Nathan pictured the large study where the desk-bound work that kept the property ticking over took place. It was a seven-day-a-week operation: ordering supplies, booking contractors, checking the payroll and supplier invoices. It had been Liz’s job when Nathan was younger; now it fell to Ilse.
‘Bub and Harry both said Cam had seemed under a bit of pressure lately,’ he said.
‘What? Just lately?’ Ilse sounded annoyed.
‘Longer than that?’
‘You know what it’s like running this place.Theyknow what it’s like. There was always pressure on him, even when it’s doing well.’ She snatched a pillowcase from the line, folding it badly into a crumpled square. She took a breath and flapped it out, folding it more carefully this time. ‘I think there was something wrong, though. Harry’s right. Cam was stressed, and he was in a bad mood a lot of the time. And he was distracted, which wasn’t like him. I hoped it would pass, but it had been at least six weeks, maybe longer. It was getting worse, if anything.’
‘Did you ask him why?’
‘Of course I did.’ She was instantly defensive. ‘And he told me he was fine. There’s always something that needs attention around here. Just because Cameron was working hard, that didn’t mean –’
She stopped as they both sensed movement across the yard and turned to look. The light was fading now as they watched Bub walking near the furthest corner of the fence, where the land rose higher. He stopped and looked down at a patch of earth. Even from that distance, Nathan knew where he was standing. Bub didn’t look towards the washing line, and Nathan wasn’t sure if he had seen them amid the sheets.
‘What’s he doing over there?’ Ilse frowned.
‘God knows.’
Bub was standing at the foot of their dad’s grave and, overhead, Nathan could see the shape of the eucalyptus tree he had planted with his brothers after the funeral twenty years earlier. It had been a hot day and hard work, but it had been Liz’s idea so they’d done it, digging a hole at the head of the plot. The tree was a decent size now and its branches swayed, black against the sky.
To the left of Carl Bright’s grave was the ground earmarked for the rest of the family when their respective times came. The plot directly next to his dad’s would probably have been Liz’s under normal circumstances but now, Nathan realised with a jolt, it would be Cameron’s.
‘I need to get back inside.’ Ilse straightened suddenly. From her expression, he suspected she’d been thinking the same thing as him. ‘I want to check on the girls before the generator goes off.’
The generator was switched off each night to save fuel and money, cutting the electricity and plunging the property into a complete blackout overnight. Nathan was used to it. He had started switching off his own for longer and longer these days, lying alone in the seamless dark from sunset to sunrise.
‘Go.’ Nathan nodded at the washing line. ‘I’ll bring these in.’
‘Thank you.’ She seemed about to say something more, then changed her mind. A sheet blew in front of Nathan, hiding her from sight as she walked away, and he pushed it aside in time to see her disappear into the house. He turned back to the washing line. The white linen was a dull red-grey in the deepening gloom.
Across the yard, Bub was still standing by the grave plots, only his back visible. Nathan reached up for the next sheet, then stopped as Bub took a final swig from the can in his hand, placed it on the ground and dropped a hand to his fly. A second later came the unmistakeable sound of a long stream of urine cascading onto the ground. Nathan stood completely still. The noise ran on, steady before at last trickling away to nothing. Finished, apparently, Bub zipped up and sauntered towards the house without glancing in Nathan’s direction. A faint note in the air suggested he was whistling.
Nathan didn’t move until he was gone. The family plot was shadowy as he walked over, taking care where he put his feet in the growing dark. He looked at the ground where his dad was buried and where Cameron soon would be, then crouched and touched the soil with his fingertips. It was already dry. The thirsty earth had drunk in the moisture. It was impossible to tell which plot Bub had pissed on.
Chapter 9
It was still early but Nathan could see the two little girls already out in the horse exercise yard. Cameron’s daughters. He watched them for a minute before climbing into the passenger seat of Harry’s four-wheel drive.
Liz had lost the will or energy to protest, so Bub and Xander had both insisted on coming to meet the town’s sergeant out at Cameron’s car. No-one said it, but Nathan suspected everyone secretly hoped that Glenn McKenna would have a proper look and be able to tell them exactly what was what.
Bub didn’t speak to any of them as he climbed into the back seat next to Xander. Nathan had still been able to detect the faint whiff of urine when he’d left the graves the night before, but back at the house he’d found Bub already in his bedroom with the door shut. Nathan had been debating whether to knock when he’d heard Harry shout out the nightly warning call. The generator was going off. Nathan had lowered his hand. This was not a conversation to have in faceless pitch black. Instead, as the generator fell still and the property was plunged into darkness, he had lain on the couch rehearsing what he would say. By morning, though, he woke to find that his ideas had evaporated and what he’d thought he’d seen suddenly seemed a lot less clear.
Harry started the engine and set off down the driveway. As they passed the exercise yard, Nathan signalled.
‘Pull over for a minute, Harry.’
The eight-year-old, Sophie, was in the middle of the yard, guiding a horse in a circle on a long lead with one hand. Her other arm was in a sling. Lo, now five, was sitting by the fence, her head down as she drew something on a pad of paper. They were bigger than Nathan remembered, but then again, it had been a year. Nathan could see Ilse watching her daughters from the verandah. Cameron’s dog, Duffy, sat listlessly at her feet.
‘Hi, girls.’ Nathan leaned out of the window and waved to his nieces as Harry came to a stop. ‘I didn’t get a chance to say hello last night. How are you going? And you remember Xander, don’t you?’
Sophie tied up her horse and the girls took their time walking over. Lo in particular looked at Nathan like he was a stranger.
‘Come on, say g’day to your uncle,’ Harry prompted when they stood unsmiling.
‘Hi, Uncle Nathan,’ Sophie intoned. Lo, half a step behind her, didn’t say anything. They looked a lot like Cam, especially around the eyes, Nathan thought. Their matching dirty-blonde hair would probably go dark as they got older. Xander’s had been the same.
Nathan looked at Sophie’s sling. It was made from colourful fabric with ponies printed on it. ‘What happened to you?’
