Page 24

‘Okay, but if you ever feel like company, I’m happy to oblige.’

‘Thank you.’ Sandra went to her tent and was pleased to find that the kit bag she’d handed over as they’d left the hotel in the passenger four-wheel drive truck this morning was now safely beside the bed. She pulled out a clean set of clothes and a warm jumper, then her toiletries bag and made her way to the shower. First there, she quickly stripped off and was soon standing beneath a bucket of steaming hot water. Conscious of preserving the water, she quickly soaped up and washed off with the second bucket.

As she stepped out onto a fluffy bath mat—talk about a luxury camp—her thoughts went to the afternoon leg of the trek. Graysen had stayed by her side; his conversation had been sporadic, but he’d insisted on detouring with her to the two scenic spots on their route, where they’d stopped for a short rest. Fairy Springs and Scorpion Creek had been disappointing because there wasn’t much water in them, and there wasn’t much wildlife. When they were almost to camp, Graysen had stopped suddenly and she’d heard his camera click on. Sandra’s eyes had been on the trail beneath her boots and she’d gasped when she looked up.

‘Oh wow, how beautiful.’

The saddle known as Hat Hill was illuminated by the setting sun and defined by the dramatic colour of the rocks against the soft sky. Shafts of golden light were back lit by pink and purple; it was one of the most beautiful sunsets Sandra had ever seen.

‘This is what it’s all about.’ Graysen’s voice was soft and his mouth was set as his shutter clicked a dozen times.

She’d glanced at Graysen, but had sensed his words had been more to himself, so she didn’t reply. The more time she spent with him, she was appreciating what a good man he was.

Kind and thoughtful, but still an enigma. She wondered what his background was. All she knew was he was a photographer who had no children. ‘Just me, now. My wife and I were never blessed with kids,’ he’d said.

Just him.

By the time Sandra headed back to her tent from the shower, everyone had arrived at camp, and Jodie called out. ‘Twenty minutes until hors d’oeuvres and drinks around the campfire while dinner cooks, guys. Don’t forget to tell P.D. what you want in the way of drinks.’

Sandra stayed in her tent and pulled her phone out from her backpack and turned it on, pleased to see three bars of service. She lay back on the bed, and appreciated the softness of the pillows behind her.

The first number she dialled was Ellie’s, hoping to catch James before he went to bed.

‘Mum! Hi, great to hear from you. Kane and I were just talking about you.’

‘Saying nice things I hope, and not what a silly mother you have.’

‘Always nice things. How are you? How did you go today? Is it what you expected?’

‘Really well. All that training paid off. My legs are a bit sore, and I’ll probably feel it more in the morning, but our guide said tomorrow’s walk is much flatter than today’s. What’s all that background noise? Are you out?’

‘So, the tour company’s good? How many on it?’ Ellie was much more talkative than usual. Sandra was hard pressed to get a word in. ‘Are they a good group? Is it cold?’

‘It’s excellent. There’s nine of us plus the guides. Some interesting people. The other support staff, the cook and those who set up camp drive in and meet us. But apparently not every day, when there’s no access to some of the more isolated spots.’

‘Have to go, Mum. You take care and I’ll talk to you later. Bye—’

‘Hang on, Ellie can I talk to James. Is he still awake?’

‘Sorry, Mum, he’s asleep. I have to go.’ Ellie’s voice shook and Sandra knew her middle daughter well enough to know she was on the verge of tears.

As the call disconnected a couple of loud voices spoke in the background, and Sandra waited a few minutes before she dialled the number again, a niggle of worry settling in her stomach. The call went straight to voicemail, as did Emma and Dru’s numbers when she tried to call them.

Sandra put the phone down and frowned. There was no point worrying. If there was anything wrong, the girls would have been in touch with her. She lay back on the pillows and did the breathing exercises the clinical psychologist had taught her when she’d been recovering. It had taken a long time for the truth to come out about Peter’s death.

She lay there in an unfamiliar tent in the middle of the bush, and a pang of loneliness hit.

What am I doing here? What am I trying to prove? I should be home with my girls where I belong.

Maybe Dee had gone into labour? Maybe she’d had the babies, and there was something wrong?

A single tear escaped and rolled down Sandra’s cheek.

One day on the trail and I’m losing it.

The rasping screech of a barn owl jerked her from her introspection.

Stop it!