The Lost Man(14)

The jackaroo reduced his speed a touch as he drew level with Bub, raising his hand in a wave. The greeting froze mid-air when he clocked Nathan driving behind. Nathan couldn’t make out the man’s eyes behind the windscreen but he could see the swivel of his wrist. Firmly and deliberately, the wave turned into the finger.

It was nothing less than Nathan had expected from the first sight of the dust in the distance. He stole a glance sideways. Xander was staring out of the passenger seat window, pretending, as always, not to have noticed.

Nathan sometimes thought he could see his childhood homestead appear a thousand times, and a thousand times find it surprising.

The house stood on a slight rise at the end of a driveway that stretched for more than twenty kilometres. The homestead glowed like an oasis as the red desert gave way to a lush lawn and well-tended garden, kept green by bore water. The house itself, with its sweeping verandah, looked plucked from a country street in a time when homes were still generous and sprawling. The large industrial sheds dotted around spoiled the illusion a little, as did the staff accommodation cabins. They looked deserted to Nathan’s eye, but a caravan he hadn’t seen before was parked in the yard beside a dusty four-wheel drive.

As he drove up to the house, he kept his eyes peeled for signs of decay or disrepair. He could see none. The house, like the property and the well-fed cattle they’d passed on the journey, appeared to be doing well. Better than Nathan’s own place at any rate, he couldn’t help thinking as he parked next to Bub. Strings of tinsel and Christmas lights had been wound along the verandah. They had been put up with care, but already looked tatty as they flapped in the hot wind.

Harry was waiting, leaning on the wooden railings. He straightened as the three of them got out of the cars. Harry had skin like a leather bag and an expression that barely changed, making it hard to guess what he was thinking. Balamara born and bred, he had started working on stations at an age when he should have still been in school. He had come to Burley Downs before Nathan was born, and he was still there, after Nathan had left.

‘Good to see you both,’ Harry said, shaking Nathan’s hand and giving Xander a gentle slap on the shoulder. Bub was engulfed in a slobbery reunion with his dog. Nathan saw Cameron’s cattle dog, Duffy, hanging back and watching the empty road. He reached out a hand and she came to him reluctantly.

Strains of music floated from somewhere in the house as a recorded voice sang about snow and sleighbells. Coming from his nieces’ rooms, Nathan guessed. It had been a year since he had seen Cameron’s daughters and he wondered how they would cope with the news about their dad. The festive music sounded strangely grotesque, but the girls were only eight and five, he thought. Whatever helped.

The front door opened and Nathan felt a jolt of horror at the sight of his mother. Her cheeks were pale and sunken beneath bloodshot eyes and her shoulders were hunched as though it was taking all her effort simply to be upright.

‘I thought you were trying to sleep,’ Harry said.

Liz Bright didn’t bother answering as she blinked into the light through slitted swollen lids. Nathan could see fresh tears forming as she looked at them. Neither he nor Bub was the son she wanted to see, Nathan knew, then immediately felt guilty for thinking it. Liz had always tried hard not to play favourites, but Cameron’s ready smile, quick mind and well-run property hadn’t made it easy. Bub, unshaven and dust-streaked, was rubbing his eye with a dirty finger. Nathan knew he looked no better.

Liz brightened a touch at the sight of Xander, and she pulled him close, holding him fiercely. When she let him go, she reached up and put her arms around Nathan too. He hugged her back. The movement had the rusty edge of underuse.

Liz took a deep breath. ‘Tell me.’

‘Maybe we should go inside –’ Harry started, but she cut him off.

‘No. The girls are inside. Tell me here.’

Nathan found himself once again wishing that Cameron were there. He would handle this properly. Bub, who was crouched down whispering to his dog, offered no help.

‘It was quite strange,’ Nathan started, then stopped. He tried again, doing his best to explain as Liz began to pace up and down the verandah. She only went a short way, as though torn between wanting to hear but unable to bear it. ‘We’re not sure,’ he found himself repeating. ‘I don’t know.’

‘His car worked,’ Bub interjected at one point, sending Liz shuffling to the far end of the floorboards. ‘We tried it.’

‘Not bogged?’ Harry said, looking from one brother to the other. ‘No flats?’

They shook their heads.

‘Any idea what Cam was doing out there?’ Nathan asked.

‘Didn’t mention any work in that area,’ Harry said. ‘He wrote in the book that he was going to Lehmann’s Hill.’

‘Bub said he seemed a bit stressed lately,’ Nathan said.

He saw Harry glance at Liz and wondered if he was reluctant to talk in front of their mum. Harry nodded. ‘I reckon that’s fair to say, yeah.’

‘How bad was it?’

‘Hard to tell.’ Harry’s face moved a fraction. It was still impossible to read. ‘He hadn’t been himself for a few weeks, looking back. Maybe a month, would you say?’ He looked to Liz, who gave a tight nod, staring past the lush garden to the barren brown land beyond.

‘It didn’t seem like anything too serious though,’ Harry went on. ‘Obviously. Or we would have done something.’