by Ryn Shell
He’d had a full restart in life after the accident that burnt him. Men seemed to appear from nowhere offering assistance. They had organised for his brother Trevor to get back home to his wife and son—funny how that roadhouse manager looked a bit like Trevor’s wife. Had the same name too, Rose. He could remember his brother from the Esperance hospital and the feelings he had when he looked at the photos of his brother’s wife and child. He still thought of them.
It was only recently there’d been a yearning, as if there was a part of him still needing to be healed. The best way he could describe the ache was to say that he was homesick for a home he’d never known. He had tried to explain that to the roadhouse manageress. He should at least call her Rose; last night they had slept in each other’s arms—strange that.
Lying with a woman for comfort without wanting sex—that had never happened before. Not that he hadn’t thought about it a few times. She was an attractive sort. She had nice curves. He hadn’t allowed himself to find out if they were real. He knew that wasn’t why she’d taken him into her room and settled him to rest on her bed.
Later, after she sat down and wrapped her arm around him, he’d just lain there, his mind in confusion, a confusion about something familiar, something altogether like nothing he’d experienced before.
When he woke and came out to get a cup of coffee, that son of hers, Carl, gave him a look that shot daggers at him and left nothing to the imagination as to what he thought about him. The daughter, Helen, was a sweetie, though.
He’d told Rose about the obscure government-funded program had picked up all the expenses, set him up with his first truck, deposited an obscenely large lump sum of money in the bank, and then disappeared. No one else in rehab had been as lucky as Linton. He did think it was all a bit fishy.
Linton had asked about what was left of his truck and was told that every last trace of his truck wreckage had been taken away and the road up the front of it had been graded.
He couldn’t recall anything like that happening before, even though his memory was blurred. Certainly there had been no traffic accident that he knew about that had received that type of treatment ever since. He still had that rock in his new truck—stashed somewhere. He kept it—sort of a memento and a toast to his power of survival.
That memory should remind him to do something about his loneliness. There wasn’t much point to being alive if you were not living life. Would Rose, the manageress, allow him to be more forward the next time they were alone together?
He decided it would need a man with more experience than he had to read the mixed messages she gave him. Then there was that lad of hers—best not go down that road.

The voices of the police officers arguing with a reporter filtered through from the waiting room. Linton strained to listen, found that difficult. He watched from the doorway so that he could piece together the conversation.
“Is it true that the Toora Loora Loora madman injured his wife and children before going on a rampage?”
“We’ve talked to a man about one incident. He has not been charged with a crime.”
“So, you’ve got the bloke who hurt the waitress?”
“We have an unwell man in our care, and we are waiting for a medical practitioner to examine him. We will not be charging him with anything. He is simply helping us with our enquiries. Unlike you, we are not jumping to hasty conclusions. Good day, Sir.”
Linton sank on to the chair. His head hurt like hell. He went over and over what that reporter had said. Was it true? Had he harmed his wife? What wife? How could he know he wasn’t a wife abuser if he did not know he’d ever been married? Did he harm his son? Was all that before the accident years ago? He’d been too ill to make much sense of things back then. But, he’d recovered. Kids could irritate him at times, but he was certain he’d never harm one. He guessed he was capable of going on a rampage.
Right now Linton felt that he didn’t know enough about himself. He wanted to see Trevor and his brother’s wife, that other Rose. They would have a family by now. Hopefully, their children would have turned out a little more sociable than Rose’s son at the roadhouse had been. Maybe the family could fill in that hidden part of him. It was time to go home.
27
News of an outback maniac they were calling the Toora Loora Loora truck driver only made page thirteen of the newspapers by the morning. However, Linton’s daughter, Helen, saw the story when she did her pocket money job of clearing the restaurant tables after the breakfast diners left.
Head trauma-induced brain damage, six-feet-two, blue eyes... Helen had known before she read the full article that it was about her daddy.
Carl phoned their uncle Trevor. “Can you come here?”
“Why?”
“Mum might need you. We found Dad. Well, he found us—I’ll explain how later. He isn’t well.”
Helen slipped in behind the counter to take the phone, her tear-filled eyes pleading. Carl handed the receiver to her.
She whispered hoarsely into the phone. “Daddy isn’t well because he got a knock on his head.” She huddled over the receiver, looking warily at half a dozen restaurant customers sitting at tables. She whispered slow and softly. “Dad—he’s sick. They say he’s insane.”
“Stay there,” Trevor said. “I’ll come and get you.”
Carl took the receiver from his sister. “Thank you, Uncle.”
“I’ll contact Doctor Marinovich,” Trevor said in a tense voice.
“Why?” Carl demanded. “Mum hasn’t seen him for months.”
“I think she might need him, now that your dad’s turned up,” Trevor said. “If this goes wrong, it might push her over the edge.”
Helen dragged Carl’s hand down to her ear and sobbed into the receiver. “I want a happily ever after for Mummy and Daddy.”
“Doctor Marinovich will help,” Trevor said.
“Can he fix things—mend Daddy?” Helen set her teeth firmly together.
“Happy for now is his business,” Trevor said. “He’s good at that. He’ll get that part right, and I bet that your mum and dad will get the ever after part going. You have to believe in us adults, honey. Can you do that?”
“I believe,” Helen said.
Carl tried to drag the earpiece of the phone up. Helen clung tight, being raised on tiptoe as she clung to it. “Got to give you back to Carl. He wants to talk. Love you, Uncle Trevor.”
“Love you Helen!”
Scowling, Carl shook off Helen’s grip. Speaking loud enough to turn the diners’ heads to see what was happening, he said, “Mum doesn’t need a doctor; she needs Dad—if he is Dad.”
“If?” Trevor asked.
“Well, Mum seems pretty sure.” Carl’s voice dropped to a shocked whisper. “She let him stay the night in her room. Said nothing happened.”
“You made her account for her actions?” Trevor’s voice deepened; the tone was abrupt.
“Well, she shouldn’t have done that,” Carl said forcefully. “He deserted her. She should have more pride than…” Carl broke into tears. His face was red and distraught. “How could she?”
Helen tugged at Carl’s arm. “Mummy said they didn’t do anything.”
“How would you know what I’m talking about?” Carl spluttered.
“Look here,” Trevor said. “I’m going to head for Moorabbin Airport. I’ll catch a private light plane flight, if there is one available, and get out there by tomorrow.”
“You can’t afford to do that.” Carl sniffed.
“Now, listen here, young man, it’s time you ceased acting like you are your mother’s parent. Time you stopped expecting her to justify her actions to you. Your mother is a mature woman, and it is high time everyone in this family treated her with the respect she deserves to make her own decisions. That means if she wants to spend the night with a total stranger or a man she’s loved for twenty years, then that is no one’s business but hers.”
“But, Uncle
, she has only just met him—again.”
“Were you even listening to what I said, Carl?”
“I guess…”
“Well, along those lines of not telling others how to live their lives, how about apologising to me for telling me that I cannot afford to fly out and see my brother, who saved my life. Don’t you think that might be more important to me than the damned cost of the air flight to get there?”
“I guess so.”
“Right. Well, smarten up, and take as much load off your parents as you can until I get there. I’ll be bringing Doctor Marinovich with me, if he is available. Meanwhile, take a look at the roster and try to get other waitresses in to take over your mum’s shifts. Linton and Rose need time alone together—you got that?”
Natural colour returned to Carl’s face. His back was to the diners, but he was preparing to turn to face them dry-eyed. “I think I can handle things, Uncle. Thanks for the talk.” He hung up the phone.
Helen took Carl’s hand. “What if it isn’t him, or what if he’s mad like the papers are saying?”
“She needs our love—Uncle Trevor said we have to trust her,” Carl said. “But, he’s going to try to bring the doctor just in case—so he isn’t trusting her, is he?”
Helen bit her lip and shook her head. “And I don’t think you trust Daddy with Mummy.”
28
At first, Rose felt awkward telling Doctor Travis that she considered herself Linton’s wife when she’d never officially been that. She didn’t feel comfortable saying this out loud so she whispered it to him. The doctor encouraged Rose to talk and drew out of her how she and Linton had spent more years apart than they’d known each other. She explained that she was now a stranger to Linton as he didn’t know her at all.
“That hurts.”
He touched her hand. “I’ll write the prescription for the medication. The police had to leave on another call and will be back later. Now go down that corridor and tell the cook that Doctor Travis said to give you two rounds of sandwiches and coffee.”
“Thank you.”
“Take your lunch out in the garden,” Doctor Travis pointed to the front door. “There is a nice picnic area there.”
“Thank you so much.”
“If you need a counsellor—”
“No, thank you. We just need time.” Rose hurried away to organise a picnic lunch.
Linton was standing in the doorway when Doctor Travis looked up. Their eyes connected, Linton’s confused and questioning.
“Do you know who that lady is?”
Linton moved his head in a slow circle, neither a yes nor a no.
“I’ve spoken to her,” Doctor Travis said. “She seems to be a very nice lady, and she cares about you. She will be back shortly with a lunch to eat in the gardens. After lunch, you could take her hand and ask her to walk and talk with you.”
Linton studied the doctor’s face carefully.
“Do you think you can do that?”
“Walk? Talk? Yes, of course.”
“Can you spend time getting to know a woman who is interested in being your friend—or is she connected to what you are afraid to remember in your past?”
“I’m not afraid of her.” Linton took the prescription from the doctor’s hands. “She was never the problem.”
“If you are becoming aware of what the problem is, talk to her about it or come back and make an appointment to see me. I’ve made an appointment for you to see a specialist gerontologist. While they specialise in aged care, this man is the local expert on brain disorders. Mrs Fife is getting lunch for the two of you. She is—”
Linton jolted. “Her name is Fife?”
“Yes, Fife. You both have the same last name.”
“Rose Fife?” Linton’s hand trembled as he put this information together with the conversations he’d watched in the waiting room.
“Yes, Rose Fife is her name. Don’t stress yourself. Today she is just a lovely lady you are about to have a picnic with.” Doctor Travis held out an envelope. “This specialist, Mr Kaye, is knowledgeable about brain trauma, and he will be able to help you. Now enjoy your lunch.”
Rose returned smiling, with bagged lunches and coffee. Linton accepted the referral letter, took one of the brown paper bags and takeaway coffee cups from Rose. He nodded goodbye to Doctor Travis and followed Rose out to a shady green lawn.
“Tell me more about what happened to you after the truck accident?” Rose asked.
“The compensation package they offered me was excellent, but I had to sign a clause not to talk about it or to reveal how much the payment was for.”
“Oh, I want to hear about you,” Rose said. “I’m glad they looked after you.” She walked to a seat and sat, opening her lunch bag. “Please tell me about you.”
Linton joined her. “I got that education I figured that I’d never had an opportunity to gain when young.” He took a bite from the sandwich and chewed.
Rose waited.
Linton swallowed, aware she was expecting more from him. “I had several years of limited mobility. I was fortunate that I was still in my twenties. I swear, I fought like a Trojan to reclaim full mobility.”
“So physically you are fine?”
Her questions didn’t make him uncomfortable. “I used study to pass the time. It distracted me from the pain, too.”
They ate, talking about the birds and flower beds and exchanged shy smiles. Then they spoke a little about themselves and places they had visited and loved.
“I watched you talking to Doctor Travis,” Linton said. “What you said—it makes sense to me now.”
Rose’s eyes widened. “I spoke softly. I didn’t want others to hear.”
“Ah!” Linton smiled. “I can lip-read.”
“Now you tell me.” Rose blushed and smiled. She touched her cheeks. “What are you doing to me? I’ve not been embarrassed since I was a teenager.”
“Don’t be embarrassed with me.” Linton grasped her free hand. “I’m the one who should be embarrassed. There I was recovering after my truck blew up and grateful that I had no dependents. I wasn’t really thinking about anyone but myself.”
Ducks walked across the lawn and formed a half circle, working on Rose with demanding quacks. Rose threw the last of her sandwich to them.
Linton took her lunch bag, screwing it up and dropping it and his bag in a nearby bin before returning to take both of her hands in his. “No secrets. It’s been agony for me not understanding. I need to know what we were to each other.”
The couple forgot time and talked until late afternoon. Doctor Travis and Officers Langley and Davis periodically peeked out of a window to observe them, like eager matchmakers, during breaks in their work.
Linton slid his arm around Rose’s waist again and drew her closer. “Some of what you are telling me jells with the things I knew about myself,” he said. “I felt the connection to you. But, I had no idea we’d lived as husband and wife and had children. Perhaps we were better apart. I’d have caused you too much grief witnessing my burns recovery.”
“Better apart?” Rose shook her head.
“It would have been an effort for you to visit me in hospital with a baby and toddler,” Linton said.
“You, like everyone else, underestimated my capabilities.” Rose pressed away from Linton and he released his grip on her waist. “I was a basket case when you disappeared. I was still basically a child then.”
Linton raised an enquiring brow. “You were in your mid-twenties.”
“And immature.” Rose grimaced. “I’d been somebody’s daughter and then somebody’s business partner or wife. I’d never been me. I’m different now. I’ve had a taste of making my own decisions, and I like it. Don’t expect me to be as I was.”
“That’s going to be easy because I don’t remember you, other than just this intense attraction I get when I see your photo, and now you.” Linton’s arm slipped around Rose’s waist. “Is this all right to do?”
Rose blushed. “Yes. But don’t presume too much. A lot has changed.”
Her apprehensions subsided while they walked around hospital gardens together. It felt good to have this older version of the younger man she’d loved as a companion. It was a bit like meeting Linton’s older brother, with a different face and voice, and enjoying having him beside her.
“I had to start right back at the beginning, recovering from burns, and then I took physiotherapy sessions, along with severe stroke and accident victims, and learned to walk. Then I had a fitness coach and worked on building up my strength.”
“You look a lot stronger than you were in your twenties.” Rose’s eyes wandered over Linton’s muscular arms, then turned her face away to hide reddening cheeks.
This mature Linton asked her lots of questions about the young Linton she’d loved. He listened quietly. Once they acknowledged who they were and what they had been to each other, Rose learned more from Linton of what he could and could not recall. They sat together on a bench and cried, at first alone and then in each other’s arms.
“After I finished rehab, I enrolled in a business management course. I thought that would be a start for a desk job, the only job the rehab people thought I’d be fit for.”
“I can’t imagine you being happy in a desk job.”
“At the start it was great. I set up a small trucking company. I had no problem remembering things about trucks; it just came back to me when I needed the information.”
“But not the things you needed to know about your family?”
“I’m talking about remembering how to change a tyre, wash out a tray, tie a rope. Sometimes I needed a prompt, and I’d ask or watch what another trucker did to learn how. I didn’t have knowledge about the trips I’d done or the people I’d met. It wasn’t as if I selectively forgot about you and our children.” He squeezed her waist gently. “I’m sorry.”
Rose nodded. “Do you—do you have a family?” She didn’t dare look at his face. Her lips quivered ever so slightly.
Linton nodded. “I thought of the truckers I employ as my family.”
