Page 85 of Sugarloaf Ridge Lies

She smirks. “So I’ve heard.”

After breakfast, Liv spends the morning on the phone to her insurer. She sorts a new key for her car and chats to someone about the best websites for maternity clothes, so she has something to wear for when she goes back to work in a week or so.

There are a million things to do, but none are more important than being here with Liv. I hope my presence gives her support and the comfort she needs to get through this.

***

After taking Liv intotown for a new phone and some essentials, by the time the afternoon rolls around, Liv is frazzled, huffing and puffing as she fills a writing pad with notes.

“Wanna get some fresh air before the sun disappears?” I clear the table of empty cups and small plates covered in cupcake crumbs.

She rubs at her temple and gives me a soft smile. “Absolutely. I need a distraction.” She stands from the table and tightens my red checked flannelette shirt around her torso.

“How about you show me around? I’ve only seen the property in the dark.”

As we walk through the fields, Liv searches out my hand. Like a scared animal, I’m hesitant at first but weave my fingers between hers, clutching as if I’ll never let her go.

“I’m sorry about last night,” she says in a quiet voice.

I turn my head. “For what exactly?”

“Passing out like that.” She laughs softly. “It’s been a very long time since someone carried me to bed.”

“It’s all good. You had a big day.” I pick a stray wildflower from the path and hand it to her. A smile teases at her lips before she breaks off the end of the stem and slides it into hair above her ear.

As silence stretches between us, warbling magpies and kookaburra laughter amplifies. Threatening storm clouds gather on the horizon.

“It’s my fault they’re gone,” Liv says. Her Thomas Cook boots crunch on the gravel as she moves into a steady walking pace. “My grandparents, my mother.”

My heart thumps wildly. She wants to talk.

“It was a long drive,” she says after a pause, eyes fixed on the fields before us. “Grandpa asked if I wanted to take the wheel, but I made up an excuse about being too tired.” She fiddles with the flower in her hair even though it’s secured just fine. “It wasn’t that their caravan was on the back; I’d towed it before. Grandpa said it would give me life skills.”

Her focus shifts to the ground in front of her as she kicks up bits of gravel with the toe of her boots. “I lied because I wanted to sit in the back to use my phone. Not that I had anything important to do. Just scrolling through crap on social media. I wanted to zone out.”

For encouragement, I squeeze her hand.

“We were about an hour into the drive, cruising along on the highway, all of us laughing and talking. I didn’t end up on my phone much after all.” She takes in a shaky breath. “Then Pop had a cardiac arrest.”

“Oh shit,” I blurt out.

“We had a head-on collision with a semi-trailer. Everyone else died at the scene. I was the sole survivor.”

My jaw drops. She watched them die. Three of the most important people in her world, taken in what I can only imagine was a horrific accident. “I’m sorry, Liv. So fuckin’ sorry.”

“Their caravan, which had all their precious belongings because they’d sold up and had become Grey Nomads, was ripped apart and burst into flames. So yesterday, with the fire, it was like my heart being ripped open again. Now every token, every physical memory linking to my grandparents is gone.”

Fuck. I need to call Craig. He’s worked in The Falls fire brigade since I was a kid. He’ll let me know if I can get back to the site to search for any personal effects.

“I nearly died.” She lets out a shattered breath. “Some days, I wish I did.”

Oh, sugar. “Jesus. Why would you say that?”

“It should’ve been me instead of Mum. She’d finally got her life back and was so damn excited about where things were headed.” She shakes her head with a deep sigh. “It was as if she’d been released from prison after a life sentence. The light in her eyes was truly something to behold. I took that away from her. Not only that, but I also stole the last of my grandparents’ carefree retirement days.”

“You can’t think like that.”

“All I do is think about it. And when I try push it down, I dream about it. And it’s not pretty.”

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