Force of Nature (Aaron Falk #2)(25)

‘All right. Because the briefing –’

‘I really am sorry –’

‘I know, but it wasn’t the first time for something like that. Or even the second.’

‘It won’t happen again.’

‘Are you sure, Lauren? Because –’

‘Yes. I’m sure. Things will improve.’

Things would have to, Jill thought. Lauren had been high on the list in the latest round of cuts. Highest, in fact, until Alice had argued for a merger of part-time roles to make equivalent savings. Jill also suspected Alice had covered for Lauren at least twice in recent months, narrowly averting mistakes in the making. If Jill was aware of two instances, there were almost certainly more. She knew the two women went back a long way. What that meant for Lauren was another question.

Up ahead, they could see Alice’s head, fair against the gloomy trail. Jill thought of something.

‘You did a good job with the fire last night. I saw you light it.’

‘Oh. Thanks. I learned it at school.’

‘They taught you well.’

‘You’d hope so. It was the Endeavour Ladies’ College full-year special at their McAllaster Outdoor Campus. A long time to learn all sorts of things out there. Alice went as well.’ Lauren looked at Jill. ‘You must have gone to private school, didn’t yours do something like that?’

‘I was educated in Switzerland.’

‘Oh. I suppose not, then.’

‘Thank God.’ Jill glanced sideways with a small smile. ‘I’m not sure I could cope with a year of this sort of thing.’

Lauren smiled back but Jill could sense the unasked question in her eyes. If Jill was so uncomfortable, why agree to this at all? Jill had lost count of the thousand different ways the question had been framed over the past thirty years, but her answer had always been the same. BaileyTennants was a family firm. And Jill Bailey did what was best for the family.

‘Anyway,’ Lauren said. ‘That’s all I wanted to say, really. I do realise things haven’t been good enough at work.’

Ahead, Jill saw Alice and Bree had stopped. The track had hit a fork, a path to the left, a smaller one to the right. Bree had pulled out the map and was sitting on a stump, examining it, her nose close to the paper. Alice stood, hands on hips, watching her. She looked up as they approached, her blue eyes alert and head tilted. Jill wondered suddenly if she’d been listening to their conversation. No. Surely she was too far away.

‘And I’m really grateful for my job and the opportunities.’ Lauren had lowered her voice. ‘And for your patience. I want you to know I’ll make it up to you.’

Jill nodded. Up ahead, Alice was still watching.

‘I know you will.’





Chapter 8



When Falk awoke with a start, the window outside his cabin was darker than he remembered. He heard the rustle of paper and looked down. His dad’s map was still open across his chest. He rubbed a hand over his eyes and squinted at the rain hitting the window pane. It took a moment before he realised the tapping was coming from the door.

‘You took your time,’ Carmen said as he opened it, a cold rush of air sweeping in with her.

‘Sorry. I was asleep. Come in.’ Falk looked around the room. No chairs. He pulled the dent in the bedspread straight. ‘Take a seat.’

‘Thanks.’ Carmen cleared a space among the maps on the bedspread. ‘What are all these?’

‘Nothing. They used to belong to my dad.’

Carmen picked up the Giralang Ranges map lying open on the top of the pile. ‘This one’s all marked up.’

‘Yeah. They all are. It was kind of his hobby.’

‘I don’t suppose there’s a big black X with the words “Alice is here” on it?’ Carmen said. She examined the pencil markings. ‘My nanna used to do this to her recipe books, write little notes and corrections. I’ve still got them all. It’s nice, like she’s talking to me. And she was right. Half a teaspoon of juice mixed in with the zest will give you the best lemon drizzle cake you’ve ever tasted in your life.’ She put down the map she was holding and picked up another. ‘Did you visit these trails together?’

Falk shook his head. ‘No.’

‘What, none of them?’

Falk stacked the maps slowly. ‘We didn’t really see eye to eye.’ His mouth felt dry and he swallowed.

‘Why not?’

‘It’s a long story.’

‘Is there a short version?’

Falk looked down at the maps. ‘When I was sixteen, Dad sold our farm and moved us to Melbourne. I didn’t want him to, but there’d been a lot of trouble in our hometown. Things there went south pretty fast, and I think Dad thought he was doing it for my benefit. I don’t know, he felt he had to get me away, I suppose.’

As an adult, years later and with the benefit of twenty-twenty hindsight, Falk knew a part of him could now understand that. At the time, he’d simply felt sold out. It had seemed wrong, running away to the city with the scent of fear and suspicion lodged in their nostrils.

‘It was supposed to be a fresh start,’ he said. ‘But it didn’t really work out like that. Dad hated it. I wasn’t much better.’ He stopped. And they had never talked about it. Not about their past life, not about their new life. The unspoken words had hung between them like a veil, and it was as if a new layer had been added every year. It grew so thick that by the end, Falk felt he couldn’t even see the man on the other side. He sighed. ‘Anyway, every weekend he could, Dad used to pack a bag, drive out somewhere and go hiking. Use his maps.’