Chapter Four

Tia's stomach rumbled loudly as she sat down. Across the table, her mother smiled. It was a tentative smile, but there was something terribly familiar about it. Tia felt a sudden hunger deep inside that had nothing to do with food.

The table looked as if Trish had emptied her entire pantry. There was a big bowl of canned fruit salad and a pile of toast with butter and vegemite on standby. There were also two plates loaded high with the product of Trish's grill, enough sausages and bacon and grilled tomatoes to feed a small army. Not to mention eggs and steakettes. Tomato sauce, a large pot of tea and some milk completed the array. Tia would have preferred coffee, but this wasn't the time to ask.

‘This is some breakfast,' Helen said. ‘Do you often eat like this?'

Tia almost smiled. ‘No. This is just Trish trying to help. It's what she does.'

‘She seems very nice. But she does talk rather a lot.'

This time, Tia did smile. ‘Yeah. I know. But she is good people. Everyone in the town loves her.'

What were they doing talking about Trish? Tia picked up her knife and fork and cut a corner off a perfectly browned steakette. She ate it, barely tasting her favourite breakfast treat while she tried to think of what to say. Her mother beat her to it.

‘It's so good to see you. How are you?' Helen's voice broke a little on the last word.

‘I'm all right. I have a job. I like living here in Coorah Creek.'

‘And you have Max …'

Tia smiled. ‘Yes. I have Max.'

‘Tell me about Max. How did you meet him?'

It would be easy to talk about Max. Far easier than talking about themselves and the thing that had driven them apart. Talking about Max would help this first meeting pass. Make it easier on both of them. Tia looked at her mother's face and saw a terrible need there; the need to know about Tia's life. And more than that, she saw the desire to make amends and to be forgiven. As if a few minutes talk could ever make up for the past years. Nothing could take back what she had been through.

Tia put down her food, clenching her hands tightly against the sudden anger surging through her.

‘How did we meet?' Her voice was hard. ‘I'll tell you how we met, Mother. We met because I had stolen a motorcycle and a gun. We met when Max was thinking he should arrest me. We met when my former lover was holding a gun to my head. A gun he'd already used to kill one cop. You want to know how I am. I'm all right, but no thanks to you.'

Tia couldn't sit still one moment longer. She got to her feet and ran out of the room. She heard her mother's voice behind her, but not the words, only the despair. She reached her bike, pulled her helmet on, and a few seconds later she was doing what she always did when she was hurt or angry — she was riding at high speed towards the open highway.

Helen clutched her stomach, feeling as if she was about to be ill. The vehemence of Tia's hatred ripped through her like a physical thing. Not that she could blame her. Helen struggled to comprehend what Tia had said. A gun? A killer? How had her daughter become involved with that? Had Tia's life been in danger too?

A strangled sob escaped her. A mother's first duty was to protect her child. She had failed at that, as she had at so many other things. In this moment, as in so many others that had gone before, she hated herself.

A noise from the rear of the pub sent Helen struggling to her feet. The last thing she wanted to do was face Trish Warren. The woman might mean well, but if Helen had to answer one question, she would lose it. The pub door beckoned and Helen didn't hesitate. She opened it, stepped through onto the pub's veranda and took a couple of long deep breaths of fresh air, hoping that might calm her. Even this early in the morning it was warm, and gave every indication of a blisteringly hot day. Not that it mattered to Helen. She had hoped she would spend her day with Tia, but that obviously wasn't going to happen. It might help to walk off the tension that had her body as taught as a guitar string.

And maybe, if her steps led her towards the police station, she could find Max and talk to him. He was the one who had convinced Tia to contact her. Perhaps he could help her find a way to talk to Tia.

She walked down the stairs and stood looking from side to side. Which way should she go? She didn't want to risk bumping into Tia again until her daughter had cooled down a bit. Then her eyes were caught by the first sign of life on the street.

Opposite the pub, the door of the workshop beside the garage opened, and a man emerged. She knew him. In fact, she probably knew Ed Collins better than she knew anyone else in this town – including her daughter. She had certainly spent more time with him since her arrival yesterday.

She saw him turn towards her and give a quick wave in greeting. At first she was inclined to merely acknowledge him and turn away, but her battered soul suddenly cried out for human contact. If she couldn't be with her daughter, at least this man had no reason to hate her. Of course, she had no reason to believe he wanted to talk to her either. But he had been kind to her.

She raised a tentative hand, suddenly feeling quite shy.

‘Good morning!' His voice carried easily across the silent street.

‘Good morning,' she called back and set out in his direction. If he didn't seem to want company, she could always just ask directions to somewhere and walk away.

‘How are you? I hope you were comfortable at the pub.' His smile as she approached was as welcoming as his words.

‘Thank you, yes.'

‘You know, the pub was how the town started,' Ed continued. ‘This was the junction of two droving routes back before trucks and the railway. The bullock wagons used to stop here on their way to the stations with supplies. The pub was just a shack back then. But it's been the heart of the Creek ever since.'

‘You know a lot about the town,' Helen said.

‘I've been here a long time too.' Ed smiled. ‘The town has two parts. The old town – that's those of us who were here before the mine. Then there are the newcomers. They came when the mine opened. The town grew a lot then.'

‘And do the two sides get on all right?' she asked.

‘Oh yeah. There's a great community spirit here. There has to be. We are a long way from anywhere and we have to find our friendships and our fun right here. It's a bad place to have enemies, but it's a good place to find friends.'

As his words tailed off, Helen suddenly realised that he was deliberately distracting her. There was something about the tone of his voice and the look of sympathy in his eyes. He knew.

‘You saw Tia this morning.' It wasn't a question.

‘I get up early. And that Harley Hog of hers is pretty hard to miss.' He didn't sound apologetic, just concerned.

‘We started to have breakfast …' Helen couldn't go on. Her relationship with Tia was too complex for a stranger to understand. There were times she wanted to talk about it, hoping that speaking the words out loud would somehow put things into a better light. But how could she? Even back in Brisbane, she didn't have many friends. Work colleagues, but not friends. And she had long since excluded men from her life, because men had been part of the problem with her daughter.

‘Have you seen the creek? It's quite beautiful in its own way.'

Helen blinked. The creek? What was he talking about?

‘Why don't I show you, and then any time you need a walk or somewhere peaceful to sit and think, you can find your way.' Without waiting for her reply, he turned and began locking the door he had so recently opened.

They set out together. Ed led the way past what was obviously the local school, and along a dirt path towards a line of trees. He didn't ask her any questions. In fact, he didn't say anything at all. But somehow his presence was comforting as Helen took the time to bring her distressed emotions back under control.

At last they stepped under the shade of the trees. The ground sloped quite sharply to the water's edge. The creek didn't look deep, but the water was clear and reflected the blue sky above and the green of the overhanging branches. Ed jumped easily down a steep bit of bank and held out his hard. Without hesitation, Helen put her hand in his and let him help her down to near the water's edge, where a tree had fallen as if designed specifically to provide a seat for the likes of them.

Helen sat for several minutes, enjoying the respite from the heat and the unremitting flat, brown earth. She felt her tension begin to fade away. She cast a sideways glance at Ed. He was quite relaxed, chewing the end of a piece of grass and staring into the distance. It was so strange to find herself relaxing around this man she hardly knew. Most of the men in her life had been the source of stress and despair.

‘I have a son,' Ed said in a slow and gentle voice. ‘He lives in England. His name is Scott.'

Helen held her breath, a little afraid of what would come next. Ed seemed sympathetic and kind, but how could he possibly understand the hell she had suffered when her daughter left. He could never understand how it felt to not even know where your child was. If she was all right, or unhappy… or worse.

No one understood that … least of all Tia.

‘He ran away from home when he was seventeen. Or rather, I drove him away,' Ed's voice continued. He spoke slowly, his words thick with emotion. ‘He was looking for his mother, who had left us a few years before. But he was also running away from me. In all the years he was gone, I thought about him every day. But I didn't have the courage to try to find him; to admit my mistakes or tell him I loved him. Finally, he came looking for me. Seeing him again was the best day of my life. And the most terrifying. I was so afraid I would do something wrong and lose him again.'

Silence settled for a few moments. Ed seemed lost in his memories.

‘But we worked it out. That's not to say there weren't a few tough moments.' The corners of Ed's mouth curved into a smile. ‘We're both very alike. Pig-headed is a good word for the pair of us. But we got there. Some things are too important to not work out.'

How she wished she could believe him.

‘Where is he now?'

‘England. Restoring old cars.'

‘That's still a long way away.'

‘He fell in love with Katie, an English nurse who was working here. In fact, she helped us mend our bridges and I got my son back.'

‘You make it sound easy,' Helen said.

‘This is a small town. Everyone knows a lot about everyone else. I don't pry, but I know Tia has had a tough past. That's over now. She's a smart and very likeable young woman and you have Max to help you both. You'll sort things out. I'm sure of it.'

Helen looked at his brown, lined face. She saw strength there. Not the kind of strength that bullies had, but rather the strength that comes from a lifetime of experience. She found his words comforting.

‘And in the meantime,' Ed said, getting to his feet, ‘I'm around if you need a shoulder to cry on or a sympathetic ear. Or there's this place. I'm about the only one who comes here, but I'm happy to share it with you if you need to get away from Trish Warren and think. It's good for that. And if you're lucky, you might see the kingfishers that nest in that big gum over there. They are very pretty to watch diving for insects on the water.'

Helen smiled. ‘Ed. I'm a city girl. I wouldn't know what a kingfisher looked like.'

‘You'll know one if you see one,' he said. He stepped up the bank in one powerful stride and turned to face her. ‘Their wings are the same beautiful blue as your eyes.'

And he was gone.