by Ella West
As the track leaves the bush by the creek it gets steeper until we are climbing along a ridge. Open country, scrubby yellow pine trees that were planted years ago but have never grown well because the soil is too poor, bracken fern and other plants I don’t know the names of. Jack halts behind me and looks back, down the mountain. I stop too. You can just make out the line of Fairdown Beach through the rain. Somewhere in the distance there will be Cape Foulwind.
‘Just don’t go off the track, will you?’ I tell him.
‘Why?’
‘There are mine shafts everywhere up here, all along the terraces. I don’t know where exactly.’
‘Mine shafts?’
‘Old ones, from the eighteen hundreds. They go straight down. Most of them have got water in the bottom of them. You don’t want to fall in. A farmer I know, Harry, he farms just over there,’ I nod down the hill to our left, ‘and he lost two of his dogs down one once. They were just running along in the fern and then they were gone. He had to go get a ladder to get them out.’
‘Were they okay?’
‘They were lucky. The shaft wasn’t that deep.’
We’re silent, looking again at what we can make out below us.
‘It’s a good walk,’ Jack says. He’s still catching his breath. ‘I haven’t had this much exercise for ages. Where does the road go?’ He points to the gravel road that is snaking past us on the north side.
‘That’s the one that started from the locked gates where we parked. It goes up to the lake and then over towards Denniston. There used to be a power station with the lake, and they’ve got it going again. The water is piped down the mountain to turbines at the bottom. That’s the access road to it all.’
‘I’m guessing it would have been faster if we walked up the road?’
‘Maybe. Not as nice though, and it’s a private road. We shouldn’t be on it.’
‘And this track? Is it private too?’
‘No, don’t think so. But hardly anyone uses it. Want to keep going? We’ll be back in the bush soon.’
‘Sounds good,’ he says, and follows me again.
We don’t speak as the scrub gets higher and we climb off the ridge line and up a valley wall. We don’t have the breath, and the rain is getting harder. We both want to get out of it, up into the trees again. Finally we’re there, on the edge of the bush, and we stop, listening to the sound of the raindrops on the leaves above us.
I lower my hood, glance over at Jack. He still seems to be okay about what we’re doing, even though he doesn’t know why we’re doing it. I’ll have to tell him soon, I suppose. That is, if I’m right. I could be totally wrong, in which case I’ve ruined a perfectly good afternoon climbing a mountain when we could have been riding the horses on the beach.
I turn back to the track and start again. There are zigzags from here right to the lip of the lake and I climb up the first one.
‘Annie, don’t move.’
Jack’s voice from behind me is suddenly mixed with panic, but I’ve already heard something in the ferns to my left, already felt it against my leg, already looked down, my eyes wide in disbelief, and seen the two black bootlaces tied together across the track. A tripwire.
‘I’m not moving,’ I say, trying to sound calm and failing badly.
Jack is pushing ferns aside on the right-hand side of the track, trying to see what the bootlaces are attached to.
‘It’s on the other side.’ I point.
He swears when he sees it.
‘It’s Powergel, isn’t it?’ I ask.
‘That’s what it says on the wrapper.’
‘Okay, there will be a detonator stuck into it and that will be wired to a battery. You’ve got to disconnect the battery, because that’s the power source.’
‘You sure? Can’t you just take the tension off, move backwards?’
‘I don’t think so. I heard something click. I think I’ve already triggered it.’
‘Okay, there’s the battery. Stay still a second more.’
My leg feels like it’s cramping up. I can’t see what he’s doing – the ferns are in the way, his body in the way.
‘Okay, I’ve done it.’
‘Show me.’
He holds up what looks to be a motorbike battery. I breathe and try to relax, try to move but nothing works. I reach down and grab the laces.
‘Whoa, are you sure?’ Jack says, seeing what I’m doing.
‘It won’t go off if there is no battery. It’s fine.’ I tug them out of the bush and then chuck them away. I collapse into the wet fern, trying to stop shaking.
‘How do you know so much about Powergel?’ he asks, tossing the battery.
‘When your neighbour blows up his house with the stuff, you ask questions. My dad told me.’
‘Because people in Westport know about this stuff.’
‘It’s just the way it is,’ I manage to get out. I’m still having trouble breathing.
‘You okay?’ Jack asks me.
‘That was kind of scary.’
‘I think that’s an understatement. That could have taken your legs off. Taken both of our legs off.’
‘Or told someone that we’re coming.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Pete has put it there.’
‘Pete? Your crazy neighbour who blew up his house?’
‘I don’t think he would have really wanted to hurt anyone, but maybe he put it there as some sort of alarm. A warning for him that someone was coming.’
‘But it would hurt someone. It could have killed someone.’
‘I don’t think Pete always thinks things through like he should.’
‘So what makes you think he’s here?’
‘I saw lights up this mountain last night.’
‘This isn’t some romantic walk in the bush in the rain, is it? This isn’t you showing me a lake and a fantastic view from a mountain?’
‘No. Is that what you thought it was?’
‘Well, I was hoping.’
‘Sorry. Are you angry?’
‘Of course I’m angry. What were you thinking?’
‘I had to do something.’
‘But I’m also relieved you decided to bring me with you.’ He’s fishing his phone out of his pocket, making a call.
I sigh, look away, try to quieten my nerves, try to breathe so my heart rate slows down at least a bit. Shit, Pete. Here I am trying to help you and you almost killed me. Booby-trap tripwires. What else is up this track?
‘No reception,’ Jack says, frustrated, putting his phone back in his pocket.
‘Were you trying to call your dad?’
‘What do you think?’
‘The cell phone tower is on top of the mountain. We’re probably too tucked under it just here.’
‘Now you tell me. So why do you believe Pete’s up here?’
‘He’s been hiding out at Harry’s farm.’
‘The Harry with the farm dogs who fell down the mine shaft?’
‘Yes. And with the police roadblocks and the rumours that they’re going to start searching houses, I think it made Pete run.’
‘And you know this how?’
‘Remember, this is Westport. And Harry and his wife came to tea last night at our place, and I kind of guessed from the way they were acting.’
‘Right, Westport again, where everyone knows everything but doesn’t tell the people they should be telling. I get it. I suppose it was part of Dad’s plan. Put the pressure on and something will happen. I don’t think he was expecting this, though.’ He stops, looks out at the rain thinking. ‘If I decide to go back down, you’re not coming with me, are you?’
‘No.’
‘And somehow I don’t think I can stop you going up?’
‘We might get phone reception higher up. And there is a lake to see.’
‘I think keeping you safe is a better reason.’ He sighs. ‘Let’s keep going if we have to do this. If you want to help him. I suppose it’s
okay to leave the Powergel there.’
‘Well, I’m not carrying it with me.’ I take his offered hand, hauling myself to my feet. I look up the zigzagging track, start off again. If it wasn’t steep before, it is now.
‘Just keep an eye out for anything,’ Jack is saying behind me, already puffing.
‘Like more booby-traps.’
‘Like anything. The things I do for you.’
‘Pete did save my life once.’
‘Really?’
‘I was five. I ran across the road after getting off the school bus and he stopped me.’
‘So we’re repaying a debt from ten years ago?’
‘Kind of. But he’s also our neighbour. He’s not a bad guy.’
‘I get it. It’s okay.’
I don’t know what to add to that, so I keep walking. Another ten minutes and we’re finally at the top, the track levelling out, and my phone is vibrating in my pocket and it’s not a text. Someone is ringing me. Sam, of all people.
‘Hi, Sam,’ I say. Jack stops, his eyes on me.
‘Annie, Jack is your friend on Facebook,’ Sam is saying in my ear. She doesn’t sound too happy.
‘Um, yes. So?’
‘He liked a picture of Blue.’
‘Did he?’
‘Annie, you know him, don’t you?’
‘No.’ I can’t believe I’m discussing this. I almost just got killed by a tripwire and Sam wants to discuss Facebook friends.
‘I know your Facebook policy – you only let people friend you who you know.’
‘Okay, I know him. We’ve ridden together on the beach a few times. That’s all.’
‘You’re his girlfriend, aren’t you? The one he was talking about at the Cape Pub. He said he went riding with her on a beach. That she was amazing on a horse. That’s you, isn’t it?’
‘I am not Jack’s girlfriend.’ Jack is still staring at me, but now he has his eyebrows raised. I’m not sure if he can hear Sam’s side of the conversation, but I’m guessing he can, she’s talking pretty loudly.
‘You are his girlfriend,’ Sam says, and I’m sure I can hear her crying. ‘You’re probably with him right now and you’re just lying to me.’
‘I’m not his girlfriend. I’ll never be his girlfriend. He’s already got one, and she is an amazing rider, so it’s not me.’
‘I don’t believe you.’ She ends the call before I get the chance to protest further.
‘So we have phone coverage now?’ Jack says slowly.
‘Seems so.’ I put my phone back in my pocket and start walking again.
‘Just wait a minute. Who was that? Was it the girl from your class who I met?’
‘Yes, it was Sam.’
‘So?’
I stop, turn around. He hasn’t moved. ‘You liked a picture of Blue on my Facebook page and she must have seen it, so now she knows about us. Happy?’
‘Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I wasn’t thinking.’
‘Yeah, well, too late now.’
‘So now she knows about us. But what’s all this about you not being my girlfriend?’
‘Well I’m not. Am I?’
‘You’re not?’
‘No.’
‘I just kiss you because, I don’t know…Why do I kiss you?’
‘How would I know?’
‘Maybe it’s because I love you and that’s why I tell you that all the time?’
‘But you have a girlfriend.’
‘Yeah – you.’
‘So who’s Stella, then? You know, the girl whose horse you ride?’
‘What about Stella?’
‘Your girlfriend Stella.’
‘My girlfriend Stella? You think Stella is my girlfriend?’
‘Isn’t she? You miss her all the time and you ride her horse and your dad knows her and—’
‘Annie, stop. Just stop. All this time you’ve been thinking Stella is my girlfriend?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s why…that’s why everything? Why you keep me a secret, why there’s this wall between us, this barrier I can’t break through?’
He turns away. I don’t know if he’s angry or what. I do know I’m angry, and upset and confused, and I’m the one who should be angry, not him. How dare he kiss me and say all those things when Stella is so far away from him. Was he just going to hide everything from her, go back to normal when she gets back? He’ll forget about me, I know that, but will she ever know? How many other girls has he kissed behind her back, when she’s not there? All those girls on Facebook. Those thousands of girls on Facebook. He can have anyone he wants, whenever he wants. It’s just not fair, nothing is fair. I brush away the tears from my face. I’m not going to let him see me cry. Not now, not ever again.
‘Annie, Stella is not my girlfriend.’ Jack’s turned back around, is facing me. ‘Stella is my sister.’
‘What?’
‘Stella is my younger sister. I thought you knew?’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘Annie…’
‘She’s really your sister?’
‘Yes. Annie, I’m so sorry. All this time, you thought…’ He’s waiting for me. I can’t say anything. I swallow. I stare at him.
‘Annie, I love you. I go crazy when you’re not around, when I can’t see you. Annie – I – just listen to me, there is only you, just you. I hope there will always be just you.’
I nod. It’s all I can do. Then he’s holding me, and wiping away the tears with his fingers and kissing me and for the first time, the first real time, I kiss him back. And we just hold each other, stand there, arms around each other, hearing each other’s hearts beat. Then he lets me go, takes a step backwards.
‘Okay?’ he asks.
I take a deep breath. Nod.
He reaches out and smooths a strand of my wet hair behind my ear.
‘I’d better call my dad, since we’ve got phone coverage here,’ he says. ‘Tell him what’s happening, about the tripwire.’
‘Do you have to? Can’t we just find Pete, get him away?’
But Jack is already taking his phone out of his jacket pocket. ‘It’s going to voicemail,’ he says after a minute, frowning. ‘He must be busy.’
‘Don’t leave a message.’
He holds up his hand to quieten me. ‘Hey Dad, it’s me. Long story, but Annie thinks she knows where Pete is, the guy who blew up his house, and we’re kind of walking up there. We’re up at this place called Lake Rochfort, so if you could meet us up there that would be great. Take the road. You’ll need boltcutters, there’s a locked gate at the bottom. There was a tripwire on the walking track as you enter the bush again just before the lake so there could be more but…’ He stops and sighs, ends the call, puts the phone back in his pocket. ‘Lost the signal.’ He shrugs. ‘That’s enough anyway. Aren’t you going to try to ring your parents?’
‘They’ll still be in their meeting. No point. And anyway, what would I say? Please stop the police from somehow charging up here to arrest Pete?’
‘Look, we’ll find him, we’ll tell him what’s going on. Try to figure out how he’s caught up in all of this.’
‘And then what?’
‘I don’t know, but he can’t stay up here hidden forever. Not with it raining like this. And he can’t be putting tripwires across paths where people walk.’
He points up the track and I start again, him following. We can glimpse the lake to our left now, grey in the rain. The bush is not as thick as it was in the zigzag. The trees are smaller, further apart. The walking is easier, which gives me time to think. Think about Pete, think about Jack, think about me. Me and Jack. Boyfriend, girlfriend. Me, having a boyfriend. Someone who loves me. Like really loves me. Maybe it’s best not to think too much about it.
‘Look, I’m sorry.’ I’ve turned around to face Jack.
‘Sorry for what?’
‘For not realising, for not knowing about Stella, for thinking all that dumb stuff about you.’
‘You don’t have to be sorry. It’s me who should be sorry, for not telling you about her. How many times have I talked about her with you and I never told you she was my sister? It’s my fault. I’m just glad that now you know.’
‘Yes.’
‘You do like me, you do want me as your boyfriend?’
‘I’ve never had a boyfriend.’
‘I’d figured that out. I’ve never had a girlfriend either, not a real girlfriend, if that helps.’
‘But you’ve kissed other girls.’
‘I kissed Sam in front of you, didn’t I? You know it didn’t mean anything.’
‘I mean you’ve kissed girls the same way you kiss me.’
‘No. Not like I kiss you.’
Silence. A fantail, in the bush next to us, at eye level, flits from bush to bush, its black tail feathers spread out.
‘Annie, I’ve got to know. Do you feel the same way as I feel about you?’
I stay still, watching the fantail. Thinking. Thinking about us. Riding on the beach with him on Tassie, sitting in his four-wheel-drive, watching him on the school stage, talking to him on the phone, his dad, Stella. The boy in the black cowboy hat with calluses on his fingers. Jack Robertson, saddle bronc rider. Jack.
I nod.
‘You’ve got to say it, you’ve got to tell me.’ He’s trying not to plead, trying not to be desperate, so I say it, what he wants to hear, just to please him. But suddenly I realise it’s not about pleasing him, it’s about being true to myself. It’s about not hiding from the truth anymore.
‘Yes. I love you.’ And I reach out my hand and he holds it and smiles and looks away and then looks back at me and I know we’re going to be okay. That everything is going to be okay. And we start walking again, but this time we’re holding hands – the track just wide enough to allow us to do it.
‘So how about all those Facebook photos of you and Stella?’ I ask after a bit.
‘What about them?’
‘You’ve got your arms around her.’
‘She’s my sister, we hug. We’re that type of family. What’s wrong with that?’
