Darkness Be My Friend (28 page)

Well, this guy didn't have any caviar and champagne but he did have a nice assortment of chips and bikkies and fresh bread, and lots of food that I didn't know and had never seen before. It was a weird time to be eating, with the sun just appearing, but that didn't
worry anyone. The only interruption was when Kevin paused between mouthfuls to say, "Good idea coming here, Ellie."

I made a face at him and kept eating.

We sussed out the backyard. It was well protected, lots of big trees to stop the neighbours peering over the fence. And in one tree, a nice old jacaranda, there was quite a big tree house. We made it our choice for a daytime hiding place. If the only people who came here were cleaning up after their mate they wouldn't bother checking that out.

I was feeling a bit better about myself. I knew—or, at least, I thought—that we wouldn't have made it this far without me. Just so long as there were no disasters while we were here. But now I really did them a favour. I volunteered to take the first sentry duty. Fi looked at me in disbelief, but no one waited around to see if I was serious. They grabbed pillows from a linen press in the hallway and headed out to the tree with their packs and sleeping bags. I settled myself in the entrance hall where I could see the street.

I actually did the unforgivable while I was there. I think—no, I know—that I went to sleep for a short time. Probably half an hour or even forty minutes. I was disgusted with myself when I woke; when Chris did the same thing once I went sick at him. For the rest of the morning I made myself get up and walk around every time I felt tired.

I wanted to give them as long as possible to sleep. I was really into martyrdom that day. Must have been Robyn's influence.

In the street the traffic flowed backwards and forwards. Wirrawee was a lot more alive again these days. Not the life I would have chosen for it, but in a strange way I almost preferred this to when it was dead and blacked out in the early stages of the war.

I didn't feel that there was any particular search in Wirrawee for us. There was no urgency about the traffic going past. Why would there be? They'd be searching the bush, and it'd be a full-on hunt there. But in town they had to get on with their other business, their normal business. There was no way in the world they'd expect us to come back here. And if they did we now had both the hand gun and the rifle.

By lunchtime I'd had enough. Even walking around didn't help. I knew it'd take half an hour to wake Homer but I had to do it. I toddled out to the tree, almost zigzagging in my weariness, and climbed to the tree house, one slow step at a time. I was right—it did take about half an hour to wake Homer, and even then he didn't want to move. But I just wouldn't let him go back to sleep. I couldn't. They say fatigue kills, and it sure was killing me. Once I'd evicted Homer from the tree house I slept till after sunset.

I woke around ten. There was some light from the house next door, not much, but enough to see that no one was left in the tree except Lee and me. He was asleep beside
me, breathing softly and quietly. But even in sleep his face looked troubled. Too many lines, too dark. He moved restlessly as I watched him. He drew his arm in closer to his body and turned a little.

I couldn't help leaning over and kissing him on the mouth. I think he woke instantly, because as I straightened up again I saw his eyes open. I didn't know my kisses were that powerful. He didn't smile, but neither did I. I was remembering the last time I kissed him. We just looked at each other for a while without blinking. When I kissed him again he put his arm around me and pulled me closer. After we kissed I rested my head on his chest. Glancing down I could see that my kisses were even more powerful than I'd realised.

I smiled and said, "I thought boys only woke up like that in the mornings."

"What?" he asked.

He hadn't heard me.

"Nothing," I said. I didn't even know if what I'd said was right and I didn't want to look ignorant. I was just going on what I'd picked up from jokes at school.

We kissed again, gradually getting more and more passionate. I felt so warm. Everything seemed to slow down and feel soft and close and private. There's nothing like the feeling of someone's hands on your skin. His hands were inside my shirt and I liked it a lot. I was rubbing the back of his neck. I was getting more and more excited. But I also realised, suddenly, a bit to my own surprise, that I didn't want to go all the way with him. I knew we were both heading fast into a zone where it might be difficult to stop. So when he slipped his hand
into my jeans I fished it out again. And reluctantly, hating it, I started drawing back, disentangling myself.

"What?" he asked, scowling at me. He reached out for me again.

"Sorry," I said, "I don't know why. I just don't want to. Not for a while."

"Now you tell me," he said, sulkily.

I buttoned myself up, already feeling the warmth go. My clothes weren't enough to keep it in.

"Sorry," I said again. "You looked so cute lying there. I couldn't help myself."

"Thanks for nothing," he said.

I was determined I wasn't going to get angry, so I ignored that. I didn't blame him in a way. If only I could have understood what was going on in my own mind ...but I found that difficult at the best of times. And this wasn't the best of times.

I put my boots on and went down the ladder. I was still wondering why I'd backed off like that. It was nothing to do with Lee. I still liked him a lot. I'd got over the feelings I'd had ages ago, the negative feelings towards him. So it wasn't that. I thought maybe it was something to do with the boy in New Zealand, whose name I realised with a shock I'd forgotten. It would come back to me, no doubt about that, but for the moment I couldn't think of it at all. And I thought it was probably also to do with the dead man whose house we had sneaked into—not that it was his house anyway—but the fact that we were living in a dead man's house.

And, of course, the fact that I'd killed him. I didn't know his name either. Weird: two guys who figured
prominently in my life, and they were both nameless to me.

Instead of going into the house right away I stood in the backyard for a few minutes thinking about all this. I saw Fi's shadow, briefly, through the kitchen window, but I was pleased there was no other evidence of people being in the place. We were getting pretty good at this stuff, hiding out, living rough and tough. It seemed a funny skill to be proud of, but it was a skill. I admired the fox his craftiness, the way he could get into the chookyard and out again, leaving nothing but blood behind. Blood and feathers and a few squawks from the chooks. We were getting more like foxes all the time.

That made me think of Lee again, for some reason. Why didn't I want to have him in me, to lie naked with him and do the things that excited us both so much?

A slow awareness came over me, a kind of burning, as I realised. Yes, it was because of the boy in New Zealand and the man who'd lived in this house. And because I'd screamed at the soldier in the street. And because I'd left the door open at Tozer's. And because the fuel tank had been padlocked. And because I'd sneezed. It was something like: "I don't deserve to enjoy the loving feelings of Lee embracing me and making love to me. I don't deserve that."

I still felt cheapened by what had happened at that Wellington party, and disgusted and horrified by the blood that had spread through the four-wheel drive. Blood shed by my finger on a rifle trigger. Blood from a man who one moment had been living and the next was dead because of my hands. I felt embarrassed and ashamed that I'd screamed at the soldier. I knew that
scream might have cost twelve New Zealanders their lives.

Not for the first time I wished I was back in Andrea's office, talking to someone who seemed to understand.

I saw Fi's shadow again through the kitchen window and felt another of those rushes of affection and admiration for her that I'd been feeling since I was about five years old. I thought, "At least I can talk to Fi."

Maybe one day I'd be able to talk to Lee about all this stuff. I hoped he'd understand. I felt like until we had that conversation our relationship would struggle. It was hard having any kind of relationship in the middle of a war. We'd both have to work at it.

I sighed and went inside. While I'd been getting Lee turned on, Fi had been turning on the electric stove. We knew we couldn't risk cooking anything that might give out a smell to alert the neighbours, but she had boiled some eggs. Hot food is one of the greatest luxuries in life, I think, and I ate three eggs without pausing. Then I grabbed some junk from the cupboards—dried seaweed and Twisties and a bit of cheese—and took over from Kevin in the entrance hall.

I spent three hours watching the stupid street. Nothing happened. There had been plenty of times doing sentry when I'd almost wished something would happen to break the boredom, but this wasn't one of them. I knew we weren't in any condition to cope with another crisis. But in the last hour of my shift Homer came out to talk to me, which was really nice. We seemed to talk so seldom these days. And for the first time I heard the story of what happened at the airfield.

Homer actually laughed when he started telling me
about it. "It was such a mess," he said. "I'm embarrassed. Or I would be if you guys had done any better. But the way Fi described your trip to the fuel depot, I'd say there's not much to pick between us. It wasn't too professional, compared to Cobbler's Bay, for example."

I wasn't yet at a point where I could laugh about the fuel depot. So I ignored Homer's comments.

"So tell me, tell me."

"Well, I think they've got some kind of super-duper security system there. Fair dinkum, I can't see how they could have busted us without some special gadget to do it. We were so bloody careful. We walked about fifty k's around the airfield with the packs, you know, to give it a wide berth so we wouldn't set off any alarms. Then after we dumped the packs we walked all the way back, being just as careful. We got up into the bush, still no problems. We had plenty of time—for a while we thought we were running late so we belted along pretty fast and ended up getting there early. So we chose the best spot, agreed the wind was good and coming from the right direction, and sat there with Lee's little can of fuel, telling ourselves that we were soon going to be heroes. Then the next thing we hear is this uproar from town—vehicles and guns, the whole bit, and we thought 'Bloody Ellie and Fi, causing trouble again. Can't leave them alone for five minutes.' But we also thought, 'Maybe we'd better bring our bonfire forward, cause a distraction for anyone having a go at you guys.' It took us about one and a half seconds to make that decision. Lee jumped up and started pouring the petrol and I got the matches, which I'd cleverly remembered to bring. And just as I'm ready to strike the match Kevin
says, 'Get a load of the soldiers.' And I look down at the airfield and there's three jeeps, all loaded with guys, screaming out of the main gate. I thought they'd turn right and go into town, to join the shooting party there, and that's what I was hoping, of course, because I'd rather they chased you than me, any day. But the next thing they turned left and came straight up the road towards us. Kevin yelled, 'They're coming after us!' and I thought, 'He's right.' I struck the match, chucked it on the ground and we all took off. There was a good little whoosh behind us and I thought, 'Beauty, it's caught, should go well with this breeze,' but I didn't look back. There wasn't time. I could hear the jeeps coming flat-chat up the hill, and there were a couple of shots just as we went over the ridge. It was all action, I promise you."

"How long had you been up there before the jeeps came out of the gate?" I asked.

"About five minutes. That's the weird thing. It's like they knew we were there. We thought you guys must have dobbed us in."

I sure must have been tired, because I looked so horrified that Homer had to quickly add: "Just kidding."

"Oh, right, OK. So how do you think they knew?"

"Well, like I said, I think they've got some gadget. Maybe radar or something. I didn't know. But that could explain what happened to the Kiwis. Because when I was talking to Iain, he never thought there'd be any problems like that. He thought it'd be a bit of a snack actually."

"Yeah, I got that impression." Privately I was feeling enormous relief. Maybe I hadn't sabotaged the Kiwis after all. "So what did you do then?"

"Circled around, yet again. I got to know that patch of bush pretty well, I tell you. We came back over the ridge about three-quarters of a k along. Mainly we wanted to enjoy the sight of the fire roaring down onto the airfield and the planes bursting into flames before they could get off the ground."

"But...?"

"Exactly. But. The bloody fire was completely out. We could see a few red bits smouldering, but no flame at all. And the worst thing was I don't think the soldiers even had to put it out. I think it just didn't catch in the first place. Wouldn't it wreck you? At home, you're desperate never to start a bushfire and every time you turn around you've set off another one."

This was only a slight exaggeration because to my certain knowledge Homer, as a little boy, had started at least three fires. But I held my tongue and he went on.

"So here we were doing our best to start one, even using petrol, and we get absolutely nowhere. It's like the song says: 'Isn't it ironic?'"

I grinned. Didn't matter what mood I was in, Homer could always make me laugh. It occurred to me that maybe that was why he'd come into the entrance hall, because he sensed that I was depressed and needed cheering up. It wouldn't be the first time. I hated to accuse Homer of being a warm sensitive guy, but deep down inside he did have a trace of it at times.

Only a little trace mind you.

"So what happened then?" I asked.

"Well, we hadn't realised that the soldiers were spreading through the bush. And fast. These guys were professionals. I suppose they'd have their crack troops
guarding the airfield. Suddenly one of them popped up about fifty metres away. We saw him before he saw us, which was fairly lucky. We just turned and sprinted. Wc were into the trees before he started firing but a couple of bullets went so close to me." He shivered. "I reckon I could have put my hand out and caught one of them. What do they call that in Australian Rules, a mark or something?"