On the verandah now, sitting opposite Sophie, Nathan’s fingers stopped moving on the strings. He didn’t feel like playing anymore. Sophie didn’t notice straight away. She was glancing back at the house, towards her sister’s darkened bedroom window.
‘Any idea what Lo was talking about at dinner?’ Nathan said.
‘No.’ Sophie picked at her sling. ‘She probably doesn’t know herself. She has trouble with make-believe stuff.’
‘She seemed scared,’ Nathan said.
‘She is. She thinks someone’s coming to get her.’
‘Someone imaginary? Like the stockman? Or does she actually believe someone’s out there?’
‘I don’t know. I’ve told her that she doesn’t have to worry. She still does, though.’
‘It must be hard for you two, after what’s happened with your dad.’
Sophie nodded but said nothing.
‘Did your dad ever mention the stockman’s grave to you?’ Nathan said. ‘Talk about it being somewhere special to him?’
‘I don’t think so. There was his picture, I suppose. But I never knew why he painted it, he thought the stockman was stupid. And he was.’
‘Oh yeah?’
‘He shot himself by mistake. Climbing through a fence and not paying attention. His foot slipped and he accidentally blew his own head off with his gun.’
‘Who told you that?
‘Daddy.’
‘Right.’ It wasn’t true, but Nathan thought now wasn’t the time to correct her. Her memories of her dad would be confused enough, without him pulling minor ones apart.
Sophie sighed and looked at the guitar. ‘Can you play something else?’
‘Happy to take requests.’
She named a song he didn’t know by a band he’d never heard of, so she hummed it and he managed to pick it up. By the end, she was smiling a little, mostly at his mistakes.
‘I’m going to practise when my arm’s better,’ she said. ‘While there’s no school.’
She meant School of the Air, Nathan knew. He had gone through all that himself, mucking around while he was supposed to be listening in to some faraway teacher crackling on the radio. Much of the teaching burden fell to whoever was supervising at home though and he remembered poor Liz trying her best and pleading with him to concentrate the way Cameron did. It was all done online now, mirroring the term times and lesson structures of a physical school as closely as possible. The teachers could at least video chat with students for a couple of contact hours a day, which had to be better than the radio, he guessed. He thought of something and frowned. ‘So Katy supervises your home learning?’
‘Yeah. It used to be Mummy, but now Katy does it. She’s supposed to look after us during the day when we’re on holiday.’
He saw her face. ‘No good?’
‘It’s boring. She doesn’t have any fun ideas. The day Daddy went missing she just made us sit in the classroom and watch movies the whole time.’
‘Was she with you?’
‘Yeah, she was there, but she didn’t do anything. She kept going on breaks and she’s always kind of moody.’
‘Is she any better at supervising the school stuff?’
Sophie wrinkled her nose. ‘Not really. She doesn’t know what we’re supposed to be doing and she doesn’t always make sure we keep up. I heard Mum tell Daddy he shouldn’t have hired her, that she’s –’ she lowered her voice to a whisper and looked left and right, ‘– crap.’
Nathan suppressed a smile. ‘That’s what your mum said?’
‘That’s one of the things. But I think Mummy’s right, she is . . . crap.’ Sophie leaned in. ‘I don’t think she’s even really a teacher.’
