Page 3 of Wings Above the Mallee

‘No.’ Heath tried to blank out everything that had happenedbefore.Everything, that was, except the parts he wanted to cling to, forever playing them on repeat as though it would make up for not paying enough attention back then. ‘What’s with all the kids hanging around?’

‘All five of them, you mean? Easter holidays, remember.’

Of course. That’s why Charlee was coming home. Except he hadn’t put two and two together, hadn’t realised that was why Charlee was coming home. Hadn’t, in fact, thought beyond the pain her appearance would cause, the scars that would reopen, the blame game that unfolded like a Monopoly board every time he saw her.

Even though there was no blame to apportion. Heknewthat. Knew he’d made the right choice, the only possible choice. Yet, if that was true, why did guilt keep him awake at night? Why was the pain almost as raw as it had been two years ago?

Heath scowled, knowing the answer to the conundrum that played on repeat in his head: the pain would never ease because it had truly been Sophie’s choice.

A flock of sparrows swooped to squabble at a food scrap one of the teens had dropped, cartwheeling and twittering across the road in a flurry of ruffled feathers and flapping wings. Sean chuckled. It was typical that he’d still find joy in such moments. But then his disposition had always been different to Heath’s. Sean said that was because Heath took after his mother, but he’d never known her. Instead, he’d grown up with his stepmum, Jill. But she was dead now, too.

‘Anyway,’ Sean said, ‘Doc Hartmann said they’re not having much luck, because most med school graduates aren’t keen to head out into the country to set up as a GP. They’re chasing the dollar and shorter hours, so going into a specialised field is more appealing than the slog of general practice.’

‘Were you paying this doctor?’

‘Of course. Why?’

‘Sounds like she was hitting you up for free life coaching.’

He was joking, but Sean nodded consideringly. ‘You know, there might be a space for something like that here.’

‘Thought you were supposed to be retired?’

Sean tapped his forehead. ‘Use it or lose it.’ He stopped to read the flyers on the door of a shop.

Heath had rarely seen the postal outlet-cum-dry-cleaning agent open, but obviously locals got in there often enough to sticky tape their adverts and news items on the door. A litter of kittens were looking for new homes, there was asecond-hand tumble dryer for sale and a piano to give away. The Country Women’s Association had an AGM advertised, but the date was before Christmas just gone. A business card for a local Tupperware distributor hung crookedly between a notice about community submissions on repurposing a block of land, and an ad for line dancing in the old bank at the top of Main Street. That was the other bank, which didn’t open two half-days a week, he presumed.

‘It’s rural here, but not exactly remote, so I don’t really see why graduates would have an issue. Don’t they have to do a two-year internship or something like that, anyway?’

‘No idea. Sounds like you’ve watched too much TV.’

Not recently. He didn’t have one in his side of their place. Though he and Sophie had lovedHouse, back in the day. ‘Guess not everyone’s up for the fresh country air,’ he said sarcastically as a milk tanker laboured up from the dilapidated bridge spanning the Murray River, trailing the stench of cow crap fresh from the road outside the dairy where the cattle crossed twice daily.

When Heath had first moved here, he’d made the mistake of forcing himself back behind the wheel; living in the country, it was impractical not to drive. But last winter the cow shit covering that section of road had been as slippery as ice, and his LandCruiser had slewed dangerously close to the metre-deep irrigation channels that bordered the road. Afterwards, he wondered if he should have embraced the moment; divine intervention wasn’t the same as suicide. But at the time, instinct had kicked in and he’d eased off both the brake and accelerator, allowing the car to aquaplane until it found the security of gravel beyond the slick. He hadn’t driven since.

‘Early lunch?’ Heath tipped his head toward the pubs at the lower end of the street. The last time he’d been intown—ironically, the previous school holidays, just after Christmas—there’d been a local farmer in the IGA who’d tried to initiate a conversation. Heath had cut him short with a nod and grunted ‘mate’. If they had lunch early enough, maybe they could avoid more of the same overtures—though no doubt the cashier was having a good old gossip about him to whoever wandered in next. ‘Pub okay with you?’ he added belatedly. As usual, his focus was far too much on himself.

‘Can do,’ Sean said affably. ‘Want me to bring the car down so you don’t have to walk back up the hill?’

‘Nope.’ The pain was all he had left. Well, that and Charlee.

‘Chips at the Settlers or steak at the Overland?’

‘Chips are quicker.’

‘Right you are. While I remember, the doc’s got a friend flying in next week. Needed a spot to park the plane and Roni Krueger down the road suggested one of our hangars. I said that’d be fine. No point paying for space at Pallamana Airfield when we’ve got a pair going begging.’

‘Wouldn’t have said they’re going begging.’ He didn’t need anyone dropping by, even if it was only to use the bush airfield over a kilometre from the homestead. ‘Don’t know that the airstrip’s any good. Probably needs grading or rolling.’

‘I’ll take a look this week.’

‘You do that.’ Heath wouldn’t be wandering the property to find out; he was barely aware of the boundaries, only that they were distant enough to afford him some privacy. Or at least they would be, if Sean hadn’t stuck his oar in. ‘So long as the doctor picks him up. We don’t want it getting around that we’re running some kind of ferry service from the airstrip into town.’

Sean put one hand on the frosted glass door into the pub. ‘This isn’t too shabby, is it? Not many places you’d get two magnificent old pubs like this, dead opposite one another.’

‘If you say so.’ His father was always trying to put a positive spin on their decision to move into the area. The only thing Heath was positive about was that he didn’t damn well care. Where he lived was irrelevant. No, that wasn’t right: it was life itself that was irrelevant. He continued to live because he had a duty to. No other reason.

It was a shame Sophie hadn’t felt the same way. Or rather, that the evidence proved he hadn’t felt the same way about her.

---