The Lost Man(90)

Nathan thought of Jacqui, and felt a sudden flash of sympathy for her. Their marriage hadn’t been easy on him, but it hadn’t been easy on her either. He looked at Ilse. ‘I’m sorry you were unhappy.’

She gave a small laugh, and he saw her take another sip from her bottle. ‘That’s not your fault, Nathan. I just wish –’ She stopped.

‘What?’

They sat across from each other in the dark, the constellations brilliant above, their drinks warming in the air, the guitar lying on the step.

‘I honestly didn’t know Cameron was your brother when he first started talking to me,’ she said, finally.

‘Ilse, it’s okay. It doesn’t matter now.’

‘No, listen to me. I could have guessed, though. It wasn’t hard to work out. But I was all by myself in this strange town. I didn’t have any friends. I don’t know exactly what I was hoping for with you, but when you disappeared –’ She paused and Nathan felt a familiar painful twist at the sheer missed opportunity. Ilse sighed. ‘I was feeling sorry for myself, and suddenly Cameron was there. And he was good-looking, and so charming.’ She said the word like it was a fault. ‘He laughed at my jokes. I was flattered, I suppose. I’d never had anyone like him interested in me. And I was so young and stupid.’

‘Yeah, well,’ Nathan said. ‘I know what that’s like. I wasn’t even that young when I stuffed everything up, so I’ve got no excuse.’

He saw the flash of a smile in the dark, quick but real. The step creaked gently. He didn’t see her move but all of a sudden she felt a little closer.

‘Cameron said he loved me. And then I was pregnant and then we were married and then ten years later, here I am. It’s just, sometimes I stand on this verandah and I look out and I wonder –’ Her voice was soft. ‘How things might have turned out if I hadn’t been quite so young and dumb. If I’d only done one or two things differently.’

‘I wonder that all the time.’

‘Do you?’

‘Every day.’

Her hand was inches from his own in the dark. He could feel the ends of his fingertips tingle against the dusty porch.

‘Ilse.’ He said her name softly.

The step creaked again. Definitely a little closer. Her clean damp hair smelled like the ocean.

‘Ilse, I wanted to say –’

‘Nathan.’ Her voice was quiet. ‘It’s honestly okay.’

‘No. Please –’

‘It’s okay, truly.’

‘I am so sorry.’

‘I know.’ Her fingertips brushed his.

‘I tried to come back to see you, more than once. I was ashamed of what I’d done. And I was worried what you’d say, but I should have tried harder. I really wanted to talk to you.’ The words were tumbling out, falling over each other in relief at being finally spoken. ‘I regret that more than –’

‘You don’t have to.’

‘I do, though. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you that when I could have. And if I hurt you.’ Her eyes were bright in the darkness and he could feel the warmth of her fingertips against his. ‘I’m sorry about so much. Everything, really. And I’m sorry for me. For having it all in front of me and letting you go like that. For missing my chance.’

Her voice was close. ‘That was all a long time ago.’

‘I know, but I’ve been wanting to tell you that ever since.’

‘You’ve been waiting ten years to tell me that?’

‘Yes.’

‘Nathan.’ He could feel her breath soft on his lips. ‘What are you waiting for now?’

He leaned in.





Chapter 34



They broke apart for air, half standing, half stumbling up the darkened steps with her skin warm against his, and Nathan felt Ilse pull him towards the sleeping house. His hand was tight in hers and his mind leaped and bounded ahead, up the steps, past his sleeping bag on the couch and to her room – Cameron’s room – and he felt her hesitate at the same time.

‘Wait. Not there,’ he said into her hair.

‘Where then?’ she whispered.

‘This way.’

He took her by the hand, moving as fast as the dark would let him around the side of the house and towards the driveway, and suddenly it was ten years ago and he was pressing her up against the side of his four-wheel drive and he could feel her mouth hot and sweet on his, and her hands fumbling at his waistband. He threw open the rear door of the car, shoving equipment and supplies aside as he dragged a blanket onto the floor.

The suspension creaked as they stretched out and he could hear their breath as the moon shone through the windows. She reached for him and he could feel the weight of the years falling away, and for the first time in as long as he could remember, he could breathe properly. She was warm and steady and suddenly it was all flooding back: the way he had felt that first night, lying close to her with the years laid out ahead of him and the choices still there to be made. And he felt as though in this moment, for once in his life, he was exactly where he should be, with his arms around her as the Christmas stars burned hot and bright in the night sky above them. It felt right. It felt like a second chance.