The Shadow House(93)

Leaning forward, he took her hand. Everything’s alright. They’ll be here soon. All you have to do is hang on.

I missed you, Gabe. Oh, I missed you so much.

She reached for him and the lantern shone brighter … but then Gabriel began to fade. His fingers started to slip from her grasp.

No, she said, clinging to him. Don’t leave me.

He shook his head. I’m right here.

And even though Renee was broken in ways she’d never imagined possible, her son’s smile sent a strange flood of feeling through her body, a warm peaceful glow that filled every last part of her and made her feel as if everything might really be alright. She would never stop loving him. She would never not miss him. But finally – finally – she could stop looking for him.

As the glow from the lantern became blinding, a snarl of emotions unspooled inside her, releasing a flurry of images. She saw death as a dragon-shaped nightlight, a torch in a tent. Birthday candles reflected in a tiny pair of eyes. A rainbow found in the fine spray of a garden hose.

Everything’s alright.

Life, on the other hand, was a painful flash of ultraviolet, a huge ball of flame, and cirrus clouds hanging in a silver sky.

Just hang on.

Life was faraway beams of gold pushing through bright green leaves, warming the ground, making magic.

I’m right here.

Some things, she realised as the brightness consumed her, would never end. But perhaps others – cautiously, tentatively – would begin.

At last, Renee felt ready. She let go, and moved towards her own light.





EPILOGUE


SIX WEEKS LATER


The hall was full. Every seat had been taken, and all eyes were on me.

Public speaking had never been high on my list of favourite things; it made my palms sweat and my legs shake. But, after weeks of careful planning, I had somehow managed to deliver the best part of a solo presentation to a packed room without passing out or throwing up or saying anything too stupid, which felt like a very special kind of progress. Almost there, I told myself. A couple more minutes and it’ll all be over.

Adjusting my grip on the microphone, I took a shaky breath and glanced down at my notes. ‘So to summarise, the main objectives will be to maximise the capacity of working parents, ensure the safety of the kids and help facilitate their learning and development. The construction and business plans, including cost breakdown, are all laid out as explained in the proposal pack and, um …’ I double-checked the whiteboard to make sure I’d covered everything. ‘That’s it. I think I’m done.’

Beside me, Kit rose from his chair. ‘Thank you, Alex. And well done, that was really fantastic. Now, if—’

‘Actually, sorry, just one last thing.’ Folding my notes and tucking them under my arm, I looked out at the circle of expectant faces. The view was much less intimidating now that Maggie had moved on. Kit had initially tried to talk her into staying but she’d insisted the village had become too crowded. She’d apparently found another one on the Sunshine Coast, one that aligned more with her ‘spiritual priorities’. Kit had since admitted that it was probably for the best.

‘Look, I know we have a lot of projects on the go here and a lot of big decisions to make, but I really believe we could do something amazing here. We’d not only be making life easier for our families, but it would also strengthen us as a community and bring in extra income from the wider area. And as a qualified childcare practitioner, I promise I will do absolutely everything I can to make sure this facility succeeds. Because’ – I looked across the circle to where Layla was grinning encouragingly and giving me a massive thumbs-up – ‘it really does take a village. Okay, now I’m done.’ I handed the mic to Kit and sat down.

Grinning, Kit took my place at the front of the room. ‘Alright, let’s put it to the group. Does anyone have any objections to the Pine Ridge day care centre?’

My heart pushed its way up into my throat.

‘Any questions?’

I closed my eyes, unable to look.

‘All those in favour?’

There was a rustle of movement. I held my breath.

Kit laughed. ‘It’s okay, Alex, you can look now.’

I opened my eyes. Every single person in the room had raised their arm, and every palm was open. A unanimous yes.


‘Congratulations,’ said Kit, looping an arm around my shoulders as we strolled home along the dam. ‘You did brilliantly.’

‘I can’t believe it,’ I said for the eleventh time. ‘I didn’t expect everyone to say yes.’

‘Well, I never had a doubt.’

‘Not even when I had that massive meltdown and said I couldn’t do it?’

‘Not even then. You’re incredible, Alex. You don’t give yourself enough credit.’

Above us, the blistering summer sun beat down as the wind whipped the blue gums into a hissing frenzy. The air felt heavy with humidity but the land was dry for lack of rain, and while the evergreens were hanging on to their leaves, the grassy hills were bleached to a dull matchstick yellow. It wasn’t hard to imagine the whole lot going up in smoke (living in the middle of an Australian forest, as it turned out, brought with it a whole new set of concerns once bushfire season rolled around), but our action plans were in place and our evacuation drill well practised, so all we could do was hope we never had to use them.