‘I thought that too when I started. I thought that no one would be interested in me or my books but I guess I was wrong.’
‘No, I get that your readers would like it.’
‘Well, some of them anyway. My sister encouraged me to do it after I had the accident. She was worried that I was withdrawing from everything and everyone. She thought it would be a way for me to reconnect with the world but still keep a degree of distance.’
‘Was she right?’
‘Yeah, I guess she was.’
‘What happened?’ Bec said before she raised her hands in front of her. ‘No, no, you don’t have to tell me. I shouldn’t have asked.’
‘It’s okay. I had a car accident. The person who was driving didn’t make it.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘So am I. Anyway, my leg was pretty badly injured and it took a long time and a hell of a lot of physio to get me where I am today. My sister, Jules, was worried that I had become a hermit in my own home. I guess I was trapped there with guilt – you know, that the accident might not have happened if I had been driving, or maybe it was just guilt because I survived. I wasn’t living and I didn’t care – I was just existing. I was lost, I know that now.’
‘You were trapped?’
‘Well, that’s what it felt like. The days blended together and I couldn’t get out, at least that’s how it seemed. The whole dismal situation wasn’t of my making but that didn’t matter – and I guess I allowed the accident, the injury and the guilt to overwhelm me. I suppose Jules saw that and tried to push me forward, or in any direction really, just so I started moving again.’
‘And the vlogging helped.’
‘Not at first; I thought it was stupid. I did it only because Jules begged me. But the longer I did it, the more I realised that I actually enjoyed it. So, I’ll keep doing it until everyone gets sick to death of me.’
‘Sounds like a plan. So can I see one?’
‘Why not?’ He winced as he stood up from the couch.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean for you to get up.’
‘It’s alright – come on, my office is through here.’
Matt led Bec through the kitchen to his office and mucked about with the computer for a few seconds until his vlog channel was up.
‘There you go – I made this one a couple of weeks ago.’
Bec stood close to him and leaned in towards the monitor. It was wrong, but Matt was incredibly aware of her. They weren’t touching but he could feel the heat of her body. He had no business thinking about what it would be like to touch her – no business at all. He stepped away.
The vlog was about his latest book and the scene that had caused him so much grief. It was a pivotal scene between his protagonist, Alistair Tremayne, and the heroine, Tansy McCallister. No matter how many times he rewrote the damn thing it was never quite right. So for the vlog he had recounted his many attempts, which began seriously and ended up degenerating into the ridiculous. He had hoped when he had recorded it that it was amusing, and he felt a sense of relief when Bec laughed a couple of times. It was an odd feeling standing next to someone while they watched his channel. Matt felt exposed and that hadn’t happened before.
‘So that’s it,’ he said as he turned it off.
‘I liked it,’ Bec said with a smile. ‘So did you ever get that scene written?’
Matt shook his head. ‘Nah, I’m afraid it’s still a work in progress. I joked about for the vlog but I swear it’s so bloody hard. I think I’ve rewritten it about twenty times. The rest of the book is beginning to fall into place but this one scene, it’s killing me.’
‘Do you have to put it in?’
‘Yeah, it’s pivotal – I just can’t get it right.’
‘I’m sure you will,’ Bec said, and she reached over and touched his hand.
He closed his hand over hers, and in that instant he felt he was at the edge of a precipice. Her hand was warm and her palm both calloused and soft at the same time. She squeezed his hand. And as a jolt of something other than electricity buzzed through him, he really wished she hadn’t.
Chapter 8
Matt was lost – but not in a bad way. He’d spent the last hour driving along the narrow dirt tracks that veered off into the bush around Moonlight Plateau. He had thought he was getting the hang of the general area around White Gum Creek, but today proved him wrong.
Earlier that morning, his leg had been playing up, and as he’d sat at his kitchen table he figured he could do one of two things – either take a handful of painkillers and slump down in front of the TV, or go for a drive and try to forget about the pain. He chose the latter, admittedly with a couple of paracetamols washed down with a cup of tea. He wasn’t going to let his leg get the better of him again. Besides, maybe the fresh air would do him good.
Anyway, that had been the plan when he climbed into his car after lunch and headed off in no particular direction. He’d remembered to grab a bottle of water and his camera – with any luck he’d manage to get some good footage for his next vlog.
He drove out of town past the goat farm and towards Moonlight Plateau. Matt had been out this way a couple of times but only as far as Freddy’s farm for poker night. The plateau jutted out of the bush and ran for about a kilometre, and from what Matt could see it was flat on top and acted as a natural boundary for Freddy’s place. Across to the right a large hill was nestled among the eucalypts. It was thickly covered with trees, which made it look dark, and though Matt couldn’t have said why, he thought it had a dismal sort of feeling about it. According to Davey, it was called Winter’s Hill on account of a story that a century or so ago, some guy called Winter had had his farm there. Matt shook his head and smiled – maybe his imagination was just getting the better of him.
Matt followed a small track which veered off from Freddy’s place and headed along the base line of the plateau. Maybe he’d find the road that led to the top. He imagined that the views would be pretty amazing and maybe something he could use for his vlog.
The road to the summit was signposted, and within ten minutes, Matt was parking in a cleared area. As he got out of the car a cramp caught hold of his leg, and the pain that seemed to shoot out from his knee was strong enough to take his breath away for a second. He leant against the car, his hand clutching his knee, closed his eyes and willed it to pass. Matt doubted that his ‘willing’ had much to do with it but slowly the pain eased and after a minute or two he straightened up and blew out a breath.
He reached into the car and picked up his camera and then, leaning heavily on his walking stick, he began to walk towards the edge of the plateau. The plateau was flat and covered with grass and sprinkled with weeds. It was colder up here, with no shelter from any trees. The wind whipped against Matt as he walked towards the perimeter, and with it came a fine mist of rain – barely there but unmistakeable.
He’d been right, the views up here were worth the time and effort. The overcast sky appeared never-ending as it stretched from far beyond Winter’s Hill to the horizon. Matt turned the camera on and aimed it at himself.
‘Hi everyone. So today I thought I’d give you a glimpse of some of the local area. I’m standing on top of Moonlight Plateau, and the view is pretty phenomenal.’ Matt panned the camera away to take in the countryside before turning it back to himself.
‘See, I told you it was amazing. I’m not so sure if it’s this place or the fact we’ve got a damp sort of day but it feels isolated up here. I swear I haven’t seen another living soul since I drove out this way.’ He gave his viewers a smile before pointing the camera towards the hill. ‘That’s Winter’s Hill, named after a guy who was called – you guessed it, Winter. When I was driving up I thought the whole hill was just covered in bush, but from here I can see that part of it is cleared. I guess someone, maybe old man Winter, must have had a farm up there at some point. Anyway, the wind seems to be getting colder – so I’m getting off this damn rock and back to the car. Catch you at the nex
t place of interest,’ Matt said before he clicked the camera off.
He stared back towards the hill. Maybe he could find a track to take him up there, so he could check it out. Matt walked back to the car and drove back down to the old signpost at the bottom of the plateau. He was sure that he’d passed another dirt road that looked as if it headed towards the hill. Unfortunately it seemed he’d been wrong. The road looped its way through the dense bushland but he never seemed to get any closer to the hill. Several skinny tracks forked off the dirt road, and as he passed one Matt noticed that it appeared to be running uphill. Without any hesitation he turned the car around, although he was glad that there wasn’t anybody else about as it took him more than a three-point turn to manoeuvre his car on the narrow road.
The new track snaked through the trees and at times doubled back on itself. Even though he drove for what seemed like ages, he was still no closer to the crest of the hill.
He was about to turn back and try another path when the track turned sharply to the left. The gums thinned and before him was a brown paddock with a handful of sheep staring back at him.
Matt slowed the car but kept going. The track was climbing and he figured that this time it might eventually take him to the top.
A few minutes later Matt finally made it to the top of the hill. He pulled the car off to one side of the track and got out. As he walked past an old twisted woodbine and began trudging up the last few metres to the summit, he expected that the view would be almost as breathtaking as that from the plateau. What he didn’t expect to see was a house nestled in a copse of trees. For a second he wondered if he should get the hell out of there, as he was obviously trespassing. He frowned and wondered how he could have missed that this was a private road. Matt was about to head back to the car when he noticed that there was something wrong about the house; it was off somehow, although at first Matt couldn’t put his finger on it.
Against his better judgement he walked forward to investigate. The house had an unkempt feel to it but it wasn’t until he walked past the half-dozen forgotten rosebushes that he realised what was wrong. Half the roof was missing, and as he neared he saw that the majority of windows were paneless.
He peered in and saw that nature had begun to reclaim the building. Weeds and straggly bits of grass were making a valiant attempt to cover part of what Matt thought would have been the lounge room. A large stone fireplace stood on one side of the room, but it was easy to see that the house wasn’t anywhere near finished. It was as if the builders had walked off mid-job and never came back. Some of the interior walls were covered in plasterboard, while others were still bare stud.
Matt stepped away from the window and took a good look at the exterior. The house was made of a combination of wood and stone. It had a tall pitched roof and by the looks of it, an attic. There was a rustic charm about it; it could almost have been a house from a fairy tale. The craftsmanship was evident in the work that had been done, and Matt had to wonder why anyone would walk away from a house like this.
Matt turned his camera on and began filming. He’d add dialogue later; for now he just wanted to capture the feel of the derelict building. He documented the different aspects of the house and paused on a large web that some industrious spider had woven from one corner of one of the empty windows to another. He zoomed in and caught the fine misty rain droplets which bejewelled the web.
Around the back was a pile of wooden planks, half-covered by a tarp which had been shredded by the elements and now offered little protection. As he slowly walked back towards the front of the house a speck of red caught his eye. Lying discarded on its side was a small plastic watering can at the base of one of the rosebushes. It was a testament to the fact that someone had loved this place once, but not anymore. Matt imagined that whatever dreams had been woven here had been shattered.
He turned the camera around.
‘Hey everyone. Well, as you can see, our adventure continues. I’m now standing at the top of Winter’s Hill and you won’t believe what I’ve found. Okay, that’s not fair – you won’t have a clue.’ Matt moved the camera again and pointed it at the house. ‘See, I’ve found a deserted house and, as crazy as this sounds – it kind of makes me feel sad. I don’t know what future the owners were building, but it’s pretty certain that it didn’t work out. It’s just as isolated up here as it was on top of the plateau. Maybe I’m letting my writer’s imagination get the better of me but I have to admit I’m a little creeped out.’
Matt tried to keep the camera as steady as possible as made his way over towards the front door. The whole task was made more difficult by the uneven ground and his damn walking stick. He just hoped that he hadn’t given half his audience motion sickness.
‘I don’t know how long it’s been deserted but I reckon it must be years if you go by the state of the place. I’m not sure where or how but I think I could use this for some inspiration in my next book. Hey, let me know in the comments what you think. I guess as there’s no one home we could have a peek through the windows. So if we just go this way you’ll be able to see—’
‘What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?’
Matt jerked around and saw a tall man with dark hair striding towards him. The man’s mouth was set in a grim line and instinctively Matt knew this wasn’t going to end well.
‘Hi, I’m new to the area and was sight-seeing.’
‘Sight-seeing? Are you serious?’ The word seemed to infuriate the man, and the grim line turned into a snarl. ‘You’re trespassing – so get in your car and get the hell off my land.’
Matt held up a hand as if to create a barrier between him and the angry man. ‘Okay, like I said, I’m sorry. I’m going, alright?’ For a second Matt thought that would be the end of it, but as he glanced at the guy’s face he realised that he was staring at the camera.
‘What were you filming?’
‘The house. As I said, I just came across it. I was drawn to it; there’s something about it that’s fascinating. Perhaps it was the promise of a future that didn’t happen mixed up with sadness – all I know is that I found it hard to walk away. I really didn’t mean to piss you off.’
There was a bleakness in the man’s eyes as he looked back at Matt.
‘Well, you got that right,’ he said bitterly. ‘That was my future and now there’s nothing.’
‘I’m sorry – for what it’s worth, I know how that feels.’
The scowl returned to the man’s face. ‘How could you – you don’t know anything about me. I lost my wife and my unborn child. Don’t you dare stand there and tell me you know what it’s like.’
Matt stuffed the camera into his pocket and then, still leaning heavily on his walking stick, stepped closer to the stranger.
‘You’re right, I don’t know you. I don’t know what pain you’ve gone through or what it’s like to lose a child. But I can tell you that I once lost my future too. I haven’t forgotten about it and in some ways I’m still dealing with that loss – maybe I always will. I was in a car accident which took away my fiancée and left me with this,’ Matt said as he gestured down to his leg. ‘I cut myself off from everyone who cared about me and relived the accident over and over again, tormenting myself with the question what if? Would the accident have happened if I’d been driving? Why didn’t we stay home that day? Why did I agree to look at wedding venues up the mountain? What if it hadn’t been raining? The list goes on and on until it screws with your mind and sends you crazy.’
The man looked at Matt for a long time in silence, but the anger seemed to have drained out of him. ‘I’m sorry about your accident but you should go – no one ever comes up here,’ he said finally.
Matt saw that as the man began to withdraw back into himself his eyes looked overbright. He decided to take a risk.
‘I get it – but maybe that isn’t what you need anymore. I’m Matt, by the way – I’ve got the cottage over by Bluestone Ridge.’
The man hesitated
for a second. ‘Nicholas Langtree.’
Matt began to back away towards his car. ‘My door’s always open – if you ever need a bit of company.’
Nicholas didn’t say a word but he gave Matt a curt nod before turning around and walking back down the hill.
Matt stood by the car for a moment and watched him go. Nicholas hadn’t said anything but he hoped that maybe, just maybe, he’d take him up on the offer.
***
There’s an old saying that things always happen in threes. Bec had never believed it until this week. She’d been thinking about Matt probably more than she should have. It had been all his fault, of course; she wouldn’t have thought about him at all if it hadn’t been for how he’d opened up to her the day she had given him a lift back home. It wasn’t that she felt sorry for him but she could understand how he’d felt as if he was trapped. Not that her life was anything like his, but in some ways maybe she could recognise a kindred spirit. Everything had been okay until she had made the mistake of taking his hand. She had meant it as a gesture of compassion, a sort of non-verbal It’s all going to be okay and I understand you’ve been doing it tough. What she never expected was the frisson of excitement she’d felt when she touched his skin. It was like a zap that seemed to buzz all the way up her arm. They’d stared at each other, and it was as if they were on the edge of something. For an instant Bec had felt like she was suspended in time, not really knowing what to do but being drawn towards Matt regardless.
Bec did the only thing she could do, which was to get the hell out of there as quickly as possible. Disaster averted, she decided that there was something potentially dangerous about Matt Harvey and for her own sake she should stay away from him.
And that’s when fate stepped in – the meddling bitch.
One Monday she ran into him in the general store. It was nothing dreadful, a couple of smiles, small talk and an awkward silence. Bec managed to extract herself without too much trouble. The problem was that Matt was different from most of the men she knew. The majority of the male population of White Gum Creek, including her dad, were basically cut from the same cloth. Their lives were dictated by the seasons, the rainfall and the land itself. They had an inherent strength and a realisation of who they were and what they had to do to live off the land.
Country Roads Page 11
