Chapter 28
CHAPTER
It was good to be back in Tamworth. Ben felt at home here, and not only because he and Justin had an actual house and their own bedrooms. At the RFS station, Ben was surrounded by friends and colleagues.
People he knew and who knew him. If they went to the pub at night, he didn’t have to show off, drink a lot and try to convince them he was as good as his brother.
He didn’t have to watch Justin turn his back because of some woman.
And he didn’t have to live each minute in fear that their mother would suddenly appear and expect something of him.
He had nothing to give her. Now that he was home, and in the cold hard light of day, he knew he was being irrational and stupid.
But that didn’t make it any different. Too much time had passed and there was no going back.
He was sorting gear on one of the trucks behind the station when he heard a call from inside. He wandered into the building to be greeted by a wolf whistle.
‘Here he is. The cover boy himself.’ One of the guys swaggered across the room, swaying his hips like Marilyn Monroe.
‘Oh, can I have your autograph please?’
‘Catch me, I’m coming over all faint,’ added another, swooning comically with a hand raised to his forehead.
‘What’s going on?’
‘This just came.’ Justin appeared next to him and handed him a large brown envelope that was already open. ‘There’s one for each of us and apparently it’s already in the shops.’
Ben slid the glossy calendar out of the envelope and stared down at the cover image. It was quite something.
‘Sorry, big brother,’ he said with a smirk. ‘I didn’t mean to make you look so ordinary.’
Amid the laughter of their colleagues, Justin threw his arms around Ben’s shoulders and the two of them wrestled for a couple of minutes before breaking apart.
They wandered into the kitchen, where a new pot of coffee was being made.
Suitably equipped with caffeine, Ben sat at the table to take a closer look at the calendar.
It felt a bit strange to think people all over the state, maybe all over the country, would be looking at one—no, two—pictures of him, shirtless.
As well as the cover image that featured both twins, each had their own month.
Ben was Mr July and Justin was November’s feature image.
The rest of the year was filled with men from other bases; Ben had met a couple of them at joint operations.
The station alarm sounded and Ben was on his feet in a second. He dropped the calendar on the table and walked to the waiting truck. He was needed somewhere. That was more important than anything else.
At the end of the day, a small shed fire easily extinguished, Ben drove into the centre of Tamworth to pick up some things he needed.
As he walked past a gift shop, two girls came out.
He guessed they were about twenty and they were pretty.
He smiled at them and they smiled back. As he walked on, he heard a sudden exclamation behind him.
‘OMG! It’s one of them. From the calendar.’ There was an explosion of giggles.
‘I wonder which one it is.’
He turned to look at them and winked. As he continued on his way, more giggles followed him.
Not every case of mistaken identity had ended like that.
The older he and Justin had become, the easier people seemed to find it to tell them apart.
Something in their faces, maybe. Or the way they spoke or moved.
Back at school, no one had really known who was who.
He’d taken advantage of that so many times.
Pretended he was Justin to join a cricket or football game.
Once or twice, to kiss a girl. But eventually, he was always found out.
He was the younger brother … the lesser brother.
If only they hadn’t been in the same class.
He might have made it on his own. Had his own friends.
Kissed those girls as himself, instead of pretending to be someone else.
But his mother’s lie had ensured he had grown up as the second Turner twin.
The other, less important one. The younger brother who simply followed where Justin led.
And that habit, once developed, had never been lost. He still did it to this day.
***
Justin beat his brother home at the end of the day.
He’d been out of the station most of the afternoon, talking to the owners of the shed that had burned and giving them advice on how to avoid a reoccurrence; when it was the middle of the fire season, and this hot and dry, even a small shed fire was enough to start something that threatened everyone.
From there, he’d driven straight home. When he walked inside, he dropped his copy of the calendar on the bookshelf.
As he looked at it, he wondered if Anna had seen it.
If they’d sent each of the models a copy, then surely she should have received one as well?
Bree was certain to have received one. Maybe she’d shown it to Anna.
He wondered what she thought as she looked at that cover.
And hard on the heels of that, he wondered if she had been thinking about him at all since he left.
He had certainly been thinking about her.
There was one way to find out. He reached for his phone and, aware that Ben might be home any minute, he walked through the kitchen and out onto the back patio. Traditionally, that was where either brother went when privacy was required.
He flicked through his contacts and chose a number.
The phone rang once. Twice. On the third ring, he was composing a message when a familiar voice answered.
‘Hello? Justin?’
His heart did that crazy thing it did each time he saw her or even heard her voice. ‘Hi, Anna. How’s things?’
‘Fine. Still dry. We could really use some rain. It’s good to hear from you.’
His heart was still doing that thing. ‘A copy of the RFS calendar arrived in the mail today. Did you get one?’
‘Bree brought one over for me.’
‘What did you think?’
There was a long silence. He waited, feeling not unlike a teenager with his first crush.
‘Justin, are you fishing for compliments?’
He laughed in an explosion of the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. ‘Maybe.’
Anna chuckled, a simple, warm sound that wrapped around him and drifted away, leaving him feeling happy in its wake.
‘They’ve used a few different studs and fire stations,’ Anna noted. ‘The photos are very good.’
‘And …’
‘There are some very nice-looking men in the RFS.’
‘And we made the cover.’ Even to himself, Justin sounded like he was boasting.
‘Which is why I’m not going to tell you how great you look. You know that already.’
It was his turn to chuckle. ‘I was wondering …’
‘Yes?’
The teenager was back, about to ask his crush for a third date, despite the fact that the first two had both crashed and burned. ‘I heard the Wagtail Ridge fundraising dance is coming up soon.’
‘It’s about this time every year. I don’t go.’
His heart sank. ‘Why not?’
‘I’ve only been in town three years. And the first year, well, I’d just arrived and didn’t know anyone. The year after that, I thought about going, but had patients to look after.’
‘And this year?’
‘Well …’
‘Anna …’ Running into a bushfire was easier than this. ‘Would you like to go to the dance? With me?’
Silence at the other end of the phone.
‘I know taking you to that place for dinner was thoughtless of me. And you know I’m sorry about that. But this is the town dance. Your town dance and—’
‘Yes.’
‘Yes?’
‘Yes.’
Justin’s spirits lifted. ‘That’s great. I’ll pick you up at your place.’
‘It’s a long way to come. You probably won’t want to drive back afterwards.’ The tone of her voice was hesitant. Not an invitation. But also not ruling out the possibility of one.
‘Probably not. But I can always camp at the station.’
‘Hopefully we can do better than that.’
Again. Not an invitation. She might mean the pub.
And he would be happy with that. This was a start and he was quickly coming to realise it meant more to him than just a casual date to the town dance.
His heart was pounding as if he’d run a kilometre in full kit.
And he could feel the stupid grin that was all over his face.
They talked for another couple of minutes before Anna ended the call, saying she had a patient to tend to. Justin slipped his phone back in his pocket. As he did, his brother appeared in the doorway.
‘Fancy a beer?’
‘As a matter of fact, I do.’
Ben stepped through the doors onto the patio, a can of beer in each hand. The brothers settled into chairs, sipping the cold liquid as they looked out at the view from the small rise where their house sat.
‘I’m going back to Wagtail Ridge for the town dance,’ Justin said. ‘What about you?’
‘Nope.’ Ben’s voice was most definite.
‘Why not? There’s good people there. They made us welcome. The dance is a fundraiser. We could pay back a little.’
‘I know. But I don’t want to play third wheel between you and Anna.’
‘You wouldn’t be—’
‘Nor do I want to run into that woman.’
Justin understood. That was the real reason. ‘She might not be there. And even if she is, you don’t have to talk to her.’
‘Nope.’
Justin shook his head. ‘Don’t you think it’s time you got over that?’
‘You know, big brother, I thought about it. I tried. But the reality is, I’ve lived all these years without her.
I don’t need her. And to be honest, I don’t trust her.
Every time I looked at her, I’d be reminded of the way she treated us.
Reminded that she lied to me for seventeen years.
Now, if you want to see her, that’s your choice.
Just don’t ask me to. I’m doing fine without her. ’ He took a deep pull on his beer.
Justin wasn’t so sure about that. Ben had gone back to his old self as soon as they’d left the Ridge; his drinking was under control and he was no longer behaving like a kid on the verge of a temper tantrum.
Good as that was, it did suggest Ben had real issues to deal with.
He had to sort those issues out himself, although Justin would help if he could.
‘Fine. Well, I’ll be going. It’s a long drive, so I’ll stay overnight.’ Justin felt, rather than saw, the sideways glance and raised eyebrows Ben sent in his direction.
‘Say hi to people for me.’
Justin didn’t answer.
The two sat gazing out over the dry landscape.
There was no green in the grass and even the gum trees looked wilted and thirsty.
Their place overlooked a park, but it was brown, much of the earth bare.
A brief, strong, willy-willy stirred, the dust rising metres into the air before the wind dropped and the dust drifted back to earth.
In the distance, huge thunderheads reared into the sky, edged with silver but dark and foreboding in the middle. The clouds were moving closer.
‘Storm coming,’ Ben said.
Justin didn’t need to reply. They both knew the storm meant one of two things. It might bring some much-needed rain. But maybe those clouds held nothing but thunder and lightning. The biggest cause of bushfires was lightning strikes. They might be busy in the days ahead.
Both men took another drink.