Afterwards, he had been hovering in the hall and debating whether he could simply leave, when Ilse had found him. They were alone, standing close, but not too close. An appropriate gap between them.
‘It’s good to see you again,’ she’d said.
‘You too.’ He’d both truly meant it and truly hadn’t at the same time.
‘You never came back to the pub.’
‘No.’ He’d rubbed a hand over his chin and had the sudden overwhelming urge to sit down and tell her everything. All the things that were weighing so heavy on his mind. How hard the last few months had been, how deeply he regretted what he’d done to Keith, how scared he felt about the future. How he’d missed seeing her. Then from somewhere outside, very faint, Cameron’s voice had floated into the hall. Nathan had taken a shallow breath. ‘I had a few things going on.’
‘So I heard.’ Ilse had waited. Then, when he didn’t say any more: ‘You look like you’ve been having a difficult time.’
‘I’m fine.’ His voice had cracked and he’d swallowed. ‘It’ll be fine.’ He’d looked down at her and known what he should say. The apology was already forming on his tongue when a door slammed somewhere along the hall and they’d both jumped. Ilse had taken a small step away, then another. The appropriate distance was now a little too far to speak easily.
‘I actually didn’t expect to see you here.’ She looked uncomfortable now.
‘Yeah, well, Cameron’s my brother.’
‘I know, but he said –’ She stopped. ‘Nathan, I didn’t know that when I met him.’ She held his gaze. ‘I’m sorry.’
He made himself look her straight in the eye, and shrugged. ‘Really doesn’t bother me.’
Her face had hardened, and her smile was a fraction late. ‘Good.’
Maybe Ilse hadn’t known they were brothers, Nathan thought, but Cameron obviously had. And fine, Ilse was a grown woman and it wasn’t like Nathan owned her after one roll around in the back of his car. And maybe he was dead wrong, but Cameron hadn’t even seemed that interested until Nathan had called up begging.
‘Please, Cam. There’s a girl. A nice one. Working behind the bar.’
‘Oh yeah. She’s all right.’
Sophie had been born ten months later and Cameron and Ilse had got married four months after that. Nathan hadn’t gone. Instead he’d driven eighteen hours to Brisbane. He’d turned up on Jacqui’s doorstep with his custody agreement in hand and they’d screamed at each other until someone called the cops.
Now, he watched as Ilse directed the girls to pick up their toys. She seemed distracted and he got the sense that she wanted to talk about something – Jenna Moore, he guessed – but couldn’t with her daughters in the room. Instead, he pointed at the wall planner and the crossed-out markings.
‘What’s all this? Was Cam going to change the mustering times next year?’
‘Oh.’ Ilse stood up and joined him in front of the calendar. ‘No. I mean, it was a thought.’
Nathan frowned as he deciphered the notes. ‘What would it involve? Move them here, and here?’
‘Yes, and same thing again, later.’
She took a thick diary from her desk and opened it so he could see.
‘Move the dates like this –’ She pointed and her hand brushed his arm. ‘Avoid the bottlenecks, and that contractor clash with Atherton that happens every year. I also thought if we coordinated with you – if you were interested, obviously – but then we’d get the scale benefits.’
Nathan frowned, flipping through the pages of her neat writing. ‘Yeah, maybe.’
‘You think it could work?’
‘I’d have to go through it properly. But it could be worth a try.’
‘It was Bub’s idea, actually. I just worked out the dates and the logistics.’
‘Bub thought of this?’ Nathan said, surprised.
‘I think he was getting fed up with the same issues year after year and wanted to try something else. He’s quite good at things like that. Cameron said it was because he was lazy, but if it makes things more efficient, who cares?’
Nathan could hear footsteps in the hall. The girls had gathered up the last toys. Lo appeared to be counting them carefully, checking each one, and Ilse frowned a little at the sight. The office door opened and they all looked up as Bub put his head in.
