Page 54 of Nothing Without You

She felt an urge to scream at the sky, overwhelmed by the turn of events. Nausea churned within her, a sickening realisation dawning as she recognised the source of the explosion. Had Bob managed to escape before the men arrived? The thought gnawed at her. What if she hadn't fled when she did? The unsettling possibilities sent shivers down her spine, and she took one last look at the red glow that had been her life for the past ten years.

Struggling to steady her trembling body, she clenched her fists tightly and climbed the dune to the grassy edge of the beach. Up there, amidst the tall grass, her footprints would be invisible, although she doubted anyone would come looking for her. Determined, she lowered her head and took deep, steadying breaths, fixing her gaze on the vast expanse of ocean before her. Then, without hesitation, she began to run, each stride propelling her forward, away from her tumultuous past and the haunting spectre of Bob. She ran for her life, fleeing the scene of a crime. Running, leaving her past and Bob behind. Running. Running. Running towards the safety of Matilda.

Chapter Sixty-One

It was just over five miles to Matilda’s place, and she was only about halfway when the storm hit. Streaks of lightning ricocheted across the sky, and thunder rumbled so loud the ground shook. She stopped to get her breath, as the wind picked up and the sounds of the waves crashing onto the beach intensified. The sliver of light from the moon cast an eerie glow across the water, and every time the lightning flashed, she could see the waves surging more violently across the beach.

Large drops of rain hit her and she brushed the water from her face, looking down the beach towards where she was headed. The wind intensified, causing the trees along the shore to sway violently, their leaves tearing off and flying in all directions along the sandy expanse. Under different circumstances, she might have felt fear, the elongated shadows of trees and clouds casting eerie, shifting shadows around her. However, her fear had dwindled more and more, the further she put the town behind her.

Here, amid the isolation and wild tempest, removed from the far worse dangers of Bob and his associates, she found unexpected solace. Even the voracious crash of waves upon the shore and the ominous spectacle of lightning streaking across the sky, couldn’t pause the profound sense of tranquillity that now enveloped her. The men who chased Bob wouldn’t find her here. She was one with the wind and rain. The worst had happened, and in her heart she knew that Bob was dead. Her chest tightened and she closed her eyes, letting the now torrential rain pour down her face, finally washing away any last remnants of fear.

So what if they decided to look for her? She no longer cared. Everything she had worked for was gone. Ziggy and his boys would have made sure of that. She wondered if they had hauled Bob out of the shower and beat him up before dowsing the place in petrol and lighting a match? A twinge of guilt pierced her conscience; but she knew that, even if she had tried to warn him, it would have been too late. They had been swift and probably thorough. Who knew if tomorrow they would come looking for her? As she looked up at the moon, she found comfort in her numbness. Nothing mattered. She didn’t care about anything. She was detached, indifferent to the world around her.

Matilda was still up. Through the window, Evie could see her sitting at her dining table doing a jigsaw puzzle. They had worked on it together last week; a one thousand-piece map of Australia. Matilda suddenly lifted her head from the puzzle and stared out through the window. It was as if she knew Evie was there.

Stumbling from the bushes, Evie made her way to the door. There was no need to knock, Matilda had already opened the door, a towel in her hand.

It was warm and dry inside, and for a moment Evie stood there, grasping her bag and staring at the old lady. Her body shook and she hugged herself, trying to find some warmth now that she was inside.

Matilda’s eyes were wide as she passed the towel to her. ‘You did it?’ she asked. ‘Poison?’

It took a while for Evie to register what she was talking about. ‘No. Fate. It was his fate.’

A hot shower and a change into dry clothes were needed. By the time Evie returned to the kitchen, Matilda had the jug on and a stew bubbling on the stove. ‘I’m heating up my leftovers. It’s a crazy night to be out on the beach. You must have run real fast.’ Evie sipped her cup of tea and ate the stew, using a piece of bread to wipe the last vestiges from her plate.

‘Ziggy and those other fellas think I was at the resort. I’m not sure what would’ve happened if I’d been in the house when they came. I think, well I know that…’

‘Go on girl. What do you think?’

‘I heard them talking. They thought I was on the island, working. I think they’ve killed Bob.’

A sharp intake of breath signalled that Matilda was listening.

‘I saw an explosion or something when I was on the beach.’

‘Did those men see you at all?’

‘No.’

‘You did the right thing coming here. I’ll make up the lounge for you to sleep on, and we can work out what to do in the morning. Maybe your Bob isn’t dead.’

‘Maybe.’

Chapter Sixty-Two

The sound of Matilda in the kitchen, along with the filtered light coming in through the casement window in the lounge, woke Evie the next morning. At first, she took a while to work out where she was, and then the events of the night before came flooding back. Peering around the room, she looked at the collection of artwork and woven baskets that hung on the walls. Colourful crocheted rugs covered the worn lounge chairs and a long table made out of a huge slab of driftwood acted as a coffee table that stood near to where she had slept. Beautiful shells and different pieces of coral cluttered its surface. She wished her life consisted of roaming the beaches and collecting interesting items, or spending the day weaving and painting. As much as she wanted to close her eyes and go back to sleep, to pretend that nothing had happened, she knew that sooner or later she would need to face the day.

She sat up, and her body froze as she listened to the sound of a vehicle approaching the house. Matilda was at the kitchen sink and she peered through the window. ‘It’s okay. It’s Baker.’

Even if she had wanted to move, she couldn’t. Her nerves were stretched and she held her breath, staring hard at the front door as Baker unlocked it and came into the house.

He was in his uniform and his appearance gave her a sense of security. He had a gun. Even if they came looking for her here, he would protect her. ‘Thank God you’re here,’ he said, walking towards her.

‘She came in the storm last night,’ Matilda said. ‘I’ll put the jug on.’

Baker leaned down and put his hand on Evie’s shoulder. ‘Are you okay? I came here as soon as I could. What the hell happened?’

By the time she finished telling him the story of last night, Matilda had the table set for breakfast. ‘C’mon, let’s eat.’

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