The Sun in Her Eyes (16 page)

I shake my head. Maybe Ethan could come here? No, Dad probably wouldn’t want that.

‘Go,’ he says again, more firmly. ‘I can watch television for an hour. In fact, set me up with that video game.’

I hesitate, the idea of turning Ethan down almost too painful to bear.

‘Are you sure?’ I ask requisitely, but I won’t take much more persuading.

Ethan and I arrange to meet at a coffee shop on Norwood Parade, and I have a spring in my step as I walk out of the house into the warm sunshine. The sky is blue, the birds are singing, and
I’m free from Alcatraz! I feel on top of the world.

I arrive first and order a latte, taking a seat by the window. It’s blissful watching the world go by. After a few minutes, Ethan passes on the pavement outside with his head down. He
pushes open the door and scans the interior and I smile and wave when he finally locates me. He smiles back, with less warmth than I’m used to from him. It reminds me that things are not as
they were.

‘I’ll just grab a coffee,’ he calls.

I nod and return to people-watching.

‘Hey,’ he says when he joins me, bending down to give me a kiss on my cheek. It’s only a peck, but it’s a small step in the right direction. He pulls up a stool.
‘Glad you could make it.’

‘Dad said he’d play
Medal of Honour
while I’m gone,’ I explain.

‘The time will whizz by,’ he promises. ‘I was in the city, so I thought I’d try my luck.’

There’s a sort of nervous energy radiating from him. He’s not at ease, that’s clear.

‘What were you doing in the city?’ I ask, trying not to feel disconcerted as I take a sip of my latte.

‘Meeting with buyers. We’ve been busy bottling this week so I brought in some bottles for tasting. I’ve got one for you in the car, actually. I thought your dad might like to
try it.’

‘That’s very kind of you,’ I say genially.

‘What have you been up to this week?’ he asks, glancing at my lips, followed by my neck and finally, my collarbone.

‘Just looking after Dad,’ I reply, swallowing. No ‘just’ about it.

His eyes lift to meet mine. ‘Have you spoken to Tina?’

‘I texted her on Wednesday to see how she was. I think they’re okay.’ I shrug. ‘Why? Have you spoken to Josh?’

‘The same. Texted him on Wednesday.’ He sighs. ‘I don’t know.’

‘She wants to get married.’ I glance out of the window. ‘Josh had better pull his finger out if he doesn’t want to lose her.’

‘Do you think she’ll leave him?’ he asks.

‘I don’t know her as well as I used to, but I wouldn’t be surprised.’ I cast him a sideways look, but he averts his gaze. He may be uncomfortable around me, but I’m
still pleased to be here.

‘What are you doing this weekend?’ he asks as he walks me home.

‘Nell and I are going to the movies tomorrow night and I might meet Tina for lunch tomorrow. Are we still going to the property on Sunday?’ I’ve been wondering if it’s
likely, considering recent events.

‘I’d like to take you if you’re free.’ He eyes me speculatively.

‘I am
so
free,’ I reply with relief. ‘Honestly, I’ve felt trapped this week.’ I feel guilty at the admission, like I’m betraying Dad.

‘That’s understandable,’ he says, and for a split second I think he’s going to reach over and take my hand. But he doesn’t.

‘I’d invite you in, but he’s been a bit funny about visitors,’ I say as we come to a stop outside Dad’s house.

‘It’s okay. I should be heading back, anyway. I’ll pick you up around eleven on Sunday. Maybe we’ll get a bite to eat at a pub on the way?’

‘Sounds perfect.’ I spin round and flash him a smile as I walk up the path. ‘See you then.’

On Sunday, I wake up to a sky filled with heavy black clouds. As the morning wears on, the air becomes increasingly hot and humid, and there’s a strong northerly wind. It
is the worst sort of weather.

‘Not a good day to be going out bush,’ Liz says pointedly.

It’s a futile warning, because I’m going, rain or shine.

Ethan texted earlier to tell me to wear boots because there are snakes lurking in the grass.

‘Take a raincoat as well,’ Liz says when I emerge from my bedroom wearing a dark-green summer dress, teamed with cowboy boots.

Jeans would be sweltering, but I don’t feel right in a knee-length dress, either. ‘Thunderstorms are forecast,’ she adds.

‘Be careful,’ Dad adds, and I flash Liz a dark look for scaremongering him.

‘I’ll be fine, Dad,’ I promise, keeping one eye on the window.

A few minutes later, Ethan’s willow-green Jaguar E-Type convertible hums into our street. I give Dad a hug and practically skip out of the door.

‘Howdy,’ I say to Ethan with a grin, climbing in and buckling up. I breathe in deeply and feel a bubble of happiness burst inside my stomach.

‘Okay?’ he asks, his tanned hand resting on the gearstick.

‘Desperately.’

He grins and pulls away from the kerb.

I’ve left my hair down, but the moment we’re on the highway, I acknowledge my mistake. Ethan laughs as I squeal and try to hold my flyaway strands down with my hands.

‘I’ll be crying later when I have to drag a hairbrush through this mess,’ I complain jokily, raising my voice over the sound of the Jag.

‘That’s why I keep mine short,’ he says.

I smirk and instinctively run my hand over the back of his head before giving up and letting my hands fall into my lap. I’m not going to worry about my hair on top of everything else.

Soon the highway gives way to winding country roads. It feels like we’re being blasted with a giant hairdryer as we speed along, the scent of ever-present eucalyptus mingling with the
smell of leather and oil from the classic car’s seats and engine. The banks are covered with cream-coloured stones and, when I look over my shoulder, I see that we’re leaving clouds of
dust in our wake. Even the leaves on the trees look like they’re coated with a fine film. It hasn’t rained for way too long.

We stop at a country pub, sitting inside where we’re sheltered from the heat by thick, blue-stone walls. There are a few locals hanging out at the bar, watching the cricket on the
telly.

Ethan is wearing a faded blue T-shirt and grey shorts with chunky brown boots. We’ve both ordered fish and chips.

‘Can you put the roof up in the car?’ I ask him, dipping a chip into some ketchup.

‘Yeah,’ he replies. ‘Might put it up when we get there, just in case it rains while we’re walking.’

‘Is the property very big?’

‘Fifty acres.’

‘Fifty acres?’ I gape at him.

‘We’ll only plant four to start with,’ he says.

I run my fingers through my hair to try to detangle it. ‘I must look as though I’ve been dragged through a bush backwards.’

‘It suits you like that,’ he replies flippantly. ‘All wild and windswept.’

I glance at him, a shiver rippling down my spine as his green-eyed gaze drifts to my mouth. It lingers there for a moment before dropping to my hand. My left hand, specifically. My ring finger,
most likely.

I’m left feeling oddly shaken as I turn back to my lunch.

Something has shifted between us. It’s a subtle change, but it’s unmistakable.

I’m still feeling on edge during the next leg of our journey. We don’t say much, but the atmosphere feels charged as I stare out at the wide-open spaces, old hollowed-out trees and
occasional kangaroo’s ears poking up above long, dry grass.

Eventually Ethan pulls onto a dirt road, stopping at a wire gate that he has to open and close again after driving through.

‘We can only drive in so far because the ground is rocky,’ he tells me, sounding, to my slight surprise, perfectly normal.

Perhaps I imagined the change in atmosphere. Maybe it’s just the air around us that feels charged and heavy with the imminent storm.

We pass a big aluminium shed, followed by a small dam only half full of water. The dry, grassy land on our left slopes upward to high hills dotted with big grey boulders and enormous old gum
trees. I spy a flock of dirty-looking sheep nestled amongst the rocks, and a few more tell-tale dark triangles appearing above the long grass. A moment later, the triangles transform into
full-blown roos and I smile as a group of them up sticks and lazily hop away.

Ethan stops the car and shuts off the ignition.

‘We’ll walk from here,’ he says. ‘Jump out and I’ll put the roof up.’

The dark thunderclouds have cast a strange yellow light across the land. I stand and drink in the scenery. It’s breathtaking: wild and untouched. We could have stepped back in time.

‘Let’s go,’ he urges with a smile, slinging a backpack over his shoulder.

We walk along a rocky track for a while and then head uphill. Soon my legs are aching with exertion. I’m unfit from sitting around so much and I’m even more out of breath than usual
due to the stuffy, humid air. We reach a high rocky mound and turn to survey the scene before us. There’s a creek down to our left, carving its way crookedly through the landscape, and
punctuated with eucalyptuses along its banks. My heart lifts as a flock of pink-and-grey galahs take flight from the sprawling branches of a tree, squawking noisily as they move in a flurry across
the dark sky. I shake my head with amazement.

‘It’s beautiful,’ I say.

‘We’ll clear that patch there.’ Ethan points to the large flat expanse at the bottom of the hill.

‘Have you put in an offer on the land?’ I ask.

‘The sale’s already gone through.’

‘Really? That was quick.’

‘I don’t waste time,’ he says with a shrug.

‘It’s so hot.’ I wipe my brow. ‘Can we sit down for a bit?’

‘Course.’ He looks around for a suitable place. ‘I hope this weather doesn’t hang around. It’s a really bad time of year to be having a heat spike.’

‘In what way?’ I follow him as we climb over some sharper-edged rocks.

‘It can burn the leaves on the grapevines, halt the ripening process,’ he explains, coming to a large, rounded boulder. We sit down, side by side, and he gets a couple of bottles of
water out of his backpack.

‘Are you still planning on building a house here?’ I ask, taking a bottle from him gratefully.

‘There,’ he says, casually placing his left hand on my back and leaning closer to point with his right, while holding the water bottle in his fingers. I follow the line of his
extended digit to see a patch of grassy land on the other side of the creek, beside an enormous brown-and-grey gum.

A vision comes to me of Ethan with a future wife, surrounded by children. I picture him living here, working the land and waking up each day with a smile on his face.

Something inside me tightens. If we could choose to live in a parallel universe, I’d want to live here with him.

He turns to look at me, letting his hand fall from my back as his green eyes search my face. All of a sudden, my head is screaming at me to get up and walk away.

Then there’s a loud crack, and we jerk in time to see a bolt of lightning shoot from the sky in the not-so-far distance.

‘Jesus,’ I exclaim, clutching my hand to my chest and laughing out loud with a strange kind of relief. Ethan laughs too, the spell between us broken.

‘How are things with Sadie?’ I ask, hankering for normality.

‘Fine,’ he replies. ‘How are things with Ned?’

‘Fine.’ I match his nonchalance. ‘Have you worked out what’s going on with that bloke, David, yet?’ I ask.

‘Nope. She says nothing, but I don’t know. Are you still worried about Zara?’

‘Nah.’ I shake my head. ‘Well, maybe a bit,’ I admit. ‘But whatever.’

His gaze shifts to something behind me and his face freezes.

‘What?’ I ask, whipping my head round to see what has made him look so alarmed.

There’s a fire raging in a far-off field, and I stare with my heart in my throat as, seconds later, it leaps to the next. A blast of blazing heat scorches our faces and we scramble to our
feet as the fire roars towards the creek, flames leaping up to engulf the big old gum beside Ethan’s future house.

‘Should we run to your car?’ I ask, panicked.

‘No.’ He shakes his head, fear distorting his features. I look back to see that the fire has jumped straight over the creek and is already tearing across the flat plain below.

‘Quick!’ Ethan yells, half dragging me off the rocks as another gust of hot wind blows in our direction. The fire starts racing uphill.

We scramble over the back of the boulders and Ethan looks around frantically.

‘The dam?’ I cry.

‘Too far.’ He shakes his head. There’s a massive explosion from the direction of his car and his eyes widen. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck,’ he mutters, clamping his hands to
his head with despair.

‘What are we going to do?’ I demand to know, hysteria building inside me.

‘Shh, it’s okay,’ he says, pushing me up against one of the boulders towering above our heads. ‘Hopefully the wind will keep the fire on the plains, but if it blows it up
here, it may leap over the rocks. We just need to stay away from the grass.’ Ethan speaks with authority, but I can tell he’s as petrified as I am.

A mob of kangaroos manically hop away across the hill rising in front of us, their earlier lazy gait nowhere to be seen. Then I see a large, deadly-looking black snake slithering towards us. It
slides straight into a crack between the rocks at my feet. I bury my face in Ethan’s chest and scream, losing all control.

‘It’s okay, it’s okay,’ he murmurs, and then he’s cupping my jaw and pressing his lips against mine. He gives me two chaste kisses before holding my head against
his chest.

I’m stunned into silence. I’m aware that he did it to calm me, but
he just kissed me on my lips
!

I draw away from him, staring up at his face. My heart quickens and the heavens open, but I barely even notice as fat drops of rain begin to fall around us. The look in his eyes is intense,
unguarded. I lift my hand up to stroke my thumb across his cheek. My lips part, and then he brings his mouth down to mine.

We kiss like it will be our last, heat searing our throats as the fire continues to rage across the land below us. I can taste ash as I hold his face in my hands and he presses his body against
mine, the hard boulder trapping me in place. I think of Ned, but only distantly, as though he’s inside a box in a cobwebby cupboard of my brain. If I’m going to die, I’m going to
die kissing Ethan Lockwood.