Page 63 of Wings Above the Mallee

‘Is it, though?’ Amelia said, her eyes on the horizon, though he had no idea whether that was to evade him or a necessity of piloting. ‘Or is Sean onto something? I mean, I tell myself not to let anyone in so I can’t get hurt. But I’m not making too good a job of that.’

‘Gavin, you mean?’

She was silent a long moment, as he’d realised was her habit.

‘Among others,’ she said eventually.

His fingers found the seat edge again.

‘Is Sean okay?’ she said.

His lip curled derisively. He was an idiot, thinking for a second that Amelia had meant him. She and Sean had clicked from day one.

‘I don’t know.’ Except he had to be. God knows, Heath couldn’t take another tragedy himself; he was barely coping with Charlee being alive but lost to him.

Another long silence. He worked up the courage to lean against his door, watching the ground scrolling far beneath.

‘Why don’t you drive?’

He flinched at Amelia’s forthrightness. ‘Partly PTSD, I guess.’

‘But you don’t have a problem being a passenger?’

‘Necessity outweighs fear,’ Heath said tightly. Waited for her to point out the irrationality of his weakness.

‘I fall to pieces at the sight of a dam, yet I find the river … healing,’ Amelia said. ‘So I think perhaps our emotions don’t have to be rooted in logic.’

It took a few seconds for him to process what she’d said. Then he nodded slowly. ‘I guess you’re right. But we do have a duty to control them when they impact other people.’

She huffed out a short breath. ‘You probably should have mentioned that before I blew up at my dad the other week.’

He spread his fingers wide, palm up, inviting her to continue.

‘He sold the family property. Where Noah … died. And I feel like he’s cut off my only connection to my son.’ She pulled sunglasses from the console and put them on, even though the sky was overcast. ‘Which is irrational, yet I can’t get past my anger. But that’s because I want to blame everyone else for what happened to Noah. Also stupid, because no matter who I point a finger at—’ she tapped her own chest, though he got the impression the action was subconscious ‘—my son is … gone.’

‘You come across as anything but angry,’ he said. ‘So clearly you’re more capable of controlling your impulses than I am.’

‘I’ve had a little longer to learn how to cope. Three years.’ She gave a broken laugh. ‘Three years of coping by running, as though I can take a suitcase of the good memories along with me and outrun the truth and tragedy, rather than accept it.’

‘Do you think you’ll ever be able to stop running?’

He caught the uneven rise of her chest as she took a ragged breath. ‘I’d love to. I’m so bloody tired. Tired of starting fresh, when there can never truly be a new start. Tired of avoiding making friends, because I know they will only bring me sorrow. Tired of trying not to face the truth. Denial is exhausting, isn’t it?’

‘I’m tired of the guilt,’ he said quietly. ‘And I know that’s a bad thing, that I don’t have any right to put it aside. But I don’t know how much longer I can carry it.’

‘But you feel that you’ll be doing wrong by Sophie if you let it go.’

‘She didn’t deserve to die. I didn’t deserve to live. And the only thing she asked of me was to look after Charlee, and I’m—’ Heath broke off, turning to look out the side window. The world played out far beneath them, lives he didn’t know, sorrows he’d never have to experience. Amelia was right; something about being up here did add a different perspective to life.

He startled as Amelia reached across the narrow console between them, took his hand and squeezed it so tight it hurt.

‘Charlee knows you’re here for her. She’s working her way through this. But she needs to be able to blame you for a while, exactly the same as I need to blame my dad. Needed to. I guess now I recognise my reaction, I should address it, right?’ She gave one more squeeze, then let go, and he had to fight the urge to snatch her hand back. ‘I suppose it’s human nature to lash out, try to share the hurt in the hope that it eases the burden.’ She pointed beyond the windscreen and simultaneously toggled a switch on her joystick with her right hand. ‘Keith Airfield. I need to listen in, check who’s in the airspace.’

He realised that she was cutting off their conversation, but was it so he would process her words? She was closer to Charlee than anyone had been in two years. Well, except Ethan, maybe. But Amelia he could trust.

24

Amelia

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