There was another crack from the rifle. More glass sprayed from the back window
‘You all right, Katherine?’
She didn’t answer. Petri stole a sideways glance at Katherine. She was bent forward, huddled over the children.
He glanced again in his rear-view mirror. Behind him he saw Karl’s vehicle swing around the corner. Then it went into the same dry skid on the loose gravel road that had affected his. The dogger lunged for the wheel, dropping the rifle and desperately tried to control his vehicle. The overloaded vehicle swayed wildly, skidded sideways then rolled. Over and over and over. Boxes flew from the tray as the constraining ropes snapped. Clouds of dust emerged from the chaos of scattered boxes and twisted metal crashing into the road.
Petri braked hard, almost skidding into the side of the road. ‘He’s crashed, Katherine! The bloody idiot has crashed!’
Katherine remained silent. As he slowed his vehicle to a halt Petri looked at her. Then he saw it. A blotch of blood at the back of her head had spread over her ash blonde hair. Her eyes were wide open, still looking at her children crouched on the floor.
‘No. Katherine! No, no!’
Her head lolled to one side as Petri pulled her into an upright position.
Carolyn suddenly burst into tears. Isaac stared, wide-eyed.
Petri shook uncontrollably as he got out of the vehicle. He lifted Carolyn and Isaac through the passenger door and hugged them, not attempting to stem the flooding tears. Looking back at Karl’s overturned vehicle he saw no sign of life. The still spinning wheels and the settling dust blowing gently in the morning breeze provided the only signs of movement.
He looked at the two children. They were dirty, their cheeks stained with tears. He quietly told Carolyn, ‘You wait here with your little brother, sweetheart. I’m just going to chase away the bad man so he won’t worry us any more.’
The dogger had been thrown from the vehicle as it rolled. The driver’s door had been ripped off. Karl’s body lay some distance away from the wrecked utility. The contorted position of his limbs and the odd angle of his head indicated very severe injuries. There was no sign of the gun.
Petri went to the side of the road and was violently sick before returning to his Toyota. He gently closed Katherine’s eyes and picked up the radio.
‘Sierra November Bravo. Calling Kalgoorlie base. Mayday.
Mayday.’
* * *
Alec stood at the graveside. Carolyn stood beside him, holding his hand. Petri and Shelley stood on either side.
The events of the past few weeks made Alec realise that Katherine was the only woman he had loved; loved with his heart, soul and very being. Without her his life, his research, his attempts at new relationships all meant nothing.
The minister’s voice seemed distant as it monotonously read through the service.
Alec’s mind drifted back to that night, so many years ago. He could not forget how beautiful she looked, her long hair spread over the pillow in their campervan. Their love had been so tender, so passionate. In the empty desert, only the distant howl of a lonely dingo calling disconsolately for his mate, just the two of them and little baby Carolyn.
He looked down at Carolyn. She looked so like his wife, a permanent reminder of all that was lost.
T he wedding was brilliant, with family and friends coming from all over the country. Adelaide was not only central for guests coming from all the states in Australia, but was also where the bride had been born. She was radiant in her ivory silk and taffeta wedding dress. Her father, who always refused to wear a tuxedo, wore his standard lounge suit. He walked down the aisle beside her, as proud as any father could be. He approved of his future son-in-law. After all, he was a geologist and teaching at the University as a Junior Lecturer. It seemed that his family was destined to be either preachers or teachers.
After the informal civil ceremony in the grounds of Collingrove Homestead, a string trio played classical music on the wide veranda. Guests chatted and mingled in the surrounding gardens. The reception provided a rare opportunity for Alec to catch up on news of his old friends face-to-face.
Petri and Shelley sat at a table conversing with some of the bride’s young friends. Alec crossed the lawn and approached them.
‘Well, it’s so good to see you both again.’ Alec sat down next to Petri.
‘“See” is the operative word, hey. Letters and phone calls are all very well but it’s nice to see how you are. A bit of grey coming through.’ He playfully ruffled Alec’s unruly hair. ‘How’s things going?’
‘Pretty busy. Life at Uni isn’t what it used to be. It’s all ‘user pays’ these days.’
‘Sounds tough.’
‘Teaching staff is working its butt off. Day and night lectures, overcrowded lecture rooms. I’ve very little time for pure research these days. So much for the ‘clever country.’ Alec realised he sounded like a stuck record of complaints and hadn’t asked after his friends. ‘Sorry. How’s it going with you lot?’
‘I’ve also been busy. But lately the number of contracts has fallen away sharply. I’ve been doing some contract work in Indonesia. Gold exploration is picking up there.’
Shelley tried to change the subject. ‘Doesn’t Carolyn look stunning? Clever girl too. I hear she got her Honours degree at this year’s graduation. She has turned out well in spite of everything, hasn’t she? You must be very proud of her.’
Alec looked at his daughter bride as she mingled amongst the guests. She had much of her mother in her, including the blue eyes and ash-blonde hair.
‘Yes, I am, very proud. Not only Honours but First Class Honours, only one in the class.’
‘She’s done really well,’ echoed Petri.
Alec continued. ‘It’s hard for me to realise she is now a married woman. The years have flown.’
The three watched the bride for a moment. Then Shelley asked, ‘What about you, Alec? Never found anyone to take your heart in the last decade or so?’ It was a genuine and caring question. She still retained a soft spot for the man she almost married.
He smiled. It was a question that didn’t need an answer.
The string trio on the veranda struck up a tune.
‘Ah, Mozart,’ said Petri.
‘But do you know which?’ asked Shelley.
Petri cocked his head towards the group of musicians. ‘Mmm. It sounds like one of the movements from his Serenade in D, ‘Haffner.’ Am I right?’
Shelley patted his leg. ‘Spot on, genius. It’s one of the Menuettos. Not sure which though.’
Alec looked at his two friends. A more suited pair he couldn’t imagine. ‘I see it’s almost time for speeches. Carolyn is calling me over. Excuse me, see you later.’ Alec stood up, smiled at his friends and walked over to his daughter who was standing next Isaac.
The trio played on.
Author’s note
According to the Australian Federal Police, each year in Australia some 30,000 people are reported missing. Of these, 90% are found within 48 hours. About 1%, approximately 300 people, remain permanently ‘lost’. Their families and relatives live in constant hope, pushing away the possibility that they may never see their loved ones again. Nearly all say they would rather know, even the worst, than live forever with uncertainty.
Alan Moore, Vanishing Point
(Series: # )
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