The Island(23)

“Is it working?” Tom asked.

“I don’t know. I think so, yes,” Heather said.

“I can’t breathe, Dad,” Olivia complained.

“I’m sorry, honey. Try to put a finger between the ropes and your neck,” Tom said.

“OK,” Olivia replied, as if this were somehow a normal question and answer.

“What’ll we do if we can cut the ropes?” Owen asked.

“We’ll get ourselves free and then dig under the planks at the back of the shed. We’ll make a run for it into the undergrowth. The ferry dock is only two miles away across country. We can easily get there,” Tom said.

“And then what?” Owen asked.

“We’ll take it to the other side.”

“What if the ferry is tied up on the other side of the channel?” Owen said.

Tom winced. He hadn’t thought of that. “We’ll hide out on the island.”

“They’ll find us,” Olivia whimpered.

Tom shook his head. “No, they won’t find us.”

Tom could see that Heather had the penknife between the thumb and forefinger of her right hand. The rope was very thick hemp and she looked so awkward trying to cut it. “Is it definitely working?” he asked.

“I think so,” she said.

“Good, keep at it.”

“Can you really do this, Tom?” Heather asked him. “Hide us from them?”

“Of course I can,” he assured her.

Owen was getting excited now. “We could get rabbits. We could make spears and hunt them.”

“Don’t be dumb, Owen,” Olivia said.

“Did you tell anyone about us coming here?” Heather asked.

“No, but the GPS on our phones was working all the way through most of the peninsula, so the police will be able to track our movements and figure out where we went.”

“They won’t know we’ve come over here, though. The GPS wasn’t working on the ferry,” Heather said.

Tom didn’t need her negativity now and she had that young person’s thing of saying everything that came into her head. “Honey!” he said with mild reproach. “The police will figure it out, won’t they?”

Heather picked up on his signals. “Yes, yes, you’re right, of course. The cops will be looking for us by now and they’ll get us tomorrow.”

Tom nodded. If they stayed calm, looked around them, tried to be present, it would be OK.

“That’s right. All three of you have to trust—”

Voices, people moving toward them…

“Shit, they’re coming back, hide the knife in the dirt,” Tom said.

Heather fumbled the penknife into the floor as best she could just as the shed door opened.

“We need to talk to both of you again,” Matt said.

“We need water for the children,” Tom said.

“I’ll get you water. We decided we’d better talk to you and your wife before Danny gets here,” Matt said and began undoing the rope that tied Heather’s neck to the timber frame. Tom had an anxious moment as Matt looked at the floor near where Heather was sitting, but he didn’t see the penknife. Matt undid the rope around Tom’s neck and pulled them both to their feet.

“This is utterly disgraceful. You should be ashamed of yourself. You can’t keep us like this. These are little kids! What are you thinking?” Heather said to Matt.

Even in the gloomy light of the hut, Tom could see that Matt was embarrassed.

“Look, yeah, I’m sorry about all this. But I did bloody tell you not to come here,” Matt said.

“If you insist on keeping me and Tom so we can sort out some form of compensation, then so be it,” Heather said. “But you need to take the children to the mainland on the ferry.”

Tom gave her an I’ve got this look. He wanted to deescalate the situation. Heather was getting herself worked up. There was no way Ma would ever allow such a thing. “No, we don’t need you to do that. But our kids need water,” Tom said.

“I’ll bring them water. Come on,” he said. “Danny’s on the ferry. He’s nearly here.”

“I’m not leaving these children in here by themselves,” Heather said.

“I give you my word nothing’s going to happen to them. Trust me,” Matt said. He said it so sincerely that Tom believed him, and Heather found herself nodding.

“Come on, Heather,” Tom said. “Let’s be calm and we’ll go fix this.”

Kate was waiting outside the shearing shed with her shotgun. “She’s in the farmyard,” she said to Matt. “We brought Ma’s chair out.”

They trudged between the farm buildings and odd bits of machinery that resembled sinister modern-art installations.

They reached the farmyard, where the Porsche was still parked, and Tom noticed the Dutch couple’s camper van. Where were they in all this?

Ma was sitting in her rocking chair with about fifteen or twenty people gathered around her in the twilight. The flies had not dispersed when the sun set, and there was a smell of decaying kelp blowing in from the sea. Most of the adults were armed, Tom noted. Heather had better not try anything foolish.

“Danny’s coming. We better settle this now,” Ma said. “You two stand in front of me. We’re gonna sort this out like grown-ups. Fair dinkum and shake on it. Agreed?”