“Sebastian is the best thing to ever happen to me. We’ve been together for six years now and I think I love him more and more with every year that passes. I know that sounds sappy.” He glanced at Howard, who just shrugged. “Sebastian sounds a bit like your Stan, I guess. He loves to live life to the fullest, whether it’s getting out there and doing things—exploring the coast or the forest, or entertaining friends, he always keeps active. Everyone loves having Seb around. Just like me, he loves to cook. He makes the best pasta. From scratch, mind you, with one of thosemachines, none of that store-bought stuff. It always amazes me how much we enjoy doing the same things. He’s like my best friend and my lover all rolled into one.”
“So why’s he out there on Bruny and you’re back here then? If ya don’t mind me asking.”
“Long story or short?” Owen echoed some of Howard’s words from earlier.
“We’ve got time.”
“About a year ago I fell. Stupid really. We were hiking and I slipped when we were navigating our way down a steep slope. It was hard compact earth, covered in bark and leaf litter. I went arse over tit and landed on my shoulder. It’s a rotator cuff injury.” Owen rubbed unconsciously at the site of impact. “I’ve been having treatment, physio and so on, plus taking mediation but it’s not making much progress. I hate the drugs, but I hate the sleeplessness more. I don’t get a full night’s sleep so I’m permanently tired. And in a bad mood.” Owen looked at Howard for his reaction but he said nothing. Owen continued. It felt good to get his feelings out. “Sebastian’s had a lot to deal with. I haven’t been able to do the things we used to do. It’s been months since we’ve kayaked together. I tried a few months after the accident, but the pain was unbearable.”
“And Sebastian resents that you can’t paddle with him?”
“What? No, of course not.” Even as Owen said the words, he wondered why hearing someone else say that felt so wrong, but he himself had been happy to think it for a while. “Sebastian’s been really supportive. He knows that kayaking isn’t the be all and end all. He’s just sick of me being unhappy.”
“So why are you so unhappy then? I get the pain but why the rest?”
Owen thought for a moment. He gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “I think I’ve been having a mid-life crisis.”
Now it was Howard’s turn to laugh. “How old are you then?”
“Forty-three. Nearly forty-four.”
Howard rolled his eyes. “You’re a spring chicken. I’d suggest you stop counting your eggs before they’ve hatched.”
“Sebastian’s only twenty-eight. He’s spent most of his adult life with me. It’s not fair that he has to deal with this.”
“Life isn’t fair, mate. It doesn’t always go exactly the way we think it should, but that doesn’t mean it’s a bad life.”
“I know. I just want so much more for him. I want him to love every minute. I don’t want to hold him back from anything.”
“It sounds like you should be telling him this. Let him know how you feel.”
“I know. And that’s what I was planning on doing before all this shit hit the fan.”
“You’ll get your chance, mate. You’ll get your chance.”
Owen stared out at the muddy water and hoped Howard was right.
Chapter Thirteen
Getting from the boatto the land had been like navigating a rubbish tip. The water was awash with everything from branches and leaf litter to what Owen could only assume were the remnants of people’s homes. Timber boards and broken furniture jostled for position in the dank water. There was even a half-submerged car shoved amongst the damaged boats that remained at the jetty. Howard had trouble mooring the boat, so Owen had eventually slipped over the side into the sea, holding his boots and pack over his head as the water rose to his chest, cold and dirty. What the fuck if Sebastian had been in this muck? It was no doubt full of sewerage and God knows what else. Owen had tried not to think of that as he waded to the shore and stumbled up on land. He turned and waved to Howard, unsure if the man could see him as he captained the boat, but hoping he understood that Owen was all right. He said a silent thank you to the man who’d brought him this far. Owen only stopped briefly, just long enough to wring out his clothes and stuff his feet back into his boots, before he stumbled up the road from the Alonnah waterfront, seeing a few peoplewandering about looking dazed. He finally came across a house with a sedan parked in the driveway.
He then proceeded to have the most amazing discussion with the owner after knocking randomly on the door. A woman answered the door, four kids milling about her legs. The children were all silent, unnaturally so given they all looked to be under ten. She’d hardly blinked when Owen had asked to use the car. Just handed over the keys and waved him on his way, mumbling something about her husband being out helping the neighbours but he’d be coming home soon with the other car.
So Owen found himself driving a strange car, given to him by a trusting and wonderful island resident, which enabled him to reach Adventure Bay and his own house in under fifteen minutes, despite a road that was littered with vegetation and sludge.
Owen sat in the sedan and stared at the small house for a moment as fear of what he’d find washed through him. He finally dragged himself from the car and approached the house, intentionally keeping his eyes fixated on the front door, not the devastation of the garden. He raised a hand to the door then paused, hovering, suddenly afraid to grip the door handle. After all the effort to get to the house, to get to Sebastian, he was nervous as to what he’d find inside. He shook his head to clear the dark thoughts—for the umpteenth time today, he reminded himself to keep positive and stop dwelling on how bad things could be. But jeez, it was difficult.
He finally turned the handle, pleased to see it wasn’t locked. The effort required to move the door surprised him and he gave it a bit more of a shove, putting the force of his body into it.
“Sebastian?”
His call was met with silence.
“Sebastian?” he tried again, his voice a bit louder this time.
No response.
He stepped inside the house, pausing briefly to let his eyes adjust to the gloom after the bright sunshine outside. He then stepped further into the room, looking down as his foot squelched.Squelched?What should have been polished floorboards looked like the banks of the creek that ran alongside their property. Muddy sand, a couple of inches thick and dotted with debris, covered the floor. The low bookcase that usually stood along the wall just inside the entrance, was pushed up against the back of the door. No wonder it had been so hard to open.
