Chapter 16
16
Hamish
‘I thought you were all about clearing out the place to sell it and here you are bringing in boxes. What gives?’
From where he stood at the tailgate of his ute, Hamish glanced over his shoulder to see Zach Cooper walking through the gate towards him. He was in uniform and the police vehicle was parked on the opposite side of the street.
‘Ah, Sergeant Cooper,’ Hamish said. ‘A slight change of plans, you could say. I’ve sold my apartment in North Adelaide and I need somewhere to store my possessions until I find another place to live. At this stage, I’ve got no idea where that might be and here’s as good a place as any.’
‘Plenty of storage units in Adelaide, I would have thought. That’s a lot of books you’ve got there.’
‘I like to read and do you know how much they charge for those storage units?’ Hamish set down the box of books he’d been unloading. ‘And from the few enquiries I’ve made locally, real estate doesn’t move particularly fast in Cutlers Bay, so I think I’m pretty safe storing stuff here.’
Zach nodded, rasping a hand along his jaw. ‘If the town was actually on the beach and not at the top of a windy cliff, things would be different, I dare say.’
Hamish folded his arms and regarded the policeman. ‘So what can I do for you?’ he said. ‘You didn’t stop by to chat about local real estate and the location of the town.’
Zach smiled and shoved his hands in his pockets. ‘About a week ago, I was having a quiet beer at the pub and my ears pricked up when I heard a bloke mention your old man’s name.’
Hamish frowned. ‘And?’
‘Turns out it was to do with his car, the Commodore.’ Zach scanned the front yard and the garage. ‘Everything where it should be? No sign of anyone poking around uninvited?’
Hamish’s frown deepened. ‘Not that I’ve noticed, but I haven’t been here long and I can’t say I’ve looked around the whole yard.’
‘Did you check that the vehicle was in the shed?’
‘No,’ Hamish said, already on the move towards the garage. It was a galvanised iron structure with room for two cars and sliding doors at the front. The padlock had been firmly in place when he’d been here after Christmas. And it still was. For a moment, Hamish couldn’t decide whether to feel relief or disappointment. If the car had been stolen there wouldn’t be the need to offload it; it was a constant and grisly reminder of how his father had chosen to end his life. Hamish had had a brief conversation with the executors and their advice had been that if he came up with a local buyer to let them know.
‘Padlock’s all good,’ Hamish called out to Zach.
The policeman had swiped off the dust from the louvred window at the side of the garage and was peering in. ‘Car’s still there,’ he said. He straightened up and dusted off his hands.
‘Maybe the bloke you heard talking wants to buy it. I could forward his details to the solicitors.’
Zach gave a mirthless laugh. ‘No, mate. He doesn’t have a driver’s licence and he wouldn’t have two bob to his name, that’s why I was so intrigued when I heard him talking about the vehicle.’
‘Pity,’ Hamish said.
Zach nodded. ‘You around for long?’
‘Thought I might stay tonight and then see how I feel in the morning. Decide whether I stay for the weekend.’
‘I’d say let’s have a beer, but I’m getting married tomorrow,’ Zach said and grinned.
‘Congratulations.’
‘Three years it’s taken me to talk her into it. And if it wasn’t for our daughter, Lily, I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t be walking down the aisle now, nor ever.’
‘Good for you,’ Hamish said. He was a tad envious. Not because he wanted to get married again, but because Zach was getting married and he looked over the moon about it. Hamish couldn’t bring to mind the last time he’d been over the moon about anything. It certainly hadn’t been when he’d married Andrea. Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember how he’d felt then—if he’d felt anything. Why had he married her?
‘Yeah, it’s gonna be a blast,’ Zach said, still grinning. ‘All my family’s coming. Angie’s mother can’t make it but her brother flies in from Port Hedland today and she’s gone to pick him up. I’ve never met the bloke but he sounds all right.’ Zach laughed. ‘Listen to me, will ya? Back to business: Like I said to you earlier, put a quiet word out at the pub and I reckon you’d find yourself a ridgy-didge buyer for the vehicle in no time at all.’
‘I’ll give it a go. I see there’s a community notice board down the main street. Could put something up there … but I’ll wait until I’m going to be around the place for a few days. Best of luck tomorrow. Hope the day goes well.’
‘Thanks, it will, and we’ll have that beer sometime.’
‘For sure,’ Hamish said.
After Zach had driven off, Hamish went back to unloading the last few boxes and stacking them in the second bedroom, the room he’d been sleeping in. There was only a single bed and he’d shoved the wardrobe and chest of drawers to one side to free up a wall to stack the boxes against. Even as he worked, he wondered at the wisdom of bringing his belongings here. He hadn’t mentioned it to his sister. She was sure to have plenty to say because he hadn’t consulted her first. Hamish couldn’t put a finger on why he hadn’t the same compulsion to be rid of their parents’ home as Natalie did. But then her motivation was simple: she wanted her share of the money. His motive for holding back? He hadn’t fully considered what that might be, but it could have something to do with his feeling of being untethered. More so since the apartment had sold, even though the longer he’d lived there, the more he’d felt his post-retirement existence was a sham. But at least living there he had the pretence of a life and he wouldn’t even have that for much longer. In a way, his parents’ house provided a prop of sorts; something to anchor himself to until he decided where he wanted to be. Who he wanted to be.
Hamish’s initial intention had been to unload and stay for the night and sort through more of his parents’ paraphernalia. Maybe drop a few bags off at the op shop and fill up the wheelie bin with rubbish ready for the next collection. But by the time he’d unloaded, all he wanted to do was turn around and go home, even if that home didn’t quite belong to him anymore. This fickleness of purpose was so unlike him. So much of how he was feeling of late was out of character.
He didn’t dwell, instead he locked up, turned off the power and replaced the key under the pot.
He drove to Rosie’s Cafe. It wasn’t quite four and he’d skipped lunch. A takeaway coffee and something to eat was necessary before he made the long journey back to Adelaide.
Ruth was at the counter and she looked up when he walked in.
‘Hamish,’ she said and her face lit up with a smile. ‘What brings you back to town?’
Her smile was catching and it briefly lifted his mood. ‘Quick turnaround is all. Wanted to pick up any mail and check everything was ship-shape at the house.’
‘Coffee?’
‘To go, if you don’t mind. Make it a long black. And something to eat. I missed lunch.’
‘A sandwich? The fryer and grill are off but the bread’s fresh.’
‘Whatever’s going.’
She went to the kitchen. While he waited, he looked around the cafe. Several women sat at a table by the window, deep in conversation. An older gentleman drank tea and read the newspaper. Hamish suddenly understood why his father had become a regular here: there was a welcoming feel about the space, a homely atmosphere. Towards the end, his father’s twice-weekly visits here would have been the full extent of his socialising. A lump grew in Hamish’s throat and wouldn’t be swallowed away.
No sooner had he wished that Ruth would hurry up so he could get out of there did she appear with a bulging brown paper bag.
‘I hope you like roast beef,’ she said and then she stilled. Their eyes met across the counter and he knew she read the grief and confusion in his face for what it was. ‘I’ll make your coffee. And what about a sweet treat for afters?’
‘Thanks,’ he said and the lump in his throat loosened.
She made the coffee and slipped a piece of pecan pie into another paper bag, along with a paper serviette. ‘It’s nicer warmed with ice cream,’ she said and wrinkled her nose. ‘But pretty good without, even if I say so myself.’
Hamish was on the road minutes later. The sandwich was delicious, the perfect amount of filling that didn’t spew everywhere when he held it in one hand. Ruth was right, the pecan pie was excellent. And of course the coffee was up to her usual standard.
* * *
Hamish was tired in body and spirit when he let himself into the apartment almost three hours later. The traffic had been horrendous, even for a Friday evening. Everyone in a hurry, no-one giving an inch. The day had been hot and the apartment was warm and stuffy. He opened the balcony doors and turned on the overhead fans, went to the fridge for a beer and sat down to watch the ABC News.
Nat rang just as the weather came on. He cursed but took the call.
‘What’s happening?’ she said.
‘Not much.’
‘Is there something you want to tell me?’
‘Like what?’
‘Like your apartment being for sale?’
‘Pete knows.’
‘Yeah, but you could have told me.’
‘Not a secret, Nat. I just didn’t think you’d be interested.’ No response from her end so Hamish continued, ‘We’ve never exactly shared the goings-on in our lives, have we?’
‘No,’ she said, bluntly. ‘And now we have no parents to keep each other in the loop.’
Hamish had never considered it that way but their mother and to a lesser extent their father had always filled him in on any significant happenings in Nat’s life. Did this mean he’d need to communicate with her more often in the future? Or would they drift apart even further until they’d lost touch altogether?
‘So what are you going to do when the apartment sells? Where will you live?’
‘Er, I don’t really know,’ he said, disconcerted by where his thoughts had taken him. ‘I have considered going back to work.’ Why he didn’t tell her that the apartment was under contract, he couldn’t explain, nor that he hadn’t a clue what he was going to do. He just didn’t. Habits of a lifetime weren’t that easily broken. When the sale settles , he told himself, I’ll tell her then .
‘Why go back to work? It’s not as if you need the money.’
‘Work’s not only about the money, Nat.’
She laughed, a harsh, bitter sound that made him wince. ‘That’s a good one,’ she said. ‘When are you going to Dad’s next?’
‘I went today, as a matter of fact. Everything appeared to be in order.’ He didn’t mention the car or the conversation he’d had with the local copper.
‘You could have told me you were going. The property’s half mine.’
‘Spur of the moment decision. Woke up this morning and felt like a drive out.’ Not really a lie, but not the complete truth either. Definitely a pattern here … He’d have to think about that some more.
‘We need to give those solicitors a hurry on to get the house on the market, Hamish. Houses deteriorate rapidly if they’re not lived in.’
Hamish put his empty beer can on the coffee table. He toyed with the idea of having another and decided not to. Easier to stop at one. ‘The place needs a significant amount of tidying up before it goes on the market. The garden, if you can call it that anymore, is a mess. The woodwork needs a coat of paint. And there’s a heap of stuff left to clear out.’
Nat cleared her throat. ‘I can’t take any holidays just now.’
‘No-one’s asking you to. I don’t mind doing it, but it’ll be at my pace. I’ve done most of Dad’s clothes but that’s all. Did you want any of the furniture? Kitchen stuff? Sheets? Towels? Knick-knacks? Does Pete want Dad’s fishing gear?’
‘I don’t know, not without asking him. Maybe Pete and I should drive over and have a look. Soon.’
‘Maybe you should, after all, it’s half yours. Let me know when you do decide to drive over and I’ll make sure I’m there. Might be best if we go through the contents together, then there’ll be no misunderstandings. Not that I need any of the household stuff, but there are books and lots of other things.’
‘I suppose that’s reasonable. I’ll talk to Pete, let you know what we decide.’
‘Fair enough. That it?’
Nat grunted with what he took to be a yes—and a goodbye, as it turned out, because she’d already hung up. Had he just had a reasonably civil conversation with his sister? Perhaps there was a chance that their relationship could take a turn for the better.
He sat and pondered many things until the sun had well and truly set and the only light in the living area was that cast by the flickering, muted television. Disappointingly, his musings did not bring forth the epiphany he was hoping for.
When he showered and went to bed he was no closer to knowing what his next move could or should be. Hamish had no memory of ever feeling as bereft as he did right then.
Blessedly, he slept.