Nathan glanced now over at Xander, who was watching Bub and Harry standing over the stockman’s grave. Bub had his back to them as Harry crouched by the headstone, examining what little remained of the small hole at its base. He stayed there for a long time, then finally stood and surveyed the land in every direction. Nathan didn’t bother turning his own head. He knew what was out there. Nothing, for miles and miles.
Keith had been having a stroke. He had nearly died.Nearly. But not quite, and no thanks at all to Nathan. Even knocking at death’s door as he was stretchered into the ambulance, Keith had summoned the energy to drag his oxygen mask from his mouth and tell his rescuers how Nathan had driven past.Leaving him for dead.
Keith had, in fact, been discovered within fifteen minutes by a delivery driver. He was bloody lucky, everyone said. Chance in a thousand that anyone came along at all. The story had whipped through the district like a dust storm. The disgust and distrust were palpable. Leaving someone stranded out there was not a matter of manners, it was life and death in the most literal sense. Nathan had single-handedly managed to do the unthinkable and unite the entire town – white, Indigenous, old, young, long-standing rivals, firm friends. Thirty-year grudges were set aside for as long as it took to discuss Nathan’s transgression.
On this issue alone, the entire community of Balamara was unwavering. Leaving a fellow man to the mercy of the elements was almost unimaginable and absolutely unforgivable. And if Nathan Bright, outback born and bred, didn’t understand that, then the life in that far-flung community was not for him.
Nathan had apologised, sincerely and at length. As had Harry and Liz, on his behalf and, after a beat, Cameron as well. Jacqui had picked up the phone long enough to scream down the line at him from Brisbane, then hung up and called her lawyers. At least she spoke to him, Nathan later thought. She was one of the few who did.
The community punishment was swift. There had been an excruciating town meeting where Nathan had stood up in front of sixty pairs of accusing eyes and read from a prepared apology. He’d been nervous and it had come across as awkward and hollow, even to him. He tried to explain about the custody battle and the pressure he’d been under. It was no excuse. You could be on fire and half-dead yourself and you would still be expected to stop and help. There wasn’t a reason in the world that could justify what he had done. If it proved anything, it was that Jacqui’s custody concerns were valid. Her lawyers later got a transcript of what Nathan had said and used it against him.
Jacqui herself had taken the trouble to compose an email – to this day Nathan had some very strong feelings about that – which her mother read out loud to the community meeting in a quivering voice, detailing the toll Nathan’s actions had taken on the family. That had been exceptionally well received. Nathan had caught even Bub nodding sympathetically in places.
There had been some heated murmurs that Sergeant McKenna should charge Nathan with attempted manslaughter, which thankfully came to nothing. So instead, the townsfolk turned their backs and closed ranks. Like a cancerous growth, Nathan was excised and the community healed without him.
He was banned instantly from every public facility in town. The service station and the post office eventually had to agree to serve him, after Glenn ordered them to, but transactions were completed without eye contact. Pretty soon, words were whispered into the ears of Nathan’s casual staff and they handed in their notices, one by one. He was forced to offer higher wages for lower skills and still couldn’t find replacements. He wasn’t able to handle all his cattle on his own and had to cut back. His usual mustering contractors refused to take his calls, finally admitting they’d been threatened with boycotts if they did business with him. Not that they would anyway. What kind of scumbag leaves a man for dead? He was forced to go further afield, and pay a lot more for a lot less.
One morning, a few months after it happened, Nathan had woken up to a strange stillness on his property. He had lain there, anxious and unsettled, as it dawned on him. He was entirely alone. No staff. Nothing but static on the radio. Nathan stared at the ceiling. There was not a single other person near him for hours in every direction. He had been cast fully and completely adrift.
Xander was avoiding looking at the grave by rifling through the contents of Cameron’s glove box. Both cops had had a look, but Nathan hadn’t opened it up himself. It appeared well organised and practical. Much like the whole of the property under Cam’s dynamic leadership, he thought with a hint of bitterness.
‘Anything interesting in there?’
‘Not really.’ Xander shook his head. ‘But it looks like he was planning to go to the repeater at some point. He’s got a repair guide here.’
‘Really?’ Nathan reached out and took it. He turned it over in his hand. ‘Maybe just for show? So no-one would realise he was planning to come here instead?’
‘Maybe,’ Xander said. ‘But there’s a lot of info here. He’s printed out instructions and marked off all the equipment he’s packed.’
Nathan frowned. ‘I suppose he could have changed his mind on the way?’
Xander said nothing and shrugged, his eyes forward now and fixed on Harry and Bub.
Nathan had tried to call Ilse. He’d left it too long out of fear of what she might have heard, and at a loss himself as to what to say.Don’t believe the worst, perhaps. But why shouldn’t she? It was true.
He’d even looked for her at that terrible town meeting, and felt both giddy with relief and strangely disappointed when she wasn’t there. By the time he’d finally worked up the guts to phone the pub during her usual weekend shift, weeks had gone by. The manager had answered. He’d recognised Nathan’s voice and told him if he saw or heard from him again, it wouldn’t be the police he’d be calling to help solve the problem, if Nathan got his drift.
Nathan had, but still found himself driving towards town the next weekend and the one after that. He had tried to work out which door of the staff accommodation belonged to Ilse and slipped a note underneath. He didn’t know if she’d ever got it. If she had, he never heard. He found himself parking in the shadows off the road and watching the lights of the pub from a safe distance. Unable to go in, but unable to stay away.
He’d continued to do that for a while in the following years, maybe once every six months. Just to hear the sound of voices other than his own inside his head. He would park in a dark corner, listening to the muffled chatter and occasional music floating from the pub. He didn’t do it anymore. Nearly a decade on, he wasn’t sure who would be inside these days, and whether any of the faces would recognise him. They’d remember his name though, he suspected. The story seemed to have been handed down from ear to ear. He had become nothing more than a warning.
One evening, not long after it happened, he’d seen Cameron and Bub come out of the pub, laughing and shaking hands with a few of the same blokes who now looked straight through Nathan. Nathan had kept his distance from his brothers as much as he could since it had all blown up. They hadn’t spelled it out, but he knew what he’d done had stained them too. He kept away so they didn’t have to ask him to.
He’d watched them outside the pub and his initial flash of betrayal had slowly morphed into something more cautiously optimistic. But the call he’d been hoping for from Cam – ‘Come down, mate, I’ve straightened things out. I’ve explained. They know you’re sorry.’ – had never come. A week later, Nathan had driven in again, and this time seen what he realised he’d been waiting for.
Ilse had been illuminated by the single streetlight as she finished her shift. He’d had his hand on the door and a garbled apology ready, when the manager and two stockhands had followed her out, chatting among themselves as she locked up. They’d lingered in the street after she’d finished and Nathan had had to watch her walk away, the regret sour and sharp inside him. After that, he had swallowed his pride and asked Cameron straight out to put in a good word at the pub.
‘Mate, I’m hardly ever in there myself,’ Cam had said. It had sounded like he was frowning. ‘I only go so Bub has someone to talk to.’
‘Please, Cam. Ask if I can come back. There’s a girl. A nice one. Working behind the bar.’ He was speaking a language his brother would understand.
Cameron had laughed. ‘Oh yeah, I’ve seen her. She’s all right.’
‘Yeah, listen, so you’ll ask them? See if they’ll let me back?’ Nathan had held his breath until the answer came.
‘Mate, I’m sorry. It’s too soon. There’s nothing I can do, they don’t want you there.’
Nathan had hung up. He hadn’t spoken to his brother again for three months.
