Page 78 of Lost In Kakadu

“No, I never told anyone. But I always hoped Grace somehow found peace with what happened.”

Mackenzie remembered sitting at his window, all those years ago, staring across the concrete jungle and wondering if wishes really did come true.

Looking at where he was right now though, he was convinced they didn’t.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Abi strolled back from her morning swim with her head held high. Months of physical labour and food rations had accomplished what years of dieting plans had failed to do. She was strong, slender and athletic.

Ironically, she was convinced she ate more here in the remote Australian jungle than she ever did at home.

Back at home, she often ate just one meal a day under the mistaken belief she’d lose weight by skipping meals. Of course, that usually meant that by the time she did eat she was ravenous and would devour more than her recommended daily calories. Running her hand over her abdomen, she admired her firm stomach muscles as they flexed with each step. Feeling empowered, she skipped along the path toward the clearing.

Mackenzie was near the plane closely examining its battered exterior.

“Good morning,” she called to him.

He didn’t look up. “Hey.”

“What are you doing?”

“Building.”

She knew better than to ask. Mackenzie liked to keep his craftsmanship under wraps. He said it kept her in suspense, but she suspected that he waited until the creation was successful, eliminating the need to show her any failed projects.

She didn’t mind, though. His ingenuity continually amazed her. In the face of their limited resources, he’d become a very creative builder.

Longing for something to do, she looked about. They’d finished breakfast and cleaned the dishes earlier and she’d washed their clothes the day before. Stepping into the plane, she busied herself making the beds but then spied Charlie’s bundle of letters.

She collected them and, as she strolled to the fire, she glanced at Charlie’s grave. The plants had grown back over it. Only the headstone gave any indication it was there. Mackenzie always made sure all the headstones were free from the creeping vines. Charlie’s stone looked particularly white in this morning’s sun, and she nodded at it, letting Charlie know he wasn’t forgotten. She took a seat by the fire.

Abi believed Charlie would appreciate someone sharing his life experiences and it was evident in the writing that he’d shared them with no-one. She tried to pace herself by reading just one letter per day, but sometimes the suspense was agonising, like seeing only half of a good movie.

The first couple of letters she’d read randomly, but since then she’d read them in chronological order. The first letter had been gut-wrenching—well-written but full of hate. It had been addressed to his ex-wife, Sue. Charlie had expressed his hurt and dismay at finding out about his wife’s affair with his best friend, and Abi could relate to every word he wrote, having experienced the same situation herself several times over.

She wondered how Spencer would’ve reacted had he known she was aware of his affairs.

She unravelled the satin ribbon and removed the next letter from the bundle, marking its place with a fifty dollar note. Just like all the other letters, this envelope had also been returned with the words, ‘No longer at this address’ written across the front.

Charlie had averaged at least one letter per month and his letters were always charged with emotion. The diversity of those emotions was dramatic. His first couple were full of anger and hate, then he plummeted to remorse and even guilt. His writing switched to frustration and then to her amazement, he became forgiving and loving, before ultimately returning to hatred. His letters were a big cycle of emotional confusion.

But Abi understood every one of them and wished she’d possessed the courage to have done the same to Spencer a long time ago.

Charlie’s letters ultimately told of a harrowing one-sided love story. This particular letter was dated 17th June 1984 and the sadness of the words dripped off the page. Abi wiped her eyes and continued despite her blurred vision.

Mackenzie startled her. “Are you reading those sad letters again?”

“Mmm.” She didn’t trust her voice.

He knelt beside her, his eyes gentle and caring. “Why do you do that to yourself?”

A tear slipped out and he wiped it from her cheek.

“I do it for Charlie. No-one listened to that poor old man. He wrote these amazing letters full of passion and honesty and nobody ever read them.”

“If they’re so good then why are you crying?”

She looked into his dark eyes.Be honest, Abi.“Because I can relate to his words, and I wish with all honesty that I’d done something like this years ago.”

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