The bank manager’s hollow words echoed down the phone. Nina shook her head. ‘No, that’s impossible.’ A late ray of sunshine flared through the cobwebbed window and was swallowed by the evening.
‘Sorry, is this the first you’ve heard?’ asked Trevor.
‘Yes,’ she stammered, disbelieving, numb with the news. It couldn’t be. She’d have known, wouldn’t she? If Eva’s heart had stopped beating, if they no longer shared this world? Why hadn’t she been told? Nina’s mind cast vainly about for somebody to blame. She was Eva’s most regular visitor, rarely missing a week, but she wasn’t a relative. The staff at Pemberley had no duty of care to inform her of anything. That precious call had belonged to James Langley. How had he reacted? With shock, with grief? Or was he indifferent, or even relieved at the news? Which emotion had topped his list? ‘When did Eva die?’ asked Nina, amazed such a question could leave her lips.
‘Yesterday,’ said Trevor. ‘A heart attack. Very sudden. She died on her way to hospital. I imagined you already knew.’
A stony silence fell on the line. Nina wanted Trevor’s terrible words to crawl right back up the phone and disappear. Then it struck her. ‘If you thought I already knew, why did you ring?’
‘Ah,’ said Trevor, his discomfort plain. ‘I’m afraid there’s more bad news. Don’t like to bother you with this on a weekend, but you need to know.’ Nina uttered a mirthless laugh. Compared to Eva’s death, what other bad news could possibly touch her? ‘It’s the contract. The contract of sale for Billabong Bend . . .’ He hesitated, sending a bolt of fear straight to her heart. ‘It’s no good, Nina. Eva’s death has rendered it void.’
Nina listened, but didn’t really hear, didn’t understand. What was he saying? Maybe she was dreaming. She looked about her, stared out the window, bewildered. Everything seemed normal. The fluttering curtains, the darkening sky, the stately river red gums casting long shadows. All as it should be.
‘Void?’ she managed. ‘The contract was signed and witnessed three weeks ago, the deposit paid. How can it be void?’
‘Doesn’t happen often,’ said Trevor. ‘But if the vendor dies before settlement, then the contract can’t be enforced. Makes sense, if you think about it. You can’t have an agreement with a dead person. Of course, in most cases the vendor’s executor is happy enough to honour the spirit of the deal, to amend the contract, to carry on with the sale . . .’ He paused, an awful and significant pause.
Nina’s mind worked overtime, trying to anticipate where the phone call was going. Eva’s executor . . . that would be James Langley. ‘In most cases. But not in this case?’
‘No,’ said Trevor. ‘Not in this case.’
‘What if I talked to James myself?’
‘I’ve already approached him on your behalf,’ said Trevor. ‘Told him how close you were to Eva, how badly she wanted you to have that land.’
‘And?’
‘No go, I’m afraid. He was quite resistant, hostile even.’ Trevor stopped, as if he didn’t quite know how to put it. ‘James is a funny bloke, got some strange ideas.’
‘Like what?’
‘He’s got some poppycock notion that you manipulated Eva into signing that contract. It was the purchase price that got him,’ said Trevor. ‘It’s below market value. Not enough to upset the titles office, but enough to put a bee in his bonnet.’
‘I have to talk to him.’
‘I wouldn’t. He had some pretty objectionable things to say about you, Nina . . .’ Another pause, long enough for her imagination to run wild. Nina ground her teeth together and tasted tears, although she didn’t know she was crying. ‘I’ll arrange for the return of your deposit in the next few days. Word is, James will sell Billabong as soon as he can. You might be able to pick it up at auction. Be sure to send a bidder in your stead though. I wouldn’t be surprised if James refused to knock the place down to you.’
‘I need time to think,’ said Nina.
‘Course you do,’ said Trevor. ‘Ring me just as soon as you decide.’
Nina thanked him and put down the phone in a daze. Eva gone. Billabong Bend at risk all over again. Her body hurt like she’d been beaten black and blue. Fear and grief washed in. How could it be? Warm, brave, elegant Eva – gone. Nina reached for the phone to ring Lockie, struggling against the overwhelming tide of misery and guilt. Did the trip back to Billabong have something to do with Eva’s death? Nina fought to draw breath. If she didn’t share this grief with someone it would drown her.
Lockie couldn’t come. ‘The boss is here for the weekend. We’re going over the books together, drafting a new business plan. I can’t just up and leave.’
‘Please.’ She hated the cry in her voice. Shit, she was almost begging.
‘Can’t be done,’ said Lockie.
She hung silent on the phone. Surely he’d change his mind? Losing Eva and Billabong in one fell blow – he must realise how devastating that was. ‘I’ll come as soon as I can, but it won’t be tonight,’ said Lockie. ‘Sorry, Nina, it’s the best I can do.’
‘When then?’
‘Don’t know,’ he said. ‘Tomorrow maybe? I told you, I’ll come as soon as I can.’
It took a while for her to speak. ‘If it was you,’ she said, ‘I’d come.’
‘If you’d just see sense and move in with me, you wouldn’t have to come,’ he said. ‘You’d already be here. How the hell are we supposed to make this work when we never see each other? It’s just too difficult.’
‘I’ll make it easy for you then,’ said Nina, her voice hard now. ‘Let’s stop trying.’
‘Don’t be like that, Nina.’
‘I mean it. I’m done, Lockie. I’m not going to settle down at Macquarie Station with you. Not ever. That’s what you want, right?’
‘Well, yeah. That’s where I thought we were heading.’
‘But my heart’s here, Lockie. You know that. The wetlands, the river – they’re in my blood. That won’t change.’ Her voice was breaking. ‘Find somebody who can make you happy. Because it isn’t me.’
‘You’re upset.’
‘Damn straight I am. We’ve been drifting along, Lockie, settling. Truth is, we want different things from life,’ she said. ‘This break’s long overdue.’
It was a while before he spoke. ‘Is this about Ric Bonelli?’
‘No, it’s not about Ric. It’s about us.’ She ended the call. Things just kept falling apart. Nina pressed her knuckles against her eyes to stem the flow of tears. She’d had enough. Enough of holding tight, being tough, proving to everybody including herself that she could manage on her own. Maybe to herself more than anyone. Well, tonight she couldn’t do it. Tonight she needed a friend.
She rang Kate. ‘Nina?’ The surprise was plain in Kate’s voice when she picked up. ‘It’s been ages. Guess what? I’m in Sydney, with Geoff, for the weekend and we’re just on our way out to dinner. We’re having a fabulous time by the way . . . Is everything all right?’
Nina imagined Kate, cosied up at some city hotel, caught up in the excitement of new love. ‘Everything’s fine,’ she said, feeling bereft. ‘I won’t keep you.’
Dylan, her perfect confidant, was out of reach, off in Rio. He’d been texting her photos of buff Brazilian guys, but other than that, she hadn’t heard from him. The weight of her parents’ kindness would be too much to bear. Who then? Any time she wasn’t working at Red Gums, she usually spent with Lockie. The loneliness that sometimes came out at sunset hit her in the stark light of day. Kate had warned her, said she was losing touch all alone on the river, becoming a hermit. It seemed her friend was right. There was nobody left to call. Or was there? Memories swept in, of a lonely child turning to her best friend in times of trouble. Turning to the boy across the river.
Nina rubbed her temples with her fingers. Had life ever been so bewildering? She picked up her phone and tried Dylan anyway. To her astonishment, he answered. ‘Dylan, thank God. Did I wake you? I’ve no idea what time it is there.’
‘Five-thirty in the morning,’ he said. ‘But don’t worry, I haven’t been to bed yet.’ She could hardly hear him. Loud music played in the background and his voice was faint and faraway. ‘What’s up, chicky? My phone’s almost out of charge, so be quick.’
Nina took a deep breath and began. Eva’s death, losing Billabong, her growing affection for Sophie, the breakup with Lockie and her maddening, irresistible attraction to Ric Bonelli; a great, stream-of-consciousness outpouring over the shaky line.
Dylan let her finish without interrupting. ‘I go away for a few months,’ he said, ‘and look what happens.’
‘Be serious, Dylan,’ she said. ‘I’m so confused. What should I do?’
His voice was breaking up. She strained to hear, catching only a fragment of speech before the line went dead. Listen to your heart . . .
Nina waited, sitting on the porch step, in that mysterious hour between dusk and nightfall. Time had stopped. She seemed to have been sitting there forever, in the silence, in the twilight. A wild duck called. Its lonely cry echoed off the river, before the breeze carried it downstream. When would he come? Jinx buried his cold nose in her lap, as if to say, won’t I do? She fondled his velvet ears. ‘Not tonight, you won’t.’ In the waning light the windmill blades turned and turned, marking the minutes. She shivered, in spite of the balmy evening. Jinx pricked up his ears. Finally, the hum of a motor. Softer, as it slowed to take the turn. Louder now. Twin shafts of light pierced the gloom. Jinx barked and trotted to the gate.
‘I’m sorry to hear it,’ said Ric, visibly moved when he heard the news about Eva. He offered Nina a stubby from the six-pack of beer he’d brought over, took one for himself and put the rest in the fridge. ‘Mrs Langley sure was a sweet old lady.’ He took a seat beside Nina at the kitchen table. ‘She meant a lot to you, didn’t she?’
‘Eva was the best.’ It hurt to talk. Nina’s throat was raw from weeping. Her reflection in the window showed wild hair, a puffy face, and eyes red and scalded from tears. ‘James has no right to dishonour that contract,’ she said. ‘Eva wanted me to have Billabong. It was her last wish, for the wetlands to be safe.’
Nina watched Ric for any sign of disapproval. He’d been unhappy about taking Eva back to Billabong. Would he think her at fault? She couldn’t bear that. But what she saw in his deep, brown eyes was open friendship with no hint of blame . . . and there was something more. Warmth, tenderness – love.
‘Why didn’t you keep in touch after you went to Italy?’ she asked.
Ric ran a hand through his hair and took a sudden interest in the sugar bowl. He glanced up at her for a moment. A flutter of desire stirred in her stomach before he looked away again. ‘You really want to know?’
Nina nodded, unsure now if she did or not.
‘Someone played a stupid trick on me before I left.’
‘Go on.’
He drew a deep breath. ‘I was at school, hanging out with Lockie one lunchtime. Just mates, you know, having a yarn.’ Lockie? What did he have to do with this? ‘Anyway, he said he had this girl. Thought he was taking the piss at first. Nothing much gets past me, and Drover’s a small town. Then he comes out with it. Nina Moore, he says. Seemed real serious about it. And I’d just made a fool of myself giving you a promise ring, kissing you.’ Nina shook her head. The truth was dawning fast. ‘I had to sit there,’ said Ric, ‘like a drongo, play-acting that I was pleased for him.’ Nina thought back to that last summer before Ric left. Lockie had a holiday job at Red Gums, laying water pipes. Had he followed her down to the river? Had he seen them together?
‘And you never bothered to ask me?’
‘Nah.’ He looked out the window. ‘I was an idiot. Couldn’t face you. Couldn’t bear to think of you with him.’ Ric was rushing now, words pouring out like it was a relief. ‘Believe me, Nina, if I’d known it was bullshit, I wouldn’t have left. I would’ve stayed, no matter what Mum wanted.’ He got to his feet and rubbed the back of his neck. ‘When I came back to Australia, Dylan told me it wasn’t true, what Lockie had said.’ His eyes flew up to hers. ‘But by then it was too late. Years too late,’ said Ric. ‘We’d missed our chance.’
Nina’s head was spinning. Was this true? Had some boastful, long-ago lie ripped apart their friendship? More than a friendship, a fledgling love affair, although they’d been only kids. But then Lockie had been a kid too, a shy sixteen-year-old boy, with a crush on the boss’s daughter. A boy who must have watched her sneak off, day after day, down to the river to meet Ric. She knew Lockie so well now. Quiet. Agreeable. A man who didn’t court trouble. But still waters run deep, and Lockie was also a man who took things to heart. Her clandestine friendship with Ric would have eaten away at him. She could forgive him for a foolish brag in the schoolyard, but she wouldn’t forget what it had cost her.
‘Maybe there’s still a chance.’ The phrase caught her unawares, as though it had slipped from her lips all by itself, summoned by the power of their shared wanting.
‘What about Lockie?’
‘It’s over,’ she said.
Ric wet his lips. ‘Let’s go down to the river.’ Just six words, spoken with the tempo of a slow song. A vibration passed through her, like a giant tuning fork pressed against her body. A yearning for something unknown, and yet as familiar as breathing. Ric held out his hand. ‘Will you come?’
Nina took a candle. She shut Jinx in her room, fetched a blanket and led Ric outside. Hand in hand they walked down to the river. They didn’t stop at the pumps or the windmill. They didn’t stop until they reached their long-ago meeting place. Memories grew large, transporting her to an earlier, innocent time. Back then it had stopped at a kiss. What about tonight?
Light was fading fast. A shadowy haze descended on the water, lending it a dreamlike quality, blotting out the ugliness of the opposite bank. Nina lit the candle. Ric shook out the blanket, laid it on the ground and took something from his pocket. A kingfisher feather. It shone turquoise in the gloom. ‘For you.’
He pushed the feather behind her ear. Nina moved into his arms, while shadows wavered on the trunks of trees. They slow-danced for a while to the music of the river – its low murmur, its choir of crickets and frogs. This was what she needed, to be swept up in a flood of feeling. To embrace this love, lost and now found. To be rendered thoughtless by Ric’s kiss. They fell on the blanket, sharing one breath. The dome of light cast by the flickering candle was like a living thing, and they were its centre, its beating heart.
Each undressed the other. Her fingers explored his skin, warm and smooth beneath her touch. Honey-coloured skin, so different from Lockie’s. Lockie’s chest was square and white, with a thatch of dark springy hairs over his heart. Ric’s heart was bare. She marvelled at his taut stomach, his contoured physique, his rigid erection. This grown Ric had the body of an athlete, an Olympian – a god. Nina arched her back, showing off a woman’s body to this man who’d known her only as a girl. Some primal power had hold of her. In its grip there was no Eva, no Billabong, no tomorrow. There was only their shared need for each other.
The stars had appeared and the candle burned away long before they were satisfied. She lay at peace, head resting on Ric’s arm. The night was fragrant with wild mint. Two moons, one in the sky and its dimpled twin in the river, cast a soft glow over the bush. Nina studied Ric’s face. Wide brows, flared nose, square jaw. Full lips, expert lips. She adored all of him, from the smooth brown feet pressed against her leg to the dark peak of hair at the nape of his neck. How had she lived without him, all of these years? And she knew their love lay at the heart of her existence – fundamental and undeniable.