Page 34 of Wings Above the Mallee

Amelia stiffened, her gaze horrified, and he shook his head.

‘Or I should say, I didn’t quit soon enough to save my own marriage. God knows, I gave Jill enough reason to up and leave. I’d say the woman was a saint, even with the temper of a devil. My biggest regret, though, is that she died eighteen months after finally leaving me. She should have had longer, should have found more joy.’

‘But at least she had Heath and Charlee?’

‘Jill was twelve years younger than me. Heath is my first wife’s son.’ He suspected his grin was more of a grimace. ‘Can’t expect any woman to put up with me for too long.’ That wouldn’t be a problem going forward, though. ‘Jill never had children. Always said there is no greater sadness for a woman than not being able to have their ownbabai. Guess I was doing her something of a favour in trying to make her miserable enough to forget it.’

Amelia’s chin wobbled and he could have bitten his bloody tongue; he was talking to a childless woman in, he guessed, her mid-thirties as though he could understand the demands of her biological clock. Maybe if he’d listened to Jill, rather than had the florist send a bouquet that he didn’t even bother to select each time she’d lost a pregnancy, he’d have more insight. But back then, only work had been important. Work and the bottle.

‘Do you believe in God, Sean?’ Amelia kept her gaze on the table, her voice low.

‘That’s a heavy question,mo mhuirnin.’ He grasped the Irish endearment, hoping his signature quirkiness would lighten the conversation, which was far too focused on him.

But Amelia only settled her gaze on him, waiting for a reply as though it was important.

He thought about it for a second. ‘I don’t know that I do. Seems to me He would have treated Jill and Sophie better. Neither of them ever hurt anyone. And if there was some kind of divine entity, wouldn’t He care more about Heath and Charlee? What kind of God would think it fair to load so much sorrow and grief on a kid?’

Amelia observed him so intently, he got the impression her question hadn’t been a polite throwaway inquiry, but that she was searching for an answer to his response. And suddenly he needed it. Because if Amelia could find that answer, perhaps she could help what remained of his family. ‘Do you believe?’

Amelia sucked in a tremulous breath. ‘I have to believe there’s a God of some sort, a heaven. Because Icannotaccept that there’s nothing after this.’ She gestured broadly, encompassing the cafe and, beyond that, the world. ‘If there is nothing more, then our lives, our pain, our grief, our effort, our joy are all pointless. We’re the briefest flash of light in the darkness, just like fireflies. And for what purpose?’ She took a drink, then dipped a finger in the glass, absently drizzling water over the bruise on her knuckle. ‘The problem is, believing in a God or an afterlife or whatever doesn’t mean that I’m willing to hand over control and simply accept whatever happens. Believing doesn’t mean blind acquiescence, at least not for me. Like you, I still want to know why. What is the purpose behind our suffering?’

He could sense that there was more to her statement. Something that went beyond general compassion and the age-old question of the meaning of life. ‘Because of Gavin?’ he asked gently.

Amelia looked up, as though she was gazing at the heavens she needed to believe spread above them. Tears threatened to spill, turning her eyes to liquid amber. ‘Gavin. And because if I can’t work out why any God would be cruel enough to steal my four-year-old son, if I can’t persuade myself that Noah’s up there happily playing with my favourite old kelpie, then I’m not sure I can find any reason to carry on.’

15

Heath

‘There’s going to be a good spread tonight, all righty,’ Dave Jaensch said from the head of the conference table. Since the first RAG meeting, he’d claimed the chair as his right, based on the fact he was on local council. He rubbed his belly and nodded happily. ‘The little ladies have been taking care of their side of the affair.’

The guy’s permanently single status probably had nothing to do with the lack of available women, Heath thought as he pushed his chair back. With people still filtering in, there was no need for him to keep Dave company.

Amelia flicked him a smile as he escaped to the main office. Her hands moved quickly, almost nervously, across the scored desktop, tapping sheafs of papers together, turning a couple of pens in a mug, shifting her keyboard, tilting her monitor. When Sean mentioned that he’d had lunch with Amelia, Heath had barely acknowledged him, yet he’d felt an odd jolt of … jealousy? After two years of near-solitude, Dad’s company was starting to wear a bit thin. Amelia wasthe only person in the town who didn’t radiate either curiosity or unwanted sympathy—though that was probably only in Heath’s mind, given that no one knew his story.

‘How’s the family?’

Sliding manila folders into the open bottom drawer of her desk, Amelia froze. Her lips trembled and she mashed them together.

He cursed silently. Dad could have given him a heads-up. ‘The sheep?’ Or the magpie? He’d never seen a bird as tame as Dusty, who had flown to Amelia’s shoulder as though protecting her when he delivered the second lamb.

Amelia slowly straightened. ‘The sheep?’

‘I thought something happened to the animals. Your reaction …’

‘Oh.’ She indicated the overloaded drawer as she closed it with her knee. ‘No, sorry, that was my preoccupied look. The animals are fine. Though if you happen to have a black-market supplier of rose petals, Biggles would be all over it.’

‘Biggles. The fictitious aviator, right?’

‘And very real possum.’

‘He flies everywhere with you?’

‘She.’ Amelia looked past him as a couple entered on a drift of cold air. ‘Hi all. The RAG meeting is in the community room.’ She turned back to him. ‘When she was first orphaned, she was with me twenty-four-seven, so she accrued a few frequent flyer points back then.’

‘You don’t take her up with Gavin now?’ Quick irritation flared in Heath. Hadn’t he just thought to himself how much he valued people who minded their own business? Yet here he was, chatty enough to make Sean proud. And proving that he knew too much of what was going on in Amelia’s life.

Fine lines radiated around her eyes. She wore little makeup, at least nothing he could pick—although a couple of years back, Charlee would have told him that was the whole point—and the lack of disguise suited her. ‘She’s big enough to stay home alone, now. Well, not so much alone, thanks to the lambs.’

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