‘What do you think was worrying Cam?’ Nathan said eventually.
‘I don’t know. Like I said, we’ve had a good season. If it was something work-related, it’s news to me.’ Harry leaned heavily against railing. ‘I suppose he turned forty this year.’
‘Did that bother him?’
‘He never mentioned it, but it’s a milestone, isn’t it? Bothers some people.’
Nathan tried to think back to his own milestone birthday two years earlier. Other than a card from Xander and a phone call from Liz, it had passed as a completely unremarkable day.
Above him, the decorations fluttered, shedding dust to the wind.
‘Kerry McGrath killed himself around Christmas,’ Harry said.
‘I suppose.’
Although that was different, Nathan thought. Kerry had swallowed every pill in his Flying Doctor supply box after his wife left him. He’d opened the compartments you weren’t supposed to open without explicit instructions from the doc on the other end of the phone, and he’d taken everything from paracetamol to morphine in one go. It had been neither quick nor painless, apparently. At least that was what Steve Fitzgerald at the clinic had told everyone, probably as a deterrent as much as anything, Nathan suspected. He remembered hearing about Kerry. Nathan’s own box was now at the back of a high cupboard, out of sight.
He cleared his throat. ‘There was Bryan Taylor. He wandered off.’
Harry made a noise. ‘He wandered from the pub to his car and drowned drunk in the river. Speaking of, you all set for supplies down at your place?’
‘Yeah. Mostly.’
‘Well, make sure you are. I reckon the water’s coming.’
‘Again?’
‘I think so. There’ll be rain up north, I reckon.’
Nathan nodded. When Harry made a prediction, it was worth paying attention.
‘There was also your dad,’ Harry said out of nowhere and Nathan looked over in surprise. ‘That was around this time of year.’
‘February. And he didn’t kill himself.’
‘I know.’ Harry was thoughtful. ‘Just wondered if something might have been going through Cameron’s head. Out there on his own. Maybe it triggered something.’
‘Dad wasn’t on his own when he died.’
‘No. I know that, I meant –’
‘What?’
‘Nothing. Sometimes people do strange things.’
They were cut off by the squeal of the screen door. Xander looked out. ‘Grandma says dinner’s ready.’
‘Thanks, mate,’ Harry said as Xander disappeared back inside. ‘You coming?’
‘In a sec. You go.’
Nathan waited until he heard the door slam and he was alone. He walked down the wooden steps and across the springy green lawn, a tangy citrus scent coming from the trees. From the direction of the big shed, he could hear the hum of the generator, turning itself over to keep the property lights burning. He reached the fence designed to keep curious cattle off the lush lawn, and without quite knowing why, climbed over it and stood on the other side.
Nathan looked out. The sun seemed to be dropping fast in the west. In another hour the horizon would disappear into something even more endless. He heard a distant wistful howl. It was early in the evening for dingoes, but there was nothing else it could be. Nathan took a couple of steps through the dust, away from the fence and the house and its cultivated greenery. He stared out. It was vast, like looking down from the edge of a cliff, and he felt a rare hint of vertigo.
At night, when the sky felt even bigger, he could almost imagine it was a million years ago and he was walking on the bottom of the sea. A million years ago when a million natural events still needed to occur, one after the other, to form this land as it lay in front of him now. A place where rivers flooded without rain and seashells fossilised a thousand miles from water and men who left their cars found themselves walking to their deaths.
Sometimes, the space almost seemed to call to Nathan. Like a faint heartbeat, insistent and persuasive. He listened now, and took an experimental step, then another. Behind him, he heard the squeal of the screen door. Xander calling out.
