a place far away,
where I’m appreciated for my teaching.
I’ll forget what happened here.
Tonight, alone on the platform
as the train pulled in,
I heard a voice shouting at me.
Angry, strangled,
threatening across the fields.
My legs almost buckled as I opened the door
and stepped into this lonely carriage.
Burruga is cursed, haunted.
I take out pencil and paper
and start drafting a letter of resignation.
It’s brief and to the point.
First thing Monday morning.
I don’t care if it looks suspicious.
No one can stop me leaving.
I pat the wallet in my breast pocket
and hope I have enough money
for tonight and tomorrow.
I need comfort, release,
a distraction,
to help me forget.
Mr Carter
It was late at night
when I heard the footsteps
outside my bedroom window.
Albert Holding stood
looking up at the houses.
He was there for a long time
staring at the Holmes house,
or the Paley place.
I couldn’t tell which.
He wasn’t trying to hide.
He was very still, watching,
almost wanting to be seen.
This morning
I think of telling Mr Holmes,
or Mayor Paley,
about their visitor,
until I realise that Eddie and Sally
are friends, good friends.
Perhaps that’s it?
But why would Albert
not want Eddie and Sally . . .
it doesn’t make sense.
I walk slowly into town
going over it in my mind.
Albert’s not the type
to worry about his boys with a girl.
They can look after themselves.
And then it hits me.
Good Lord.
Mayor Paley
That bloody Holding has a nerve,
hanging about my house last night.
I have a right to call Grainger
when I get into the office this morning,
have him warn Holding about loitering
like a common thief.
Wilma hands me my lunch
and kisses me on the cheek.
Well, let Holding come back tonight,
and every night,
for all I care.
He doesn’t worry me.
I’ll do what I did last night:
close the curtain,
pour myself a strong scotch
with no ice,
and drink it in one gulp.
It calms me down.
Eddie
Sally and I start the long climb
up to Jaspers Hill.
I lead her along the narrow track,
overgrown with the banksia and honeysuckle.
We step over rabbit holes
and wallaby droppings.
A chicken hawk fluttering like a kite
casts a perfect shadow across the path.
All our effort is on reaching the top
where the sun heats the granite rocks.
When we finally make it
we’re both sweating.
I lean back against the smooth boulders
and Sally looks over the town.
‘It seems so small from up here.’
She sits beside me
and her hair falls in front of her face.
She leans forward
and wraps the thick locks in her hands,
folding them into a shiny knot.
A long vein throbs in the milk skin of her neck.
She says,
‘It’s good to be away from everyone.
I can’t believe some of the rumours.’
Then she looks embarrassed.
‘About Colleen. Not us.’
Sally asks,
‘Do you think they’ll find who did it?’
I reach for her hand
and pull her gently towards me.
The only answer I can find is to kiss her
and try to forget what I saw last night.
She leans across me and smiles,
‘We’re all alone . . .’
Mr Carter
Mrs Kain comes in early
with a classified she wants me to run.
For a while
I’m distracted from my suspicions.
Who do I tell?
Pete Grainger?
Or should I talk to Albert first?
Get some idea why he was standing there.
Or Paley?
Could it be?
The sleep of a honest man is sweet,
the torture of the guilty endless.
I raise the blinds in the office
and watch the ladies going into the Emporium.
Our mayor.
When I was young
my mother always said,
‘The more money, the more lies.’
It’s why I became a newspaperman.
The truth.
And now, do I know the truth?
I place my cup on the sink,
reach for my jacket and my hat.
When I close the door behind me,
I turn to lock it, then decide not to.
It’s time to start trusting my town again.
I walk down the street to the police station.
Eddie
After I take Sally home,
I wander to Taylors