Steph stood, picked up a log and tossed it into the fire. There was a sparkle of tiny embers that flew slightly out and up, the fireplace giving a couple of snaps and pops, then she settled back into her chair.
“Did you end up marrying?” I asked, but she slowly shook her head, her eyes staring back into the flames again as they took hold of the new log and slowly licked the sides, gradually enveloping it.
“Toby left on the bus for Melbourne the following week.” Her voice was now almost a whisper as she fought to contain her emotion within. Judging by the tears, it was a fight she was about to lose. “The doctors told me that he died almost instantly. The bus ran off the road on a bend near Mount Macedon. The driver survived and said there had been a sudden downpour, then a car had passed them a little too close and he had tried to steer the bus away but lost control. It slid sideways, rolled and then slammed into a tree.” The sobs began now, her words becoming almost inaudible. She fought them away desperately, wanting to share her sadness with me. “Toby was flung half out of one of the windows and was trapped between the bus and the tree. I never got to say-” But that was as far as she got, her sobs now putting a halt to any further words she wanted to share. I did the only thing I could think of and removed a handkerchief from my pocket, handing it to her. She accepted it and wiped at her eyes.
“I’m sorry for your loss. I, too, lost someone close to me when I was about your age.” Steph looked at me, tears still flowing, but they had slowed. “Yes, it’s true. But definitely a story for another day.” I took a sip of my beer and waited for her to regain her composure, which she did relatively quickly, considering her grief. She took a sip of wine then lit a cigarette, blowing the tendrils of blue smoke toward the fireplace. We sat in silence for almost ten minutes before she began to speak again.
“It was just so dam cruel; you know? There I was, 16; pregnant; in school; living with my mum and the father of my unborn child dead. My mum and I spent many nights talking and crying and deciding what to do. In the end, we decided to have the baby and then move to the city. Somewhere where nobody knew us and there wouldn’t be too many questions asked. For me, I wanted a job where I didn’t have to be constantly explaining the situation. It was my mum that convinced me to just call Jude my sister for the time being. There was really no reason to explain anything to anyone, and once we arrived in Cider Hill years later, people didn’t really know us. My mum never had a huge number of friends around these parts. She stayed home more than anything and when she did venture out, it was Ballarat that she would visit more often than not.” I understood the politics with unwed mothers of newborn infants. I also know that it would have been an uphill struggle to keep the baby in the first place with most being forced to put the baby up for adoption, not that I wanted to open that can of worms.
“And now you have a job where you get to ask the questions.” She laughed at that; a sound that made me smile.
“Yes. I guess that was one of the reasons I wanted to become a police constable. I wanted to ask the questions, not answer them.” She turned to me again, holding her cigarette in one hand. “Thank you for listening, Jim. I’m sorry I put that on you, but I haven’t really ever had the chance to tell anybody before.” I held my hand up, stopping her.
“Don’t mention it. And I promise you that I will never share it with anybody.” She stood, walked over to me and kissed my cheek. I stood before her and held her close, hugging her tightly. She returned my hug for a moment then pulled away.
“Ok,” she said, tossing her cigarette butt into the fire, “time to do some work.”
11.
Steph led the way back out into the dining room and opened the top box from Crab Apple. She began to pull out its contents a piece at a time, depositing each on to the
