Exiles (Aaron Falk #3)(67)

And there was a lot going on, he realized. Turning in his seat, Falk could see right across the festival grounds. All the way, from the main entrance to—he twisted in the other direction—the distant white flash of the first-aid station tent visible near the back exit. Beyond that lay bushland and the reservoir.

“I can see Mummy, and I can see Henry.” Eva pointed them out in turn, then thrust her arm through the bars and waved. On the ground, a handful of people waved back. “Daddy, look.” She tugged at Raco’s sleeve with her free hand. “You’re not even looking.”

“Sorry,” Raco said, with a cursory glance down.

Eva had been right, Falk saw, Raco hadn’t been looking at his family. Instead, he’d been doing exactly the same as Falk. Running his own gaze right across the wide, expansive view beneath them.

Falk didn’t need to ask why. A year earlier and a couple of dozen meters lower at ground level, Falk might not have been able to make out much at all. But from this height … his eyes met Raco’s over the top of Eva’s head. They were thinking the same thing, he could tell immediately.

Up here, from the vantage point of this bird’s-eye view, Kim would have been able to see everything that was going on below.





22


Falk left Raco and Rita once again battling with the kids’ car seats and walked back to the vineyard alone, thinking hard. He beat them this time, too, and was about to let himself into the guesthouse when he heard his name being called.

“Aaron. G’day. Do me a favor and come and try this, mate.” Charlie appeared in the doorway of the large barn. He had a bottle of red in his hand and was holding it up to the light, frowning slightly.

Falk walked over. The barn had been closed since he arrived, but he followed Charlie inside now to find a large, cool space with high ceilings and exposed beams. Wide shutters lay open to let in both the breeze and the glorious view of the vineyard stretching out beyond. The concrete floor looked recently swept, and the place smelled clean and fresh. Someone—Charlie, presumably—had started to set out trestle tables and chairs.

Falk could see another man rummaging in a storage cupboard across the room. Rohan, he realized, as the bloke straightened and stepped out, brushing dust from a barbecue gas canister. At the far end of the barn, Zara was sitting cross-legged in a patch of sunlight, blowing bubbles for Zoe. Naomi was there, too, a forgotten stack of silverware half organized on a table in front of her as she sat absorbed by the sight of the one-year-old stretching up her soft little arms to the bubbles floating in the air.

“Great space,” Falk said as Charlie handed him a glass with a splash of wine in it.

“Thanks. We hire it out for weddings sometimes. Getting it ready for tomorrow.”

“This is for the christening?”

“Yeah, well, afterward at least.” Charlie grinned and nodded at the wine in Falk’s hand. “Anyway, have a taste of that. Rohan?” He beckoned, holding up the bottle. “It’s last year’s grenache. Thinking about opening some for tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah? G’day.” Rohan nodded to Falk as he came over. He accepted a glass, examining the liquid before taking a sip. “I won’t have any more, I’m driving. But yeah, good. Tannins are nice and smooth.”

“I thought so, too.”

“Definitely. Come up well, mate.”

“What do you reckon?” Charlie turned to Falk, who took a swallow. He had never been a big drinker and, although he didn’t tend to admit it out loud, usually chose wine based on price and what fell at eye level on the shelf. He focused now on the inside of his mouth. The wine was … nice. Think of another word. Red came to mind. Charlie was watching for his reaction, genuinely interested, and Falk felt under pressure.

“It’s”—he took another sip—“fruity?” he tried.

“Really?” Charlie frowned at the bottle. “It’s supposed to be at the slightly lighter end.”

Falk smiled. “That’s probably what I meant, then.”

Charlie grinned at that. “All right. Just tell me this, do you like it?”

“Yeah,” Falk said honestly. “I do.”

“Great. That’s all I really need to know,” Charlie said, reaching for a fresh glass as Naomi wandered over. He poured a taste for her without needing to ask, and their hands brushed as she took it. Across the room, Falk saw Zara watching.

Naomi took a sip as she turned to Falk. “Hello, good to see you again.” Her voice was warm, and she stretched up and kissed him lightly on the cheek, then looked past him to the door. “Is Henry back, too?”

“On their way. Shouldn’t be long.”

“I hope so.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ll have to head off soon. Just wanted to see the little man himself ahead of tomorrow.”

Zara’s eyes slid from Naomi to her father and back again, then down to the tube of bubble mixture in her hand. Naomi drained her glass and placed it on a nearby trestle table.

“That’s a nice one, Charlie.”

“Thanks, I’m pretty happy with it. Good to get another opinion, though. Shane’s no help, now he’s completely off the booze.”

“Still?” Rohan seemed both surprised and impressed. “That’s great. Not at all?”