The Sunburnt Country (24 page)

Dan smiled. ‘No. Not really. But back then she hurt me so bad. I felt for Dad and I went with him. But after a while she stopped calling, just like that. As if I never existed.’ Jonelle had a way of holding his attention and making him see things in a different light. He wondered how long it would be until he’d forget about her, before work and being back in the city made this whole time in Bundara seem like a distant memory. Right now he couldn’t imagine that happening, not soon, not ever.

Jonelle was staring out at the setting sun. Its dying rays kissed her skin, feathering it with gold. He wished he could press his lips against her soft cheeks, then down to her mouth.

‘Did you know him, or ever meet him?’ she asked, turning, and moving her face out of the golden rays.

Dan shuddered and forced himself to concentrate. ‘I did. He was Cam’s footy coach. He was always dropping Cam home after the games if Mum was busy and Dad was working. I think he volunteered his time at the club because his nephew played.’

‘So maybe your mum had her reasons for the affair?’

‘Yeah, maybe. But how could she leave her own kid?’ No matter how many times he’d tried to come to terms with this, it still hurt. Dan plucked at the grass. ‘Dad always said that it was Mum who tore our family apart and I always believed him, but maybe Dad had already done the damage by putting his work first. Your folks are so different. I realise how alone Mum must have felt, and if I’m honest, I also remember them arguing over him not being home enough. But Mum must have kept it to herself as I never remember her complaining to us about Dad.’

‘She was shielding you. She was being a good mother by not spoiling your relationship with your father.’

Pity Dad hadn’t thought to show the same grace in return,
Dan thought.

Jonelle reached across and touched his hand.

Dan laced his fingers through hers, holding them tight. ‘I guess. I wonder if Dad would have done anything different, tried any harder to be a better husband if he’d known the divorce was coming. I’ll never know, but then again, Dad hasn’t changed a bit the whole time I’ve known him.’

‘Some people don’t like change.’

Dan lay back on his side, facing Jonelle, who did the same. ‘You’re one of those people, Jonelle.’ She pulled a face and shrugged. ‘It’s okay to cling onto the past but sometimes you have to move forward, too. I know you love this place and your workshop, but if you don’t change something, you’ll risk losing it all. That money you put in the bank is only going to go so far. Unless it rains tomorrow, you won’t have the business to keep up your repayments. You can’t just expect everything to work out, Jonelle, Mother Nature isn’t like that. You think you’re trying to hold it all together, keep your community from changing so it stays the way you love it, but in the end, sometimes, you can’t stop it.’

She nodded. ‘Change is coming whether I like it or not, right? And I know I need to do something, find another way to get some income, but you’re right, it means change and I hate change.’

They lay side by side, barely a foot apart. Dan reached across to touch her hand again. ‘I really want to kiss you.’ It was a passionate whisper.

He was rewarded with a smile, but it was the one she gave when she was sad.

‘I feel the same.’

‘And I feel a
but
coming,’ he said, studying her melancholy eyes.

‘
But
,’ she sighed, ‘if we do, it’s only going to make things harder. I don’t know about you, but it’s already hard enough for me. You’ll be leaving so soon.’

‘I know. This was only ever a two-month gig.’ Dan pulled out his mobile. ‘Smile.’ Then he captured her picture, so stunning in the golden glow. ‘Now I can take you back with me.’ He glanced at the photo he’d taken and then to the real-life version. Oh, he knew which one he’d prefer to take. ‘Are you sure you won’t come back with me? There’s plenty of work going and you can live with me.’

‘Ah yes, and we could take turns cooking and walking our dog.’

‘We’d have a dog?’

‘Yes, a labrador called Digger and maybe some fish.’

Dan smiled, enjoying this plan.

‘But I’d much rather you live out here with me, then I wouldn’t miss my brothers and Renae and Ryan so much.’

‘I have friends I’d miss too.’

‘Do you? I’ve never heard you talk about them. They haven’t come to visit you while you’ve been here.’

‘My mate Josh called me just the other day to see when I’d be back. Josh wouldn’t drive out here. None of my mates would. It’s too far away.’

‘Yet we go to the city all the time to visit family and friends.’

She had him there. But it was just different.

‘What is your life like in the city?’ she asked, leaning back on her elbows.

Dan shrugged. ‘Well, I go to work and afterwards I head to the gym with my mate Marcus most nights. On weekends I might go out with Josh and Marcus for drinks at a few places that we like. We all went to school together and there was another mate, Scott, but he’s married with kids now. I’m actually a godparent to his son Harley, so I like going over there to spend some time with him.’

‘Really. How old is he?’

Dan smiled as he thought of Harley. He’d sent Scott some emails a few weeks back with some photos from around Bundara and of the kangaroo he’d seen near the lookout. He thought Harley would get a kick out of that. ‘He’s seven. His sister Lacey is five. Wait till I show him the photos of you racing, he’ll love them.’ Jonelle was smiling at him strangely. ‘What?’

‘Nothing. It’s just nice hearing this side of you. I know nothing of your life yet you know all about mine, even my bank balance,’ she joked. ‘So what happens when you go back?’

‘I was going to say work as usual but I applied for this new position at the bank, which I got —’

‘Well done you!’

‘Thank you. It’s better pay, a much higher position and ticks all the boxes. Also Marcus is doing a triathlon soon, so I’ll be back to cheer him on.’

They fell quite for a while and Dan wondered what Jonelle thought about his life in Perth. Would she be wondering if she could fit into that world? He wondered if maybe after he’d left she might change her mind and come find him. Considering they’d only know each other a short time, he doubted she’d give up everything she loved just for him. But dreams were free.

‘Will today be the last time I see you?’ she said, her voice wavering.

He shook his head slowly. ‘I couldn’t leave Bundara without seeing you again. I’ll be off on Friday. I’ll find you.’

Dan wondered if her chest hurt as much as his did. He knew he had to go back to Perth, he knew he had to leave Jonelle, he knew life would go back to the way it used to be, but it still didn’t stop the ache and the horrible feeling that he was leaving something magical behind in the tiny town of Bundara.

AFTER
a few days off for Christmas, Jonelle found going back to work hard. Even harder when what was staring her in the face was a pile of book work. Leaning back in her chair, she put her boots up on the desk and crinkled some bills underfoot. She wasn’t worried, half her invoices went out smudged with dirt and grease anyway.
That’s what you get when you can’t afford any office staff
, she thought. She put her hands behind her head as she stretched out. It was hot in the office. She’d taken off her overalls and was in her shorts and singlet, but sitting still in the heat was making her sweat. She stared at the opposite wall, counting the daddy-long-legs spiders that had accumulated there.

With a sigh, she dropped her legs from the desk and scooted forward to study the bills next to the bulky computer, which whined noisily. Lifting up a bank statement, she glared at it. ‘This sucks.’ Thanks to the sale of the Torana she had given herself some breathing space. God, that was a painful day. Just seeing the out-of-towner pull up to her workshop with the empty trailer on his car made her heart sink. He was young, about twenty-two, and she’d been so worried her Torrie wouldn’t be looked after. ‘Man, this is a sweet ride. She’s everything you said.’

Jonny had just nodded as the guy in the reflective sunnies and baggy jeans touched her car. The top of his underwear had been showing but that must have been the look he was going for.

‘I’ll take it,’ he’d said pulling out his chequebook. Jonny had wanted to refuse him the car but no matter how hard this was, she had to do it. She’d taken a long glance at her workshop, then back to the Torana and then back to the workshop. The car had to go. Holding out her hand she’d accepted the sale. Watching her beloved orange Torana leave her forever had brought a few tears and once she started she’d found it hard to stop. Why did life have to be so hard?

But even with that money it wasn’t going to hold off the bank for long. It was just like Dan said – she had to do something. She needed more work, more money coming in, and selling the workshop was not an option. She threw the statement off her desk in disgust and watched as it fluttered to the floor, landing on a shiny shoe.

Daniel reached down and picked it up. ‘Want me to burn it?’ he said with a smile.

‘Not going to fix my problem, though, right?’

Dan stepped up to her desk, his aftershave wafting across to her. It was like she’d skolled a Red Bull. All her senses sprang awake. He was dressed for work, in slacks and a crisp shirt. He was like a shiny new bolt in a collection of dirty, greasy ones. Maybe that was another reason he stood out to her, he was different to the other scruffy fellas in town.

‘You ready to leave?’ she asked.

When he nodded, she stood up and walked to his side of the desk.

‘A shame you can’t stay for New Year’s Eve. They’re having a big bash at the hall but Ryan and Renae don’t want to go, so Zac suggested we have our own one here. They loved the idea, so we’re having a shed bash. Or a Piss Off 2012 bash,’ she said with a weak smile.

‘You look a little worn out,’ he said, reaching for her shoulder.

His touch was gentle, caring. They’d been trying so hard to keep their distance, not wanting to fall into bed and make this moment any harder. It’s why he hadn’t come back for Boxing Day.

‘Hey, where have you put the Torana? She’s not in her usual spot. I thought I’d better get a photo for Harley before I go.’

Jonny frowned, her lips curving down. She couldn’t say it. She felt like a mother who had just sold her child to stay alive. Maybe a bit dramatic but the Torrie was her baby.

‘The cheque! Jonelle, did you sell your car?’ His face was grim.

‘Hmm, let’s not talk about this now. You’re leaving. That’s sad enough.’ She looked across at his face, which was filled with sorrow.

Stepping closer, he touched a strand of her hair. ‘I feel like a different bloke. This place is pretty special and I can see why you cling to it so hard.’

‘Please stay,’ she blurted. Her life was turning to shit, her car sold, she was about to lose her workshop and now Daniel was leaving. This man who had more of her heart than she’d like to admit. ‘You said yourself Bundara is special and you fit in well here. Zac thinks you’re great and so do I. Please, won’t you stay? Let’s give us a go. We could be really good together.’

He actually looked like someone had stabbed him with a pen. ‘Jonelle, I have a new job to go to. I have a career . . . I can’t stay.’

‘What . . . not even for me?’ Something was sucking the air out of her lungs. She would not cry. She would not let him know just how invested she’d become.

His hands tightened on her arms, slowly pushing her away. ‘Bundara is suffering, businesses are closing. I don’t want to work at the bank. What else is there for me here?’ Jonny tried not to let the pain from his comment show. ‘It would be more practical if you came with me to Perth. You’re going to lose your business if things don’t get better, so why not have a fresh start with me?’ Dan smiled as he nodded, a plan brewing in his mind. ‘Yes, see! You could get a job in the city and we can do everything we planned at Christmas. Doesn’t that sound better?’

Jonny’s shoulders dropped. ‘No. This is my home. I have family here and I can’t walk away from them. I’d be depressed in the city; I can’t even handle a week without feeling like a caged animal. It would be better for you to stay.’ Jonny crossed her arms.

‘Yeah, maybe for you. I like how you think it’d be so easy for me to give up my life to stay here.’ Dan ran his hand through his hair. ‘We’ve only known each other a few months, it’d be ridiculous.’

‘So, you think what we have is nothing?’ Jonny waved her finger between them as her voice squeaked with emotion. ‘There’s nothing worth fighting for here?’

‘I don’t see you wanting to fight for it.’ There was venom in his words and his eyes swam with pain.

Jonny was furious. ‘You’re right. You can’t make me choose between what I’ve loved my whole life compared to something that’s
nothing
!’ she spat, wanting to hurt him as much as he was hurting her. Didn’t he know he was grinding her heart with the sole of his well-polished shoe? She turned away from him and crossed her arms, her chest heaving like she’d just sprinted down the street.

‘Yeah, I guess not.’ His voice was a whisper.

With a sigh that almost reverberated off the tin walls, Dan walked towards the door. Jonny heard his car door close with a clang and the motor start. She wanted to turn around, to see him one last time, but her pride stopped her. If only he would stride back, take her in his arms and say that they did have something worth fighting for. She heard his tyres crunch on the gravel and then there was nothing but the wind rattling the tin roof and a shed full of loss and devastating sadness.

HOME
sweet home. Dan chucked his car keys on the kitchen bench. They skidded along the smooth granite. His feet sank into the soft grey carpet as he took in the space. Why did his place suddenly feel cold, empty and strange? He roamed around his house, turning on some lights, using the bathroom, putting the television on so it didn’t seem so quiet. Feeling lost, Dan walked over to the kitchen, filled up his kettle and switched it on. While he was waiting for it to boil he pulled out his phone and flicked through his photos. It had been a long trip back to Perth, the road stretching for hours.

He paused on a photo. It was of the road out of Bundara with its dilapidated sign. It may have been a silly nostalgic thing to do but he’d felt he needed a keepsake. Bloody Jonelle had rubbed off on him. The blue-grey bitumen stretched ahead with bare brown paddocks on either side right up to the centre of town. Pale yellow grasses edged the road. But the sky above Bundara went on forever, so open and so many shades of blue. Funny how all those things could turn a simple photo into something quite amazing.

He flicked his finger across the phone and brought up another photo. Jonelle. Just seeing her green eyes and her skin glowing in the light of that fabulous sunset hurt his chest. No, he was wrong, it wasn’t just his chest. His whole body ached for her. He had a connection with Jonelle, some weird but amazing attraction that had seeped right into his soul and he’d called it
nothing
! Of course it had been something, right now his body was screaming at him as if it had lost a limb. But he had to move on, right? God knows how long he stared at her picture; it must have been a while because one of the removalist guys had opened his door, announced his arrival and let himself in to drop a box on the table. He was a big man with an arched back, probably from years of carrying stuff. His name was Bob or Bill, or something like that.

‘Oh, thanks.’ With a heavy sigh, he put down his phone and went to help the guys unpack his stuff.

‘Where do you want the bed and the cupboards?’ asked the removalist after they’d unloaded all of the smaller stuff. They stood out the front in his short driveway in the late afternoon as some of his neighbours returned from work. He lived just out of the city in a tiny block in Northbridge where everything now seemed so compact. He’d never noticed it before. The street seemed barely wide enough for a single car to pass, and there was no space at all between the houses – wall to wall, some of them were. God, Zac would hate it here after living with so much open space. So much freedom.

Bill or Bob cleared his throat, still waiting for an answer.

‘Oh, would you mind dropping it off at the Salvo’s store for me? I don’t need any of it.’

The guy with the monobrow and dark skin tilted his head. ‘You sure? It looks brand new.’

‘It practically is, but like I said, I don’t need it.’ Dan thanked him and walked back inside. He hoped the guy would honour his wishes and not keep it or sell it himself.

Sitting down on his leather lounge, Dan looked at his watch. He didn’t feel like eating, which was a good thing as his fridge was empty, but maybe he’d get a takeaway pizza tonight and then go to bed. He ate out quite a bit. Why bother cooking for one? Besides, tonight he felt too exhausted for much else – more mentally than physically. His brain hadn’t stopped the whole drive back, thinking about his time at Bundara and how two months could feel like a lifetime. His body felt uncomfortable and out of whack, as if he’d just flown from France. Leaving had been so much harder than he’d thought it would be. His phone rang, shaking him out of his daze. ‘Hello?’

‘Mate, are you back yet? Do you need a hand unpacking? I can come around? Say in five minutes, maybe ten?’

Dan smiled at the sound of Marcus’s voice. He was just like he sounded, full of energy. Trying to keep that man still was impossible, hence why he was competing in a triathlon.

‘I’ve just got home and I’m already unpacked.’ A slight lie but what he had to do wouldn’t take long. ‘I’m a bit buggered after the drive, though. Do you wanna catch up another day?’ To tell the truth, Dan just didn’t feel like company. If Marcus came over it would mean he had fully merged back into city life and it would push the last two months in Bundara further into his past. He didn’t want it to feel like it was years ago that he’d been there. Already the thin threads were slipping out of his grasp as life returned to normal.

‘Sure, Dan, sounds like a plan.’

They chatted for another ten minutes, having a brief catch up, before Dan hung up. It was good to hear from Marcus, he had an infectious enthusiasm for life. But out of all his mates, Scott was the one he’d talk to about Jonelle, if he wanted to talk about her with someone. Scott, being married, had a better understanding than his other two single mates. But he wasn’t sure if he could mention her name yet without it hurting.

After a shower, Dan headed to bed and slept heavily, thanks to the comfort of being back in his own bed The cars heading off to work woke him early. Funny, considering that during his first week in Bundara he hadn’t slept because it was so quiet. He’d missed the sounds of the traffic to start with. Sitting out the front of his little Bundara house, he’d enjoyed his morning coffee listening to the birds and the wind in the trees, and if he was lucky, he might have seen someone drive down the street.

It was strange how things just didn’t seem right back home. It was obviously going to take some time to settle back in.

He threw off his covers and got up. After dressing in shorts and the T-shirt he’d got from Bundara, he decided to go to his favourite café up the road for his usual latte and croissant. Then he’d need to go food shopping. Surely a full fridge would make him feel happier to be home.

Grabbing his wallet, he headed out the door. It was just a short walk and the moment he entered the quaint older building the smell of real coffee awoke his senses.

‘A latte and a croissant?’ asked the young girl behind the counter. With her dark hair and piercings, she instantly reminded him of Gemma. He hoped Gemma was okay.

‘Yes, thanks. You’ve got a good memory, I haven’t been around for months,’ he said, handing over his money.

‘Well, you’ve been coming here for as long as I’ve had this job,’ she said with a smile. ‘And that’s over six months.’

‘Oh. Well, I’m Daniel. Dan. Nice to meet you . . .’

‘Geri,’ she said.

‘Hi, Geri. Thanks. I’ll be . . .’

‘Over in the corner at your usual spot?’

Dan smiled. Geri must have been around Gemma’s age but she was more outgoing and more confident. She was tall and gangly, like a model.

He took his change and jammed it back into his wallet as he sat down at his usual table by the large window in the corner of the exposed brick walls. He couldn’t tell you the number of times he’d stared through the glass, watching people and cars go by. Opposite the shop was another old building that had been turned into a business and beside it sat an old cottage. It hadn’t been renovated, like some of the houses in this prime real-estate area. Its rustic red bricks, bullnosed verandah and old chimney were hidden behind a screen of frangipani trees and a creeper. He’d seen the old lady who lived there out in her tiny garden from time to time, tending to her roses.
Her house was probably heritage listed
, he mused.

‘Here you are,’ said Geri, putting down his order. Her nails were painted black and she had a tiny tattoo on her wrist, a star of some sort.

‘Thanks, Geri.’ Dan realised how much nicer it was now that he knew the girl’s name. ‘So, are you from around here?’ he asked, nodding out the window.

‘Not originally. I’m from Narrogin. I’m flatting with a few friends while we go to TAFE,’ she said with her hands on her hips.

‘Really. I was in Narrogin recently. Small world, hey?’

‘Sure is.’ Geri saw the growing queue at the counter. ‘Work calls. I’ll catch ya later, Dan,’ she said with a friendly grin before ducking back to the customers.

Dan picked up his latte, enjoying its rich flavour. So much better than instant. It’s funny how just having a friendly chat to Geri had improved his morning. Usually it was such an effort to avoid people and stay in his own bubble that he hadn’t realised life was easier just being sociable.

As he munched on his croissant, he studied the little house over the road. The old lady appeared in her large straw hat and gloves with secateurs in hand. Her hips were wide in her floral dress and her steps were almost a wonky shuffle. Dan wondered how long she had lived there. Her whole life? Had she had kids and raised them all there too? As he stared at her, clipping the dead rose heads off, he thought of his mother and how she used to do the same.

Right then it hit him, a sudden urge to see his old home, the one that held all his good childhood memories. He remembered Jonelle’s words about not having a picture of his old house and now it felt like something he needed. Right now, he wanted that photo more than anything. He wanted his home to feel warm and welcoming like the Baxters’ house.

He finished his breakfast and waved goodbye to Geri, then headed home for his car. He took Beaufort Street out to Bayswater, guided by his memories. As he slowly passed the houses he began to remember them, even though some of them had changed. He pulled up out the front of the most familiar one of them all. The roses were still blooming along the front fence, and he wondered whether the new owners would have kept the roses out the back, too. The lawn looked well trimmed, and the birdbath still stood proudly as the centrepiece. Dan recalled running around and around it playing chasey. He got out of his car so he could take a photo. He hoped no one thought he looked too suspicious.

He leant on his car and took a few snaps. The dark tiles on the roof looked like they’d been repainted recently and the driveway had been newly paved. The old handprints in the concrete that he and Cam had put there must be landfill now. At least the house had been loved.

‘Daniel?’

Dan turned to the voice at the side of the kerb where a lady was walking a dog. Only it wasn’t just any lady.

‘Mum.’ Just seeing her brought all his anger to the surface. She was here all along, just walking her dog. He’d half hoped that maybe she’d moved or had some good reason for never coming to find him. Yet here she was. Why had she let him go? Had she stopped loving him? It was too much. Staggering backwards he moved towards his car.

‘Daniel, wait!’ she called, but it was too late. He had the car started and was off down the road, his pulse thumping in his veins louder than the tick of the motor. He watched her in the rear-view mirror, standing dumbly by the side of the road. Not even a step towards his departing car. Just like usual, she never tried to come after him.