Page 45 of Nothing Without You

Enoch and Patsy stood up and started chasing the kids along the beach. ‘My mum lives up there, further in the bush,’ Baker said. ‘C’mon up and you can meet her.’

‘Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude on your family time.’

‘We do this every weekend. Got the entire beach to ourselves. No one ever comes this far, and it’s a private track with a locked gate into my Mum’s place from the other direction. That’s the way we come in from town.’

All of a sudden, a feeling of freedom that she was away from Bob came over her. She smiled at Baker. ‘I’d love to. Yes, I will.’

A narrow, sandy track wound through the dense bush that lined the beach. It was quiet in amongst the trees, and only the sound of birds and the crackling of the leaves under their feet could be heard. Like Baker, she had no shoes on and she enjoyed the feeling of the cool sand beneath her feet. The track reminded her of Stradbroke Island and she breathed deeply, the fresh air and scent of the eucalyptus trees filling her lungs. After a while they came to a clearing. In the middle of it was a shack, a roughly constructed fibro shack that looked like it had stood there forever.

Baker waited until she was next to him. His dark eyes looked fondly at her and she wished, not for the first time, that she wasn’t with Bob. It was as if he read her mind and he touched her on the arm. ‘It’s good to see you, Evie. Nice to see you away from that shop.’

Her chest tightened. ‘It’s really good to see you also. Away from, well you know, not near work.’

‘You know where to find me if you ever need anything, or even if you just want someone to talk to. I, um, well, I know you’re married, but…’

She inhaled sharply. ‘I’m not. I’m not married. We just live together.’

‘Oh. I guess it doesn’t matter though. You’re with him. But like I said, I’m always here for you.’

‘I like you, Baker. I like you a lot. But Bob would kill me if he knew I was even here just talking to you.’

Baker went to say something, but stopped as two of the children came running towards them. ‘Uncle Baker. Come on. Grandma’s waiting. We told her there’s a special visitor.’

Baker cleared his throat and patted her on the shoulder. ‘We’d better go. Mum’ll wonder where I am.’ As they started to follow the kids along a worn path in the grass, Baker filled her in on his family. ‘You wouldn’t believe it, but five of us kids grew up in this house. Mum’s got proper windows and doors now and a new tin roof, but when we were kids there was only a piece of timber that you pushed out, which left an opening that was supposed to be a window.’

‘It’s amazing. You would never know it was here, hidden in the bush.’

‘That’s the way she likes it, and I ask that you don’t talk to anyone about coming here, or about her property. She lives by herself, and although I come and go regularly, we don’t want anyone coming in here annoying her.’

In front of the shack, a lean-to provided some shade from the sun. Underneath it was an assortment of wicker chairs and a small table. Baker’s mum wasn’t sitting on a chair, though. She was on an old mat, sitting cross-legged and looking up at Evie.

‘Mum, this is Evie. She works at the bait shop in town.’

The old woman held her hand out for Evie to shake, her hands dark and weathered, yet with a strong grip as she held Evie’s hand. ‘A special visitor. Welcome. I’m Matilda. Come and sit.’

‘You can sit on a chair if you like,’ Baker said, pushing a chair towards her.

Evie shook her head and sat down on the rug next to Matilda, crossing her legs just like the older woman.

‘You’re making something,’ she asked.

Matilda held up an object she was weaving and Evie could see it was taking the shape of a basket. ‘I am. A basket. Would you like to make one?’

The rest of the family came to join them, and soon everyone was sitting around watching Matilda as she instructed Evie on the finer details of basket weaving. She talked as she worked, telling Evie about where she came from and what the significance of the pattern on the basket was. ‘The design tells a story. It is a story of our people and the spirits of the beach. See here.’ She pointed to a change in colours, interwoven strands that made a pattern that looked like the ocean. ‘This here tells us about a young woman who dances in the waves.’ Her wrinkled finger with its long nail pointed to another pattern in the weave. ‘This tells us when she gets lifted up. Up with the other spirits to make a brave cloud that will take her to safety.’

Evie loved the story. It reminded her of the story her father used to tell of the genie, the magic lamp and the flying carpet.

How she wished she could fly away on a cloud or a flying carpet.

The afternoon passed quickly and she panicked when she asked Baker the time. ‘Four o’clock,’ he replied. ‘You better get a lift with us because it’s over an hour’s walk back to your place, even at a quick pace.’

She jumped up and thanked Matilda. ‘I’d love to come and visit again.’

Matilda took Baker’s offered hand and he helped her up. ‘Please do. I like you, girl. You do good weaving. You come back whenever you want.’

She had only accepted Baker’s lift because he agreed to drop her off before they got to the outskirts of town. That way she could walk back the short distance along the beach. ‘You’re worried about your old man, aren’t you?’ he asked.

Perhaps she should tell Baker she was trying to work out how to leave. How to get somewhere where Bob couldn’t track her down. She noticed that he locked the doors with the key at night now, not just the latch. He kept the keys in the top drawer next to where he slept. She shrugged and decided not to say too much. It was better if no one knew too much about her private life. Her own stupidity had got her into this predicament and she needed to get herself out.

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