Mike was already on edge because of Joe walking in, and then not long after that Martha had rung him, hysterical. She had sobbed into the phone. He’d braced himself, thinking Joe had gone and told her. But no, she was at the hospital. A fox had bitten her. He didn’t even know foxes bit people. The hospital woman had told Martha that hand wounds were the worst, and it would require treatment as soon as possible. Foxes carried tetanus. Martha’s voice became high pitched. ‘All sorts of infections, Mike,’ she wailed. ‘I could have rabies, and I had to kill it, I knelt on its throat.’ Mike had tried to reassure her. He was so relieved his betrayal hadn’t been reported that he felt almost grateful for her neediness. And then she had sighed as if she had really believed him. As if she would let him be a man after all. She said she would stay at Anne’s for a while because she was too distressed and exhausted to face everyone at home. Mike had been relieved. He had encouraged it. Yes, stay there, that would be fine. He would deal with the kids. He didn’t want to face her.
First Joe and then a fox and now a fire. Hell rained down on him. And had he cleaned out the gutters? Had he renewed their insurance? His reprieve had been short. He was a man with problems again. He was harried, neglectful, unprepared for the season of fires. Usually they came from the north. So he hadn’t bothered. And now he had jeopardised the safety of his family.
By the time he arrived at the oval, there was a small crowd of people under the oak tree. He was relieved to find Ada and Ben and Susie and a handful of other neighbours. Toby lay with his head on Susie’s lap reading. Susie only acknowledged Mike with a nod. She and Toby sat slightly apart from Ada and Ben. Ada didn’t rush out to greet him, as she usually would have.
Ben was the only one who seemed unaffected. He glanced at Ada as Mike approached and explained, ‘She’s worried about Till and PJ. Do you know where mum is?’
‘I assume she is still with Anne, if she isn’t here. She’s in a state about rabies.’
Ada startled out of her thoughts. ‘Do people die from rabies?’ she said.
Mike shrugged. ‘She hasn’t got rabies. Where’s Tilly?’
‘No one knows,’ said Ben. ‘Ada is worried she was in the bush that’s burning, it’s the block over the railway, apparently someone lit it, that’s the word around here anyway.’
‘Why would Tilly be there?’ Mike asked.
‘She wouldn’t, it’s just Ada’s got a thing going. She’s, you know, seen something. It’s her bush that’s burning; it’s where William Blake is.’
‘A fireball, that’s what I’ve seen,’ said Ada severely. ‘And PJ is there on his own.’
Sweat had spread on Mike’s shirt and now it stuck to his skin. The clouds were darkening or perhaps it was just the smoke had filled the sky. And the fact remained, he had cheated on his wife. And he couldn’t dispel Ada’s visions of fireballs. Nor could he make things better for Susie who was wearing a boldly patterned sundress, disturbingly reminiscent of the floral apron she had tried to undo. For once, despite the dress, she looked strangely timid, as if stunned into a disconcerted reserve.
And where was Tilly?
Mike rolled up his sleeves. He would go and look for her. Should he talk to Susie first? Would it be rude not to talk to her? He should ask her if she was all right? Of course she wasn’t though. And Toby was there. Whatever he said or didn’t say in relation to Susie would feel wrong, to say nothing, to say something. And why weren’t Ada and Toby playing? He should find Tilly first. Then Ada would calm. She would stop this embarrassing praying, and he could avoid Susie. Just seeing her made him feel bad. He didn’t want to see her anymore. His feelings for her were dead. Joe had killed them. The disgust that had deflated his face had reflected their ugliness, with Susie trussed up like a chicken in the floral apron she was trying to tear off. He cursed his mind’s eye for returning the scene to him.
He crouched by Ada. ‘How about you and I go look for Tilly. We’ll get an ice cream on the way.’
Ada didn’t even move; she only opened her eyes and fastened an unerring look of reproach on him. Did she know about Joe? Ada never refused an ice cream. Mike stood up and shook off her stare.
After a moment she said, ‘William Blake is probably burnt to the ground. I’m waiting here for the fireman and PJ. You go with Ben and get Tilly.’
‘Well, I need a beer,’ said Ben, standing up and dusting off his jeans.
For godsake, Mike needed one too. He would have to leave Ada here with Susie. He could tell she wouldn’t be persuaded. If an ice cream couldn’t ease her out, nothing would. And he had to find Tilly. He glanced at Ben. Ben wasn’t legally old enough to drink. But today was not a normal day. He fished into his pocket, pulled out his wallet and handed Ben a two-dollar note.
‘Ride down to the bottle shop and grab a stubbie. I’m going to go look for Tilly.’
Ben raised an eyebrow. He tried not to make a big show of it. He slipped the money in his pocket, swung his leg over the bike and slid away in an instant. Mike watched him anxiously. Why didn’t he trust Ben? Now he began to wonder if he shouldn’t have done it. Ben’s self-assurance was unsettling. It was as if he knew the ropes so well he didn’t need to use them anymore. He was too well wired for his own good—all savvy and charm and not enough truth. He was almost the opposite of Ada, in whom truth burned so bright it made her fierce.
A shout came from behind him. Mike turned. There was the fireman, leading PJ on a piece of rope, exactly as Ada had said he would. Ada jumped up.
‘PJ,’ she shouted, running towards him. The fireman was a hero. He was not a man who cheated on his wife. He was a man who had cleaned his gutters, joined the local Country Fire Authority, and rescued an old lame dog. His life was tidy, praiseworthy. Mike resented him. Everyone on the oval wandered over to hear his tale. Ada stood by the fireman hero, patting PJ. She gazed up at the fireman, smiling.
The clouds had gathered above them. The sky was turbulent, aching. Any minute it would crack with thunder. But the fireman smiled at them all. He beamed like the sun itself. He said the fire had been contained and it was safe to return to their houses. No house had been burnt. The police would be going into the bush block as arson was suspected. People murmured disapprovingly and began to collect their things.
The fire had been contained. The word contained struck Mike as a very human inclination; it seemed to diminish men in the face of something greater. Fire, lust, life…
He found himself standing close to Susie after all. ‘You okay?’ he said.
She stared at him as if she had just seen him for the first time; her face was as unsettled as the sky, her mouth trembling and her gaze rushing frantically all over him and past him too. Could she see it was over?
She shook her head finally and clasped Toby to her. ‘I haven’t seen him,’ she whispered, and as she turned to leave, the first fat drops of rain began to fall.