They walked all the way down one of the aisles and the woman pulled down a large folder. ‘You’re in luck. They go all the way back to 1964. Prior to that it was called the Rural School; the boys were taught manual skills and girls learnt home management.’ She handed the heavy folder over to Dana. ‘Yell out if you need any help.’

  Dana set herself up at a table in the back corner. On the front of the 1976 yearbook was a grainy photo of the school – a central wooden building with a large extension built onto the side. She flicked through the pages looking at old photographs. In one photo a group of younger students were lined up in rows out the front of the schoolhouse. The boys and girls in the front row sat on the ground with their arms and legs crossed, the majority of them not wearing shoes. She recalled Lachlan saying that Killarney had been a different place when he was younger. Rougher, with violence breaking out in the pub on a regular basis.

  In the Principal’s report she was intrigued to read that Ryan Kennedy had been the Head Prefect and Dux of the year. It went on to say that he’d passed junior with eight A’s and had won an open scholarship to study at Toowoomba Grammar School.

  A few pages further in was a note about the annual athletics sports day with pictures of students holding their ribbons. Ryan had been age champion and Sean runner-up. She knew that going through old archives to find information on Sean, Ryan and Blair was a massive waste of her time, but so far it had proven to be a useful distraction from having to think about her own guilty conscience.

  She tried to imagine what their relationship had been, and wondered how Sean would have coped with losing to Ryan. Not well, she speculated, thinking about the dynamic between them. Ryan had been serious, studious and athletic. Sean was social and good with his hands. Perhaps high school had been the start of Sean and Ryan’s animosity towards each other, where the competitiveness between them had ignited.

  In the centre of the book was a collage of candid photos – teenagers with their arms around each other doing peace signs, staring into microscopes, clutching musical instruments and participating in all manner of school events.

  The last thing she saw before she closed the book was a small photo of Blair bottle-feeding a black lamb as he cradled it in his arms. The label underneath read. Blair Hadley. Agriculture excursion to Toowoomba Royal Show, March 1976.

  The look he was giving the creature was one of such love and tenderness that her eyes brimmed with tears.

  21

  Back in Toowoomba that night, Dana invited Susan and Angus over for dinner. When they finished their gnocchi with lemon and sage, Susan volunteered to make a cup of tea while Dana and Angus watched The Mighty Ducks in the lounge room. Dana moved over to be closer to him on the couch as he finished his last spoonful of hokey pokey ice cream.

  ‘So how have you been feeling about everything since Jayden died,’ she asked him.

  ‘Okay, I guess. I’ve been having dreams. In one we were drinking Cokes and feeding the birds like we used to on our breaks.’

  ‘That’s understandable. It’s hard to get closure when someone disappears from your life unexpectedly.’ She took his bowl from him and stacked it with hers on the coffee table. ‘Did I tell you that I took a trip out to Falls Farm today?’

  ‘Where’s that?’

  ‘Near Edith’s shop. It’s where I got the fresh vegetables that we ate with dinner.’

  ‘Why did you go all the way out there?’ His eyes narrowed as though he knew what she’d been doing.

  ‘I wanted to talk to a woman who had some information about the bike used in the hit-and-run. Sean’s Triumph Thunderbird.’

  His eyes were intent on the TV screen but she knew he was listening.

  ‘The woman who owned the farm, Emma, told me that a kid helped Sean to fix his motorbike. She thought it was someone who was good with their hands. Angus, are you listening to me? Do you know who it was?’

  ‘I guess so.’

  ‘Well, who?’

  ‘Jayden told me that he’d been the one to fix it up after it was in a crash.’

  ‘So, why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘I didn’t want him to go to jail.’

  ‘But what about Johnny’s family? What about his little girl?’

  ‘I don’t know. I didn’t think about it like that. Johnny was already dead. It’s not like anything was going to bring him back. He was still going to be dead and Jayden was going to be in jail. Just for hitting a guy who ran onto the road like a crazy person.’

  ‘Well, this changes a lot of things. There’s now a direct link between Jayden and the hit-and-run. It implies that he was part of the incident, or at least knew who was responsible.’ She stared at the side of his face in the flickering light of the TV screen. ‘I would have thought you’d have cared a bit more.’

  He shrugged. ‘Johnny’s dead. Jayden’s dead. But Nan’s still alive. You should be paying attention to her before she’s dead too.’ He jabbed at the power button on the TV remote, flicking it off and throwing it onto the lounge. Before she could say anything more he got up and stormed down the hall, slamming the front door behind him.

  Dana looked after him in shock, it was impossible to deny the truth in what he’d just said – that life was for the living. She got up and went to find Susan in the kitchen. ‘I’m really sorry, but I just tried to have a chat with Angus about Jayden and he got mad. He’s gone back to your house.’

  ‘Don’t worry about him, he’ll get over it soon enough. He’s angry at everyone at the moment, it’s just part and parcel of him knowing I’ll be gone soon.’ She shrugged. ‘Anyway, what do you say we take our cuppas outside?’

  They sat on the verandah with cups by their side, leaning back into the sofa with their feet up on the outdoor table. Susan reached into her pocket for a packet of cigarettes and lit one. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’

  ‘Not at all.’ Dana reached for the cup beside her and took a sip. ‘Have you always been a smoker?’

  ‘I smoked for years and I used to really enjoy it, but I gave it up when I got pregnant with Tina. Now that I’m not going to be around for much longer, I figure, why deny myself? What about you?’ asked Susan. ‘Have you ever tried it?’

  ‘Once or twice during high school, but I never really got into it. I was a runner, so it wasn’t very compatible.’

  ‘That’s very sensible of you.’

  ‘Have you heard from Tina lately?’

  ‘I called her last week. She’s refusing to visit me after I told her that she couldn’t have Angus when I die. I wanted to sit down and talk to her properly but in the end I had to tell her over the phone. Not the way I was hoping to give her the news …’ She shrugged as though she didn’t have the energy to continue.

  ‘And how did she take it?’

  ‘Hard to tell as I couldn’t see her reaction.’ She shifted on the couch, grimacing. ‘I’m worried she’s going to become a vulture after I’ve gone, picking over my belongings. And I’m really sorry, but you’re going to have to deal with that. I’ve been very clear in my will, about who gets what, so hopefully she can’t wreak too much havoc.’ She glanced over at Dana. ‘It’s the drugs again. She’s back on them, I know it. Whenever she’s using, she disappears for weeks at a time and only gets in contact when she needs money – like I’m her personal ATM.’

  ‘And how’s Angus coping with everything?’

  ‘I think he might finally be old enough to accept the reality of who she is. But there’s a good chance she’s going to keep disappointing him. Over the past day or two I’ve really sensed a change in him. I think he’s incredibly angry that she’s not here spending time with me. Anyway, enough doom and gloom. How’s things with that dashing man?’

  ‘Sean?’ replied Dana, wanting to delay the conversation.

  ‘Yes, the one with the motorbike.’

  ‘Not so good. Turns out he was seeing someone else at the same time and there were a number of other things that happened, which has led me to believe that he isn’t entirely trustworthy.’

  ‘How disappointing, he seemed so nice. Young men today have too many options. It takes forever for them to settle down. But if you want me to boil his bunny for you, just let me know – I’ll do it for you.’ She gave Dana a wicked grin. ‘And are you excited about the trip to Noosa tomorrow?’

  ‘I am. I’ve been fantasising about lying on the beach doing nothing for weeks.’

  ‘Well, you’ve earnt it. There’re very few people who work as hard as you do.’

  They sat shoulder to shoulder for the next hour talking and laughing. Dana stared up at the star-speckled sky as she walked Susan to her front door. The air on her back was soothing and benevolent. The same feeling she had whenever she was with Susan.

  Shivani dropped by early the next morning to pick Dana up and they drove to the coast without stopping. Three hours later they arrived in Noosa. Shivani pulled up outside a five-star hotel nestled in lush rainforest and a porter took their bags. Once in her room, Dana drew back the curtains and stared at the ocean. She collapsed onto her pillowy white king bed complete with a soft feathered doona and wondered why she hadn’t thought to do this earlier. She deserved a holiday. In fact, she’d been screaming out for one. It was such a relief not to be thinking about the investigation.

  The first thing they did after they’d finished unpacking was head for the pool – a glistening lagoon fringed with palm trees. They lay on sun lounges, the scent of coconut oil lingering in the air as Bob Marley tunes wafted gently through some speakers. Dana lay with her eyes closed, letting the sun warm her skin.

  Shivani sipped on a pina colada and turned to Dana. ‘I definitely think we should go to dinner tonight.’

  ‘Sounds good to me,’ she said without opening her eyes.

  ‘I was thinking of booking Bistro C. The view’s great and they make the most amazing whiskey sours. Not to mention, I’ve spent many hideous London winters dreaming about their seafood.’

  When they’d finished their meal that night, they strolled back up the hill to the hotel, breathing in the salty air. Dana fell asleep listening to the slow rotations of the ceiling fan and the distant hush of waves on the beach.

  As the days went by Dana found herself letting go, thinking less and less of Jayden and who killed Johnny Buckley, and simply enjoying the moment. She wore sarongs, cut her hair and developed the beginnings of a tan on her milky white skin. As she lay on the sun lounge next to the pool she finally felt as though she’d learnt the secret to life. To relax and not to succumb to endless obsession and burying herself in work.

  Towards the end of the holiday they followed the signs to the coastal walk through the national park. With the sea to the left they hiked past the thunderous waves crashing into the rocks at Boiling Pot Lookout. On the high bluff at Hell’s Gate they stopped for a drink of water and took in the spectacular views of the turquoise sea. As they were heading back along the path it began to spit. Dana turned her face to the sky, enjoying the rain and salt spray on her skin.

  The sun was intense by the time they arrived back at Little Cove so they stripped down to their swimmers and waded into the water. Dana let the choppy waves bounce her up and down with the current then duck-dived under the waves. The water offered a cooling respite after their long walk.

  They asked another tourist to take a photo of them when they were back on the beach. With their arms gripping each other tightly they stood framed by pandanus trees, surf and sand. Their faces were filled with joy as they grinned at the camera.

  A man in a tan linen suit with a gold name badge ran out from behind the reception desk when they got back to their hotel.

  ‘Dana Gibson?’

  She nodded.

  ‘There’s someone on the phone for you. Says it’s urgent.’

  22

  When Dana stepped into the hospital room she found Susan propped up in bed on a nest of pillows. A patchwork quilt had been spread over her legs and her breathing was laboured behind an oxygen mask.

  Susan removed the mask and Dana could hear the low hiss of the gas. ‘Thanks for coming.’ Susan’s voice was weak as though it had taken tremendous effort to speak.

  ‘You don’t need to thank me,’ said Dana reassuringly.

  ‘But your holiday—’

  ‘Don’t be silly.’

  Susan winced as she tried to sit up in bed.

  ‘How are you feeling? Do you want me to call one of the nurses? Get you more pain relief?’

  ‘There’s just one last thing I need to do.’ Susan paused, taking a painful gasp. ‘I need to see Tina.’

  ‘No problem. I can pick Angus up from school. We’ll drive down and get her.’

  ‘Take my car.’ She nodded to a cupboard to the right. ‘Keys are in the handbag. Oh and Dana …’

  Dana sat down and put her hand over Susan’s.

  ‘I don’t want a funeral. I don’t want the kids to make a fuss.’

  Dana nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

  ‘A garden party,’ her voice rasped. ‘Sprinkle my ashes in the backyard, near the mock orange tree. That’s when I was my happiest, when I was gardening. Okay?’

  Dana could feel tears stinging her eyes. She bit her lip, trying to keep it together so she could be strong for Susan. ‘Okay.’

  ‘And promise me. That you’ll be the one to look after Angus. Not his mum – she’s had her chance. Not anyone else, but you.’

  ‘I promise. You don’t have to worry.’

  Susan put the mask on and lay back into the pillows. She closed her eyes. It wasn’t long before her face went slack and her heavy breathing resumed.

  Dana leant over and kissed her on the forehead. She reached for the keys in Susan’s handbag and let herself out the door. When she stepped into the long white corridor she saw a nurse exiting the room opposite.

  ‘Excuse me?’ said Dana. ‘I’m a friend of Susan Fitcher’s. I was wondering if I could have a quick chat?’

  ‘Sure?’ The nurse held a clipboard to her chest and gave Dana her full attention.

  ‘Susan seems to have deteriorated very quickly in the last week or so and I was just wondering … how long she has left?’ Dana said awkwardly. ‘It’s just, she’s asked to see her daughter. I’ll have to drive down to Killarney and pick her up, but I’m worried I mightn’t have much time.’

  ‘It’s something we can never really know for sure, but Susan’s a fighter so I’d say you have a few more days.’ The woman smiled sympathetically. ‘But you wouldn’t want to leave it any longer than that.’

  Once again Dana found herself in Susan’s car with Angus in the passenger seat as they drove to Killarney. It was a quiet trip and he spent most of the time listening to his Walkman and fixating on the scenery, thoughts of his nan clearly playing on his mind.

  It was mid-afternoon by the time they reached the outskirts of Killarney. She pulled in at the petrol station to refuel and as she was replacing the hose in the pump, Angus stuck his head out of the car.

  ‘Dana, can you get me an icy pole? I’m feeling a bit car sick.’

  She doubted his excuse, but was relieved that he appeared to be cheering up.

  She heard the roar of a motorbike as she was paying at the cash register. Coming out of the service station doors, she saw Sean parked behind her car, removing his helmet.

  ‘Dana!’

  Her stomach lurched when he smiled at her.

  ‘I was going to call tonight to see what you were up to.’

  Yeah, right, she thought, noting that she didn’t feel in the slightest bit disappointed about his lack of contact. Susan’s illness and her time in Noosa had forced her to reconsider her priorities. She’d come to the realisation that reliability in a partner was high on the list. She turned her gaze to his bike.

  ‘You’ve gotten rid of the Thunderbird?’

  ‘It lost its appeal after I found out that it was involved in Johnny’s death. Like it had bad juju or something.’

  ‘I can see how that might happen.’ She pursed her lips as something else occurred to her. ‘Did you ever lend the bike to Jayden Maloney?’ she asked, already knowing the answer, but curious to see whether Sean would be honest with her.

  ‘He was a good kid, good with his hands too. Whenever I had a problem with the bike he was the first person I’d take it to. I told him he could ride it whenever he wanted.’ He squinted his eyes as though he was trying to gauge her expression. ‘But don’t worry, I’ve told Ryan all about it.’

  The passenger door of the car flew open and Angus stormed over. ‘You promised you weren’t going to do that anymore,’ he said to Dana.

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘Keep investigating Jayden’s death. All you keep doing is bringing back everyone’s bad memories.’

  ‘Oh, Angus sweetie, I’m sorry.’

  He turned and stormed back into the car, slamming the door behind him.

  Dana looked up at Sean. ‘He’s pretty upset. Susan’s taken a turn for the worse and is in hospital. I don’t think she has much longer now.’

  ‘That poor kid. He can’t seem to catch a break.’

  There was silence and Dana glanced down at the strands of pale grass growing through the cracks in the cement. ‘So, what have you been up to lately?’

  ‘Nothing much. Work mainly, we’ve been really busy at the mill – still understaffed.’

  ‘Maybe you should think about visiting your dad? It’s just that when I saw him at the farm with Lachlan, he seemed really lonely.’

  ‘Yeah, sure.’ He hesitated. ‘Do you want to meet for a drink in Toowoomba tomorrow night?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  His brow scrunched with confusion. ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘I’m fine.’ She smiled at him. ‘Just fine.’

  ‘Okay. Well … I’ll catch you around.’

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24