The Island(17)

The wheels spun in the ditch and the car didn’t move.

“Did you switch on the traction control?” Tom shouted.

“Yes! Keep pushing,” Heather replied.

They shoved, and the front wheel began to crawl its way out of the ditch. She kept the steering wheel steady, and ever so slowly the heavy vehicle climbed out onto the road.

They were perpendicular to any oncoming traffic. “Get in! Get the kids in!” Heather said. Tom jumped in the front passenger seat. The kids got in the back.

Now all she had to do was turn the—

Something in her field of view.

Another car was coming. A Toyota. One of the vehicles from the farm. She was never going to be able to turn in time. Shit. Another thirty seconds and no one would have been the wiser…

She turned the Porsche onto the left side of the road, and the Toyota pulled up next to them. A window wound down. It was Jacko and Matt.

“Hi,” Heather said.

“What happened to you lot?” Matt asked.

“Nothing. Just turning,” Heather said.

“Did you go in the sheugh?” Jacko asked.

“The what?”

“Ma calls it the sheugh. That ditch. Did you go in it?”

“Yes, but we’re OK now,” Heather said.

“Your airbags went off,” Matt said.

“They did,” Heather said. “Car is so sensitive—we weren’t even going fast…anyway, we’re fine, thank you for stopping. We better go if we’re going to catch the ferry,” Heather said.

“Is your husband OK? You OK, mate? You look like shit. You hit your head?” Matt asked.

“I’m fine,” Tom said.

“What about the kiddies?”

“They’re fine. Everyone is fine. We just better go get that ferry.”

“Yeah, you should go,” Matt agreed.

“We will. Thank you.”

“You didn’t see Ellen by any chance? A girl on a bike?” Jacko asked.

“No,” Tom said quickly.

“We didn’t see anyone,” Heather added. “Well, I guess we better go. Bye.”

She wound the window up and waved and began driving down the road.

In the rearview she saw Jacko and Matt sit in the car for a moment before Matt opened the door and got out.

She saw him get down on one knee and begin looking at the ground before she lost sight of him at the bend in the road.

“Shit,” Heather muttered and hit the gas pedal hard. “Seat belts, everyone!” she called and drove the Porsche at seventy miles an hour in the direction of the ferry pier.

They reached the ferry terminal in two minutes, and fortunately the ferry was there.

She slowed the Porsche and fixed a smile on her face.

“No one say anything, OK?” she said, looking at Tom and then turning around to the kids. “No one say anything. We’ll sort this out when we’re over the water.”

She waved to Ivan, pulled the car to a stop, and wound the window down as he came over.

“Hi there!” she said.

“You see a koala or two?” Ivan asked, leaning into the car window. It was then that Heather noticed he had a black-and-yellow object attached to his overalls. It was a walkie-talkie.

“Oh, yes,” Heather assured him.

Ivan picked his nose and sighed. “So you’re going to drive onto the ferry? Not your husband?”

“I’ll drive. He’s a bit tired.”

“You know, I can do it if you want. Never driven a Porsche before,” Ivan said.

Heather took a quick look at the blood all over the steering wheel. “No, I’m happy driving it on if you’ll guide me,” she said with a winning smile.

“Course I’ll guide you, missy. No worries. Take a little spill, did you? I see the airbags went off.”

“Not really—we just went into a ditch. The airbags are so sensitive. The rental guy warned us about it,” Heather said.

“Modern cars! Drove me old Holden Sandman thirty years, never had a problem. Kids get pics near the koalas?”

“Um, yes,” Heather said, hoping Ivan wouldn’t ask to see them.

“Evil little bastards. They can give you a nasty scratch. The koalas, I mean, not your kids! All right, I’ll put the ramp down and you just drive on slowly. Come to a full stop and put your hand brake on. What you Yanks call the emergency brake. It’s right next to your seat.”

Ivan lowered the ramp and she drove onto the ferry.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Ivan said.

“Not at all.”

Heather turned the engine off. Ivan put his hands into his pockets and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He lit one.

He didn’t seem to be in any particular hurry to get going.

“Um, look, could we go over now?” Heather asked.

Ivan shook his head. “I’d just as soon wait. That Dutch couple should be along any minute. I told them to be sharpish.”

“Matt said you’d take us over now,” Heather said.

“Matt? He gets a bit big for his boots sometimes. He’s not even an O’Neill. He’s a Watson. This is my ferry and I decide when we bloody go.”

“We’re sort of rushing to get back to Melbourne. We have a dinner reservation.”