‘I made a mistake,’ Liz said. ‘I’d hidden it off the track near home. But I realised that night that it was too far away. He couldn’t have walked that distance. When they found the car, they’d know someone else had been there.’
‘So you moved it?’
She nodded. ‘Next day. I rode out early, led the horse on the reins again and drove to the rocks. I thought that was possible, for someone like Cameron. About ten kilometres.’
‘It’s nine, actually.’
Liz didn’t argue. ‘I just didn’t want it to be seen too quickly.’
Nathan said nothing for a while. He didn’t want to think about it.
‘I didn’t know what to do with Ilse’s documents,’ Liz said. ‘I wanted to give them back to her, but I couldn’t think how. The girls are always in and out of everywhere – my bedroom, the stables. Then Xander started pulling things apart in the sheds as well.’ She shook her head. ‘But everyone knows not to touch that bloody painting.’
Nathan stared out across the property. At Cameron’s car parked on the driveway and at the house where they’d grown up.
‘The way Cam died never felt right,’ he said. ‘I really thought for a while that Jenna Moore had something to do with it.’ He was quiet. The sun was approaching its peak in the sky, the horizon was a flat line in the distance. ‘I wonder what she wanted with him.’
When Liz didn’t respond, he looked over.
‘What?’
Liz hesitated, then reached into her pocket.
‘Caroline from the post office brought our mail with her yesterday. She thought we might not get into town to collect it for a while.’
She handed something to Nathan and he turned the slightly rumpled letter over in his fingers. Cameron Bright’s name had been written on the front of the envelope. There was no return address, but in the top right-hand corner was a stamp from the UK. It had already been torn open and Nathan pulled out the contents. The letter was folded into thirds and felt slightly worn at the creases, like it had been opened and read several times. He took a breath and looked at the words.
Cameron, it started. Nathan did not recognise the handwriting, but it was neat and firm.Please read this letter to the end. I am aware that you may not even remember me, Cameron, but I need to tell you one thing:
I forgive you.
You may not want my forgiveness, or feel like you have done anything that needs to be forgiven. I truly hope, however, that is not the case. Regardless of what you might tell yourself, or what threats your father made on your behalf when he had me cornered and alone, you and I know what happened the night we met. You know what you did, and I do too.
I used to hope that you would be living your life with the same sense of regret and shame that I have for years. That is no longer important to me.
I have wasted years feeling guilty about something that wasn’t my fault, and I have given you a power over me that you do not deserve. With the support of my therapist and the love of my beautiful family, I am proud to say that this is no longer the case.
In so many ways, I have built a happy life. I wish the same for you, Cameron. Those in great pain cause others great pain, and I hope, for your sake and for those around you, that you have found some peace.
Jenna Moore
Nathan read the letter three times, then refolded it. He handed it back to Liz.
‘What are you going to do with it?’ he said.
‘I’ll show it to Glenn, I suppose.’
‘It doesn’t excuse you, you know.’ Nathan’s voice was harsh even to his own ears. ‘That doesn’t make what you did any better.’
‘I know.’
‘I saw what Cameron looked like at the end, when Steve took him away in the ambulance. All the damage.’ Nathan saw Liz flinch at that but he went on. She needed to hear it. ‘He didn’t go easily. You should know that. He suffered a lot.’
She didn’t answer and he realised she was crying. He didn’t move. Finally, she took a breath. ‘I’m not asking you to forgive me –’
‘Good.’
Liz was still for a long time.
