“Ma calls it the sheugh. That ditch. Did you go in it?”
“Yes, but we’re OK now,” Heather said.
“Your airbags went off,” Matt said.
“They did,” Heather said. “Car is so sensitive—we weren’t even going fast…anyway, we’re fine, thank you for stopping. We better go if we’re going to catch the ferry,” Heather said.
“Is your husband OK? You OK, mate? You look like shit. You hit your head?” Matt asked.
“I’m fine,” Tom said.
“What about the kiddies?”
“They’re fine. Everyone is fine. We just better go get that ferry.”
“Yeah, you should go,” Matt agreed.
“We will. Thank you.”
“You didn’t see Ellen by any chance? A girl on a bike?” Jacko asked.
“No,” Tom said quickly.
“We didn’t see anyone,” Heather added. “Well, I guess we better go. Bye.”
She wound the window up and waved and began driving down the road.
In the rearview she saw Jacko and Matt sit in the car for a moment before Matt opened the door and got out.
She saw him get down on one knee and begin looking at the ground before she lost sight of him at the bend in the road.
“Shit,” Heather muttered and hit the gas pedal hard. “Seat belts, everyone!” she called and drove the Porsche at seventy miles an hour in the direction of the ferry pier.
They reached the ferry terminal in two minutes, and fortunately the ferry was there.
She slowed the Porsche and fixed a smile on her face.
“No one say anything, OK?” she said, looking at Tom and then turning around to the kids. “No one say anything. We’ll sort this out when we’re over the water.”
She waved to Ivan, pulled the car to a stop, and wound the window down as he came over.
“Hi there!” she said.
“You see a koala or two?” Ivan asked, leaning into the car window. It was then that Heather noticed he had a black-and-yellow object attached to his overalls. It was a walkie-talkie.
“Oh, yes,” Heather assured him.
Ivan picked his nose and sighed. “So you’re going to drive onto the ferry? Not your husband?”
“I’ll drive. He’s a bit tired.”
“You know, I can do it if you want. Never driven a Porsche before,” Ivan said.
Heather took a quick look at the blood all over the steering wheel. “No, I’m happy driving it on if you’ll guide me,” she said with a winning smile.
“Course I’ll guide you, missy. No worries. Take a little spill, did you? I see the airbags went off.”
“Not really—we just went into a ditch. The airbags are so sensitive. The rental guy warned us about it,” Heather said.
“Modern cars! Drove me old Holden Sandman thirty years, never had a problem. Kids get pics near the koalas?”
“Um, yes,” Heather said, hoping Ivan wouldn’t ask to see them.
“Evil little bastards. They can give you a nasty scratch. The koalas, I mean, not your kids! All right, I’ll put the ramp down and you just drive on slowly. Come to a full stop and put your hand brake on. What you Yanks call the emergency brake. It’s right next to your seat.”
Ivan lowered the ramp and she drove onto the ferry.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Ivan said.
“Not at all.”
Heather turned the engine off. Ivan put his hands into his pockets and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He lit one.
He didn’t seem to be in any particular hurry to get going.
“Um, look, could we go over now?” Heather asked.
Ivan shook his head. “I’d just as soon wait. That Dutch couple should be along any minute. I told them to be sharpish.”
“Matt said you’d take us over now,” Heather said.
“Matt? He gets a bit big for his boots sometimes. He’s not even an O’Neill. He’s a Watson. This is my ferry and I decide when we bloody go.”
“We’re sort of rushing to get back to Melbourne. We have a dinner reservation.”
Ivan grunted and put his hands on his pockets. “I’d have to make two trips…”
Heather reached into her jeans pocket, pulled out a fifty-dollar bill, and examined it to make sure there was no blood on it.
“That would be a big hassle for you. Perhaps if I made it worth your while?” she asked, holding the bill out the window.
Ivan grinned and snatched it. “Let’s get going.”
He raised the ramp and closed the gate at the back of the ferry.
Heather looked behind her to see if she could spot any other cars coming down the road.
So far, so good.
Ivan unhooked the ropes that attached the ferry to the shore and jumped back onto the boat. He started the diesel engine.
“Should we tell him about the woman?” Olivia asked.
“No one says anything until we’re on the other side,” Heather hissed.
“Mainland Australia, here we come!” Ivan announced. “You can get out of the car if you want.”
“We’re OK,” Heather replied.
A white wake boiled behind the ferry, and Dutch Island slowly began to recede into the distance.
Heather found that she had been holding her breath.
Ivan walked up to the car window.
“Anyone tell you about the foxes? Me and Kate have been trapping the little bastards. Invasive species. Kate’s got quite the collection of skulls. They pay us for them. The state.”
“We didn’t see any foxes,” Heather said, putting her hand over the blood on the steering wheel.
“All right. Well, look, if I see any sharks I’ll let you know and you can take a pic,” Ivan said and went back to the tiller.
“I think we—” Tom began and stopped as Ivan snapped the walkie-talkie off his lapel.
“What?” Ivan was saying. “I can’t hear you. I can’t bloody hear you.”
He put the diesel engine into idle. He banged the walkie-talkie and fiddled with its dial. “I can’t hear you, mate,” he said.
Heather’s knuckles were white as she gripped the Porsche’s steering wheel. Sweat drenched the back of her T-shirt. She knew she looked like shit. Police-lineup-guilty.
“Maybe we should—” Tom began.
“No,” Heather said.
“I think I got you, mate!” Ivan said. “Speak up.”
Ivan walked to the back of the ferry and had a conversation on the walkie-talkie that Heather couldn’t hear.
She didn’t like this at all. She took out her phone and thumb-typed Help to Carolyn, the last person she had texted.
Unable to send. No wireless signal, the report came back.
Ivan clipped the radio back onto his lapel.
He picked up a sports bag, unzipped it, and removed an object.
Heather leaned over the steering wheel to see what it was.
“What’s he doing?” Olivia asked.
“I don’t know.”
Ivan walked slowly back to the driver’s-side window. He pointed an ancient-looking revolver at Heather’s face. “Hand me all your phones and then get out of the car nice and slow-like. If you do any monkey business, anything at all, I’ll shoot one of the kiddies. Do you understand me?”
6
The Toyota Hilux was waiting for them at the Dutch Island dock. They were bundled into the back by a fierce blond woman with a pump-action shotgun.
This, they learned, was Kate, the youngest of Ma’s children.