactly the same thing? Doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be in the job. It means the job is really hard. You were getting closer to the truth all the time.’
He walks me over to the ute where Dad is waiting for me. There’s an awkward exchange of nodding and mumbled greetings through the open passenger-side window.
‘How’s Rafi Nolan?’ Doherty asks, holding the door open for me as I climb into the car.
‘I’m on my way to see him now,’ I say, my mood lifting slightly. ‘He came home from hospital last night. They kept him under observation for a couple of days to rule out secondary drowning.’
‘Well, give him my best,’ he says, clunking the door closed for me. He takes a few steps towards the footpath and then quickly doubles back, bending over to speak through the window.
‘Sorry, I forgot to mention—’ he directs this at my dad, ‘—a witness came forward who saw a youth called Darren Foster exiting your residence on the afternoon the motel office was ransacked. He admitted he was paid to do it by … uh … my brother Jack, actually.’
Dad and I exchange a quick glance but say nothing.
‘Anyway,’ Doherty says, tapping the car’s roof to send us on our way, ‘let me know if you want to press charges.’
* * *
Dad and I are embraced warmly as we enter the Nolans’ home, and it’s exactly what I need after my difficult talk with Tom. Rina and her mum are also here, dropping off some flowers for Raf. Luisa assures us she’s locked the motel office and is already on her way back. I notice a lingering look between my dad and Luisa as she’s leaving, and he insists on walking her out even though we’ve only just arrived. Rina raises a curious eyebrow at me, and I find myself returning it with one of my own.
Sally and Liv fuss over me like they did when I visited Raf in the hospital. They keep clutching me to them, thanking me for ‘saving our boy’. Every time I hear them say the words, it’s like they’re talking about somebody else. The whole thing’s a blur, from the moment Raf ’s feet left Devil’s Rock to Sergeant Doherty finding us on the bank of the reservoir. Every time my mind’s able to snatch a clear memory, I start to feel ill and panicked, like I need to sit down. Dad’s suggested I could speak to a counsellor when I’m back in Sydney, and it seems like a good idea. There’s a whole list of things I need to work through.
‘Hey,’ Sabeen says, walking in from the living room and folding me in a hug. ‘Are you okay? How did it go?’
Up until now I was doing my best to hold things together. The worry in Sabeen’s eyes makes my own grow hot. I try to blink the tears away but one manages to escape down my cheek. Grief keeps sneaking up on me, on all of us. For months we’ve been stuck in an uneasy holding pattern, missing Henry, waiting for news, hoping he’d walk back in the door. It’s hard to get our heads around the fact that everything’s changed now. The reality keeps ambushing us like a terrible surprise.
‘We’ll get through this,’ Sabeen says.
Nodding quickly, I dab at my face with my sleeve. ‘Yep.’
‘We will,’ she says. ‘All of us, together.’
I’ve never been more thankful for Sabeen’s unwavering loyalty, her insistence on keeping our friendship group tight, for not letting us fall apart despite the friction over the last year. She’s our glue. We need her now more than ever.
‘I’m going to help Mum and Min pull some lunch together,’ she says. ‘Will you stay?’
‘Of course.’
‘Good. We’ll talk later about your meeting with Tom.’ She turns, gesturing towards the living room. ‘For now, there’s a doofus in there who hasn’t stopped asking me what time you’re coming over. You’d better put him out of his misery.’
I muster a smile. Despite everything, my stomach still manages to fizz in that nervous way when I think about Raf. Sabeen looks at me like she knows, and I have to wonder if her brother’s confessed about where we were on the night of the storm. It will all come out now anyway, the circumstances of that night. It’s time for everybody to tell the truth.
Raf ’s slouched across the living room couch with a cat on his lap, the other one stretched out on the seat cushion next to him. He’s wearing a NASA T-shirt and chequered pyjama bottoms, his hair floppy and unbrushed.
‘You shouldn’t have dressed up,’ I say as I walk in.
He smiles, tossing his phone onto the seat cushion and sitting upright. The cat on his lap slinks onto the floor and scurries away. ‘Doctor’s orders. I’m allowed to be as much of a slob as I like.’
I haven’t had a chance to talk to him alone. At the hospital, at least one of his mums or Sabeen was always around.
‘How are you doing?’ I take a seat beside him. Up close, I notice the deep shadows under his eyes have started to fade. He has more colour in his cheeks as well.
‘Stitches are getting itchy,’ he says, fiddling with the square adhesive bandage tucked under his hairline. ‘Cough’s better though. Only a little rattle now.’
There’s a pause, which feels like the moment to lean over and hug him, but it’s suddenly awkward because touching him now means so much more. Raf tugs at his T-shirt and I chew the inside of my lip. In a blink, the moment’s gone.
‘Did you speak to your mum?’ he asks.
‘Yeah. She’s letting me stay until after Henry’s funeral. She’ll drive down here for it and then take me back with her.’
‘That’s going to be a hard day,’ Raf says, swallowing.
I look down at my lap. ‘Mm.’
‘They’re all hard days at the moment, aren’t they?’ His voice trembles. I lean towards him, reaching my hand over to slide into his. He links his fingers through mine and our eyes meet.
‘I was really scared,’ I whisper. ‘I thought I’d lost you.’
‘God, I’m so sorry.’
‘What for?’
‘I wasn’t even conscious and can’t remember a thing,’ he says. ‘You’re the one who has to carry that memory around.’
I don’t tell him how much I’m struggling with the trauma of what happened. ‘It’ll get easier with time.’
He brings our linked hands up to his mouth and kisses the back of mine.
‘Have I thanked you yet?’ Raf says, giving me an impish grin. ‘For saving my life?’
‘About four times already.’
‘Well, hey – let’s round it up to five.’ He untangles his fingers from mine and places my hand over his heart. ‘Thank you, Chloe Baxter.’
I press my palm against his T-shirt, feeling his body heat through the fabric. I almost imagine I can feel his heartbeat too, although that somersaulting pulse is more likely to be mine.
‘Chloe?’ My dad’s voice. I g
lance up to see his head poking through the doorway. ‘I’m heading home.’
I reluctantly return my hand to my lap and half-turn to face him.
‘You’re looking better,’ Dad says to Raf. ‘Maybe when you’re back on your feet we can catch a game of cricket sometime.’
‘Oh. I mean, sure …’ Raf starts.
I see the twinkle in my dad’s eye.
‘He’s messing with you,’ I tell Raf. ‘He knows you hate cricket.’
Raf blows out a long breath, relieved.
Dad winks. ‘Maybe come down one night for dinner instead.’
‘Now that I can do,’ Raf replies.
‘Listen,’ Dad says to me, ‘Mason’s arrived. Will you talk to him about what we discussed?’
‘Yeah. Definitely.’
As Dad leaves, Sabeen appears with a jug of water and some glasses. She carries them out to the deck, where we’ll eat lunch.
‘I’d better go and help,’ I say, standing. I take a few steps towards the kitchen before quickly doubling back.
Raf looks up expectantly. ‘What?’
Leaning over, I cup my hands around Raf ’s face and lower mine to meet it. I press my lips against his and feel the warmth spreading through me as he eagerly responds.
‘Whoa,’ Sabeen says on her return trip through the living room. ‘Just so you know, I saw that.’
I smile down at Raf and he grins back.
‘It’s not a secret,’ I say. We’ve all had enough of those.
Now
‘Mason, love,’ Liv says, ‘it’s so good to see you.’
She invites him in and pulls him into a hug. He’s not quite sure he’s feeling up to this. He hasn’t left the house in a couple of days, but he wanted to check in with Raf now that he’s home from hospital. Mason hasn’t been able to text anyone since his phone was smashed in his pocket on Roberts Road.
He’ll have to buy a new one. A car, too. He’ll have to do a lot of things, none of which he can face at the moment. For now he’ll work on breathing in and out, putting one foot in front of the other.
As soon as he walks into the kitchen he sees Rina. She’s pulling on her jacket in readiness to leave. He wonders if that’s on his account or if she was on her way out anyway. She gives him a sad sort of smile and his throat tightens. Even though they’re not together anymore, the familiarity of her makes him feel safe, or calm, or … something. He’s having trouble deciphering his feelings these days.
Chloe appears in the kitchen doorway. He can tell by the way she holds eye contact that she’s spoken to Tom. Mason couldn’t do it. He’s not even sure he’s strong enough for talking to Chloe about it. This morning was rough. He found Ivy in Henry’s bedroom again, hunched on the bed, facing the wall. He sat down next to her and they stayed like that for ages, not talking, not doing anything. If she hadn’t got up and walked into the kitchen for a cigarette, Mason might have thought time had stopped.
Chloe comes over to say farewell to Rina and they exchange a slightly stiff hug. Mason remembers the tension on New Year’s Eve, and Rina’s fierce loyalty to him.
‘I was thinking,’ Rina says to Chloe, ‘I might come up to Sydney on the train to do some tours of university campuses. Maybe we could get lunch or something?’
‘Good for you,’ Sally says from the kitchen counter. ‘What are you thinking of studying?’
‘I don’t know yet.’ Rina ducks her head. ‘It’s just an idea. Time to think about what to do with myself after Year Twelve.’
She throws a quick glance Mason’s way and he realises how unfair he’s been on her, creating travel plans with her and then pulling the plug. If he’s honest, he never had any intention of hanging around until Rina finished high school because he knew they wouldn’t be together for that long. Rina had been planning a future with Mason, but Mason hadn’t thought any further than escaping his past. He’d always been convinced Rina deserved somebody better; now he realises she deserves somebody different. He can’t keep pretending to be someone he’s not.
‘Okay,’ Chloe tells her. ‘Lunch sounds good.’
‘Maybe you’ll even let me eat this time,’ Rina says wryly, and Chloe’s mouth quirks at what’s obviously some kind of private joke.
As Rina passes Mason on her way out, he follows her into the hall. They stop near the front door and Mason tries to find the right words for all the things he needs to tell her.
‘I’m sorry for what I said at the pizzeria,’ he says, fiddling with the bandages on his hands. ‘It was insensitive and I was a complete dick about it.’
She nods. ‘You were right, though. We did stay together too long when it wasn’t working.’
‘I never wanted to hurt you.’
She sighs. ‘We’ve both done things we regret.’ She bites her lip and averts her gaze, like she’s about to say something else, then her expression clears. ‘Let’s talk more soon.’ She stretches to kiss his cheek. ‘Take care of yourself.’
When Mason returns to the kitchen, it’s a hive of activity. It’s all a bit much, so he slips into the living room to check up on Raf. Mason tagged along with Chloe and her dad on one of their visits to the hospital, and he’s pleased to find Raf looking more like himself than the limp, washed-out version he’d been in the hospital bed.
They manage to touch on the events of the last few days without wading into uncomfortable territory about Henry and Tom.
‘How’s your mum?’ Raf asks after a while. ‘Did you hear back about that rehab place?’
‘Yeah. Your parents are magicians,’ Mason says. ‘They’ve found her somewhere already. There’s a room available next week, after Easter.’
Sally and Liv have helped Ivy secure a place in a government-assisted rehab program that will help with her drinking and gambling, and also provide grief counselling. It’s a residential treatment facility in Sydney where she can have round-the-clock support. For most of his life Mason’s fantasised about what it would be like if Ivy walked out the way his father and Wayne had, how it would feel to exist in that house without her ominous presence haunting every room. But he’d never imagined she might return stable and sober – it would be like meeting a whole new person. Mason wasn’t sure he should let himself entertain that hope.
Chloe trails into the living room and waits for a lull in the conversation.
‘Can I talk to you for a minute?’ she says to Mason. She leads him out onto the Nolans’ back deck, where they can be alone. They stand side by side at the deck railing, taking in the view across the national park to the reservoir.
‘I need to apologise again,’ she says, ‘for making your life so difficult these last few months. There were things going on I didn’t know about, and you’re right – it wasn’t any of my business.’
Mason swallows and looks out over the trees.
‘You may have noticed, I can be incredibly stubborn,’ she says. ‘And more than a little bossy. I’m going to work on it, though.’
‘Fair enough.’
‘And I wouldn’t be stubborn, bossy me if I didn’t point out that I think you have some things you need to work on too.’
Mason meets her eyes and nods. ‘I do.’
Her shoulders relax and she seems relieved. She clasps her hands in front of her. ‘Okay. So my dad and I have this idea. We’re wondering if you’d like to move into the motel – your room, Room Fifteen – for the time being. You know, semi-permanently, while your mum is in rehab. And even after she’s home again, if you like.’
Mason’s speechless for a moment. ‘Like, live with your dad?’
‘And me, when I’m here. Not in our unit, though – you’d have your own space. If you ever want a soak in the bath or need a full kitchen to cook in, you can use ours. We’ll give you a set of keys.’
‘I—I don’t know what to say.’
And he doesn’t. His throat tightens and he swallows over and over again as he works to hold it together. No one’s ever offered to help, not like this. Mason har
dly wanted to be at home before, but now it’s unbearable, the way he and Ivy drift in and out of rooms like ghosts in a graveyard. Even when Ivy’s gone, there are too many memories in that house. Mostly bad ones. Also memories about Henry and their childhood, what they’ve endured, everywhere he turns. Mason will sit alone every night in that weatherboard prison and drink until he passes out, to numb that growing ache.
‘You wouldn’t have to pay board or rent,’ Chloe continues, obviously still trying to sell the idea. ‘You can use the motel laundry for your washing. And when you want some company or someone to talk to, we’re right there. My dad’s a great listener, and – Mason? Are you okay?’
Resting his elbows on the railing, he places his head in his hands as his body is racked with sobs. ‘Sorry,’ he croaks, before another sob escapes. Everything pours out of him like a valve has been released.
‘Heeey,’ Chloe says gently, placing a hand on his back. She rubs it in a circular motion. ‘It’s all right, Mason. You don’t have to go through this alone.’
He takes a few shuddery breaths and nods quickly, his voice hiccuping. ‘It’s just. Built up. A bit. You know?’
‘I do know.’ She wipes tears from her own eyes, and something about that makes Mason feel a lot better.
He blows out a big sigh, shaking his head. ‘We’ve got some stuff to work through, huh?’
She gives him a watery smile. ‘So come and do it at our place. Please?’
‘Okay,’ he says at last. ‘When?’
Her eyes soften in that affectionate way they always did for Henry.
‘We’ve already cleaned your shower and made your bed,’ she tells him. ‘Dinner’s at six.’
Now
‘Tell me about Tom,’ Mason says. ‘What did you talk about when you saw him?’
He doesn’t look at me, casting his view out over the reservoir instead. We’re sitting on Devil’s Rock with our feet dangling over the edge, the sky above us a surreal shade of pink, dotted here and there with early stars. When I explained to Mason how much I was struggling with what happened here, he suggested we walk down and watch the sunset. Make a new memory. I feel like this is as much for him as it is for me – he hasn’t been back here since the incident on Boxing Day.
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