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“Huh, how long have you got?”
“As long as you need.” She gave a crooked smile. “No charge.”
He gave a tiny push with his shoulder into hers, felt the pressure back. Somehow, that little gesture helped the words to flow.
“Drew came to live with us when I was nine and he was ten. His mum worked on and off for my nan and pop, in lambing season and helping with odd jobs. Most years she’d turn up. She was pretty itinerant, but her kid and I hit it off. Then, one year they came—they used to stay in a cottage down the end of the paddock—but after a couple of days she just disappeared, leaving Drew alone. I was too young to really understand it, but I gather she went off to be with some guy in Sydney. He was a drug dealer and she was a pretty heavy user herself.”
He heard Polly inhale sharply. “After a fair bit of toing and froing with his mum and the authorities, Drew lived with us full-time. Nan and Pop became his foster parents. So then they had both of us.” He smiled at her sadly. “We were close before, but after Drew’s mum left, I guess we became like brothers. We did everything together. And Nan and Pop let us have pretty much free rein. We went to different schools but we’d spend our holidays together. I guess Drew brought me out of my shell, taught me to be more adventurous, daring.” He laughed ruefully. “I was a bit of a boffin, into reading and science. He was the one who taught me how to ride a motorbike.”
“He didn’t manage to cure you of your blood phobia, though?”
“No. That had to wait for Professor Crayshaw.”
“Did you teach him to knit?”
Solo grinned. “Funnily enough, knitting wasn’t Drew’s thing. He used to give me serious flack for that, not that it ever stopped me. I knitted him a beanie as an act of revenge before he left for Afghanistan.” He paused. “So, anyway, I went to medical school. And Drew went into the army. It was all he ever wanted. His dad had been in the SAS. Killed in a routine exercise that went wrong, as I understand it. I think Drew felt he had to prove himself. For his mum.”
“Is she still in his life?”
Solo shook his head. “No. She died of a drug overdose when Drew was fifteen. That hit him real hard. But anyway, he was determined and got into the SAS, saw service in Afghanistan. We stayed close during that time, got together whenever he was home.” He took a sip of his wine. “Anyway, you know what happened with the convoy of trucks. How he dragged the driver and two other soldiers to safety. He came back a hero, but that just papered over the cracks that were forming. After a while I sensed he wasn’t doing great. When he decided it was time to go back to being a civilian, I encouraged that. For a while, as you know, he was flying high. Everyone’s darling. He was great with the media and that’s when the reality TV roles started rolling in.”
“Wasn’t he touted to be the nextBachelor?”
Solo smiled grimly. He didn’t need to go into what had brought that to a halt.
“WinningSurvivormade him plenty of dough, gave him the glamour status. But he couldn’t keep up the façade. Behind it, his life was turning pear-shaped. When he admitted to me he was taking a cocktail of cocaine and amphetamines, I wasn’t surprised. He’d changed. His behaviour was unpredictable. I helped organise a place at a private clinic. Kept everything away from the media. He didn’t take it up. Pretended he was okay, that he’d got off it all himself. I didn’t believe him, but I couldn’t force him into treatment either.”
Polly made a noise, like she understood. Despite the fact he barely knew her, she was the only person he could imagine confiding all this in. Even so, he couldn’t tell her all of it. The stuff with Emma. Some things were too hard to speak out loud.
He tightened his lips. “So he kept hiding his shit from the world, and that’s when he got a contract with Channel Ten forThe Bachelor. But by then, his drug use was seriously escalating. And then, when Pop died suddenly of a heart attack,BAM. I think Pop was the last thread that held Drew onto reality. He lost it completely after that. That’s when the psychosis set in. After Pop’s funeral he turned up at my apartment, ranting and raving, and I knew then things were really bad. I tried to stop him getting in his car, but the drugs made him potentially violent. The only thing I could do was follow him and call 000. I got to him as he reached the Gap. I had to talk him down until the police got there.”
“Jesus, Solo, you put your own safety at risk.”
“I wasn’t thinking about my safety at that moment.”
Polly shook her head. “I remember the footage, with the police cars and ambulances on standby… You were there too!”
“Yes, though I managed to keep my face out of view. I didn’t need to be known as the guy who saved Drew Faulkner from killing himself.”
“Oh, that’s horrible. No wonder you got on your motorbike and rode off into the never-never.”
“Yeah, it was a pretty good incentive to get the hell out of there. The thing is, I would probably never have left except Drew started to send all those texts. He was out of his mind, furious that I stopped him from killing himself. I didn’t blame him, but I knew with Pop dying and now this, I had to let other professionals treat Drew. Disappear for a while.”
“You did the right thing,” Polly said. Her eyes were soft, almost mossy, and her hand came back and squeezed his arm. He liked it there, wished she’d keep it there. He touched her fingers lightly, and she intertwined hers with his.
It was so tender his heart lurched and sputtered in his chest.
“There’s something else, isn’t there?”
Her eyes were lasering into him, and he had to look away quickly so she wouldn’t see, that yes, there was more; more hurt, more betrayal.
“No,” he lied. “That’s the only reason I’m here. I’ve heard Drew’s responding to treatment. The messages have stopped. But I don’t want to risk contacting him. Not yet.”
“You have been the best friend he could ever wish for. Someday he’ll realise that. Do you think you’ll be able to mend the rift?”
Tentatively he stroked her fingers. How soft they were. “I don’t know. But I hope so.”
“And you’ll go back to Sydney, after this locum job is over?”
