Justin didn’t answer. He carried a second plate of breakfast to the table and sat down.
Ben reached for the coffee. Despite its heat, he downed most of the mug in one go, then refilled it before sitting down to eat.
‘Thanks for driving home last night.’
Justin shrugged. ‘You weren’t driving yourself, that was for sure.’
‘Yeah. I guess I overdid it a bit.’
Justin snorted. ‘A bit?’
‘All right. A lot.’ The food tasted great and Ben could feel his energy returning with each mouthful. He grabbed some toast from the plate in the middle of the table and spooned some of his beans over it.
‘That might be your last chance for a while,’ Justin said seriously. ‘The weather report says it’s continuing hot and dry. With storms.’
They both knew what that meant. The relief from the rain that stopped the last fire was long gone. In fact, it was only going to make matters worse. The grass that had sprouted in the wake of that fire was already turning brown, providing more fuel for the next one. And the fire season had only just started. Their posting at the Tamworth RFS meant they had a lot of ground to protect, all of it ripe for a lightning strike or a discarded cigarette butt. As full-time RFS employees, Justin and Ben didn’t wait for the fires to start, they were always busy training new volunteers, cutting firebreaks and starting back burns; helping people secure their homes against the dangers ahead. There would be fewer late nights playing pool and drinking beer at the pub for the next couple of months.
Ben reached for his phone and started checking the weather forecast and fire alerts as they finished their meal in silence. A few minutes later, wearing identical RFS uniforms, they climbed into the front of Justin’s ute.
‘I’ll go via the pub and you can pick yours up,’ Justin said.
They had only gone a short distance when the phone resting in Justin’s centre console rang. As always when one was driving, the other brother answered.
‘Unknown number,’ said Ben. He tapped the screen. ‘Hello.’
There was no answer.
‘Hello. This is Justin’s phone.’
‘Ben?’ The woman’s voice was soft and sounded a little bit shaky.
‘Yes. This is Ben. Not many people can tell us apart by our voices. Who is this?’
There was a long moment of silence. Ben looked across at Justin, but his brother’s eyes were fixed on the road, his face neutral.
‘Again. Who is this?’
Ben was on the verge of ending the call when the caller finally spoke again.
‘I’ve always been able to tell you apart. Even from just the sound of your voice.’
Ben frowned. He looked at the phone and then back at his brother. As he did, he realised that he recognised the voice on the phone. Without hesitation, he ended the call and dropped the phone back into the console as if it was burning his hand.
‘You gave her your number?’
‘Who?’
‘Don’t play dumb with me, big brother. That was our mother on the phone. Are you saying you didn’t give her the number? When? Have you been seeing her without telling me?’
‘No. I didn’t give her my number. I did leave a card with the Wagtail Ridge vet. Maybe she got it from there.’
‘I can tell when you’re lying. You told the vet to give her your number. Didn’t you?’
Justin simply nodded.
‘Why? She was out of our lives. She never loved us. Not really. She was a bad mother and I, for one, don’t want to see her again.’
They had reached the pub car park. Justin pulled up next to Ben’s car. ‘Look, Ben. I think … Well, it’s been a long time. What is it … fifteen years? Maybe you should—’
