Xander was still watching the shadows of Harry and Bub in the car in front. Nathan frowned to himself. He trusted Harry, he honestly did. With his life probably, if it ever came to it. Still, as Harry turned his head to say something to Bub, Nathan found himself replaying that minute before they’d reached Cameron’s car.
‘It’s interesting that Glenn could see Cam’s car from outside your boundary,’ Xander said suddenly. ‘It was pretty well hidden otherwise.’
‘Yeah. But you could say the same for lots of places. Cam could’ve dumped it in the middle of the road in broad daylight and there’d be a good chance no-one would find it for ages. How often does anyone come along there? Once a week? And then, it’s only us or the Atherton lot.’
‘I suppose,’ Xander said. ‘It’s just so flat around here, if I didn’t want my car seen, I’d leave it around the rocks, too.’ He looked out at the empty land. ‘It’s shit that no-one drove or flew by earlier. Even if Thursday was too late, Wednesday might not have been.’
Nathan didn’t reply, but Xander was right. If the car had been found sooner, the alarm would have been raised immediately and help called to hand. Nathan suddenly wondered – he tried to stop himself, but couldn’t – whether the same would be true for himself. If it were his car found abandoned and him in trouble or missing. Would the local passer-by call it in? Or would all those people who still turned their backs on him discover that, actually, when push came to shove, they were no better than he was? He honestly didn’t know.
It wasn’t Ilse’s fault, not even a little bit, but Nathan wouldn’t have even been in town that day if it hadn’t been for her. It had been his third weekend visit in a row to the pub. He’d stopped pretending to himself that he had business in town that made the trip worthwhile and had gone anyway.
On his second visit, they’d sat across from each other in the empty bar and he had found himself telling Ilse about his divorce and his son living fifteen hundred kilometres away. In turn, she had told him how she’d had to put her degree on hold and become a full-time carer when her mum’s cancer prognosis became terminal. She’d been engaged, but the daily grind of end-of-life care had proved a bit too much for him, and by the time her mum died, Ilse wasn’t engaged anymore.
They had had another drink and somehow, Nathan wasn’t sure how, they’d ended up smiling and finally laughing. Not about what had happened, but about other things, lighter things that made everything else seem more bearable. He couldn’t stop staring at her. He liked the way she looked and the way she looked at him. He told her about the sand dunes. She smiled and said she’d love to go with him one day.
On Nathan’s third visit, he’d stayed again until closing time and Ilse had reached out for his hand after he helped her lock up. The road had been deserted in both directions. She’d let him lead her away from the only streetlight so they could see the glorious night sky more clearly and he’d found himself, as hoped, in a dark corner pressing her hard against the side of his four-wheel drive, with her mouth warm against his. In a heady mix of delight and disbelief he’d thrown open the rear of his car where his sleeping bag was rolled out and waiting for him. Her skin was soft and hot as he’d reached under her shirt and felt her hands on his jeans. Then he’d held her tight and listened to her fast rhythmic breath as the stars shone down on them through the dusty windows.
Afterwards, he had lain there looking at her, the car doors open to let a breeze in and the sleeping bag kicked aside.
She had smiled, her teeth white in the dark. ‘What?’
‘Nothing. That was –’ He tried to think of the word. Exquisite, revitalising, transformative. ‘Great,’ he said. It had been the first time since Jacqui had left, but it was more than that. He felt better than he had in years. ‘Really great.’
‘Thanks.’ She’d laughed.
He ran a hand over her. ‘So, what now?’
She smiled again. ‘I’m pretty sure the backpackers’ handbook says this is the part where you disappear into the sunrise and I never hear from you again.’
It was his turn to laugh. ‘No way.’ He’d pulled her closer, feeling the spark of her skin on his as she rolled onto him. ‘That’s not what happens.’
She’d been right and he’d been wrong, as it turned out. But he’d really meant it, at the time.
‘Why are they stopping?’ Xander suddenly leaned forward in the passenger seat and Nathan was brought back to the present. Up ahead, Harry’s car was pulling to a halt by the fence. They were nowhere near the stockman’s grave yet. They were nowhere near anything that Nathan could see.
They watched as Harry jumped out, leaving the engine running. He crouched and checked the ground, touching his finger to the dust from time to time.
‘What’s going on?’ Xander said.
‘I don’t know.’ Nathan wound down his window and leaned out. ‘Harry! What are you doing?’
‘Looking!’
‘For what?’
‘Anything.’
The St Helens cop had said pretty much the same thing, but at least with Harry there was a chance it might actually mean something useful. Nathan wound his window back up and shrugged. ‘You heard him. Looking.’
Xander sat back and waited. Minutes ticked by and finally Harry got back into his car. They started moving again.
Ilse had left him just after dawn. The townsfolk may have been few and far between, but they were all early risers. She had kissed him as she buttoned her shirt.
‘I’ll drive you home,’ Nathan had said.
‘No need.’ She’d pointed to the accommodation block beside the pub. ‘That’s me.’
‘That close? We could have gone there.’
