Return to Stringybark Creek

by Karly Lane

  ‘Hey, mate. I take it Josh has called?’

  ‘It’s bullshit. He’s spinnin’ shit. What have you heard?’

  He heard Griff’s long sigh and felt his gut clench. ‘Same thing you heard. I wish it was Josh being a dickhead, but not this time. Mum’s just left to take over some food and help out.’

  Ollie couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be true. Why would Luke kill himself? Sure, he’d been having some hard times lately, but to kill himself? How the hell was that even an option? ‘Are you sure he … it wasn’t some kind of accident?’

  ‘Apparently it’s pretty clear-cut. They found him out in the shed. Gun still by his side.’

  This was so messed up.

  ‘We’re meeting down at the pub in a few hours. I’ll see you down there. You want me to come and pick you up?’

  ‘No … I’ll … nah, it’s right.’ He couldn’t even think straight. Luke shot himself? He disconnected the call and put his phone down slowly, still in shock. It couldn’t be right. He finished the run and pulled up. He sat for a while in the silence, his thoughts racing. When he eventually dragged himself down from the harvester, he felt as if the ground was shifting beneath him.

  Ollie walked inside the house and saw his mother standing by the kitchen sink, staring out through the window. When the screen door shut, she gave a small start, quickly wiping her eyes before turning around to face him. He caught the devastation on her face and felt his throat tighten automatically in response.

  ‘Have you heard?’ Her voice cracked slightly, and Ollie managed a brief nod.

  ‘Poor Alice,’ she whispered and tears began to fall once more. ‘To lose her son like that.’

  He crossed the kitchen and took his mum in his arms, feeling her shoulders shake. It took all his strength not to let his own tears fall. He couldn’t. He was still holding out some kind of desperate hope that someone, somewhere, had got the story all wrong.

  His mother pulled away from him slightly, dabbing at her eyes, ‘Are you okay, darling?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said, swallowing hard. ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘You aren’t,’ she told him bluntly. ‘He was your friend. But it’s come as a shock—to everyone. Go sit down, I was just making tea.’

  ‘I’m right, thanks. I was just coming back to get the ute. I’m heading into town with a few of the boys.’

  Sue nodded quickly, giving a small sniff. ‘That’s probably a good idea. It’s been a big shock.’

  ‘I’m heading over to the Pattersons’ a little later,’ she said, sniffling once more at the thought of seeing her friend who’d just lost her son.

  Ollie couldn’t stand here any longer, he needed to get outside before he lost it. How could this happen?

  Hadley heard the phone ring in the house and smiled as her mother answered with that familiar warm greeting she used with everyone from family to the petrol station attendant. It was good to be home.

  She stared at the screen of her computer and frowned again. She’d been sitting out on the verandah working her way through her email inbox, trying to sort through all the media requests for interviews to find her genuine work-related messages. Unfortunately, this damn divorce—not yet officially public—was probably one of the worst kept secrets in the business, at least where the media was concerned anyway. Thankfully it hadn’t spilled out into mainstream Australia just yet, but it was only a matter of time. Journalists would keep digging until they uncovered the whole story and when they did … She looked up quickly at the sound of her mother’s sharp intake of breath, followed by a mournful exclamation.

  Hadley shut her computer lid and hurried to the kitchen door to find her mother leaning against the counter, her eyes shut and one hand over her mouth as she listened to whoever was on the other end of the phone. ‘I can’t believe it,’ Lavinia was saying sadly. ‘Yes, all right, thanks. Yes. Absolutely. Bye for now.’

  ‘Mum?’ Hadley said as her mother replaced the phone slowly. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Oh, Hadley, it’s just terrible,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘It’s young Luke Patterson. He’s passed away.’

  ‘Passed away,’ Hadley echoed with a frown. ‘Was he sick?’

  ‘No,’ Lavinia said slowly. ‘It was suicide,’ she said in a voice that shook. ‘I can’t believe it.’

  Hadley held her mother’s shocked gaze and felt a similar denial swirl through her. Suicide? Why? When? She’d gone to school with Luke. She’d had a crush on him back in primary school. They’d even joked about it last Christmas when she’d seen him in the pub after carols by candlelight. How could he be dead?

  ‘I have to get over to see Alice,’ Lavinia said, wiping her eyes and instantly switching to crisis mode. ‘Darling, can you go downstairs to the big freezer and grab out a shepherd’s pie, please. I need to make some calls before I go.’

  Hadley went out the back door and headed down the wide stairs that led to the rooms under the house. She loved her old home. The large verandahs that surrounded the top of the house made an enormous spacious area beneath. Half of it had been converted into rooms that were self-contained with a kitchen and bathroom and three guestrooms, while the other half stored two massive freezers where the meat they grew on the property was stored in bulk, along with the many meals her mother always had on hand for emergencies—like today.

  Comfort food. In times of crisis, there was always food on hand—bushfires, floods and death. Hadley had often wondered why food was the first thing everyone brought around when there was a death in the community but, after Mitch had left, she’d realised she’d gone days without eating a proper meal—her desire to cook was non-existent while she mourned the end of her marriage. If she had had a family, children to care for, the last thing she would have felt like doing was cooking dinner, so it made sense. All these years she hadn’t understood. Now she did.

  She opened the freezer lid and perused the contents, locating a stack of neatly labelled foil trays wrapped in plastic. Lasagne, curry chicken, savoury mince, shepherd’s pie. She pulled out the tray and shut the lid, heading back upstairs. Poor Luke. She felt sad. How could a guy with so much of his life still left to live decide that killing himself was the answer to whatever problem he had? What kind of problem could be so bad that a person thought that was the only alternative? Didn’t he have anyone to talk it over with? Instantly she dismissed the question. He had plenty of mates. Ollie and Griff were two of his closest. She knew her brother would have dropped everything to lend a hand had Luke asked. Ollie too. Ollie. Instantly she reached for her phone in her back pocket of her jeans. He’d be devastated. She scrolled through her phone and located Ollie’s number, pressing call, but it rang out.

  She rang Griff, knowing that by now her brother would have probably already heard the news. News travelled faster than broadband out here. Always had.

  The pub was already packed. People sat in groups, tables dragged together and chairs stacked around the outside. Everyone gathered in times of need. It was outback grief counselling at its finest. The beer flowed, and echoes of stunned disbelief quickly turned to speculation. Why had he done it? How could he do it? Why hadn’t he said something if things were so bad? The questions kept being asked despite the fact they’d been asked, and not answered, over and over.

  Ollie sat quietly. He didn’t have anything useful to contribute—he had no answers either, just questions and guilt. He should have checked up on Luke sooner. He’d been meaning to ever since pool the other night. He hadn’t. He’d got busy with harvest and kept forgetting to do it. If he’d made time, maybe he could have talked Luke out of it. Had he missed the signs that night? He knew Luke had been miserable, but it was understandable—the guy’d broken up with his girlfriend, that was enough to depress anyone, but should he have seen that it was more than that? Luke had also been out of work … again, understandable that Luke had been down … but that down? He should have followed up on that work offer. He’d been meaning to. If he’d found work for him, wo
uld that have changed Luke’s mind? Ollie felt sick. He’d promised the guy he’d find him some work and hadn’t done anything about it. If only he had…

  ‘Dawson,’ Aidan called, breaking into his troubled thoughts.

  Ollie glanced up.

  ‘You want a beer?’ Aidan repeated.

  ‘Nah, thanks,’ he added. ‘I’ve gotta get going.’ He stood up and pushed his chair under the table.

  ‘Hey,’ Griff said, standing up as well, ‘you right?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Ollie said quickly. ‘I just have to get home and … I’ll catch up later.’ He knew Griff wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t have the mindset to talk about anything right now.

  He started to pull his door open, pausing when he heard his name being called.

  Hadley came to a stop in front of him, her gaze searching his gently. ‘You doing okay?’

  He opened his mouth to answer but, to his horror, nothing came out. Part of him hoped it was his imagination—that it was just a delayed reaction between his mouth and his brain, but when her eyes welled up and her face softened he knew it wasn’t his imagination.

  ‘Give me your keys,’ she said, taking them from his numb hands before he could protest. ‘Come on.’ She led him around to the passenger side and opened the door. He didn’t protest, he really couldn’t be bothered. He heard her get in and shut the door, the engine start, and felt the ute move, but he didn’t know where they were headed.

  When the car pulled to a stop, Ollie sat up straighter. He wanted to ask why they were here, but he didn’t want to break the silence in the cabin. It was nice. After the noise of the pub and the stuff going on inside his head, he craved peace and quiet.

  Hadley wound down her window and the gentle hum of insects provided a soothing background. Warm air carried the scent of the bush and filled him with calm.

  ‘This was a good idea,’ he said after a while.

  ‘It’s been a long time since I’ve been up here,’ Hadley said without turning to look in his direction. ‘We used to come here a lot.’

  ‘Yeah,’ he agreed. Many a night they’d use this place to drink and get away from the town’s prying eyes. That was when they’d all been younger. Hadley, Griff, Olivia and him. There’d been others who’d come too, and sometimes impromptu parties would happen, other times—his favourite times—it was just the four of them, lying under the stars and talking about their futures. He rolled his head sideways so he could see her. ‘You got everything you wanted back then,’ he said quietly.

  He saw her sad smile and felt a matching sadness inside him unfurl. All he’d ever wanted was … he shut down that train of thought. There was no point going there.

  ‘Why do I feel like that old saying “Be careful what you wish for” is particularly ironic right now?’

  ‘You haven’t had a bad run,’ he said lightly.

  ‘No,’ she agreed with a sigh. ‘No, I haven’t. I was just feeling sorry for myself. I’ve been doing that a lot lately. Too much actually. It’s time to stop.’

  ‘In all fairness, you’ve earned the right to wallow a little.’

  ‘It’s so not me, though,’ she admitted. ‘I hate being miserable.’

  ‘Me too,’ he said, tipping his head back and staring at the view before them.

  ‘Why do you think he did it?’ she asked a little while later, voicing the thoughts that were swirling about in his own head. She’d always had a habit of doing that—thinking what he was thinking … it was weird.

  ‘Who knows? I can’t work it out. He’d broken up with his girlfriend and lost his job, but who hasn’t been through that before? Doesn’t seem drastic enough to warrant … that.’

  ‘No, it doesn’t,’ she agreed. ‘But depression and mental illness are things no one really talks about, so how can we hope to understand them when they’re kept quiet? I mean, look at what happened last year with Linc? He was the toughest guy I knew—the things he’d been through … seen … done …’ She let her voice trail off for a moment before continuing. ‘And he completely lost it. I mean, I guess it’s not the same thing—he didn’t get to the point where he’d decided to kill himself, but he hid what was going on from everyone. When I think back, it scares me how well he’d managed to function before it all came to a head.’

  It had been scary. Ollie had been there to witness Hadley’s older brother succumb to his demons after her wedding and beat Griff into unconsciousness. No one had seen it coming, or at least he hadn’t. ‘I should have seen it,’ he said, his thoughts returning to Luke.

  ‘How?’ she protested gently.

  ‘I knew he wasn’t his usual self.’

  ‘Like you said, he’d just broken up with his girlfriend … of course he wouldn’t be his usual self. That shouldn’t have been an automatic reason to suspect he’d do something like this.’

  Ollie shook his head slowly. ‘I told him I’d give him a few days’ work and put the word out about more, but I didn’t get around to calling him. I said I would, but I didn’t.’

  He looked down at Hadley’s hand as she put it on his arm and gave it a small squeeze. ‘Ollie, this didn’t happen because you didn’t call him.’

  ‘How do you know?’ he asked, searching her concerned gaze. ‘What if I’d made that call and got him some work? Maybe he’d see there was some kind of bright horizon … or, I don’t know, maybe he’d have been too busy working to think about killin’ himself,’ he said, hearing his voice catch slightly. He pushed open the door and climbed out of the ute, walking around to the front of the vehicle to rest on the bonnet. The view spread out before him, but he saw none of it. The sting in his eyes began to blur out everything as guilt and remorse washed over him.

  ‘Ollie, you tried to help him out, but this was not on you. He could have just as easily called you to follow it up. This was his decision.’

  ‘Decision? Who makes the decision to shoot themself? It doesn’t even make sense,’ he said, beyond caring that he could feel wetness on his cheeks.

  ‘It doesn’t,’ he heard her say softly before she stepped in front of him and wrapped her arms around him tightly.

  He wanted to fight against the tears that came, but the moment he felt her arms around him, the last of his strength faded away. His arms went around Hadley, and her solid warmth against his chest grounded him as pain washed through him. It hurt so bad. He couldn’t bear to think how alone his mate must have been as he sat out in that cold, dark shed, contemplating what he was about to do.

  He’d failed him. The thought echoed emptily. Why hadn’t he called? Why hadn’t he reached out? He could have talked him down. Instead Luke had decided there was no other way out.

  He wasn’t sure how long they stood there for, but he suddenly became aware that Hadley was still holding him tightly and he felt ashamed. He eased her back from him so he could straighten against the bonnet of the ute.

  He scrubbed his hands across his face and took a deep breath. He couldn’t risk a glance at Hadley. He couldn’t bear to see her reaction. The woman had been to war zones all around the world and reported on more natural disasters and human suffering than he could imagine. She must think he was pathetic.

  ‘I should get back,’ he said more gruffly than he’d intended.

  ‘There’s no hurry. No one’s getting anything done today.’

  ‘Yeah, well, harvest doesn’t stop. I want to get it finished.’

  ‘You’re allowed to grieve, Ollie. It’s normal. Hey,’ she said, coming over to stand in front of him once more and forcing him to look at her, ‘it’s okay.’

  ‘Nothing about this is okay,’ he told her hollowly.

  ‘No. It’s not,’ she said softly, putting a hand to his jawline. His eyes fluttered shut as he breathed in the scent of her and allowed her nearness to soothe the raw, open grief. Maybe he was being a selfish bastard, but he wished that he could forget about everything else going on at the moment and stand here, alone, with Hadley forever.

  Six


  Hadley could hear Ollie’s heart under her ear, beating strong and steady, and she squeezed her eyes shut tight. Luke’s death had shaken her more than she cared to admit. Maybe it was because he represented part of her childhood—her carefree teenage years. When she thought about Luke, she saw his big cheeky smile and heard his slow, larrikin drawl that had entertained everyone over the years. It seemed impossible that he was gone.

  She’d witnessed death and destruction more times than she could count, and while she wasn’t immune to it, she’d had to find a way to compartmentalise her emotions so she could do her job. This was different. Try as she might, there was no way she could compartmentalise Luke.

  She knew Ollie would feel particularly strongly as they’d been such close mates. She’d taken one look at him leaving the pub and known he needed someone. Griff had Liv to comfort him, but Ollie, as far as she knew, had no one to give him a shoulder to cry on. Not that men around here would be caught dead admitting that’s what they needed, and Ollie, left to his own devices, would have been the same. But after her brother’s breakdown last year, she’d vowed never again to let someone suffer in silence if she could help it.

  If only Luke had had someone there to do that for him. Would it have made a difference? She wasn’t so sure. The culture out here was to always be strong. Men were supposed to be dependable. Tough. They got stuff done. If things were getting you down, you didn’t sit around discussing it, you got back to work and ignored it.

  Her heart ached for Ollie. Strong dependable Ollie. He had such a kind heart and she hated seeing him take the burden of guilt over Luke’s suicide. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t his fault. And yet now, in the aftermath, not just Luke but everyone was left with the sickening feeling that they should have done something, said something … anything, to give Luke a reason not to go ahead and do what he did.

  She breathed in the clean smell of his shirt beneath her cheek and felt his hands tighten around her a little. In his arms she felt safe and sheltered. Since her marriage had fallen apart she’d felt alone and defenceless, but right now she felt protected.