by Nic Starr
Great. I probably look like shit compared to all the beautiful people wandering about. Old and tired and stressed.
Their breakfasts arrived and they got stuck in, Nate forcing himself to swallow each bite of the omelette. It was delicious, but his appetite had deserted him sometime yesterday, around the time he’d got the call from Trish to let him know Jackson had gone missing. He pushed his knife and fork together while half the meal was still on the plate, ignoring Damien’s pointed look. Instead, he finished his orange juice and used the napkin to wipe his mouth. Before long Damien was downing his own cutlery and swiping a piece of toast through the last of the egg on his plate.
Nate was itching to get going and felt bad for forcing Damien to rush through his meal. They were in one of the most popular and well-known beach suburbs in Sydney, and instead of making the most of a gorgeous sunny day with a leisurely breakfast, he was going to give the man indigestion. But before Nate could suggest they get moving, Damien pushed his chair back. Mind reader.
“C’mon, let’s get going.”
Nate scrambled to his feet and followed Damien to the front counter. “I’ll get this.” Damien had his wallet out before Nate could argue.
“Thanks.”
“My pleasure.” Damien tossed some gold coins into the tip jar and pocketed the rest of his change. “Now, which way are we headed?”
It didn’t take long to reach the backpacker hotel, but the trip was fruitless. They were able to have their questions answered, but it appeared Jackson wasn’t staying there. Or at least, if he was, he was using another name, and must have checked in when the girl at the front office wasn’t around.
Nate was downhearted as they left the building. He put on his sunglasses against the glare, glad the dark shades hid his eyes as he felt the tears prickle. A couple of furious blinks and a deep breath through his nose, and he felt a lot better. Damien shot him a concerned look, but Nate pre-empted his question. “I’m fine. It’s just disappointing. I know the chances of finding him like this are slim to nothing, but I had sort of hoped anyway.”
“There’s nothing wrong with hoping. It’s good to keep positive.” Damien offered a small smile and adjusted his cap as they stepped into the sunshine. “We’ll find him.”
They crossed the busy road, with its median strip lined with some type of palm tree reaching tall into the sky. They left behind the rows of shops and cafes to admire the view on the opposite side of the road. The beach stretched in a golden arc, yellow sand dotted with beach towels and people at regular intervals, and the blue sea stretching as far as the eye could see. Seagulls shrieked overhead, the sound competing with the dull roar of the waves crashing on the shore. There wasn’t a huge swell that day, but enough surf to encourage the riders who sat on their boards beyond the breakers. A couple of surfers, wearing only boardies and bloody good tans, ambled past with surfboards tucked under their toned arms. Very easy on the eye.
“Not a bad view, is it?” Damien asked.
“Huh?” Nate tore his gaze from the guys ahead.
Damien rolled his eyes and chuckled. “The ocean, the beach.”
“Oh, yeah. You can see why it’s so popular, especially since it’s not far from the city.”
“It’s pretty, but it’s very different from the beach back home. Home is so much quieter. Here you’ve got to fight for a bit of sand and not mind if someone is sitting right next to you.” Damien chuckled. “Although, I hear this beach has something special going for it.”
“Yeah?”
“All those hot iconic Bondi surf lifesavers.”
This time it was Nate’s turn to roll his eyes.
In unison, they headed down the steps to the footpath that followed the curve of the beach. They joined the joggers and dog walkers who were making the most of the glorious weather. They walked the length of the path towards the northern headland, scanning the crowd on both the walkway and down on the sand. It would have been pointless to even try to find anyone on the beach itself, the area being too large and too crowded.
The day warmed as they walked, and Nate rolled his shirtsleeves above his elbows, thankful he was wearing shorts. Damien was dressed similarly, but instead of a buttoned shirt, he was wearing a simple navy T-shirt with his company logo on the chest. Once again, Nate was struck by how good Damien looked. He may have hit forty, but he wore his age well and had the body of someone who obviously spent a lot of active time outdoors doing physical activity. Nate smiled as he thought how Damien could give any of the gorgeous men they’d passed a run for their money.
They turned to walk back in the direction they had come. “So, tell me about the Bait & Tackle.” Nate was keen to learn more about Damien’s recent life, what he’d been up to over the last eight or so years.
“There’s not really a lot to say. I’m sure it’s not nearly as exciting as your career as a doctor.”
Nate snorted. “A career in medicine isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Long hours, lots of stress.”
“So, not the glamorous life?”
“Not even close.” Nate chuckled. “But seriously, I’m interested to hear what made you get into the shop.”
They stopped walking and leaned on the railing, both of them looking out to sea. “Ah, so, where to start? You know I moved to Newcastle after school for uni and I hated it. Going to uni, that is, not Newcastle.” He glanced at Nate for confirmation and Nate nodded. “So I started working on the charter boats back in town.”
“I remember that. You loved it. Couldn’t stop talking about it. I was jealous of all the time you got to spend on the water, but I was also so happy you were doing something you loved.”
“Yeah, I did love it. It was the perfect job for me, and everything was fine for a number of years. But after a while there wasn’t enough work and my earnings dropped so I started working part-time at the Bait & Tackle as well. It seemed to make sense, as working in the shop fit in with the game-fishing tours. When the owner of the store got sick, I ended up managing the place, then when he finally decided to retire, the opportunity to buy the business came up. I guess it was fate because by that time it felt like it was my own place anyway, I’d spent so much time there and made my mark. I think all that happened around the time we stopped seeing each other.” Damien glanced at him sideways. “Stopped being friends.”
Nate’s heart fluttered and he swallowed heavily. He remembered that period in his life as clear as day. It could have been yesterday. The memories were so strong. “Eighteenth of January, 2006,” he whispered.
“What?”
Nate kept his eyes focused on the horizon, not game enough to meet Damien’s gaze. He didn’t want to show how much the memories pained him, what an idiot he now thought he’d been. Damien had got on with his life and Nate should have too. Strange how it wasn’t until now that he was really even aware of how much he’d been missing. “Eighteenth of January, the day after Mum and Dad’s funeral. That was the last time we saw each other properly.”
Damien took off his cap and fidgeted with it, Nate’s gaze drawn to the twisting motion. “I remember that night.” Damien’s voice faded and he stared off into the distance.
Nate cleared his throat. “So after you bought the shop?”
“Oh, things got really busy then. I had heaps of time on my hands and it was great to focus on building the business. I remodelled and expanded when I first took over, and I updated the premises again last year. But my main business isn’t the shop.”
Nate looked at him in surprise. “Really?”
“Don’t look so surprised.” Damien nudged Nate in the ribs. “When I was looking at increasing the turnover of the shop, I started researching equipment and the latest technology. Found out where to source some of the best equipment in the world and started importing it here—rods, but also depth sounders and other electronics for fish finding.”
“I had no idea.”
“Well, you wouldn’t, would you? You haven’t been here or seen me.”
Damien shrugged and his words held no heat, but Nate flinched. “No. You’re right.”
“I import a range of products. We have an office and warehouse in Newcastle, and most of the sales are done online. I employ a manager who takes care of the day-to-day operations, meaning I only have to be in Newcastle a couple of days a week at most, and I have someone running the Bait & Tackle. A few weeks a year, I head overseas to check out manufacturers and attend conferences, basically keeping on top of the industry.”
“Wow. That must keep you on your toes.”
“It does, but that’s what I enjoy about it. The challenge. But the best thing is being able to combine running the business with actually being hands-on and being able to get out onto the water myself.”
“And you don’t miss not having a partner?”
“I assume you’re not referring to a business partner?”
“No.”
“I miss having someone to share my life with. To talk about what happened in my day, to plan for the future, but I don’t miss it enough to take second-best. If things are meant to be, then they will happen. I believe you just need to open your mind and heart to opportunities. I have a successful business, I work hard, and love my family. I also have some great friends. Friends who have stuck by me through everything, all the ups and downs.”
Nate’s heart plummeted at those words. He wasn’t one of those friends. He was someone who’d turned his back on Damien, to run back to his safe life in the city. Fuck!
Damien moved away from the railing and put his cap back on his head. He pulled the brim down so Nate couldn’t see his eyes due to the shadow. “C’mon. Let’s keep moving.”
Nate slowly followed in Damien’s wake as they made their way back in the direction they’d come.
They caught a cab back to the hotel, where they spent a couple of hours making phone calls. Damien had some business to take care of that involved dealing with some e-mails and a call or two, and Nate checked in at the clinic. At least everything was going fine where that was concerned. Trish didn’t have any updates, so by later that afternoon, Nate felt in no better position than he had the previous afternoon.
“No news is good news,” Damien said.
Nate gave a half-hearted smile. He had to believe that.
Chapter SEVEN
KINGS CROSS was an area with a reputation, and this reputation was what had Nate on edge. Not for his and Damien’s safety, but because of the reminder of the dangerous situations Jackson could find himself in. Even at 9:00 p.m. there were lots of people around, the crowds spilling out of bars and clubs to mill on the footpath. Burly bouncers guarded the entrances where staircases led to upstairs strip venues. Bright lights flashed everywhere, and bursts of music competed with shouts and laughter.
A group of men, loud and obviously drunk, approached, and Nate stepped to the left to get out of their way. Regardless, one of the guys careened into him, knocking him into Damien, whose strong arms steadied him. “Arseholes,” Damien muttered under his breath, looking back over his shoulder at the careless man, who hadn’t even slowed his stumbling pace.
“Don’t worry about it,” Nate said, sensing Damien’s tension. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. He isn’t used to areas like this.
Damien sidestepped, putting himself on Nate’s other side. It was only when another group approached, and Damien placed himself carefully, that Nate realised he’d put himself in a position to protect him, acting as a barrier between Nate and anyone who had the potential to bump into him. Nate flushed at the knowledge. Chivalry is not dead.
They walked another block or two, before coming to a restaurant that didn’t look too busy, and soon they were sitting over cold beers and steaming pizza.
“I hate the thought of Jackson being out here. There’s way too much trouble for him to get into on the streets. What if he gets caught up in something he’s not prepared to handle?” Nate mused.
“You mean like drugs?”
“Maybe. I’ve seen so many teenagers in bad shape, D.” God, it made him feel sick just thinking about it. “Working in the hospital gives insight into things most people wouldn’t believe. Kids getting beaten up just for looking at someone the wrong way, or being sexually abused on an innocent night out, and don’t get me started on the alcohol and drugs. Jackson can’t have much money, and if he’s not in a safe place anything could happen.” Talking about it gave flashes of the horrors and pain he’d seen. Children and teenagers….
Damien’s hand on his was reassuring, grounding Nate in the present. “And it might not. There’s no point in worrying about something that may or may not happen. From what I can see, and what you’ve said, he’s a good kid. Trish has raised him right, he has strong values, and he’s sensible. Anyway, it’s better to focus on what we can do to help, rather than thinking the worst. How about sending another text, letting the kid know he’s still on your mind?”
Nate nodded and reluctantly moved his hand so he could use his phone, already missing Damien’s touch. He’d made a number of attempts to contact Jackson throughout the day and had spoken to Trish. Right now, he and Damien were just in a holding pattern, waiting for Jackson to finally reach out. He fired off another text and laid the phone on the table, hoping, probably fruitlessly, for a quick reply.
“You need to eat.” Damien placed another slice of pizza on his plate, and Nate ended up picking off a few bits of the topping and popping them in his mouth, much to Damien’s obvious frustration.
“I’m sorry. I’m just not hungry.”
Damien shook his head. “You won’t be any good to anyone if you don’t eat, especially drinking beer on an empty stomach.”
Nate picked up the pizza and took a bite, chewing on the mouthful of super supreme. He was still chewing when his phone rang, so he answered with his mouth full. “’Lo.”
“Nate, it’s me.” He perked up at Trish’s voice and swallowed the mouthful. “Listen, I finally got some information from Jackson’s friend, Dylan. When I explained how dangerous it was for Jackson to be out on the streets alone, he relented and told me some stuff.” The words rushed out in Trish’s excitement. “I can’t believe I’ve been so stupid and missed what’s been under my nose all along.” She finally paused for a breath.
Nate met Damien’s eyes across the table. “And?”
“And it turns out Jackson’s been getting bullied at school. Some of his classmates are giving him a hard time.”
“What for? Hasn’t he always been fairly popular at school?”
“Sort of. Not one of the popular kids, but not on the outer either. At least that was the case until some of his so-called friends found out he’s gay.”
“Jackson’s gay?” Nate couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice and Damien looked at him with raised brows.
“He is, at least according to Dylan. Oh, I wish he’d just told me. I’m sure we could have sorted everything out.”
“You can’t dictate how people react, Trish, and he was probably just scared. Did Dylan give you any more idea of where Jackson would be?”
She sighed. “No. Just suggested we do what you’re currently doing. Checking the backpackers’, that sort of stuff.”
“Okay. Try not to stress, sis. We’ll head to Manly tomorrow, and I’ll let you know straightaway if there’s any news.”
“Stay safe, Nate. I love you.”
“You too.”
They ended the call, and Nate turned his attention back to his beer, finishing the lager in one long swallow. Shit!
“So, Jackson’s gay, huh?”
Nate placed the empty glass on the table. “Looks that way. Bloody hell, Damien, the poor kid. He’s been picked on at school and obviously didn’t know how to deal with it.” Nate looked down at his plate. There was no way he could stomach eating another bite, no matter how much Damien might want him to, so he shoved the offending meal away. “I should have pushed him. That day we went to your shop, the day when he told me about
not wanting to finish school, I could tell something was wrong. I decided to let it drop, but I should have pushed harder.”
“You weren’t to know.”
“But I should have. Even if I was so blind that I couldn’t see him struggling with his sexuality, I could see that something was upsetting him. I should have asked more questions or at least let him know I was there if he needed a listening ear.”
Damien placed a hand on Nate’s arm again. “He knew you were there, Nate. Honestly, I don’t think there was any more you could have done.”
“You know the thing that has me confused? It’s why Jackson felt he couldn’t talk to his mum, or talk to me. We’ve always been an open family, talking about everything.”
Damien’s eyebrows raised.
“What? We do talk. Trish encourages both the kids to have open discussions about lots of topics. Drinking, drug use, bullying, sex. Nothing’s off-limits.”
“Are you listening to yourself? Do you really believe what you’re saying? That’s got to be the biggest crock of shit I’ve heard in a long time.” Damien sat up straight, arms folded across his chest.
“What the fuck?”
“Do Jackson and Belinda know you’re gay?”
“No. At least I don’t think so. But what does that have to do with anything?”
“I can’t believe you’re even asking that. So much for being an open family. I mean, if you can’t even be honest with your own family about your sexuality, such an integral part of you, something that makes you you, then how can you say you have open and honest communication?”
“That’s different. I would have thought you would understand.”
“Well, I don’t, so how about you explain it to me.”
Nate sighed. “My situation is different. I made the choices I did mainly because of my career. When I was in Sydney, there was no reason to let Mum and Dad know who I was seeing. I might have eventually said something if I started seeing anyone seriously, but then they were gone and the chance to talk to them was gone too. Not that there was ever anyone to tell them about. Trish has always known, but it wasn’t something I felt was necessary to announce to the kids. And then when I knew I wanted to practice back at home—well, you know my reasons for keeping quiet there.”
