Catherine Jinks TheRoad (68 page)

He had an awful feeling that they were
nev
er
going to come back.

But for once his premonitions of doom had proved to be unfounded. He heard an engine, looked up and there they were, Del and Ross and Alec and Mongrel, slowly coming into focus in the beat-up old Ford station wagon – which was so plastered with dust that its multicoloured paintwork was barely visible. Linda whooped. Verlie started to dab at her eyes.

Peter was relieved, but hung back until the Ford had swerved off the road and shuddered to a halt behind the caravan. Then he joined the crowd that surged towards it. Del was out of her seat before the engine had even been switched off. Ross emerged more sedately, looking a bit stiff, and was immediately claimed by his wife.

Alec sat for a few minutes behind the wheel. Peter watched him, because it seemed to Peter that Alec had more insight into their situation than anyone else. And when he saw that Alec’s face was pale, and that his eyes were red with strain, Peter’s sudden rush of high spirits drained away like water down a plughole.

‘It’s all right,’ Del was saying. ‘We’re all right. Sorry we’re late, but it was all in a good cause.’

‘What happened?’ Linda wanted to know. ‘What’s all that stuff in the back seat?’

‘Supplies.’ Del gave an unconvincing, lopsided smile, displaying her jagged yellow teeth. ‘We got ’em from Thorndale.’

‘Thorndale?’

‘Alec was quite right,’ Ross broke in, and Peter gave him credit for saying so – because it had always seemed to Peter that Ross didn’t think much of Alec. But Ross, on closer inspection, seemed to have changed. Peter couldn’t put his finger on it; he could tell only that Mr Harwood looked older, somehow. The man’s eyes were pouchy and his shoulders sagged. ‘We’re only about fifteen minutes from Thorndale,’ he continued, ‘and there definitely has been a shooting.
Several
shootings.’

‘Uh – right,’ said Noel, with a nervous glance at Rosie. ‘Peter, why don’t you take the girls into the caravan and play with them?’

Peter was appalled.
Play
with them? ‘But
Dad
...’

‘Go on, please. Off you go.’

‘Let’s play dragon in the dark,’ said Rose happily, taking her brother’s hand, and Louise said: ‘
I
don’t wanna play dragon in the dark. It’s my turn for the headphones.’

‘It doesn’t matter what you do, just go and do something,’ Noel instructed, with a grave and reproving glance at Peter. Del was saying, ‘We found some petrol. Just one can. The other cans were empty, but there was one that musta been missed – and we got some extra fuel outta the Land Rover . . .’ Ross was fighting off Verlie’s suggestions that he come and lie down, have a cup of tea (or maybe coffee), relax, put his feet up . . .

Peter took Rose around the back of the caravan, where he tried to teach her how to play noughts-and-crosses.

He understood exactly what must have happened. Del and Ross and Alec must have driven a short distance down the road, found Alec’s truck, and decided to head for Thorndale – perhaps so that they could pick up more petrol. There couldn’t have been anybody at Thorndale, at least not anybody who wasn’t dead (Peter knew quite well what they meant by ‘a shooting’), so they had loaded up the station wagon with extra food, water, blankets or whatever. And they had managed to get back. That was interesting. They couldn’t reach Broken Hill or Coombah, but they had been able to reach Thorndale, and then they had retraced their route, at least as far as the caravan.