Only We Know (26 page)

‘I don't understand.'

Calla exhaled some of the hurt. ‘This is your share of Mum and Dad's house. Rose and I sold it. This belongs to you.'

Jem looked at her with wide eyes, shock on his mouth. ‘I don't want anything of his.' He tried to hand the cheque back but Calla held up her hands.

‘You're seriously going to walk away from that much money
and
your sisters?'

Calla looked to Jessie. There were fresh tears in the younger woman's eyes and she looked between Jem and Calla.

She fought for control. ‘Don't you know I've spent most of the past two years thinking you were dead?' Her quiet declaration silenced the room. The wind howled outside and Ella gurgled and sighed in her mother's arms.

Calla shrugged off Sam's arm and stomped over to Jem. ‘Do you know how many nights' sleep I've lost because of you? Do you?' She looked into his eyes, his sad, defeated eyes. ‘You're my little brother. I never gave up, Jem. I'm the one who's here to remind you that … I need you. You are my family.'

‘I can't, Calla.'

Jessie broke into a sob and turned to Calla with pleading eyes.

Jem slammed the door behind him as he left.

CHAPTER

33

The cheque lay on the table like a crumpled napkin. Calla, Sam and Jessie stared at it.

‘Can I ask how much it is?' Jessie asked quietly.

‘Hundreds of thousand of dollars, plus two years of interest,' Calla said calmly.

‘Oh, shit,' Jessie whispered.

The pain in Calla's head felt like a migraine. She sat at the table and pressed her palms into her eyes.

Sam's strong hand was on her shoulder.

Calla shook her head. She reached for the crumpled cheque, pulled it out and pressed her fingers along the creases to try to straighten it. ‘This is his, Jessie. And yours and Ella's now too. Don't let him be such a stubborn idiot that he doesn't take it. When we sold Dad's place, we couldn't split it between just the two of us. We couldn't be part of his twisted, hateful revenge. Please try to convince Jem about that. This has nothing to do with our father. This is from Rose and me. And Mum, of course. It was her house too.'

‘Calla, I'm so sorry,' Jessie said, rocking the whimpering Ella from side to side. ‘I didn't know anything about any of this. What you've all been through. Jeremy's never talked about his family. I wish he had. I'm so sorry for the way he acted.'

‘Don't apologise for him,' Calla said, forcing a smile onto her face. ‘I can see you've made him very happy, and I'm so glad. I can see he loves you. And Ella. You have a beautiful family.'

She let out a deep breath. This was finished. It was done. It was time to go home.

Sam reached for her hand. ‘You all right?' His voice was familiar, intimate.

Calla lifted her glasses and wiped the tears from her eyes. ‘Let's go.'

‘Oh no. Please stay. I'd like to get to know you a bit, Calla. You are my sister-in-law, after all.'

‘That's lovely of you to say, Jessie. But I can't.' Calla found a scrap of paper and a pen in her bag and wrote down her email address. ‘Here's where you can find me. I'd love to see some photos of Ella every now and then.' She lifted her bag over her shoulder. ‘Good luck with everything.'

Sam couldn't have fought off Jessie's hug if he'd tried. ‘Don't be a stranger, Uncle Sam.'

He chuckled. ‘I won't. I promise.'

They drove in silence, back along the dirt track and onto the main road, so they could make their way to Penneshaw and Calla's cabin. She wanted to pack up her things and go home. After what he'd seen and heard between her and her brother, he didn't blame her. Sam knew you couldn't tell what a family was like on the inside by looking at it from the outside. He knew from bitter experience that you couldn't do it with people, either. Three kids were still carrying the pain and hurt their parents had inflicted on each other. The scars ran deep and hard, and it looked like Calla had carried the burden for her whole family. For too long. That was loyalty. That was family. And to have it repaid with rejection from Jem? Sam burnt with anger for her. No wonder she'd wanted to run away.

He glanced over at her, sitting unmoving in the passenger seat, her eyes averted from him. He could see by the slump of her shoulders and the way her hands lay limp in her lap that she was worn out, exhausted. Nothing had gone right for her since she'd set foot on the ferry to come over to the island. For some crazy reason, he wanted to help fix that. He didn't want her to leave with these painful memories as her only reminders of the place where he'd grown up.

When he saw the sign, he changed gears, slowed and turned right off the main road and onto another track.

Calla glanced at him. ‘Isn't Penneshaw that way?' She pointed dead ahead.

He looked at her over the rims of his sunglasses. He wanted to see her smile. Wanted to see happiness in her eyes instead of gloom. Wanted it more than anything. Something shifted in him, something deep, when he realised he wanted her to be happy more than he'd ever wanted anything for himself. ‘You getting a sense of direction all of a sudden?'

‘It's not hard. There's one bitumen road. And a sign.'

‘We won't be long. I want you to see something before you leave.'

‘This is incredible.'

‘Isn't it?' Sam answered. Calla pulled her coat closer around her as she looked out at the white sandy beach and the water. They were standing on the headland of Point Ellen, looking out over the long, curved beach of Vivonne Bay. It seemed to go on forever, cutting into the natural scrubland behind it like a scythe, with not a building or house in sight. In the distance, the craggy southern Kangaroo Island coast emerged out of the water in vertical shards, carved by the weather over millions of years and the ceaseless, pounding waves.

There wasn't another person anywhere. There was beauty in the rugged wildness, crispness and cleanness in this remote beach. The long jetty sat lonely and empty.

‘This is the only safe harbour on the south side of the island.' Sam nudged Calla's shoulder, pointed out to the swelling ocean. ‘Right out there, about six thousand kilometres away? That's Antarctica.'

‘That explains why it's so freaking cold,' she said, rubbing the tip of her nose. ‘Where are the fishing boats?'

‘Away for winter. Cray season begins later in the year; November, I think.'

‘It's so beautiful. What's it like in summer?'

‘Amazing. The water is so clear you can see your feet underwater.'

Calla wistfully realised she'd never see it in summer. She would have to remember the greys and the purples, the shadows from the clouds and the earthy brown of the cliffs. That would have to be enough.

Sam lifted his sunglasses, propped them on his head. ‘I wanted to bring you here, show you this. You deserve some memories of KI that make you happy. I want you to take some good ones with you when you go home. Of the island. When you're back in your real life, close your eyes and think of this place.'

Calla fluttered her eyelids closed against the wind. What would she remember about her time on the island? Finding Jem and finally saying goodbye to her dream of a happy and reunited family? Yes, that would be a memory. But there would be others. This cliff top and the beach below. The man by her side. His kisses. His kindness. His care. His handsome face.

‘You're lovely,' she said. Calla snuggled her arms inside his coat, found his body underneath and wrapped herself around him. She laid her cheek against him and felt his chest rise and fall with his breaths, his heart beating against his chest. He enclosed her in his arms.

They held on to each other for a long while, buffeted between the beach and the ocean, caught somewhere between the other world and this magical place. She would remember this. She would remember him. Awake and asleep, she would remember this man.

Calla released her hold, looked into his eyes. ‘I think your phone's ringing.'

Sam kept one arm around Calla while he dug it out of his pocket. He looked at the number. ‘It's Ben.' He pressed the screen. ‘Hey, Benny, how you going?'

‘Good, mate, good. Listen, I've got your old man here at the pub.'

‘Yeah?' Calla, who could hear the barman clearly, felt Sam stiffen.

‘You might want to come and get him.'

‘What's happened, Ben?'

‘He's okay but …'

‘Ben?'

‘He's been telling me that your mum hasn't come home from the shopping.'

Sam sighed. ‘Fuck.'

‘He's worked himself up into a lather and he won't listen to me,' Ben said. ‘He wants to call the cops and report her missing.'

Sam released Calla. ‘Can you just spin him a little bit of bullshit? Tell him you've called the police and that they're on their way.'

‘No worries. Do you want to talk to him?'

‘No. He'll only get more confused. I'm here with Calla at Vivonne Bay. We're leaving now. Can you give him a beer and make sure he eats something?'

‘Will do, mate.'

‘Thanks, Ben. I appreciate it,' Sam said.

He ended the call. ‘We've got to go.' He took Calla's hand and urged her to follow him as he navigated the rocky cliff-top path back to the car park. She pulled him to a stop. When he looked back over his shoulder, he looked defeated.

‘Sam, let me help.' Her heart thudded with fear, for Charlie and for his son.

‘I can handle it,' he said with a tight jaw.

‘I know you can. I'm right here. You don't have to do this alone. You can count on me too, you know.' She tugged him towards her and kissed him on the mouth, strong and determined.

‘Let's go.'

‘Hey, Calla.'

‘Hi, Rose.' Calla pressed her mobile phone to her left ear so she could hear her sister over the humming of the engine. She stole a glance at Sam. His attention was on the long road in front of them. He hadn't said much of anything since they left Vivonne Bay. Calla knew why. Charlie was having a bad day. She knew, without Sam saying it, that he was worried his father would never have a good day again.

‘You still in one piece?' She tried to keep the conversation perky. Maybe it would distract Sam, cheer him up a little on the way back to the pub.

‘Yes. This enormous bowling ball is still stubbornly ensconced inside me.'

‘Good. That's exactly what should be happening. You feeling okay?'

Rose sighed. ‘I'm tired. Enormous. Wish I could see my feet. The usual stuff. David has been waiting on me like all good husbands should. But that's enough about me. What's happening? You sound like you're in the car. Where are you?'

‘Where are we? Um, I'm not quite sure.' Calla couldn't be certain but she thought she heard Sam chuckle. When she looked to her right, she could see the slightest hint of a smile on his lips. ‘Somewhere on the south coast of Kangaroo Island, at the western end. Antarctica is on one side of us, and there's a highway. Trees and scrub on either side.'

She'd deliberately omitted the most important element of the scenery around her.

And a spectacular man in the seat next to me
.

‘You're with the fireman, aren't you?' Rose asked.

‘Yes.'

‘Exactly how handsome is he?'

‘The scenery is gorgeous.'

‘Oh, I want details. So?' Rose said, and Calla could hear the question in that one word. ‘I got your text from earlier today about going to see Jem. Are you going to tell me what happened?'

Calla sighed. ‘I saw the baby. Ella. She's beautiful, a couple of weeks old.'

‘No way. HeSheIt has a cousin — and they'll be almost the same age. How about that? What about Jem? What did he say?'

‘Not much.'

‘So it wasn't quite the happy family reunion you were hoping for?'

‘No,' Calla sighed. She held her fingers up and pressed them to the window. They ached from the cold and she needed the heat from the sun-warmed window.

‘Did he take the money?'

‘He said he wouldn't take it, but I left it there anyway. He's a father now; he'll need it. I'm sure when he's calmed down, he'll see the sense in that.'

‘Oh Calla,' Rose sighed. ‘It's done now. Just come home.'

Rose's words hit Calla behind her eyes and she felt tears welling.

‘That's my plan. I'll see you soon.'

‘Love you.'

‘Love you too.' Calla put her phone in her bag, tried not to let Sam see that she was wiping the tears away.

Just come home.

Her little sister was right.

CHAPTER

34

‘She's lost, I tell you. I can't find her anywhere.' Charlie's old-man voice was strangled and panicked. ‘Where's your mother, Sam?'

Sam had found his father in the pub's main bar, and when he saw the look of utter confusion and despair on his haggard face, he swallowed the desperate and sinking feeling that was heavy in his heart. Charlie's anguished question, so utterly disconnected from the reality of his life, was more evidence that his father was in danger if he continued to live on his own at Roo's Rest.

‘Dad, stop it,' Sam said. He couldn't touch him, was hesitant to pat his back or take his arm, in case Charlie panicked even more. Where had his old man gone? There was a stranger in those eyes, in the slump of his shoulders, in the wild grey shock of his hair and in the inside-out jacket on his back. Sam looked around. Everyone in the pub was trying not to look — they were mostly tourists, he suspected. Any locals would know who Charlie was and would be helping, or at least wouldn't just be staring so blatantly.

‘Jean? Where's Jean?'

Sam knew how fucked up it was for a man who rescued people for a living to freeze up like he was. He didn't know what to do, or to say to his father. This was unchartered territory. There was no training he'd ever had that could have prepared him for what was happening before his eyes: the slow disintegration of the man he once knew. His feet were rooted to the spot. He didn't know what to say.