Page 63 of Nothing Without You

‘It’s your house.’

Her heart leapt when he asked, ‘Do you want me to leave?’

‘No. No. Come in. I’ll get you a towel and you can dry off.’

Evie showered quickly and changed into dry clothes. Chris had found a spare T-shirt in his car and he had wrapped the towel she had given him around his waist, his wet shorts hanging on the veranda railing. The rain persisted, its steady drumming echoing on the veranda where they sat, both transfixed by the sight of water cascading from the heavens. Puddles began to gather in the yard, a testament to the deluge that showed no signs of abating.

‘Would you like a beer?’ she asked.

‘Love one.’

They sat and had a beer together, and he told her where he had been and about his business. ‘You’ve done well for yourself, Chris. I saw your shop when I was at Point Lookout. I’ve got a job at the bait shop.’

‘At Bert’s.’

‘Yes.’

‘He’s a good friend of mine. Did you tell him you knew me?’

‘No. I just said I was living at Flinders. He didn’t ask me where.’

Silence wrapped around them for a while, the steady sound of the rain on the tin roof echoing in unison with her thoughts. Chris’s words stirred her from her daydreaming. ‘So, what happened, Evie? What was it in Yeppoon that sent you running to Rose’s place?’

Stretching her legs out in front of her, she sipped her beer, watching the rivulets of water running from the overflowing gutters. ‘The fella, Bob, who I was with, was involved in drugs. I knew he was, but I didn’t know any more than that. Luckily, I didn’t know much about what was going on. They killed him. The fellas that he worked with. He was dealing behind their backs and skimming their money. They burnt the flat and our business down—nothing was left, except ashes. I was at a friend’s place; an old lady who lived a long way down the beach. I was lucky. Bob wasn’t. I walked away with the clothes on my back and a few mementos. I had a bit of money. Not much. But I was messed up. I felt…’ She stopped, a lump in her throat stopping her from going any further.

His voice was soft, as he leaned forward. ‘Go on. It’s okay.’

‘I feel so ashamed of my life. Of the decisions I’ve made over the years.’

‘Is that why you didn’t go to your parents for help? I know they would do anything for you.’

‘It is. I had so many years away from them when I first left home. How could I tell them what happened? I’ve let them know I’m safe and no longer with him, but I’ll wait until I’m ready to tell them the truth.’ The twisted truth, she thought. No one but her, Matilda and Baker, would ever know what really happened.

‘You did the right thing, ringing Rose. I want you to stay here for as long as you want. I don’t need rent. I know you’re paying some, but I don’t want it.’

‘I’m never going to lean on anyone for anything. I’ll pay rent until I find something more affordable. You could get three times as much, renting this cottage out to holidaymakers.’

‘Evie, I own six houses on the island, including my own, which is way too big for just me. Please just stay here and live in it. It makes no difference to me. Pay a small amount if it makes you feel better, but really, I don’t care.

Coiling her wet hair up into a messy bun on the top of her head, she noticed him watching her. For a moment, they locked eyes, but then she looked away. ‘Thanks for the offer. I’ll see.’

She stood on the veranda for a long while after he left. On the radio, a mournful love song was playing, and she clicked the button to ‘off’ a little harder than needed. It was strange seeing Chris again, sitting together and talking. So many years had passed, and now there was a gap between them. He was a successful businessman with a collection of houses, and she had four hundred, twenty-five dollars and thirty-five cents to her name.

Bert was perched on his stool behind the counter and Evie was standing next to him, sorting out old jars full of sinkers and hooks, when Chris walked in the store. He looked like he belonged here on the island, she thought. His legs were tanned, and he wore the same pair of old boardshorts and faded T-shirt he had worn a few days earlier. ‘Chris, me mate. Good to see you back,’ Bert said as he stood up and offered his hand to Chris over the counter.

They gripped each other’s hand, while patting one another on the shoulder. ‘Good to see you,’ Chris said. ‘You’re looking well.’

Bert sat back down. His legs had been giving him trouble lately, and Evie was trying to get him to go and see a doctor. He tilted his head and gestured towards Evie. ‘This is my new worker, Evie. Evie, meet Chris.’

Evie continued sorting the sinkers, only looking up when she spoke. ‘We already know each other. We went to school together.’

‘What? That’s crazy,’ Bert exclaimed.

Evie passed him a drink of water; the hot day was playing havoc with his breathing. ‘We used to holiday here at the same time when we were kids. I always caught more and bigger fish than Chris, though.’

Chris laughed, a loud chuckle that echoed throughout the shop. ‘You want to watch out, because I’m just about to go fishing. I’ll bring back my catch and show you both. Now, what have you got new in the way of rods, Bert? I’m after a special one.’

Bert sipped his water. ‘Ask your mate here. She’s more up on the stock than me these days. Evie, show Chris that new order of Daiwa surf rods you got in. He’s got plenty of money. Go for the most expensive.’

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