Page 44 of Nothing Without You

This time she didn’t need to lie. Falling pregnant was her worst nightmare. Although she assured Bob that she wasn’t taking any precautions, and didn’t understand why she hadn’t become pregnant, nothing was surer or done with more precision than taking that little white pill every night. ‘I’ve got that under control. I’m with you, Mum. I don’t want to have a baby.’

It was enough trouble trying to keep her head above water, never mind looking after a baby. Bob had nagged her over the last year. ‘I want a son. Someone to carry on my name. C’mon, babe. Try a bit harder.’

Her pill packet was hidden with the money she’d saved and a few personal items she didn’t want him to find. A small photo album, a couple of trinkets and a few pieces of jewellery were the only remnants of her former life, and she didn’t want to lose them. Bob would be stupid enough to think the jewellery was worth hocking. The gold bangle her parents had given her for her twenty-first birthday was also in the hidden bag. She wasn’t taking any chances. He wasn’t only nasty, controlling and bad-tempered, he was also very sneaky.

Today he was in one of his bad moods. There was a yacht race happening around the islands nearby and the shop was busy. He was annoyed that he needed to stay and help, as there were already people queued up to be served.

‘Get that box of tackle from out the back,’ he yelled to her. ‘You’re keeping people waiting.’

The box was heavy, and she struggled to lift and carry it from the storeroom back to the counter. When she passed the window, she caught a glimpse of herself, and she cursed her hair, which had come loose from its tie and was hanging on her shoulders. This morning, she hadn’t much choice in what to wear, as their washing machine was broken again, and she hadn’t had time to get to the laundromat.

She’d copped abuse from Bob because of the lack of clean clothes. ‘What the fuck do you do all day? How am I supposed to work when you haven’t even done the washing?’ His anger had escalated over the past couple of weeks, and it was obvious something more than the usual annoyances was bothering him. She wondered if he had got in too deep with the drug group. There was a bigger mob who had moved up from Sydney and were trying to run the whole show with the local dealers. She heard Ziggy refer to them one day in the shop.

‘They think they’re top shit and they’re trying to take over our turf. Well, they’ve got a fight on their hands, because we were here first.’

Now, as she struggled with the heavy box of tackle, she glimpsed Bob walking outside with one of his mates, who was after some bait. The crowd in the shop had thinned and she took a deep breath as she put the box down on the counter, turned around and looked up into the face of a man who was waiting to be served.

A sharp intake of breath gave her time to work out if she was seeing right. The man also looked as surprised as she did. His voice was deep and as soon as he spoke, she knew it was him. ‘Evie?’

‘Chris?’

They stared at each other and she quickly pushed her hair back from her face and tried to straighten her T-shirt. Her hands were filthy from the dirt on the box and she held them behind her back, embarrassed about how she must look. ‘What are you doing here?’

He smiled and her heart pounded. ‘I could ask you the same.’

‘I live here. This is our bait shop.’

For a moment, everything ceased to exist, and it was just Chris and her looking straight at each other. ‘It’s been years.’ His eyes grew sad, and his voice was husky when he spoke again. ‘You never said goodbye.’

She attempted to speak, but the words eluded her. In comparison to how she must look, he appeared relaxed and dressed for a day out on the water. It struck her how effortlessly composed he appeared. He exuded a sense of ease and charm, unlike her with her inner turmoil. He was still as gorgeous looking as ever. He was no longer a gangly teenager; his body was fit and strong, his arms muscly and tanned. Blond hair that had once hung long was now shorter, and his face carried a maturity that set her heart racing.

Suddenly, Bob yelled at her from outside. ‘Evie, what the hell are you doing? Ziggy’s waiting for the sinkers in that box. Get your fat arse out here!’

Her face burned as she reached into the box and pulled a jar of sinkers out. She wished she could disappear and not have to look back up at Chris, who was standing waiting with a hat to purchase in his hand. ‘Your boss?’ he asked.

Bob appeared behind Chris, and reached over the counter to grab the jar of sinkers. He handed them to Ziggy who was right behind him. ‘Wifey is bloody slow this morning. Maybe I’ll sack her.’ Bob laughed when he spoke to Ziggy, but she could tell from the look on his face when he turned back to her that he wasn’t happy.’

‘You right, mate?’ he asked Chris. ‘She’ll serve you.’

Chris’s face fell and he looked at Evie again, slowly passing the hat over. ‘I’m here with some mates on the yacht Glenda-Lee. We’re favourites to win.’

She tried to smile, but her face was frozen as memories of her life at Beaudesert and Stradbroke Island, before her world blew apart, came flooding back. ‘Great. That’s great.’

When she passed the hat back to him, their eyes locked. His voice was low and gravelly. ‘I’d love to catch up with you, Evie. Maybe after the yacht race is finished.’

Her eyes darted to Bob, who was coming back from outside. ‘I can’t. Too busy. Nice to see you.’

Another customer behind Chris was getting impatient, and he took the hat, nodding at her before turning and walking out the door. She focussed on what the next customer wanted, only looking up when she was sure Chris was out of the shop. His back was still visible, and she stared at the bright blue sailing shirt with the name of a boat embroidered on it. When he got onto the footpath and to the edge of the pavement, he turned to take one last look at her. Their eyes held for a moment, and then he was gone.

Chapter Fifty-Two

That night, she tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Her head was full of dreams and thoughts about Chris. She got out of bed and stood at the bedroom window, watching the full moon rise higher, the golden orb bright in the clear Queensland sky. She needed to get away—away from Yeppoon, away from the bait shop and, most of all, away from Bob.

On Sunday afternoon she walked southwards along the beach. There weren’t many people along the stretch of wide sand, and the further she walked the more isolated she became. A few people fished along the shoreline, their long surf rods cast out into the ocean that today was calm and glassy.

In the distance, she could see a group of people, and when she got closer, she was surprised to see Baker among them. He raised his hand and waved, and she approached where they sat in the sand. ‘G’day Evie. This is my brother, Enoch, and his wife, Patsy, and their mob.’ She nodded in greeting, laughing at the four children who were all naked and splashing in the shallows of the cool water.

‘You’re a long way along the beach,’ she said. ‘I don’t usually walk this far, but I needed a good stretch today.’ She didn’t add that she needed to clear her head, so that she could try and work out how she was going to escape from Yeppoon.

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