Page 54 of Wings Above the Mallee

It took him a few seconds to grasp her meaning. Then the heat shot up his neck.

‘Ew, Lynn!’ Charlee squealed, reverting to an embarrassed teen.

‘Brought that one on yourself, lovey,’ the shop owner said complacently, and Heath mentally high-fived her. ‘Now, you go down to the Overland and tell Daniel behind the till that I said dessert and coffee are on me. Forwhoeveris in your party.’

As they left the IGA, Heath deliberated over taking Charlee’s groceries to carry. Though intent on being fiercely independent, she’d always be his little girl. Instead, he glanced at his watch.

‘Obviously, we can’t let Lynn pay for dessert. But we’ll do lunch there?’

Charlee squinted at him. ‘Let Lynn pay? Youdoknow she owns the pub, right?’ At his nonplussed expression, she blew out an exasperated breath and shook her head. ‘And her sorta-boyfriend owns the other pub.’

‘Ant,’ he said, probably sounding too relieved at the fact that he had some idea of what was going on in his neighbourhood.

Charlee didn’t appreciate his intel as much as she could have. ‘Which reminds me: Daideó and I have signed up for a fundraising thing in the old bank next month. You want in on it? I’ll get Ethan to come, too.’

‘Sure,’ he said absently. ‘I’ll buy a book of tickets or whatever.’

‘One ticket, attendance required,’ Charlee said primly.

‘Uh-huh.’

Charlee was walking toward Amelia’s, so by default he had to accompany her. After three weeks of trying to see Amelia, his heart was now thumping at the thought. What the hell was wrong with him? He only had to grunt an apology and move on. They were both adults, accustomed to office politics and capable of pretending he hadn’t been an absolute prick.

Yet it wasn’t about him. With every step he took closer, he became more aware of Amelia’s own pain, of her tragedy, of the grief she had borne, apparently alone. And for some unfathomable reason, he desperately wanted to take that from her. As though he could shoulder more.

Sean looked no less shocked to see Heath step into the lounge room than he felt. Amelia didn’t skip a beat, although she did fold her arms across her chest as she leaned against the mantelpiece.

‘Heath. You should have been here a couple of hours ago. You missed out on a fantastic morning tea, courtesy of Sean and the CWA.’

‘Don’t think I move fast enough to burn that off anymore.’ He tapped his bad leg, but silently cursed himself. Was he trying for sympathy or intent on pointing out his defects? Because if it was the latter, he’d need some time here.

‘Is that recent?’ Amelia nodded at his leg.

‘We’re going out for lunch,’ Charlee interrupted. ‘Heath’s treat—though Lynn offered to shout dessert.’

He was surprised. It was unlike his daughter to clue in to the fact that he didn’t want to talk about his injury. But—God, she wasn’t going to repeat the conversation that had prompted Lynn’s offer, was she?

‘She’s good gear, that Lynn,’ Sean said.

Charlee’s head whipped around. ‘That’s the second time you’ve said something like that this morning.’ She laced thewords with heavy innuendo, then turned away, letting Sean off the hook. ‘Anyway, Amelia, are you going to change?’ She pressed her lips together, the sudden uncertainty sitting awkwardly with her domineering attitude. ‘Because if you are, I will. Only if you’ve got something else I can borrow, that is.’

‘Sure, though you’ll have noticed I’m not a girlie girl. But there are a couple of cute jumpers in the dresser—and a cupboard with a few office clothes you can help yourself to.’

Amelia said ‘office’ with a derogatory inflection and Heath switched his attention to her. Not that it had been far away: he’d been making a silent assessment, wondering how she managed to look like she had it all together when he so frequently dropped the bundle. Too exhausted by the constant battering of conflicting emotions to care how he was perceived, he’d go a couple of weeks without shaving, months without a haircut. It had been years since he’d worn a suit: Sophie’s funeral, actually.

‘You make it sound like the office isn’t a career highlight?’

Amelia looked at him long enough that he had to replay his words, checking whether he’d managed to say something wrong.

‘Working in an office is my penance. I guess we each choose our own whip, right?’

The oddest sensation rushed through him, like internal goosebumps. For all her put-together façade, Amelia totally got it. The only way through their guilt and grief was to punish themselves.

‘It can be hard to get hold of a cat o’ nine tails these days.’

‘That sounds like another mission for Tracey,’ Charlee said.

‘Not sure I want to ask what that’s about.’

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