Chapter 17
An unfriendly wind rattled the loose guttering on the farmhand’s cottage, adding to the cacophony of noises that were keeping me awake. The walls creaked. The fridge hummed. A tap dripped somewhere, and the fan on the wood heater just wouldn’t shut up. Identifying each sound didn’t help me to tune them out the way I once had. Had I ever even noticed a watch ticking at night before? It wasn’t only the sounds either. The place smelled weird. Like old food and soap and antiseptic and peanuts, and yet I knew that Aunt Lily had been living there and would have kept the place rigorously clean. The scents weren’t overpowering, just very unfamiliar. And why did I feel so alone? It wasn’t like I hadn’t been sleeping alone all my life, so why was I feeling so … bereft? Maybe because Aunt Lily’s bed was so huge. And flat. It didn’t enfold me like my hammock did.
Rolling over yet again, I began to fluff up the pillow but froze as I heard another new sound. The floorboard outside the bedroom creaked, and a pair of luminous grey eyes appeared in the doorway.
‘It’s just me,’ Bane whispered. ‘Sorry if I scared you.’
Scared? I had forgotten what that even felt like. ‘Why would I be scared?’ I whispered back.
‘Most people don’t like it when strange men creep into their bedroom uninvited,’ he explained, waiting by the door. He was bare-chested and shivering, his thin grey pyjama pants doing very little to keep him warm against the autumn chill.
‘Oh. Well, come in then. I invite you. You can stop creeping.’
He paused for a moment longer. ‘I don’t know if I should,’ he said. ‘I mean, I know you think you know what you want but I’m not sure that you still will once you—’
‘What are you doing here? You should be asleep. You were very sick, and it was my fault, and now you’re cold. Why are you standing and shaking and not warm and sleeping? I don’t understand.’
His lips twitched, softening his expression. ‘You make everything sound so simple,’ he said with hushed laughter. ‘I just came to see if you were okay. I knew you weren’t asleep.’
Ah, I had forgotten about that. He always knew when I was awake. ‘Sorry. It’s a bit noisy. I’ll try harder.’
‘Noisy? Here? We’re in the middle of nowhere! All I can hear are the possums and the wind in the trees. You should try living in the city.’
I hadn’t noticed the possums. After the abundance of wildlife in Eden, that was the one sound that I had managed to tune out.
‘This place is strange,’ I complained. ‘I can’t get comfortable, no matter which side I lie on. Everything feels wrong. I don’t like it. And I’m lonely.’
He sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘Do you want me to …’ He paused, looked up at the ceiling and then gave a small fake cough. ‘Do you want me to go and get your aunt?’
I sat up and blinked at him. Why would I want that? Why couldn’t he just hold me like I knew he needed to? Wait, no. I knew this one. It would not be appropriate for us to share a bed. I didn’t even know if I had done the right thing when I’d kissed him earlier. It had felt like the right thing at the time, but then for the rest of the evening he’d kept his distance from me, just subtly. I could feel the conflict in his body language. It was totally baffling.
‘Aunt Lily won’t enjoy being woken up in the middle of the night,’ I told him, feeling like I was stating the obvious. ‘Would you like me to go and sleep somewhere else? Then you can sleep here. It’s got to be more comfortable than the couch. And warmer. I’ve already made you sick today and you shouldn’t feel like you have to hold me if you don’t want to. I keep forgetting that you need space—’
‘Space?’ he interrupted, snapping his eyes back to mine. ‘Don’t you dare! We’re not doing this again, Lainie! I don’t need space. I don’t want space! I’ve had more than enough space to last a lifetime and all I crave now is to hold you and never let you go, but you need time to adjust, so I’m trying to be careful and take things slowly.’
‘Slowly?’ I asked. ‘Because I need time?’
‘Then why don’t you hold me slowly?’
He opened his mouth as if to answer, but apparently couldn’t think of what to say, so then he laughed and crawled under the covers. His arms enfolded me even better than my hammock ever had.
The day, when it dawned, spun alarmingly. Everything was so grey and tangy. Where was my tree? Where was the sun? I frantically tried to make sense of where I was but then I felt Bane’s arm tighten around me and I relaxed into his embrace. He was really there, holding me, actual living flesh and blood, not just a memory. For a while I lay still and cherished his presence. Where I was didn’t matter. The mattress under us still felt strange and uncomfortable after my tree and hammock, yet the feel of his warm breath against the back of my neck was completely worth it.
As I snuggled against his chest, I listened to his breathing settle again. I was tempted to wake him up, but he had been so tired the night before. He’d fallen into a deep sleep almost as soon as I’d nestled my head on his shoulder. Without Fruit to help him recover, he needed lots of rest. I was proud of myself for remembering that. Concentrating hard, I tried to remember what else he might like so I could be ready to give it to him as soon as he woke. Something that would make him smile. Coffee, he liked coffee. What else? Music. He played instruments. I would teach him new songs. As much as I tried, I really couldn’t remember anything else so I decided to start with what I knew.
The floorboards were chilly as I tiptoed out of the room. What had happened to the old lino that used to curl up in the corners? The fake wood under my feet was just weird. I followed the grain all the way to the tiny kitchen of the old farmhand cottage and tried to focus on my first task. Brewing coffee. How did that work again? There was a machine that looked vaguely familiar, but it had buttons and levers and I was fairly certain I was going to screw it up if I tried to use it. Opening every cupboard, I searched around for the coffee tin. Surely every kitchen had coffee somewhere? Eventually I just put the old kettle on, relieved that I at least recognised what it was, and then set about making breakfast, raiding the fruit bowl and trying not to care about the lack of variety in it.
The next thing I knew, Bane came blundering into the kitchen, crashing through chairs to get to me. He moved me away from the stove, switching off all the knobs and nearby power points.
‘Lainie, that’s not quite how it works,’ he said, his husky morning-voice sounding tense. The kettle was spitting like a frightened lizard and boiling over because I’d overfilled it. I squeezed back some unruly tears. Aunt Lily was going to be cross with me and I didn’t want anyone cross with me.
‘It’s all right,’ he assured me. ‘Be patient with yourself. It’ll all come back to you soon, I promise.’
He looked down at the meal I had laid out for us, and then glanced back at me in amazement. The orange I had carved for him looked like one of the flowers I could see from my shelter in Eden. I had found some other vegetables too. One by one he examined them. Each one was a replica of a plant or animal from across the Boundary. I couldn’t tell him about it, or write anything down, but I could carve images. No way could I begin to understand how that was supposed to work.
I picked up a butterfly-shaped pear and held it to his lips.
‘Lainie, that’s far too beautiful to eat, it would be a waste!’ he exclaimed, stretching out a fingertip to touch it.
Why was everything so confusing? I wasn’t doing anything right. How could something be too beautiful to eat? He’d seen it. It wasn’t wasted. Not eating it would have been wasteful. I tossed the pear back and slumped into my chair.
‘Okay! It’s okay. I’ll eat it. I was trying to tell you that it was pretty, that’s all,’ he said, pulling out a chair for himself.
Then why didn’t he just say that? My teeth snapped together in annoyance. It was going to be a very complicated day.
As he nibbled on the butterfly, I studied his movements, taking note of every subtle cue. The language he didn’t even know he was using. He looked different this morning, healthier, more relaxed. He was still wearing the loose pants he’d slept in and hadn’t had time to put on a shirt in his rush to prevent me from getting electrocuted. His hair was much shorter than the last time I had seen him, but still looked beautifully sleep-tousled. His enormous pale grey eyes were locked on mine and they were full of joy. And questions. It was obvious that he wanted to know why I had come back so I started to tell him about Dallmin. After a few seconds he stopped me.
‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what you’re trying to say.’
Right. English. Out loud. I knew that. I took a breath and started again. The words sounded so harsh to my ears. For so long I had only spoken in English to Annie and Dallmin, and only really when Dallmin had pestered me to teach him. It was a good thing he’d learnt so fast, he would need it now.
I expected Bane to be horrified by what Annie and I had done, letting Dallmin cross over the Event Horizon so easily, and yet he looked happy. So I asked him why.
‘Because it means I have time. I agree that we need to find him as soon as possible, but I was worried you might change your mind and leave again too quickly for me to convince you not to,’ he explained.
‘You don’t want me to go back.’
He put down the pear, took hold of my hand and looked me right in the eye. ‘Of course not. But I know you were happy there so I’m not certain what you want.’
At last, he was starting to make sense. He thought I had two wants.
‘Are you happy to be home?’ His words were careful, like he was asking someone if they were ready to turn off a loved one’s life support machine. So serious.
I glanced out the window to where the grey hills stretched up to try to hold on to the last of the morning stars. Different, and yet still pretty. I would never tire of that view.
‘It smells like baking cookies here. Not literally,’ I clarified, wincing at the burnt electrical smell that didn’t bode well for the kettle. ‘I mean in my heart. It smells like cookies in my heart.’
‘You like cookies.’ His voice was hopeful, although somewhat uncertain. ‘You want—’
‘I want you. I understand that now,’ I butted in, automatically signing as well, to make myself very clear.
He looked both relieved and joyful, but as I leant over to kiss him he pulled away again, whispering something under his breath. Things were complicated here and I was having trouble reading him again.
‘Bane? Do you have two wants? Have you been happy?’ I tried to remember the reasons I’d thought he would be happy for me to be gone. He’d had other things to do and couldn’t be near me to do them. Like the army. ‘Army!’ I cried in a sort of squeaky whisper. What if he had joined the army and had to leave me?
‘No, Lainie. I have not been very happy. I only ever wanted you. I joined the Army Reserves because Lily said you wanted me to, and because I thought I could learn something that might help if … if you ever came back and …’ he swallowed. He didn’t wish to tell me. I shrugged. Then I’d rather not know.
‘All is well,’ I reassured him, smiling as I realised how dippy that must sound to anyone who didn’t know Annie. Then I remembered something else. ‘Do you have to go back? There are … rules?’ The whole concept felt wrong. He should do whatever he liked.
‘No. It’s just the Reserves. I’m free to leave at any time. I’ve already told Tim.’
‘Yes. He’s a good friend. I owe him a lot.’
I brightened. ‘Then I’ll give him something. What does he like?’
Bane’s mouth twitched in an almost-smile as he thought about it. ‘He likes a lot of the same things you do.’
The almost-smile finally blossomed into a soft laugh. ‘I was thinking more along the lines of comics, gaming and really fat books, but food works too. He’s always hungry.’
With a grin, I grabbed a piece of carved fruit from the table and darted out of the cottage, racing toward the main house. When he caught me halfway up the hill I got distracted again, as I taught him to play the way people played in Eden. We chased each other around the home paddock laughing and throwing gumnuts at each other until Bane tripped over Wendy, who was clearly on my team, and then slipped in the mud and the dog and I won fair and square.
The sun had recently risen and I could hear the rooster announcing to the world how handsome he was. A light mist rose from the dam, swirling around the wood ducks as they glided through the water leaving serene little v-shaped ripples behind them. It wasn’t so bad here. Not if I could still play. I showed him how to run up a tree trunk and flip over. He picked it up quickly. Then I taught him one of the easy dances I’d learnt. That was no problem for him as I knew it wouldn’t be.
We danced together on the lawn until I got bored and bowled him over onto the damp grass so I could have a rest. He laughed while I peppered him with kisses and traced my fingers down his muscled arms, marvelling at the change in his physique since I had last seen him. My fingertips lingered on a long-faded scar on his right wrist. It looked like it had been a really painful wound and I noticed him watching me warily. Obviously he didn’t want me to ask about it so I kissed him deeply instead. A few moments later he pulled away, looking apologetic. I smiled and shrugged. If he didn’t feel like kissing me now, that was fine. Sort of. I was beginning to remember what it was like to have conflicting desires.
‘We need to take it slow for now, is that okay?’ he asked, sounding a bit uncomfortable.
‘Of course,’ I smiled, laying my head on his chest, looking at his wrist again. Something about his scar was bothering me and I couldn’t quite focus on what it was. Rather than fret about it, I closed my eyes and listened to his heart beat. It beat in perfect time with the music of the river—it was wonderfully soothing.
Eventually I remembered Tim and jumped up and bolted to the house before Bane could stop me, picking up the fruit on the way. I tiptoed in through the back door, down the hallway and into the lounge room, where there was a snoring tangle of long limbs asleep on the sofa. Still panting slightly, I leant over and kissed him to wake him up. A bleary eye opened, focused on me, and then with a weird gargling sort of yell, Tim leapt up and tripped over the end of the sofa, tangling his foot in his woollen blanket as he went. Crouching down, he clutched at the blanket, trying to cover himself up. He was wearing silky looking shorts, what was the problem? Had I done something wrong again? I glanced back at Bane who was laughing so hard that he snorted. Heartened, I turned back to Tim and held the apple out.
Tim looked from me to Bane, and then at my little gift. His eyes widened. ‘Is that an apple?’ His voice still slurred and sleepy.
I nodded. It was shaped like a humming bird. I had practised for weeks to get it right and it was one of my favourites. It was only a little bit muddy from being dumped on the grass while Bane and I were dancing.
Tim took it from me and inspected it with his eyes all squinty. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it. It looks like something you’d find in an expensive Malaysian hotel. Did you make this?’
‘Yup,’ I said, out loud and all.
He stood there, looking uncertain, and I whimpered in frustration. Not him too. It was food.
‘You’d better eat it, mate, she’ll only get confused if you don’t,’ Bane told his friend in an amused tone.
Tim nibbled on a wingtip, wincing as if it was a real bird. Somehow I would have to find something better to give him. He’d brought Bane home to me so I wanted to make him as happy as I could.
‘Come on, Lainie, let’s give him a chance to wake up. How about we go back to the cottage so we can get out of our pyjamas and then we can make some pancakes, if you like.’
I didn’t understand why Tim needed a chance to wake up. He was already awake, wasn’t he? I followed Bane out the front door anyway. Pancakes sounded fun.
‘I can’t believe how long your hair is,’ Bane said, tying my thick plait into a giant knot while I licked syrup from my fingertips. ‘Did you need it to escape from a tower or something?’
I glowered at Noah, who grinned back. Tying my hair in knots used to be one of his favourite pastimes when we were kids, so he knew how I felt about it.
‘She probably never even once considered cutting it in the last three years,’ Noah said, showing Bane how it was done by sticking a spoon handle into the knot just to see if it would stay. ‘We’ll have to get the shearers to clip it when they come to do the sheep. Ordinary scissors won’t cope.’
The look on his face challenged me to come up with a clever retort, but his smile dissolved quickly when all I could manage was to splutter out a couple of words. ‘Three years?’
With a groan he undid my ridiculous hair style and crouched down next to my chair. ‘Just over three. You left in January, and it’s now the end of April.’ He gripped my hand and looked me in the eye, concern clouding his sunny expression.
‘Not possible. Don’t even joke about something like that,’ I complained, cross that he would mess with me that way. I yanked my hand away, rolled up another pancake and added it to my sculpture. Across the table, Aunt Lily sighed and I refused to look at her. The last thing I wanted to see was that sympathetic look in her eyes that meant that Noah was telling the truth.
Tessa stood up and produced an overly sunny smile. ‘Tim, could you please give me a hand hanging out the washing? It’s a big basket and I’m not supposed to lift anything heavy.’
‘Of course,’ he said, nicking one more pancake from the stack by the stove before following her out. Everyone else stayed silent until we heard the laundry door close. Then they all looked at me with puppy dog eyes.
‘Time travels the same in Eden as it does here,’ I insisted, poking a toothpick savagely into my pancake unicorn’s forehead. ‘And I’ve only been gone a year … or so.’
Noah crossed his arms. ‘What colour is it now?’ he asked me, stumbling a little on the words. Talking about the Living Fruit was difficult, especially with Aunt Lily in the room, but I knew what he meant.
‘Orange,’ I mumbled, feeling a little sick, yet determined to prove myself right.
‘And how many times have you seen it change to orange?’
Plucking at my lower lip, I tried to think. There had been that time when Beltana had first told me what orange was like. I remembered because Noah had visited soon after, and I’d chased him around until he agreed to taste it and he’d made a stupid joke about Adam never having stood a chance, and I’d had to remind him that Adam was supposed to eat the Living Fruit—it was the other tree that had caused all the problems. It was when he’d come to tell me that the government had put a hold on all coal seam gas mining and were planning a parliamentary inquiry into its side effects. The mine north of the farm had miraculously run out of gas anyway—he’d come back to tell me that too … Then the next time I remembered thinking that it seemed like such a short time since I had last seen it turn orange …
‘It’s no good,’ I shrugged. ‘I can’t remember. It’s all too hazy.’
Over by the bench, Bane was scowling into his coffee mug. He looked upset, and I couldn’t work out why.
My aunt passed me a cup of tea and a damp cloth. There was lemon juice all over my hands which I hadn’t really noticed. ‘Are we sure that time moves the same?’ she asked.
‘Yeah,’ Noah replied. ‘Technically it does. But it … feels different. Kind of like when you play a really good computer game and suddenly realise that it’s four am.’
Bane tossed his nearly full mug of coffee into the sink and then proceeded to collect everyone’s dishes whether they’d finished with them or not. Definitely annoyed. His body language was clear. I had done something he didn’t like. I opened my mouth to ask what the problem was, but he glanced away. He didn’t want to talk about it, so I kept quiet. Instead I sat still while Noah filled me in on everything I had missed.