‘All right. Does Bub know that, though? Or Ilse?’
‘Yeah, of course.’ Nathan frowned. Of course they knew, because it was the truth.
‘Well, that’s okay then.’ Xander opened another cupboard.
Nathan pulled a new box off a shelf. It seemed to hold nothing more than old electrical wiring. He stifled a yawn. He was getting tired now, but didn’t want to be the one to pull the pin. He sifted through it half-heartedly, looking at the black square of night outside the door. There was nothing to see, but Nathan knew he was facing south. Somewhere in the distance lay the stockman’s grave and beyond that, his own property.
His house would be empty, over the invisible horizon, but he could almost feel it sucking him in. It was actually a pretty decent house, with nice enough furniture. Jacqui hadn’t bothered taking a single thing other than Xander when she’d left. It was the land around the house that was the problem. It was a constant headache, but it was Nathan’s livelihood and he simply could not afford to let it slide, not even a bit. But sometimes, all the time really, he wished he had somewhere else to go. He hated that house. The place felt like a black hole that extinguished all the light in his life.
He had seriously considered abandoning the property, several times. Downing tools, leaving the door swinging open and driving away. Maybe try to get some work in the mines out west, but he worried he was getting a bit old for that now. And while Nathan could abandon the land, he couldn’t abandon the debts on it. They stayed on the bank’s balance sheets and would still need to be paid off somehow. Thank God that Liz and Harry had convinced him to keep his sixth of Burley Downs. After expenses, the income from that wasn’t enough to keep him afloat, but at least it was something.
‘Sell your place to Cam,’ Harry had said two Christmases ago, after a particularly bad year had left Nathan white-faced with stress. ‘You’re always going to struggle on your own. Let him buy you out, mate. Get the scale.’
Nathan had said he’d think about it. By that point, he had already privately asked his brother three times. Cam would dutifully pore over the spreadsheet Nathan had prepared, asking questions and stroking his chin as Nathan tried to find positive answers where none existed. Cam always responded in the same way, whether Nathan was asking him to look at a spreadsheet or begging him years earlier to put in a good word in town.
Cam would pause, for a fraction of a beat. Just as Nathan had done, once, under their dad’s hard stare when the tables were turned and it was a teenage Cameron who needed the help. It still surprised Nathan how much could be conveyed in such a thin slice of silence.
Cameron’s answer was always no.
Now, though, as Nathan looked out to the south, a new thought edged to the surface. Xander was right. And Bub, for that matter. Without Cam, things were different. Without Cam, Nathan realised, he could probably push the sale through, if he could get Ilse or Bub to agree. He let himself imagine for a moment what that might mean and suddenly, for the first time since he had driven over the crest and seen Cameron’s body under the tarp, Nathan could breathe a little more easily.
‘Dad.’
He dragged his attention back to the garage. Xander was holding something square and heavy-looking and partially covered by bubble wrap. A large paper bag lay discarded by his feet.
‘What’s that?’ Nathan dusted off his hands and walked over. He could see Cameron had written Ilse’s name on the bag in neat capital letters.
Xander moved into the light so Nathan could see what he was holding. It was one of Lo’s paintings, and it had been professionally framed. It showed a family of four, with Cameron fully recognisable alongside his wife and two daughters. Everyone in Lo’s picture was smiling, for once.
‘There’s a card as well.’ Xander held it out.
It was a small square with a picture of lilies on the front. Nathan could tell from Xander’s face that he’d already read what was inside. Nathan opened it and read the words in Cameron’s distinctive handwriting.
Forgive me.
Chapter 20
In the morning, Ilse was already gone.
Nathan had woken far later than usual, opening his eyes to find daylight creeping through the curtains in the living room. He and Xander had stayed up too long, the hurricane lamp burning in the garage as they sat and stared at Cameron’s words.
Forgive me.
Eventually, Nathan had taken the card and put it in his pocket.
‘You going to show it to Ilse?’ Xander had said.
‘Yeah. Tomorrow.’
But the house was quiet as Nathan dressed. From the window, he could make out the small shapes of Sophie and Lo playing some sort of game in the garden, while Liz watched. Even from that distance, Nathan could see the slump to her shoulders, and the exhausted curve of her spine. There was no sign of Ilse with them.
Neither was she in the kitchen, where Katy was cleaning up alone, or in her office. Nathan walked back down the hall and checked on Xander, who was still sleeping. Relaxed against the pillow, his face looked younger than it had the night before. Nathan closed the door. Across the hallway was the girls’ bedroom. It had been Cameron’s room when they were kids. Nathan stood, remembering all those bleary-eyed pre-dawn mornings when he had opened his door and come face to face with his brother. Since taking over the property, Cameron had slept in the master bedroom at the end of the hall. Cameron and Ilse, anyway. Liz had moved to the smaller bedroom along from the girls, where she’d said she was happier.
The door of the master bedroom was open, and Nathan wandered up and peered inside. The big items of furniture didn’t look like they had been replaced since the room had belonged to his mum and dad, but the space was unfamiliar beyond that. Someone, Ilse presumably, had painted the walls and added photos of the girls and a few other personal touches.
The room looked cared for but now felt – Nathan tried to put his finger on it – disturbed. The bed was made, but badly, and the deep dents in the pillows hinted at a poor night’s sleep. Old coffee cups left clusters of rings on the bedside table, on Ilse’s side, he guessed. A bottle of painkillers stood among them with its cap off. A few pills were scattered loose beside the cups.
Nathan glanced back at the girls’ room, then at the bottle on the table. He hesitated, then walked in, the floorboards creaking loudly under his boots. He gathered up the loose pills, tipped them into the bottle and clicked the safety cap on. He checked the label. It was only over-the-counter paracetamol, but there were a lot of tablets in the bottle. He stood there for a while, then returned the bottle to where he’d found it.
