The Lost Man(78)

‘She’s been away. She won’t know –’

‘About all that business with Keith? She will. If she’s based at Atherton, they’ll have said something. No question.’

‘Still. I dunno. I’ll think about it.’

‘Do. Because you’re not making it easy, mate.’

‘Easy for who?’

‘Anyone. Them. You.’ Harry nodded at the crowd. ‘At least give them a chance to forgive you.’

‘I did my begging ten years ago. It didn’t work out well.’

‘No-one’s asking you to do that. Just meet them halfway. Or a bit more, maybe. A lot of time has gone by.’

‘Same faces.’

‘Some. Some not.’ Harry dropped his voice. ‘And a couple of them have been asking about you. Young Tom. Geoff. Asking what you’ve been up to. Look at them. They know that could’ve easily been you we buried out there. Still could be one day soon, if they’re not careful. And that’d be something they’d all have to live with. This kind of thing brings things into perspective, puts people in a forgiving mood.’

‘Yeah? Well, good on them.’

‘I’m just saying, mate.’

Nathan shrugged. Across the room, he could see Bub chatting to a group of blokes about his age. Over in the corner, Ilse had escaped the older woman and was now talking to Steve.

They were standing apart from the other mourners, in the no-man’s-land under the painting. Ilse had her head close to Steve’s and looked to be speaking in a low voice. She was saying something, her face unusually agitated, while Steve pursed his lips. When Ilse stopped, the nurse shook his head. He opened his mouth to respond but she cut him off and started whispering again, more urgently this time. The crowd shifted and resettled and Nathan lost sight of them.

He leaned back against the wall. It was hot in the room and the chatter suddenly sounded loud. Nathan put down his beer and reached for the water jug on the nearest table. It was empty, as were two others he could see.

‘I’m going to fill these up,’ he said to Harry.

Harry shrugged. ‘I’m telling you, mate. You’re not doing yourself any favours, hiding away today.’

Nathan didn’t reply.

The kitchen was no cooler, but at least it was quiet. Katy was standing alone by the sink, staring out of the window. She started as Nathan clattered the jugs on the draining board.

‘Oh. Sorry,’ she said. ‘I thought you were Simon.’

‘No. Where is he, anyway?’

‘I don’t know.’

Nathan checked the fridge. No cold water in there. He went back to the sink. The water ran hot from both taps, but it would have to do.

‘Listen –’ He held the jug under the stream. ‘You two might be planning to hit the road soon but you’re still on the payroll today.’

‘I know. I’m sorry. I don’t feel a hundred percent.’ Katy leaned against the counter and Nathan saw that her face was in fact a little pale. Maybe it wasn’t a great idea to have her serving food, he thought.

‘Are you all right?’

‘It’s probably the heat.’

‘The nurse is around. Do you want me to get him?’

‘No. Thanks.’ She went over to the table and picked up another tray of sandwiches.

Nathan watched as she put it straight back down again, a pained look on her face. ‘Look,’ he said. ‘We’ll manage. Go and lie down if you’re ill –’

‘Who’s ill?’ Simon stood at the door with an empty tray in his hand.

‘No-one,’ Katy said. ‘I’m just a bit hot. Let’s get back to work.’ She swapped Simon’s empty tray for the full one. ‘You take that, and I’ll take these.’ She picked up the water jugs and flashed a smile. It looked almost real. ‘And everyone’s happy.’

She walked out of the kitchen and, after a beat, Simon followed. Nathan watched them go. Out in the hallway himself, he could hear the sound of chatter, louder now as more people spilled out from the cramped living room.

Nathan could see a few faces he recognised. Maybe he should go and try to talk to them. Go and find Melanie, even. Try to think of something to say this time. It was possible that Harry was right. Maybe people would forgive him.

Or maybe, Nathan’s thoughts darkened fast these days, maybe not. It had taken Nathan a long time – years – to get used to his life as it was. The swift cut of rejection had hurt enough at the time when it was sharp and fresh, but it was the way the wound had festered that had been the killer. He had got through it once, barely. He knew with whole-hearted certainty that he could not do it again. A group of men jostled out of the living room and down the hall in his direction. Quickly, Nathan opened the nearest door and stepped inside. Ilse’s office.

He shut the door behind him and breathed out. It was peaceful in there, the noise from the lounge and the hallway nothing more than a muffled hum. He stood for a minute, enjoying the peace, then walked over to the window. On the verandah, Sophie was playing some game with Kylie’s kids, while Lo looked on. Xander was nearby, leaning against a post and chatting to a girl who looked around his age. She was smiling.

At the other side of the yard, someone was standing alone by the graves. Bub. He seemed to have his flies done up at least, Nathan thought, so that was something. His brother wasn’t even looking at the earth. He was standing at the fence, with his back to the house, staring out into the beyond. Nathan watched for a minute more, then turned and looked at the wall calendar. Bub’s mustering plans. Written on and then firmly crossed off.