Page 85 of The Lost Man


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‘But Steve said Uncle Cam was already dead by then, or nearly. So if his car wasn’t where we found it, then what? Someone moved it?’

Nathan didn’t say anything.

‘Who would do that? Jenna?’

Nathan still didn’t reply.

‘Someone else?’ Xander said. ‘One of us here on the property? Someone in this family?’

‘Come on, mate.’

‘Then what?’ Xander’s voice was rising.

‘Look, I don’t know,’ Nathan heard himself snap. ‘That’s why I want to check it out before jumping to conclusions.’

‘Don’t, Dad. It sounds –’ Xander looked at him. ‘Crazy.’

Nathan blinked now, seeing the track in front of him properly for the first time, and put his foot on the brake.

‘Shit.’

He was going the wrong way. He had started driving blindly towards the stockman’s grave rather than back to the road. He hadn’t even realised he was doing it, and a tiny part of him wondered if he should be worried about that. He listened to the engine tick over and tried to gather his thoughts. They felt loose and disconnected, as though floating through his fingers.

Duffy scratched the seat impatiently and Nathan put his foot on the accelerator. He was approaching a gentle crest where the land rose enough to hide the track ahead. He gunned the Land Cruiser up the mild slope, turning the wheel for a wide U-turn. From the peak, the grave would be visible somewhere below.

Instead, he saw a dust cloud.

Nathan stopped, the tip of the Land Cruiser at the peak of the crest. The small haze billowed along in the distance for half a minute before he caught the first glint of metal. He sat with his foot on the brake, watching the movement. It was coming along the dirt track and from the direction of travel, there was only one place it could be headed.

Nathan turned off his engine and heard the hum of the distant vehicle. He reached out and scrabbled in the glove box for his battered binoculars. Next to him, Duffy whined. Without the air conditioning, the car was getting warm.

He looked through the binoculars until he found the moving vehicle. He recognised it immediately. He had seen it parked around Cameron’s property for years. It was a general-use four-wheel drive, used mostly by casual workers and, most recently, by Simon.

The car slowed a few metres from the stockman’s grave, its windscreen reflecting nothing but sky. Nathan steadied the binoculars. The vehicle came to a stop, its angle now turning the windscreen dark rather than opaque.

Nathan watched, unblinking. There was a movement inside, as the driver reached for something in the passenger seat. From a distance, through the glass, Nathan could see a wrist and a sweep of long hair falling over a shoulder. It definitely wasn’t Simon behind the wheel. It was a woman.

Chapter 25

The driver’s door opened and a jean-clad leg stepped out. The woman was hidden by the open door and Nathan’s binoculars slipped a little, sending the scene out of focus. He steadied himself in time to see the door slam and in the red dirt beside the stockman’s grave stood a wholly familiar figure.

Ilse.

Nathan realised he was holding his breath and blew it out, long and heavy. The window of opportunity to announce himself came and went almost immediately. He didn’t beep the horn, or wind down the window and shout out. By the time he wondered whether he should, it was already too late.

Ilse stood with her back to him, looking small and isolated. A black shape lay at her feet. Some sort of bag, Nathan thought, hoping she wouldn’t suddenly turn around. He was a fair distance away, and his car was filthy, almost the same colour as the ground. He was parked nose-forward on the edge of the rise and the sun was working mostly in his favour. It would be at least partly in her eyes if she turned his way. If she looked directly at him, she would probably see the car, though. If not, the ground and the distance and the stillness might be enough of a cover.

Nathan lowered the binoculars, feeling uncomfortable. Below, he could just about make out the sight of Ilse kneeling and reaching for the bag. Duffy whined and he poured some water into a plastic cup and pushed it towards her. A bead of sweat ran down his temple and into his eye. The interior of the car was heating up fast without the air con. Nathan shifted again, his back damp against the seat. His hand hovered over the car keys. He couldn’t start the engine now. There was no way Ilse wouldn’t hear it. Nathan picked up the binoculars again.

Ilse took something from her bag, but at that angle Nathan couldn’t tell what. She was bending forward, close to the earth where her husband had been found, and was partly hidden by the headstone. Nathan breathed out a lungful of hot air, and tipped the last of his water bottle into Duffy’s cup. The rest of his water was packed out of reach in the back. The interior of car was stifling now. He let himself open the window a crack. It made no difference.

Glenn had told him a story a few years earlier, about James Buchanan from town who’d got into an argument with his wife. Worse than an argument, really, and as things escalated she’d managed to lock James out of the house. He’d knocked on the door, then, when she wouldn’t answer, gone around the outside of the family home and smashed the air conditioner with a cricket bat. Then he’d sat down and waited, bat in hand. His wife had been too scared to open the doors and windows, Glenn had said. Eventually she passed out from heat exhaustion. She had nearly died, there on her kitchen floor. Nathan thought Glenn had been trying to make him feel better.See? Other people do shitty things too.It had not made him feel better at the time – at all – and now as his skin stuck to the seat, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He glanced at Duffy and wound down the window some more.

He wondered how long Ilse was planning to stay. She must be feeling the temperature herself, down there. When he looked again, he thought he could see her shoulders moving. Was she crying? he wondered.

She knelt for another minute, while he sweated, and then finally, at long last, she stood up. Nathan breathed out. She ran her hand over the headstone, before picking up her bag from the ground. With a last look at the grave, she opened the car door.

Nathan wiped a hand over his face, freezing mid-motion as Ilse suddenly stopped. She was scanning the land, her head turning slowly. As her gaze reached Nathan’s direction, it seemed to settle. He held his breath. Down the binocular lenses, it was as though they were looking straight at each other.