‘I just –’ He stopped. ‘It felt like it was time.’
It was true, he realised. It was hard work staying angry for ten years. Jacqui sounded tired too. They spoke for a bit longer. It was awkward and rusty, but it was like an old piece of machinery. He could imagine it being functional once again. She sent her condolences about Cameron. Nathan gritted his teeth and asked politely after Martin. He was doing very well, apparently, his star continuing its ascendance in the field of metal-centric architecture. Nathan’s gaze wandered as Jacqui made awkward small talk about some renovation work they were planning for Xander’s bedroom. His eyes landed on the key rack above the family log book. Cameron’s car keys hung from their lanyard, exactly where Nathan had put them himself a couple of days earlier.
It was the silence on the other end of the phone that told him he’d missed something. ‘Sorry, what was that?’
A small sigh of disappointment. That brought back a few memories, but he pushed them aside. ‘I was saying thanks for understanding about Xander’s exams and him needing to be at home more.’ Jacqui paused. ‘I know you miss him.’
‘Yeah.’
‘He misses you too.’
‘Does he?’
‘Of course. You’re his dad.’
Nathan felt a flicker of warmth between them and for a moment he could remember what he’d once loved about that golden-haired girl on the other side of the fence.
‘Seeing Xander’s the best part of my year. He’s really great, you should be proud.’
‘Well. As should you, Nathan.’
Nathan heard movement and saw their son in the hallway. He waved him over. ‘He’s here now. I’ll put him on. Happy Christmas, Jacqui.’
Xander took the phone, mouth agape in a way that made Nathan feel both a bit better and a bit guilty. He should have tried to do this years ago.
As he turned away, his eye caught once more on the key rack and he reached out and unhooked Cameron’s keys. He wandered down the hall, running the lanyard through his fingers. It still had a little red dust on it, and he couldn’t help picturing it, dumped on the front seat of Cam’s car on that terrible day when they’d found him.Not dumped, a small voice whispered in his head. Neatly coiled, in a way he had never seen from his brother.
Nathan’s thoughts were scattered by shrieks as Sophie and Lo careered out of the living room and ran past him. Ilse followed with a smile and a rubbish bag full of torn wrapping paper. Nathan slipped the keys into his pocket and smiled back. Liz came out, looking better than she had the day before, Nathan was relieved to see. She headed towards the kitchen and squeezed his arm as she passed. She seemed to have forgiven him at least.
‘I’d better get lunch on. I’ve given the backpackers the day off, so feel free to help.’ She turned and called out: ‘Sophie!’
‘Yeah?’ a voice shouted back.
‘Can you please run out and tell Simon and Katy that lunch is at twelve?’
‘Okay.’ More pounding of feet. Sophie appeared and drew to a brief halt. ‘Can I whip the cream for the pav?’
‘No! I want to!’ Lo shouted.
‘You both can.’ Liz rolled her eyes. ‘We’re not there yet, anyway.’
She headed into the kitchen as Sophie ran outside. There was a silence, then the verandah boards rumbled again. Sophie reappeared at the door, and Nathan could see by her face that something was wrong.
‘It’s gone.’ She sounded confused.
Harry appeared at Nathan’s shoulder. ‘What has?’ he said.
‘The backpackers’ car.’
‘They’ve gone?’
‘The caravan’s still there. But their car is gone!’
Harry frowned and Nathan followed him outside.
Sure enough, the backpackers’ battered car – their own private vehicle that they’d driven into town – was no longer there. It had been parked last night, and every night before, right next to the caravan. Now there was just an empty patch of ground in its place. Sophie ran up to it and spread her arms wide.
‘See?’ she shouted. ‘I told you.’
