The rain began in earnest a few minutes after Abbie started painting again, and the light, which had been fading as the cloud increased, suddenly sank into a dismal gloom. She switched on lights but it was impossible to continue with what she’d been working on, so she cleaned up, took out her sketchpad and sat on the small back porch making notes of the way the rain and the wind altered the trees surrounding the garden. Her final canvas began to take shape in her mind. A rainy bush-scape. Not a stormy scene, one of lighter rainfall, the kind that softened the trees and released the powerful scent of eucalyptus into the atmosphere. Maybe with shafts of sunlight breaking through the clouds.
Humming softly, eyes flicking from trees to page as her pencil raced, she was so immersed in ideas the sound of footsteps hurrying along the wet path down the side of the house sent her heart into overdrive. She stood up clutching the pad and pencil, and backed towards the door.
‘Hi, Abbie. You didn’t hear us knocking.’ Kaelee and Aaron, rounded the corner, both carrying grocery bags. ‘Sorry, we came back early. It’s raining really hard in town and we were a bit worried about driving in the wet.’
She exhaled the trapped lungful of air and smiled. ‘That’s okay. It’s too dark to paint now anyway.’
‘Is chicken curry all right?’ Kaelee asked. ‘Aaron does a really good curry, and we have dessert.’
‘Sounds lovely.’
‘I’ll get started.’ The screen door banged as Aaron went inside.
Kaelee started after him but Abbie said quickly, ‘Kaelee, can I talk to you, please, about Georgia?’
An odd expression flitted across her face. Fear? Not quite. Surprise, yes, but more like alarm. ‘I have to get this into the fridge.’ She lifted the grocery bag slightly and darted for the door.
‘Fine, can we talk later?’ Abbie said, but the door had closed. She shut the sketchpad and pushed her chair back against the wall. The rain hadn’t eased at all but the flurry of wind had died away, leaving the drops falling in relentless vertical streaks. The temperature had dropped, she needed a jumper.
Voices sounded inside. She paused at the door, listening. Aaron was insisting on something in a firm decisive tone but the pounding of the rain made his words indecipherable. Kaelee’s voice was a murmur, acquiescent and submissive, almost inaudible.
When Abbie stepped inside Aaron looked up, a smile immediately appearing. Kaelee turned her back and put things in the fridge.
‘Pots and pans are in that cupboard,’ Abbie said, pointing. ‘Anything else you need, just ask.’
‘Thanks, but I’ve had a poke about already. I’m all set.’
‘Do either of you need a hand?’
‘No, this is our thank you to you for letting us stay.’
‘In that case, how about a glass of wine? I’ll watch you cook and we can talk.’
Abbie took three glasses and a bottle of red wine from the cupboard.
***
An intense pain in the stomach pulled Abbie awake with a gasp. The bedside clock showed ten-fifty in luminous digits. She’d only been asleep twenty minutes. Rain still fell outside. She lay on her side, gritting her teeth against the cramping and the increasing nausea. Her stomach heaved and she scrambled for the door and the toilet across the hallway. Vomit rose in her throat and dinner made a dramatic reappearance just as she dropped to her knees by the bowl.
Wave after wave consumed her body and she stayed on the floor, shuddering and gasping, sweat clammy on hands and forehead. The light flicked on but she could barely lift her head to register the other person’s presence.
‘Are you okay, Abbie?’ Aaron’s voice. He didn’t sound very sympathetic and it was a stupid question anyway. Who chose to lounge around on the toilet floor?
She grunted and stretched out to tear off some toilet paper to wipe her streaming eyes and mouth.
‘I hope my cooking didn’t do this to you. Kaelee and I are okay, so it must have been something else.’
‘Don’t know.’
‘Anything I can do?’
‘No.’
‘Okay.’ He left the light on but went away.
Abbie stayed where she was until the paroxysms ceased then levered herself upright, pressed flush and staggered into the bathroom to wash. Kaelee appeared in the doorway.
‘Let me help you,’ she said but remained where she was.
Abbie supported herself by leaning on the basin, head bowed. Her stomach ached. ‘I’m okay now, I think. I just want to lie down.’
‘Maybe I should get a bowl in case.’
‘There’s a bucket in the laundry.’ Abbie looked at herself in the mirror. A waxy-skinned pale face stared back, hair lank and tousled. Where had this come from? What the hell had she eaten? It couldn’t have been dinner because they were fine but she hadn’t eaten anything else except a Gingernut biscuit with her tea midafternoon.
Towel in hand, she shuffled across the hallway to her bedroom using the walls and doorframe as support, and collapsed onto her bed. Kaelee came in with the red bucket from the laundry and a glass of water.
‘I thought you might need a drink.’ She placed the glass on the bedside table and the bucket on the floor.
‘Thanks,’ Abbie murmured.
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Not your fault.’ Her eyes closed.
She heard Kaelee move away and the door gently click shut. She wanted to say leave it open but didn’t have the strength. The bucket was by the bed anyway. Her stomach ached, as did the muscles strained by retching. Whatever it was seemed to have been emptied out of her system, thank god.
Ten minutes later another spasm hit but now there was hardly anything left except the water she’d swallowed when rinsing her mouth. Dry-retching was exhausting but at least she could stay in bed between bouts.
By morning, the vomiting had ceased but her body felt as though she’d run a marathon and been run over by a steamroller. All she wanted was sleep. The door opened softly and Kaelee crept in.
‘How are you feeling?’ she whispered.
‘Awful.’
Kaelee picked up the bucket. ‘I’ll clean this out. Can I get you anything?’
‘No.’
‘Aaron says we’ll stay until you’re better.’
‘You don’t need to.’
‘We can’t leave you like this.’
‘Okay. Thanks.’
‘Should I call a doctor?’
‘No. It must have been some bug, that’s all. I’ll stay in bed and get up later.’
‘All right, but call if you want anything.’
‘Thanks.’
Abbie slipped into a doze, and when she woke the sun was shining strongly through the gap in the curtains. She blinked against the light but managed to sit up and rinse her mouth out with the water, taking care not to swallow any, just in case. Sleep overcame her again and the next time she woke she needed the toilet. The house was silent when she opened the door and crossed the hallway, but when she came out and went to wash in the bathroom, Aaron was standing outside the door.
‘How are you?’
‘A bit better.’ She washed her hands and splashed water on her face, conscious of him watching.
‘You don’t need to stay any longer,’ she said. ‘I’ll be all right now.’
‘It’s no trouble.’
She turned to face him. ‘Thanks, but it’s not necessary.’
‘I think it is.’
‘I don’t.
‘What if you’re sick again?’
‘I’ll manage. I’ve been sick before.’
She edged past him and went to her room. Her legs were weak as string but she forced herself to walk without clutching at the wall or doors for support. She closed her bedroom door and climbed into bed with a sigh of relief. Five minutes later, her eyes popped open.
What was that about?
Aaron’s insistence on staying was on the unnerving side. Was he poking about in her studio? Was he trustworthy? What were they doing in her house while she was asleep? Better not lie here being helpless.
She sat up and swung her legs to the floor. A shower would make her feel better and she could try some dry toast or a cracker biscuit. If they stayed down she’d probably survive. Every move was slow and feeble but Abbie gathered clean clothes, collected a clean towel and had a shower. She did feel better after it and definitely smelled better. She examined her reflection as she rubbed moisturiser into her face. Slightly improved colour now and the clamminess had gone. She brushed her hair and clipped it into a loose bun.
Some food would restore energy, but she’d have to be careful.
She headed for the kitchen but paused as she passed the closed door of the spare room. They should be getting ready to leave. Voices came from the kitchen. A low laugh from Aaron, the clink of crockery, smell of food cooking. Making themselves at home.
She stood in the doorway, her nostrils tightening against the odour of frying bacon. They must have bought that; she never ate it.
‘Hello, how about bacon and eggs, Abbie?’ Aaron flourished the spatula. Kaelee was at the toaster.
‘No thanks.’ The kitchen clock said eleven-five. They could eat and leave.
‘Toast?’ Kaelee turned with a plate of fresh toast.
‘I think I’ll just have a cracker biscuit.’ She went to the pantry cupboard.
‘Have some vegemite on it,’ Aaron said.
‘Plain will do.’
Kaelee began buttering the toast and smearing vegemite.
Abbie took the unopened packet of crackers and a plate to the table where she sank on to a chair before her legs gave out. Plain, dry crackers but they tasted fine and took the edge off the hollowness in her ravaged stomach. Two places were set with cutlery, mugs and a side plate each.
‘I wonder what caused it,’ said Kaelee.
‘No idea.’ Having the shower and dressing had drained her meagre reserves of energy, but she wasn’t going back to bed and leaving these two unsupervised. She should call Connie Benson to come over, then this pair wouldn’t feel they had to stay.
She levered herself to her feet and moved slowly to the phone on the sideboard. No dial tone. Nothing.
‘Phone’s dead,’ she said.
‘Must have been the storm,’ Aaron said casually. He slid eggs and bacon onto two plates.
‘We didn’t have a storm.’
‘It was raining, though, and windy. Maybe a branch fell off a tree onto the wire. There are plenty of trees around.’
‘Maybe.’ It could be anything, it wouldn’t be the first time her line was out of action.
‘Who were you calling?’ He sat at the table. Kaelee brought the toast and the plate of eggs for him then went back for her own.
‘My neighbour.’
‘Why?’ Aaron chose a piece of toast and took a bite from one corner.
‘Is that your business?’
He shrugged and scooped up a forkful of egg.
Kaelee ate, head bowed.
‘How about the tea?’ Aaron said.
Kaelee leapt from the chair and filled the kettle. Abbie’s floral teapot waited on the bench. They must have opened cupboards to find that and the leaf tea. She made do with tea bags unless visitors came.
‘When you’ve finished eating you should go,’ Abbie said. ‘I’ll be fine now.’
‘We can stay,’ said Aaron. ‘You don’t look well.’
‘As I said before there’s no need, and as I also said before I need to work. Alone, so I can concentrate.’
Aaron didn’t reply. Kaelee concentrated on making the tea. She brought the pot to the table and went back for milk and the sugar bowl. Also something Abbie never used.
She nibbled more of her cracker. There was a whole other something going on here. Why would he be so insistent on staying? What could he want?
‘Why do you want to stay?’
‘We like it here. It’s peaceful and quiet. Isolated.’
‘It’s not as isolated as you think,’ she said sharply.
‘Isn’t it?’ He stopped eating and stared at her with a half-smile twisting his mouth. ‘I don’t think anyone would hear you scream.’
‘Scream? Why would I scream?’ She couldn’t hide the surprise.
‘You might be hurt. In trouble. Anything.’ He speared the last piece of bacon and scraped it around the plate. ‘Like last night.’
‘I think you’ve seen way too many horror movies.’
That shrug again. Insolent now, as he chewed.
‘You’re very interesting.’ Aaron pushed his empty plate away and Kaelee jumped up to remove it. ‘Your work, I mean.’
‘I really think it’s time you left now, please. I need to get to work.’
‘Okay. Let me finish my tea.’
‘I’ll wash the dishes,’ Kaelee said quickly.
‘Don’t bother, I can do it.’ Abbie stood up.
Kaelee flung a glance at Aaron which could only be described as desperate.
‘Get our things, Kaelee,’ he said.
Abbie remained where she was. She wanted to talk to Kaelee but she didn’t want to leave this man alone in her house a moment longer. He lingered over his tea, a half-smile never leaving his lips.
‘How are you feeling?’ he asked suddenly.
‘Fine.’
‘You don’t look fine.’
‘Maybe, but I am.’
His eyebrows flicked up and down as the smile widened, almost laughing, but he picked up the mug and drained it.
‘You ready, Kaelee?’ he called.
‘Yes.’ She appeared in the doorway with an overnight bag and jackets.
‘Okay, let’s get out of here.’ He jumped to his feet, knocking the chair back so it swayed on its rear legs and almost fell. ‘We’ll need the key to open the gate.’
‘I’ll come with you and walk back,’ Abbie said.
‘Are you strong enough?’ Kaelee asked with a worried frown.
‘She’s fine, she just told me,’ Aaron said. ‘By the way, Abbie, do you have Georgia’s address?’
‘I don’t know where she lives at the moment. She moved,’ she added before he could make any disparaging remarks.
Abbie slipped the boots on that stood by the back door and took the keys from her bag. She latched the back door and led the pair through to the front, locking the door behind her. On the verandah, she paused. Would she be able to walk back? It was only about two hundred metres but she was already tired from moving about the house. ‘I’ll follow you in my car.’
‘Goodbye, Abbie. Thank you,’ said Kaelee.
‘Goodbye, Kaelee.’
Aaron strode towards the white car without a word. Abbie said quickly, ‘Kaelee, how was Georgia when you saw her?’
‘Oh. I didn’t …’
‘Kaelee! Hurry up.’ Aaron was in the driver’s seat with the door open. For someone who didn’t want to leave, he was in a hurry now.
‘Sorry.’ Kaelee ran down the steps.
Abbie went to the garage and backed out. Aaron was already moving off down the driveway. At the gate she parked behind him, unlocked and opened the gate and waved him through before securing the chain again. The white car accelerated down the road in the direction of the highway.
Abbie sagged against the gate, exhaling in relief. Adrenaline had kept her upright until now. Thank god she’d driven; she never would have managed the walk back to the house, she was exhausted. She turned the car in the narrow space and drove home shaking with weariness, concentrating fiercely on staying on the track.
Back in the house, she went straight to her bedroom and lay down. Four hours later she woke, thirsty and starving. Annoyingly, the day had been completely wasted and to top it off, in the kitchen she was faced with the debris of her visitors’ cooking. At least they’d gone. What a walloping great mistake inviting them to stay had been. Never again. And she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that somehow her illness was connected to their visit. Why or how this might be she had no idea.
As soon as the dishes were washed and put away, she began preparing her own meal of vegetable soup and toast. She ate watching the news on TV, a depressing occupation given the state of world affairs, but after that a detective series came on that she enjoyed whenever she remembered to watch it. When that finished she was yawning, and only then did she realise she’d totally forgotten about the book group.
She picked up the phone. Still no dial tone, which was odd. Maybe it was just the line to her house that was at fault. She could use her mobile but that involved more effort than she was capable of at the moment. She’d just have to miss the meeting and apologise tomorrow after a good sleep. She’d go next door and check with the Bensons. In the morning. Now it was bedtime.
***
Abbie’s eyes popped open. Something had woken her. A noise outside. Could have been a possum, but somehow she doubted it. This was more like scraping. She waited, ears straining. Silence.
A board creaked. In the house? She sat up, heart hammering, staring at the paler rectangle of the open doorway in the dark room. Waiting.
‘Who’s there?’ she called.
Silence.
The breath she’d been holding whooshed out and she sucked air back in with a deep gasp. Her heart galloped like a mad thing. Should she get up? Turn on a light? That would mean whoever was there would know where she was. But they’d already know because she’d spoken. A clammy sweat formed on her skin.
If she stayed in bed she was helpless, trapped.
She lifted the doona carefully and slid her legs out, standing as quietly as she could, grimacing when the fabric rustled. Barefoot, she crept to the door, the hair on her neck prickling.
The scraping noise came again but it was outside, and then the thunder of possum racing sounded on the roof overhead. Never had she been so pleased to hear that sound. Weak with relief, she went back to bed. No way was she telling Rupe how scared she’d been.
***
Rupe called in at Laurie’s store for a carton of milk and a chat on Friday morning. The chat was an obligatory part of shopping there, not that Rupe minded. If anyone did mind they’d go to the supermarket instead.
He leaned his hip against the counter as Laurie rang up the milk.
‘I’ve been trying to call Abbie,’ Laurie said. ‘Phone’s not working. Could be the wires are down after the rain the other night.’
‘Have you reported it?’
‘Nah, not yet.’
‘I’ll do it.’
‘It’s just she wanted this order that’s just come in. Paints. She said call her and she’d come in and collect it.’
‘I can take it out to her this afternoon. Half-day shift today.’
‘Okay. I reckon I can trust a policeman. You’ll have to sign for it though.’ Chuckling, he disappeared into the backroom and came back with some mail and a box. Rupe signed the form and tucked the parcel and letters under his arm.
‘Marlene was in this morning. She said Abbie didn’t turn up to their book group last night.’
‘She had visitors the day before, maybe they stayed on. Thanks, Laurie. See you later.’
Back at the station he tried calling Abbie then, getting no response, reported the fault. He phoned Tim to see if their line was down. Connie answered.
‘It’ll be the line to her house. It was very windy for a bit along with the rain, probably a branch came down on it.’
‘Righto. Thanks.’
After lunch Rupe changed out of uniform and drove his own car out to Abbie’s. Her gate was locked so he parked, balanced the box on the gatepost, climbed over and walked. A few puddles still lay on the track. She needed to get a grader in and level it, or at least mow the long grass between the wheel ruts.
The phone line ran from a post near the gate and continued parallel to the track until it disappeared in the trees when he rounded a curve. Looked all right. Might be worth taking a detour on his way back and checking where it was down.
No more reports of a prowler had come this week but perhaps he’d moved areas. Was pulling down a phone line part of his modus operandi? No damage reports had come in from anywhere else so this was unlikely to be connected.
He crested the rise and the house came into view, peaceful in the sunlit clearing. The lilacs along the side wall were past their peak now but still put on a show and already, after the rain, the grass had a fresh green tinge.
He clumped up the steps and knocked on the door.
‘Who’s there?’ She sounded cautious. Still frightened after the odd incidents?
‘It’s Rupe. I have your paints.’
The lock clicked and the door opened to reveal Abbie smiling with far more welcoming enthusiasm than he expected.
‘Hi.’
‘Hello,’ he said. ‘Laurie has been trying to phone you about this.’ He held out the box and the mail and she took it.
‘Thank you! Come in.’
‘Your phone’s not working,’ he said as he followed her through to the kitchen.
‘I know. It stopped yesterday, or maybe it was the night before.’
‘Must have been the storm. Anyway, I reported it for you but who knows when they’ll get over here to fix it.’
‘Thanks. It’s a nuisance because I have to go up the hill or down the road to use the mobile.’ She put the box on the table. ‘Where’s your car?’
‘At the gate.’
‘There’s a key on a tree. You told me to put one there.’ She grinned.
‘I forgot.’ He returned the smile. ‘Doesn’t matter. It’s a nice walk. How were the visitors?’
She hesitated. ‘Kaelee is sweet but her boyfriend … not so keen on him. He was a bit weird.’
‘Weird how?’ He knew he was frowning and consciously relaxed his face muscles, but the natural suspicion of coincidences was hard to shake. Why would those two turn up right now?
‘He was pissed off when I wouldn’t let him see what I was working on and after that he was … odd. He made me feel uncomfortable. He didn’t seem to want to leave.’
‘They’ve gone though, haven’t they?’
‘Yes, after I insisted.’
‘How did he take that?’ Definitely not normal behaviour.
‘Not particularly happy. I don’t think people say no to him very often. Kaelee certainly doesn’t. But tough; I have work to do.’
‘What’s his name?’
‘Aaron. I don’t know his other name.’
‘Hmmm.’
‘What does hmmm mean?’
‘Is it a coincidence they should turn up straight after the other thing?’ he asked cautiously.
‘You said that before and I think it was. Coincidences do happen, you know.’ Her voice had tightened.
‘I know, but still …’
‘And do you think the phone line being down and me being sick is connected too?’
‘When were you sick?’
‘The night before last. They cooked dinner and I threw up in the night. They weren’t sick so it couldn’t have been the food.’
‘What was it, then?’ Three out-of-the-ordinary things on top of an extremely odd occurrence? Surely she wasn’t ignoring a possible connection.
Abbie shrugged and turned away to the bench. She opened a drawer, took out scissors and ran the blade along the tape holding the box closed. ‘No idea. Could have been anything.’
‘Abbie …’
‘I’m fine now. I got rid of whatever it was and that was that. Don’t worry.’
‘It’s hard not to, a bit. You out here on your own …’
She looked up sharply and suddenly he was gazing into her eyes, barely breathing with the intensity, the surprise, the intimacy. The moment stretched … thoughts whirled in his head but the overwhelming one was kiss her … now … he leaned forward and touched his lips lightly to hers. She didn’t move but she also didn’t respond.
‘Sorry.’ He shrugged and tried a smile, stepped back.
‘It’s okay. You surprised me.’ A little wrinkle appeared in her brow.
‘I surprised me.’
She smiled then. ‘It’s been a long time.’
‘Yes. For me too, I mean.’
‘Thank you. I’m flattered.’
‘You’re welcome.’ He laughed and shook his head. ‘Age makes me cautious. Twenty years ago it would have been different.’
‘Twenty years ago I was married with a baby so yes, definitely different.’
‘You know what I mean.’
She sighed. ‘I do. Age and experience.’
‘I’m not sure if that makes things better or harder.’
‘Instincts don’t change, now we just think first.’
‘I didn’t, not really.’
She tilted her head, the smile widening. ‘And after you’ve thought?’
‘I doubt it would make much difference.’
‘Oh, really?’ Challenging him, laughing. Flirting.
He moved closer and his hand lifted all by itself and cupped her cheek, soft and warm under his fingers.
A sudden torrent of banging on the front door startled him, focused as he was on the lips he was about to explore in more detail. ‘Who on earth is that?’
‘Definitely Rita.’ Abbie groaned. ‘She can complain to you this time. Come on.’
Rupe followed, cursing under his breath, but it was probably just as well they’d been interrupted; no telling where this would have ended. Kissing Abbie was nice and she didn’t mind, that was clear, but where would going down that path lead? To problems, and problems in a small town became common property, a prospect neither of them would enjoy. A kiss was one thing but he wasn’t ready for a relationship.
Abbie opened the door and stepped outside.
‘Hello, Rita. How are you?’
The narrowed eyes flicked to Rupe, who pushed the screen door wide and stood next to Abbie on the verandah.
‘Good morning, Rita.’
A pair of dark eyes glared at him from under a shapeless woollen hat. She pulled her battered anorak tighter across her bony frame.
‘I hope you’ve come to follow up my complaints and tell her to stop knocking my fences down,’ she growled.
‘I haven’t been near your fences,’ said Abbie. ‘It was the storm. My phone’s not working and it’s probably a branch down.’
‘Hardly a storm, a bit of rain and wind. It’s not a branch or the power would go out too. It’s on the same pole. My phone’s working. Think I don’t know the difference between a branch and someone deliberately knocking a post over? I’m not from the city. I know what goes on.’
‘Was that what you came over for?’ asked Abbie. ‘You mentioned the fence a few weeks ago.’
‘No, it’s not. You tell your friends not to cut through my land.’
‘My friends? I don’t know who you mean.’ Abbie flung Rupe a surprised glance.
‘People. Walking through my paddocks as if they owned them. You tell them to keep off or I’ll get out the shotgun. Trespassers get shot. You tell them that. Bloody city people. Got no respect for anyone.’
‘Rita, you can’t go shooting people. There other ways of dealing with this. Calling me is one, talking to them is another,’ said Rupe. ‘Did you talk to them? Ask what they were doing? Get their names or their car rego number?’
‘No. Couldn’t see them properly, they were too far away and I didn’t see any car.’
‘What makes you think they were my friends?’ asked Abbie.
‘Who else would they be? They weren’t mine.’
Abbie exhaled and shook her head. ‘Rita …’ she began, but Rupe interrupted before she could get going.
‘How many people?’
‘Two or three. Maybe there were more.’
‘How old? Men or women?’
‘Young. One man, maybe another, maybe a woman. Dunno.’
Where were they?’
‘Up in the top paddock.’
‘I’ll come over and take a look around.’
‘Don’t bother.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yeah, they’ve gone now.’
‘When did you see them?’
‘Yesterday morning.’ A bony finger with a blackened, dirty nail waggled at Abbie. ‘Just you tell your friends to keep off my property.’
‘Will do.’
Rita grunted, gave them both a final glare and stomped down the steps and away to the left along a path almost invisible in the grass.
‘Goodbye,’ called Abbie.
‘Is there a gate between your properties or does she hop over the fence?’ Rupe asked.
‘She climbs through. It’s only strands of wire.’
‘Who do you reckon she was talking about? That couple who visited you?’
‘I’ve no idea but I doubt it was them. They weren’t the types to go walking about in the bush, and why would they?’ Abbie opened the screen door. ‘I have work to do.’
‘Right. I’ll get going.’
‘Oh sorry. I don’t mean to be rude but I really am behind. Thanks for bringing the paints out.’
‘No worries.’
She stepped inside and turned, still holding the door wide. ‘Okay, well, thanks. Goodbye.’
‘See you later.’
At least he knew why she’d missed the book group meeting. Rita had made a good point about the power. When he reached the trees, he made a detour across to where the phone and powerlines emerged from the bush. The phone line hung lower than the electricity wire. Both were slung between two poles and connected to the house. No problem there. He pushed his way through the undergrowth underneath the line as it headed for the road. Two poles farther along he found the break. A fallen branch wasn’t the cause. From what he could tell by the severed end of the short piece of line dangling from the pole and the other longer piece trailing on the ground, it had been cut. Deliberately cut, probably with pliers. Whoever did it wouldn’t have wanted to risk electrocution by touching the other one.