The Lightkeeper's Wife - By Karen Viggers Page 0,99
have done it months ago.’
They sat quietly together for a long time, watching the shadows slipping on the walls. Now that the unsayable had been said, there was a strangely uplifting peace between them.
23
We drive home from Freycinet on a Saturday afternoon full of sun and blue skies and with a warm glow that started at the campfire and extended into everything we’ve done since. This morning, before our departure, we walked to Wineglass Bay. It felt like a dream—Emma’s hand in mine, a rare wedge-tailed eagle circling above, and pademelons waiting for us on the white sands of the bay.
Now, in the car, the kilometres melt by. I’m bathed in happiness and I want this to last forever, but we arrive in Hobart all too soon. Emma invites me to stay the night and I agree willingly, unable to tear myself away. We unload her things, then I race to collect Jess and drive quickly back to Emma’s. I know it’s ridiculous, but I’m terrified things might change in the short time I’m away, afraid that she’ll stop wanting me. But when I walk through the bungalow door Emma is still smiling, and the choking sensation in my throat gradually subsides.
I lie beside her through the night, drunk with love.
In the morning, we’re dressed and having breakfast when the door is shoved open and a figure fills the doorway. I recognise him immediately: the man from Emma’s lab at the antdiv. He’s wearing tight black fleece trousers and a maroon top, both emphasising his bulky muscles. He leans against the door, hands in his pockets, and stares at us for several long seconds. His face is flat and his eyes are small and set too far apart. I can tell he has recently returned from down south—he has that faraway look, the tightness of not belonging. The same look I saw in Emma when I first met her.
‘Emma,’ he says, eyes flashing with outrage. ‘What’s happening?’
Her face is arranged in an appeasing smile. ‘Nothing, Nick. We’re having breakfast. That’s all.’
He looks me up and down then swings back to Emma. ‘I was expecting you up at the house last night for dinner,’ he says. ‘I thought we had an arrangement.’
Emma stands up. ‘I didn’t say I was coming to dinner.’
He steps into the room and I clear the dishes into the kitchen, keeping an eye on the door.
‘You always come to Saturday dinner,’ he says. ‘I was waiting for you.’
‘We were at Freycinet till late.’ Emma is flushed and defensive.
I wonder if the shoes and harness I used belong to this man. He certainly has the leg-size to match. I slip along the wall to roll up Jess’s blanket. She’s at my heels with a growl rumbling in her chest. The room feels small with three people and a dog in it.
‘Who is this guy, anyway?’ Nick asks condescendingly. ‘He comes with a dog, does he? Like Barbie comes with a handbag.’ He stares at me and I tuck Jess’s blanket under my arm.
‘Stop it, Nick.’ Emma is looking at me uneasily. Perhaps she’s afraid I’ll retaliate.
‘I didn’t know you were making new friends, Emma.’ Nick moves closer to her. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce us?’ The atmosphere in the tiny room is uncomfortable. He places his hand on Emma’s arm and glares at me. ‘Isn’t it time for you to go?’
I hesitate, glancing at Emma, wondering what to do.
‘The dog wants to leave,’ Nick says.
Jess has slunk across the room and is standing by the door with her lips curled. Her eyes and ears are flat. She doesn’t like Nick, and she’s not the only one. I follow her to the door.
‘Tom,’ Emma says.
There’s not enough room in here for all of us but I’m not sure whether she wants me to stay or go. I seek her face for a signal. I know it’s weak to run out, but I can’t bear confrontation. And although Nick is belligerent, he doesn’t seem aggressive. Emma will be safe if I remove myself.
‘Perhaps I’d better leave,’ I mumble. Jess is at my heels.
‘Let him go,’ Nick growls.
‘Tom,’ Emma calls again.
I look back. Emma’s face is troubled. She wants me to stay, but she has business with Nick that needs to be resolved. I can’t help her with that. Nick is still glaring at me, his face as dark as thunder. My legs continue to march along the path, taking me away.