Page 10 of The Side Road
She sighed heavily.
He knew the cause: the stillness, the moonlight and the stars, but he thought there was no harm in asking, and he wanted to keep the conversation going. ‘What’s that sigh for?’
She considered him for a moment and then turned away. ‘I knew you were tall, but I didn’t realise how tall. Six-three? Six-four?’
‘Probably.’
From inside the house came the sound of a momentous crash.
They shared an alarmed glance.
‘I’ll go,’ he said. ‘You stay here and look at the stars.’ Oliver headed inside.
In the kitchen, Troublemaker Flora had run into Leo, who had knocked the tray holding the empty glasses off the table.
For the next half hour, Oliver was busy sweeping shards off the floor.
Perfecting the French exit, Mia slipped away into the night.
4
PASSBOOK
Three hoursafter the impromptu wake started, it ended. The guests had no staying power. Like children with a sugar rush, their excitement plummeted shortly after it peaked. Exhausted, they departed as abruptly as they had arrived.
With a sigh of relief, Oliver closed the front door. After turning the lock, he walked back down the hallway. It felt like midnight, but when he checked the time, it was only nine o’clock.
Restless, he walked into the empty living room and surveyed the decor. It was an old house with minimal furniture. The few pieces scattered about suggested discomfort. Apart from the religious artworks, the walls were bare. Still, the place was rich with pattern. The intricate brickwork around the fireplace. The moulded plaster cornices mirrored waratah flowers and native bottlebrush plants. Above the windows, small, decorative details enlivened the frames. He liked the wide, carved entrance to the living room and the heavy, custom-made woodwork.
The place was stoic, like Elsie. An unhappy woman, shehad taken to ageing as she did to most things, with abhorrence and disdain. Over the years, his relationship with Tash’s maternal grandmother had mellowed. Oliver was civil for Tash’s sake. Elsie didn’t care who she offended.
In the bathroom, her toiletries were gone. He noticed someone had stripped the bed. No glasses or books on her bedside table. A basket of folded washing in the laundry. Blanche and Leo were good people. He was lucky to have them. But coming back was like being pulled in by a riptide. He felt like an island.
Five years ago, when the house had come onto the market, Elsie had suggested he buy it as an investment property. But he knew she wanted to live in it. Before he left for the Kimberley with Tash, he bought the place, and she had moved in. It was her house, even if his name was on the title.
As he headed for the kitchen, he passed Tash’s bedroom. Inside, he heard her crying; the sound tugged at his heart. After knocking on the door, he poked his head into the room. She was sitting on her bed, holding a pair of knitting needles, a mess of wool in her lap.
‘I didn’t realise you were still awake,’ he said. ‘Are you okay?’
‘No.’ With the back of her hand, she wiped the tears from her cheeks. ‘I’ve taken to bed. It’s the grief.’
He sat down on the side of the bed. ‘Come here, bring me all your troubles.’
She wrapped her arms around his neck. ‘I’m glad you’re here.’
‘Me too. I am never leaving you again. If you need anything, let me know.’
She handed him her knitting. ‘Can you fix this? I have a class tomorrow morning. It’s a stupid mess.’
He took the knitting. ‘Sure.’
‘We’re making socks. We’ll be turning the heel next week. I can’t fall behind.’
‘I’ll do my best. Right now, I need a coffee. Where’s it kept?’ Oliver asked.
‘We’re tea people. We don’t drink coffee.’
Oliver stifled a yawn. ‘Okay. What about the internet? My phone won’t connect. Has the passcode changed?’
