The Lost Man(104)

Jenna Moore

Nathan read the letter three times, then refolded it. He handed it back to Liz.

‘What are you going to do with it?’ he said.

‘I’ll show it to Glenn, I suppose.’

‘It doesn’t excuse you, you know.’ Nathan’s voice was harsh even to his own ears. ‘That doesn’t make what you did any better.’

‘I know.’

‘I saw what Cameron looked like at the end, when Steve took him away in the ambulance. All the damage.’ Nathan saw Liz flinch at that but he went on. She needed to hear it. ‘He didn’t go easily. You should know that. He suffered a lot.’

She didn’t answer and he realised she was crying. He didn’t move. Finally, she took a breath. ‘I’m not asking you to forgive me –’

‘Good.’

Liz was still for a long time.

‘Nathan, I was eighteen when I left home,’ she said at last. ‘And when I did that, I promised myself things would be different.’

She had travelled north, she explained, and then west, going wherever she wanted and feeling free for the first time in her life. She had stopped in Balamara only when it became apparent she was running out of road before the desert. Within a couple of days, she’d found herself a job in the post office and was earning her own money for once. Work was enjoyable and the locals were friendly. They always had time for a smile and a chat and when Carl Bright had grinned at her over his mail and insisted on buying her a drink, she’d said yes.

‘And for a while, it was great. He was a lot of fun, believe it or not, and I thought he was so good-looking. And he was nice to me. And for a while my life really was different.’ Liz’s face darkened. ‘Then we got married and things started to change, and suddenly one day I realised my life wasn’t so different anymore. Your dad had told me he’d had a bad time himself when he was young and we both wanted something better. But it wasn’t better. It was the same as what I’d left behind. And I was so disappointed, Nathan, and I was just so tired. I’d come all this way only to end up in exactly the same place. I didn’t have the energy to fight it. What was the point?’

She shook her head.

‘But then I was pregnant, and I told myself that whatever went on between me and him, I wasn’t going to stand for it with you kids.’ Liz wiped her eyes. She couldn’t look at her son. ‘And I tried my best, Nathan. Please believe me. I made plans, I thought about it every day. But I was scared and I felt so alone and trapped. I’m so sorry. It wasn’t good enough, I know, not at all. But it was the best I could do.’

Liz was quiet for a long moment.

‘And then your dad had that accident. And I believe that saved my life. Bub’s too, possibly.’

Suddenly Nathan was back, years ago, on that hot dark night, looking through torn metal at the sight of Carl Bright pinned between the roof and the steering wheel. The nurse’s comment.

It hadn’t been quick.

Liz’s face had been frozen as she’d sat in the back of the ambulance with the blood congealing around her wound. It was the shock, Nathan had thought at the time. Maybe though, a dark thought unfurled now, maybe it was something else. He looked at the two graves at his feet for a long time. Old earth and new earth. Maybe, he thought, some lines were easier to cross the second time.

‘How long –?’ he started, then stopped. How long were you unconscious after the accident? How long did you leave it before you called for help?

He wanted to ask, but he didn’t, because he could tell from his mother’s face that she would tell him the truth.

Liz was watching him closely.

‘I’m sorry for a lot of things,’ she said, at last. ‘But I am not sorry he’s gone.’

Nathan didn’t ask who she meant. The gum tree rustled and Nathan felt the sand in the air and the grit on his skin. The screen door slammed in the distance and they both turned towards the house. Ilse was walking over, shielding her eyes.

‘Phone for you, Nathan,’ she called.

‘For me?’ His voice sounded strange. He cleared his throat.

‘It’s Glenn. He says you left a message with the police switchboard.’

‘Oh. Yeah.’

He still didn’t move. Then suddenly Liz reached up and pulled him to her. He could feel her hands, gentle on his back as she held him close, and smell the familiar scent of her hair. She had tears in her eyes.

‘I never meant for you to have to deal with this,’ she said quietly. ‘I did what I felt was right in my heart. But you’re a good man, Nathan. And you have to do what you think is right.’ She drew back and looked up at him. ‘Either way, you should come home.’

Liz held him a moment longer, then let him go and turned towards the house.

‘Bub’s got everyone playing cricket around the front if you want to join them,’ Ilse said and Liz gave her a sad smile as she passed.

‘Thanks, I think I will. Lunch will be ready soon.’

Ilse watched her walk away, then turned back to Nathan. She saw his face and frowned. ‘Is everything all right? Glenn’s waiting.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Are you sure?’

He turned his back on both graves, and immediately felt a bit better. ‘Yeah.’