“We’re as much to blame as anyone! You even more so!”
Billy waved a hand. “Ah, Jesus, can you not just let all that go?”
“Let it go? Have you heard yourself. Let it fucking go?”
“It was twenty-one years ago, we were children.”
Tommy was shaking. “I still wake up in that crater sometimes. The noise of it, the smells. You talk like it’s forgotten, likewe did nothing wrong.”
“We didn’t. That’s what I’m saying. Not compared to him. Noone used us, Tommy, you just said so yourself. Twisting everything,like he did with me and Drew Bennett, the man’s a fucking snake in the grass. He ruined our lives, sending you off, splittingus up. Now’s the chance to put it right.”
“I don’t want nothing from you. I’m happy. Don’t go fucking that up.”
“He’s old now, Tommy,” Billy said, smiling. “A feeble old man, so I’ve heard. Got comfy in his mansion in Brisbane, sittingin lounges, smoking cigars.”
“Leave it alone. For God’s sake, Billy. Please.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not just for me I’m doing this. I’ve a family now.”
“Exactly. And you know what he’ll do. Who he’ll go after next.”
Billy stubbed out his cigarette. “After the inquest, after it all came out, me and Katherine have had no kind of marriage,she can’t stand to look at me almost, told me so herself, and the children’ll find out soon enough who their old man is, ifthey haven’t already figured it out. I have to do something, Tommy. Before it’s too late.”
“It is too late. You already are whatever they think.”
“I know that. Which is why I have to change it, confess.”
Utter disbelief in Tommy’s stare. “And what? Then they’ll forgive you?”
“Aye, maybe.”
“It isn’t worth the risk.”
Billy looked at him sadly. “You’re still that scared of him, eh?”
“With good reason.”
“Not anymore, mate. Not anymore. It’s a whole different country out there. Look, I came down here to see you, and tell you,not ask your permission about all this. I’ve missed you, Tommy. Thought maybe you felt the same. I suppose I was hoping you’dcome home, get Glendale going, be together again.”
“Glendale’s a slaughterhouse. How can you even . . . ?”
Billy stared at him a long time, faint pity in his eyes. Outside, through the rain patter, Tess barked then fell silent andthe horses nickered loudly in the barn. Billy rose and gathered his cigarettes, shoved them into his pocket, drained his tea.
“I’m glad I found you, anyhow. I was worried you might be dead. If ever you want to visit, you know where we are. Stay safe,little brother. Thanks for the tea.”
“Wait,” Tommy said, standing. “What you doing?”
“I didn’t come all this way to lose you again. Not like this.”
“Hold up, now. Sit down.”
“I know when I’m not welcome.”
“’Course you bloody are.”
A wan smile. “You know, I actually thought you’d be all for it, me coming forward, saying what went on. I know how cut upyou always were.”
Tommy had no answer for that. The idea of publicly confessing had never occurred to him before. He asked, “When is this hearinganyhow?”
Billy waved a hand. “Not soon. Months, maybe, the deal needs arranging first. And Wells is on about visiting the crater. Iwasn’t expecting that.”
“You’ve not been back?”
“What do you reckon?”
“You were so casual about it, Billy. Even after, it was like they were nothing.”
Billy was silent a long time, a faraway look in his eyes. “I’m not proud of who I was back then. There’s a lot I’m not proudof, even now.”
His head hung, searching the floor. It was the first glimpse of contrition Tommy had ever seen from his brother, more than he could have imagined, and for a moment the admission hung like fire smoke, clogging the air in the room, clouding everything between them, until Billy jerked to life and snatched a breath as if it was forgotten, a gust of wind blowing the smoke clear.
“Right, well, I’d best be off.”
“What time’s the Melbourne train?”
“Next one’s not till tomorrow. There a decent hotel in town?”
Tommy scoffed. “There’s rooms at the pub but nothing decent about them. Stop for a bite at least, won’t you? I could put somesupper on?”
“You sure? A minute ago you seemed ready to throw me out the door.”
“Mind, I’ve not got much food in and I’m no kind of a cook. Emily was meant to be bringing two pies up, and Rosie usuallydoes the meals, so . . .”
“Two women now, is it? Ain’t you a dark horse?”
“Rosie’s Arthur’s missus. They live in the house out back.”
“Arthur? As in . . . ?”
Tommy nodded. “We split the land between us. Share it, I mean.”
“Well, bugger me.”
“Not sure how welcome you’d be at their place though.”
Billy raised his hands in acceptance. “I’ll take whatever you’ve got.” He reached for his mug. “And maybe something strongerthan tea?”
They took a bottle of whiskey out onto the front verandah and sat together on the bench, watching the gully through the curtainof the rainstorm, the daylight already fading, raising their voices over the din. Tommy lit the lanterns and sloshed a largemeasure of whiskey into their rinsed-out mugs; they touched, silently saluted, and sat there drinking contentedly, until Tommysaid, “You really married Mrs. Sullivan?”
“I did,” Billy said, laughing. “Luckiest bastard that ever lived. Like I said, if it hadn’t been for William coming it mightnot have happened—I missed you at the wedding, brother, stood up there on my own.”
“In Bewley?”
“The little church. Same as always. Nothing much has changed.”
“I saw the birth notice in The Queenslander. Suzanna. Four, it said?”
“I thought you didn’t read the northern papers?” Billy said, glancing at him. Tommy shrugged. “Aye, two boys, two girls. Thegirls are angels. Isobel, the
