‘What? Why?’
‘There’s been some calls.’ She waved away his concern. It didn’t matter. Couldn’t matter. Why on earth had she thought they could patch this up? It was impossible.
‘Prita,’ he said, his tone plea, warning and caring all wrapped in one.
That tone stabbed at her, making her hurt more than anything he’d said before. She spun around before he could say anything else. ‘I have to go.’ She did. Before she started crying.
‘Do you want one of us to go with you?’ Barb asked.
She blinked rapidly, breathing past the burn of tears in her chest. ‘No. Please. Don’t spoil your night any more than it is already. I’m a big girl. I’m used to taking care of things by myself.’
‘I didn’t mean to hurt you.’
The words were whispered but they might as well have been a gun shot. The muscles in her jaw clenched so tightly, it hurt. She took a deep breath in, meaning to tell him he hadn’t hurt her, he could never hurt her, but instead the tears burned hot and bright, starring her vision, and in a thick voice she said, ‘I have to go,’ grabbed her bag from the bench and ran for the door before anyone could stop her.
She jumped in her car and tore up the dirt road and onto the main road then did another left without thinking, onto the dirt road that ran to the top paddock where she stopped to spill out of the car and take in her favourite view of the hills that rose up from the valley floor to become the mountains at her back.
When she was a teenager, when she was upset or overwhelmed, she would run to the park and stare up at the sky through the trees, imagining herself one of those brilliant suns, burning forever in the cold of space where no-one could hurt her. She’d let that feeling soak over her, into her, until her racing thoughts stopped and she was able to breathe past the tightness in her chest. She’d wipe the tears from her face and make herself return to her mother’s family, spine firm against the constant pressure to make her bend to their will. When she was old enough to drive, she’d hopped in the car her father had bought for her—the one thing she’d asked of him that he’d given her and her mother’s family had been unable to take away—and drive to a lookout in the Dandenong’s and do the same thing. When she’d come here, the first time she’d felt overwhelmed by all the changes being Carter’s mum brought, she’d driven through the winding road to Walhalla to climb to the top of the hill cemetery, but after Reid had brought her and the kids here one day to swim in the dam when the pool at CoalCliff was being resurfaced, she’d known this was her place. And she’d needed it. She’d come here when Doc Simpson’s narrow-minded approach made her so angry, she could spit. When the bullying towards Carter was at its worst. When Doc Simpson and his cronies began to turn nasty, before she decided to set up for herself. When the urge to leave and go back to the life she’d had before Carter nudged at her too hard—she’d hated that one most of all. She’d wait until she was alone, when Carter was at school or at CoalCliff doing rock climbing squad or having horse riding lessons or just playing with Aaron and Tilly, and she’d drive here and imagine herself soaring up there, high above everything, until she was able to feel more in control and able to turn back and face up to whatever was creating such turmoil inside.
Papa had a term for why she needed this so much. An rud a lionas an tsuil lionann se an croi. What fills the eye also fills the heart. And usually it did the trick, but right now, as she stood there beside the dam and the dead ghost gum whose branches were like arms lifting up to the still bright blue sky of summer’s early evening, she couldn’t feel it. That sense of peace. All she could feel was turmoil and failure and like everything was about to come tumbling down around her.
Why did everything feel too much? Why had she slapped Flynn? She’d been angry before and never resorted to being physical. She hadn’t even realised she’d done it. And the look of shock on everyone’s faces. Hell. How was she ever going to face them again?
But she had to. She had to find a way. This was her home now. Hers and Carters. She’d let her hurt and her hot-headedness, her passion, almost get in the way of that.
No more.
She needed to take a breath and calm down. She also had to go to the police and finish her report. But she just couldn’t deal with that yet. She’d thought she was handling things, but apparently, she couldn’t deal with Flynn and the way he made her feel, the threatening caller and this aching, pushing, echoing loneliness at the same time. She plonked down, leaning her back against the ghost gum and looked up through its bear arms to the twinkling of stars in the twilight and tried to breathe. Tried to fill her heart with the peace of the sky so big and wide above her and the hills falling away in front of her. There was so much freedom here. And she needed that right now, when the ropes that bound her to the past were twining around the ones she was binding herself to in the present, tightening, constricting.
Shit. Shit.
This wasn’t working. She got up and paced beside the dam, back and forth, breathing in deep, thinking of all her plans, all the things she wanted for Carter and herself until she began to calm down. Yes. That’s it. She had plans and she was going to stick to
