SIX

They drove all day, top down, not talking much. Sharon soon realized that Colin wasn't much of a one for idle conversation - or any kind for that matter - but he was a listener. She knew he was taking in what she said. There was something about his behaviour that made her think he was interested in her. So for once she didn't find herself babbling on and talking too much and getting on some bloke's nerves. There seemed no need to 'impress' Colin O'Brien. He seemed sufficiently satisfied with her presence already.  He had invited her along for the ride. That must count for something.

They stopped for lunch, buying a sammie from a bakery in some one-horse town and washing it down with a couple of stubbies by the side of the road.

Sharon observed Colin looking at his palm at one point; she had noticed while he slept the night before that his hand was injured - and that he was covered in bruises all over his body. She wondered what kind of trouble he had got himself in and if that was why he was on the road.

"What happened to your hand?"

He shrugged. "Caught it on the car hood." She reached over and picked up his hand, opening it out in her smaller ones, wincing when she saw the raw, skinned palm.

"Nasty. You should have it covered."

"I did. Bandage fell off when I had a shower..."

Sharon rummaged in her bag and pulled out a handkerchief. As she went to dress the wound, she looked thoughtfully at it. "I read palms, y' know?"

He looked sceptical. "Yeah? What's it say there?"

She looked closely at it. "Not sure...hard to read. That cut skinned right through your life line."

"So? That mean I'm dead?" he answered with a wry smile and took another drag on his cigarette.

"Naww...could be either way...this line is really defined...that's your life line... but there's another line cutting it...if that goes right through then it means you'll die young, not of ill health though..."

"How can you die of good health...?" he grinned.

Sharon slapped his arm softly. "I mean it would be an unexpected accident. You would be in your prime..."

"So when's this accident going to happen? I have time for a last beer?" He didn't seem to be very bothered by the macabre turn of the conversation.

"Palms don't give you the dates....and anyway, maybe it didn't bisect the lifeline...I can't tell with this injury..."

"It'll heal...you can read it then..." he added. Sharon smiled at his unconscious mention of the future as if she would be with him then, later, when the wound had healed.

"It might...depends how deep this is...or it might leave scarring..."

"Well, then we'll never know, will we? Think I prefer that..." he muttered. "What's the point of knowing what you can't change anyway? Just let it happen. Best way..."

Sharon had always searched for signs that one day her luck would change. Colin on the other hand didn't seem in the least interested in planning for the future. She rather liked his fatalism. And she suddenly realized that it didn't matter in the least for her anymore either. Her luck had changed. She'd not read that in the cards or the tea leaves. It had changed just when she'd least expected it. Maybe Colin was right. Just let life happen...

Her daydream was rudely awoken when over the brow of the hill came an unexpected sight. A wheelchair was flying down the middle of the road piloted by a scruffy looking bloke carrying what looked like an accordion on his lap. Colin swerved to avoid him but it still was enough to cause the man to run his chair off the road and fall into a ditch at the side. Colin stopped in a screech of brakes and ran back to check he was all right.

The bloke was struggling and shouting aggressively even as Colin attempted to haul him back onto the wheelchair. "You fucking maniac! Ya should be hung by your fucking balls. I'm handicapped already - what you fucking want? Me to lose my fucking arms as well?"

"Maybe you should try staying on your side of the road then, mate..." Colin dryly observed.

"Side of the fucking road? I'm not a fucking car, mate...I'm a fucking human being. I've got free will. I can go wherever the fuck I like..."

"You need a ride? Where ya going, mate?" Colin looked back at the road they had been on. There was nothing for miles - not since the town where they had bought lunch. The poor bloke surely couldn't get himself back there before nightfall - and he seemed pretty shook up.

"Go on then...least ya can fucking do. Run me back there. Save me a few hours of wear and tear on my wheels..."

Colin took him back to the car and introduced Sharon.

"She your Sheila then?"

Colin mumbled. "She's Sharon. A friend..."

"You're fucking her then? Don't be a fucking nob...doesn't bother me, mate. No accounting for taste, though...Pleased to meet ya, love. Name's Jonah. You like music?"

Colin threw the folded up chair in the trunk, jumped back in and did a U-turn. This would slow them down. By the time they got back to town, they might as well stay there the night. It would be either that or drive all night - there was nothing between here and tomorrow morning.

"You from round here? Not exactly most people's choice of a holiday location..." Jonah observed.

Colin thought a moment. "My Dad's got a place. Outside Reillytown."

"What's his name? I bet I know him. Used to do all the stations before this happened..."

"O'Brien..."

"Know him! Good bloke. So you live at his place?"

"No. Just visiting..." He told him as little as possible. You never knew who comes asking questions and this was already a bit too much information for Colin.

"What were you doing out there in the middle of nowhere, anyway?" Sharon thankfully chose that moment to change the subject, leaning back and observing the curious man with a friendly smile. Jonah was tall and gaunt, face weathered like an old boot, his hair balding but long and stringy at the back. He was wearing cut off denim shorts, torn and tattered at the hem, a faded checked shirt and a pair of dusty boots.

"That load of bastards in the hotel. They're fucking wankers. Kidnapped me, didn't they? Drove me out miles from fucking anywhere and dumped me. They're philistines, the lot of them! Don't appreciate music, y'see? Thought they'd get rid of me for a day...well, I'll fucking show them..."

At that he began to play his accordion. "You'll like this, love. Ride of the Valkyries. Finest piece ever written..." He launched into the stirring refrain.  "Fucking masterpiece..."

"What would you fucking know?" Colin shouted back, clearly tired of the performance. He dragged on his cigarette and leaned impatiently on the open window, driving with one hand. Jonah went on regardless. Colin looked in the mirror.

"Why don't you fucking stop playing, mate?" His voice was irritated. Sharon looked across. Colin was no longer quite as laid back as he has been so far.

"Fucking make me," Jonah threw back.

"I fucking will, mate..." Colin slammed his foot on the brake and made as if to stop and throw him out.  Jonah held his hands up.

"Calm down, mate..." Sharon grinned at him. He winked back. Colin started the engine and sulked.

"You start up that fucking racket again..."

"I heard ya...." Jonah lowered his voice... "You fucking cretin..."

Back in town, Colin pulled up outside Flaherty's Hotel and Bar, retrieving the wheelchair from the trunk and struggling to set it up. "I should hold onto this and save your mates' ears..." he said before banging it down and helping Jonah into it. "You got a motel in this dump?"

"Down the street, half a mile or so...ya can't miss it..." Colin was already back in the car. Jonah watched them go. "Cretins!" he shouted after them as he made his way back to the hotel entrance.

"Ya pack of scumbags...!" Jonah announced as he sailed through the doors of the bar and started up his melody again.

"Stop that bloody racket..." a blousy and overly made up landlady shouted over. Her name was Gloria. She'd been a bit of a beauty in her day and still dressed for a tea party, silk scarf round her neck, dangling earrings, hair set like a golden cage around her plump features. The vision of elegance and proper attire was soon shattered, however, once she opened her mouth and the grating tone of her strident voice sounded over the din of the rough and ready clientele. "Who let that bastard back in?"

"My beer's flat, Gloria love," One burly bloke shouted.

Gloria picked up his glass and poured it into his lap. "Seems pretty lively to me still..." she observed with a sharp retort. 

"Awww, Gloria, love, whatcha have to do that for?"

"Will someone shut up that bloody crippled maniac before I do?" She screamed at Jonah and ignored the complaints of the other customers. In this bar, no one dared cross Gloria Bassett. Not if you wanted to keep your balls, anyway.

Half a mile away, Colin and Sharon were checking into the town motel. He decided not to use his own name. "What's your name?" he muttered to Sharon as they walked through the door.

"Sharon Miller..."

"Room...Mr. and Mrs. Miller..." Colin put some cash on the table.

"How long you staying?" The girl asked with little interest. No one ever stayed longer than one night and she hardly bothered listening to the reply.

"Just a day...maybe two," Colin replied softly.

"Room 19...on your left..."

They made their way to the dingy room and went in, suddenly a little embarrassed before each other despite the abandon of the night before. "I need the bathroom..." Sharon muttered and Colin nodded absently, throwing himself down on one of the twin beds and rolling a cigarette. She disappeared inside and freshened up, taking a quick shower, washing out her underwear with hand soap and hanging them to dry on the shower rail.

Drying her hair on a towel, wrapped in another, she came out tentatively. Colin turned his head and watched her impassively as she crossed the room. "I've finished...with the bathroom, I mean...in case you, you know... you want to use it..."

He stubbed out the end of the cigarette and sat up. "You saying I smell?

She laughed. "No. But let's face it after a day on the road...I'm sure you do...up to you though...I like a man to smell like a man..."

He rolled his eyes and stripped off his shirt, raising it to his nose and giving it a sample sniff. "Maybe I will take a wash..." He dropped his jeans and stood up, wearing only the black singlet and the shapeless grey shorts. As he turned round, she noticed a small hole on his butt. It made her smile. It was somehow endearing.

She watched him drag his vest over his powerful shoulders, admired the way the barbed wire tattoo accentuated his thick biceps and drooled over the breadth of his back. Her eye drifted to the dark bruising round his kidneys. "What happened, Colin? Someone beat the shit out of you?"

He glanced in the mirror. "Had a bit of an accident before I left. Difference of opinion between me and someone else..."

She moved over and stroked the area of the bruising gently. "You're in some kind of trouble, aren't you? What's been going on?"

He shrugged. "It's over now. No harm done..."

She realized he didn't want to talk about it. That was fine by her. She didn't particularly want to talk about her past either. It was a new start for them both.

"I fucked up a few things. But I sorted it out."

"We all make mistakes, hey?" Sharon replied softly running her hands over his shoulders to his neck and pulling him closer. "That's OK...people make mistakes... there's nothing wrong with that..."

He looked down at her and their eyes met for a long moment. She thought he was about to make a move, felt the stirring of his cock against her body. But he gave her a hesitant smile and stepped back. "I better take a shower...I stink..."

Sharon stood back as he moved to the bathroom and then called his name softly. He turned and she opened her towel. "Don't take too long...I'll be waiting for you..."

His face cracked into a grin, making him look like a little boy.

"You bet..."

They made love for a few lazy hours until hunger drove them to decide to make a move. Both were too comfortable, wrapped up naked in one of the narrow beds, tired and loose from their recent passionate coupling. What Colin lacked in initiative outside he made up for in between the sheets - he seemed to speak a whole different language with his body than in speech. Sharon was beginning to discover that inside his laconic and tough exterior was a gentle and romantic soul. Starved of affection and inhibited in articulating emotion he might be, but he wanted and needed to give and receive it nonetheless. She realized that even in the short time since she had met him, she was already being drawn into an emotional bond that she knew was unwise. When this man left her, as they all did in the end, she would be beyond devastated. She reckoned this time her heart would well and truly be smashed.

Finally Colin dragged himself away and went to take a piss while Sharon made up the bed and disposed of the used frangers that were scattered on the floor. Colin had been in fine form. They'd have to pick up some more soon at this rate. The strip of unused ones, only two left now, was lying on the sheet and she picked that up to leave it on the table by the bed. Then she noticed the date. Bloody hell! Five years out of date? That bastard Dermody always tried to work off old stock if you didn't watch him....

Shit! Sharon squirmed a little and realized that she was a bit too damp down there than she should have been. Had one of those little buggers leaked? Wondering whether or not she ought to mention it to Colin, she decided to keep her mouth shut and simply go buy some more. Most likely it would be all right. No need to get him worried for nothing. He had enough on his plate already, she thought to herself...

They drove back into town, bought a few burgers and then decided to have a beer at the hotel. It was fairly crowded in the bar for such a small town; Colin imagined this would be near to the whole male population. What the fuck else was there to do after work? When they walked in the place fell quiet as if they were aliens or something. They went up to the bar and Colin ordered a beer; Sharon said she'd have the same. Gloria pulled the two glasses and began the inquisition.

"Not from round these parts then?" she asked obviously, placing the first glass down before Sharon.

"No," Colin spoke for her and gave Sharon a direct stare; she could see he didn't want her to mention her town in case someone had heard about the robbery no doubt.

"Taken a vow of silence then?" Gloria threw back. 

Colin smiled. "Not much of a talker..."

"Where you from?"

"Sydney."

"What brings you here?"

"Heard of your wonderful hospitality..." he answered cheekily. Gloria weighed him up, decided that she rather liked his style and handed him his beer.

"Enjoy your stay, mate. Makes a change to have a man in here worth looking at... Look at the state of this shower..." Gloria turned away to ring up the sale. There were moans of: "And you're not exactly Kylie Minogue yourself, love..." One wit shouted across. Gloria glared over.

"You want to keep your front teeth, Bill?" He held his hands up in surrender and the rest of the place erupted in amusement.

Colin smiled and raised his glass to Sharon. She tipped hers against his and they had a drink.

"So...you just got wed or something?" Gloria hadn't finished with them yet.

"Yeah," Colin replied, grinning. "Just married..."

The man on the next stool turned round and slapped Colin on the back. "Bloody good luck to you then, mate, you'll bloody need it..."

That started a round of comments about marriage and its utter incompatibility with the nature of men.

"They use sex, you know, mate...sorry, Miss, no offence intended...that's our weakness, y'see. We have to have it so they use it like a carrot dangling in front of our eyes. Course, it's only a mirage in the desert. She gets a ring on and that's the last of it. It'll be "Roll my nightie down when you've finished, luv,' before you know it..."

"Or they start wearing bloody pyjamas..."

Colin smirked but didn't make any comment, merely looking at Sharon who gave him a come on look back. Then his eye was taken by the TV screen above the bar showing the evening's news...

...The identities of the four killed in a shoot out two days' ago in the attempted robbery on the Federal Bank of New South Wales in Elizabeth Street, Sydney, have been released by the city police today. They were Boorjan Karaji, his sons Mahmood and Gulbuddin and an associate, Anthony Giraldi. Mr. Karaji and his sons were killed when police opened fire on the getaway car he was driving. Giraldi died in the bank itself, trapped by the automatic shield that had been activated by staff. An enquiry is still being held into the police action and a report is expected in a few days...

Colin drank back his beer and tried to calm the sudden rapid beating of his heart. Bloody hell! That was the job he'd been lined up for. If he hadn't met Midori...if he hadn't stolen her husband's cash... if he hadn't got cold feet...he'd be dead now. Instead he was in a better place than ever and there was nothing to stop him going back to Sydney and his old life.

Except he didn't really want to. This whole crazy mess had somehow kick-started him into action and for the first time in a long time he felt like he had made some important steps forward. He had met a girl. He was going home to see his father. Both seemed to make sense to him.

He must have drifted off for it was Sharon whose sharp nudge to his ribs startled him back. "Col! Listen...that's Coorabanna..." She indicated the TV where the unremarkable high street of her hometown was now showing zooming in on the forecourt of the second hand car shop where Colin had repaired his car.

...The police in Coorabanna have arrested two suspects and are currently looking for a third man who is thought to have received the stolen money. Jack Foster, owner of Midnight Motors said as far as he and most of the people of the town were concerned, the case was closed....The camera showed Mr. Midnight himself being interviewed, his familiar oily features indignant and self important as ever, "If these bastards get off, it just says it all about the legal system in this country. So what if they don't have the money on them? I ask ya...who else would it bloody well be but a pack of drugged up ****." The soundtrack bleeped out the expletives, now doubt profane and racist. The screen returned to the bland newsreader in the studio and on to some farming news.

"They've picked some Abos up for the job you did, poor bastards...it's not fair, Colin..." Sharon whispered.

Colin shrugged. "Life's not bloody fair. They'll get off. No proof. No money. Main thing is...we're in the clear. They're all so fucking stupid that it hasn't even occurred to them to wonder about your sudden disappearance and the bloke who drove into town the day before - and knew there was money in the drawer.... They deserve to be ripped off if you ask me..."

They spent another hour or so there, had another few beers and then drove back to the motel. Colin was mellow, well oiled with drink and high on two lucky escapes. He now had no one on his back and was virtually home free. Unless Midori's old man found out what she had done and who she had done it with...but that was pretty unlikely. In such a good humour, with a sexy and willing girl at his side, Colin had plans for celebrating and no sooner were they out of the car and into the room, than he pounced on her, carrying her giggling and screaming to the bed.

"Colin! Put me down, ya big galah...look, wait a tic...listen!!" Sharon insisted as he rolled over her and began to unfasten her jeans. "We've no rubbers!"

"WHAT?" Colin groaned. "But we had a couple left..."

"We haven't got any now. I forgot to remind you to get some..."

"Fuck!" He fell back on the pillow in annoyance.

"You can still kiss me..." she teased.

"Fucking great...look at me..." He pointed to his hard on, uncomfortable and impressive, still struggling behind the denim of his pants.

Sharon slipped down his body and lay with her head on his lap. "Lucky for me I like the taste of you, hey? And while you're doing nothing...could you just give me the benefit of that agile tongue of yours..." He laughed and finished removing her jeans and the lovers found a few other ways to bring each other pleasure. Flopped in each other's arms later, kissing her swollen mouth and the lips that still tasted of him offering her a taste of herself, he pulled back and whispered: "Tomorrow morning, you better get some more frangers. First thing. You give the world's best head...but I'd rather do it properly. You feel so good, Shaz. Bonza..."

It occurred to Sharon that to a man like Colin that might be a serious breakthrough in the art of love talk. It would do for her any gate. As he dozed off, she snuggled deeper into his embrace and felt how they seemed to fit so well together. He hadn't said he wanted things to stay like this but everything he did say and do seemed to suggest he wanted her to stick around. Why had she never seen this in her Karma?

SEVEN

She woke early; Colin was still asleep and snoring loudly, his head face down in the pillow. Sharon slipped out of bed, washed, dressed and went out looking for some nearby shops to buy breakfast and some frangers. It would be a nice way of waking him up.

It was still early and the shops were just opening for the day. The chemist's was still locked. Next door there was an old pawnshop, full of second hand stuff, most of it tasteless rubbish. It was open, so she decided to have a nosey about, curious really.

At first she thought she was alone and wandered about picking things up and setting them back, amused by some of the ugly ornaments that no one could possibly want. In the centre of the shop, in a small area not as cluttered and dark as the rest, were two mannequins wearing formal dress - a man's tuxedo and a woman's cocktail dress, sort of 50s style. They were old but in reasonable condition if a little strong with the odour of mothballs.

Sharon found herself picking up the layers of the diaphanous skirt, pale turquoise blue, imagining what it would look like to be whirled around in a dance by a man wearing evening dress in some old fashioned elegant ball. She wondered how Colin would look all tuckered up, those broad shoulders and that wide chest making the most of the style.

"May I help you?"

Sharon spun round at the sound of the voice to see an old man with a kindly face who appeared to be looking past her. It didn't take long for her to realize that he was blind. "Are you blind?" she asked with her usual forthrightness.

"Yes, I am, dear. Do you wish to buy anything? If you just want to browse, that's fine with me..."

"How do you run this place if you can't see?" she asked.

The old man smiled. "I can still feel. There are other ways to recognize than sight....although not as pleasant, to be sure..." He reached out his hands and touched her face. At first she pulled away and then realised that it was not an intrusion as it might be for any sighted person - but just his way of seeing her. While she stood still, he ran his fingers lightly over her features as if mapping her. As he did so he smiled softly. "You have a beautiful face."

Sharon blushed and looked down, suddenly less brash at his words. His comment was said with a gentility from another era and, although in one circumstance it would have amused her, today in this place, it touched a part of her with its simple honesty, a compliment given expecting no gain. It made her mind up.

"I'd like to look at these clothes...the ones on the dummies..."

"Of course, but you'll have to undress them yourself..." She did so, carefully unpinning them and easing them off the dolls. The woman's dress she tried on in a storeroom with a cracked mirror - in it she saw a different version of herself. Pulling her hair down, she fluffed it out and admired herself in the unfamiliar image before her - ladylike dress, hugging her slender figure and giving her an innocent and virginal look. The suit seemed a good fit for him, so she made her mind up. For no reason other than sheer indulgence in a romantic notion so unlike her normal self, Sharon bought the two costumes and the old man folded them carefully before wrapping them up in brown paper and tying the parcels in string.

A quick call into the pharmacy and some doughnuts and coffee and she returned to the motel room to find Colin up and about, shaving in the bathroom dressed in his skivs, looking good enough to eat. So she did. Pulled his shorts down right there and then and gave his cock some attention - not that Colin ever needed much help to be ready to go. His face still smeared with shaving foam, he backed her into the room, they found the new packet and he nailed her to the bed in his usual powerful fashion. "Hope you brought stacks of those..." he muttered as she eased on the franger and he returned to his task, Sharon wrapped her legs around him and let him go. She wondered if she had ever felt this happy before in her entire life.

Meanwhile the TV in the background droned out the news, unnoticed by the lovers:

A statewide alert is on to apprehend a Japanese national, Yukio Takada, who is believed to have gone on the rampage after learning of the disappearance of his bride of two weeks, Midori. Takada is wanted for questioning about several murders including that of his friend and former colleague, Oshima Wasabe. Police are also eager to discover the whereabouts of Mrs. Takada who is believed to be traveling with a Mr. Sadao Kunagasi, her employer...

On the road again later that morning, both of them detected a different mood between them. It was hard to put your finger on what had changed really. It was as if they felt like a couple now not two people who were traveling together merely because neither had anywhere else to go. Colin now had an alternative; he was no longer running away. But he chose to go on, visit his dad, take some time on the road and have fun. Sharon wasn't going anywhere. She was staying. If he'd have her, she knew she was home.

Colin's whole demeanour seemed to change the nearer he got to his father's place. Sharon observed he lost that hunched, haunted, almost shifty look, he had had when she'd met him and seemed to hold his shoulders back squarely and relax into the seat as he drove. He smiled more, too - at her, just turning his head and giving her that half smile of his, or just for apparently nothing as he watched the open road. She wondered if the roads were now bringing back memories of his childhood, of a time before his life took its confusing downward spiral and everything had changed for him. It struck her as odd that while the country meant repression and a lack of opportunity to her, maybe to Colin is meant some golden age when he had been free and things had been simpler. Suddenly she saw him grow more assertive and less resigned to his fate. She began to wonder if there was something deep within an Australian man that the city was destroying. Maybe the rural life might have its attractions if you had a real man at your side after all.

It was mid afternoon on a burning hot day when they drove off the highway and hit the dusty side road down to the O'Brien station. It was a pretty sizeable land but the drought of the last years had taken its toll and the property had been reduced to a barren scrub with hardly anything growing but the hardiest of plants. The soil was like fine dust, blowing into everything until your mouth was dry and parched, your skin was coated in a fine layer, your eyes stung and your nose itched. Nothing seemed to move for miles. Nothing but heat and sun and loneliness seemed to emanate from the place.

"This is my home," Colin said almost to himself as he steered the car slowly over the bumpy track. "It looked different then..."

Finally they drove up to a farmhouse that had clearly seen better days but still bore the incongruous signs of its fading elegance. It was part wooden Federation style, with the usual verandah and shutters but it also incorporated those features that the settlers regarded as refinements from back home, the signs that even out here in the Antipodean wilderness they hadn't lost the aspirations of the suburban British and Irish homes they had left. Front door decorated with floral stained glass motifs, roses planted in the garden now gone wild, chintzy curtains at windows and pottery ornaments. A crazy mixture of outback station and suburban primness. Typical of the cultural confusion that was Australia.

An older man opened the screen door and peered out, clearly not expecting visitors. He was weather beaten and craggy of face and his initial reaction was hostile as if he was ready to chase them away.

And then he recognised his son.

"Colin?"

"Hello, Dad. Long time, no see."

The two men looked at each other. Colin indicated his companion. "This is Sharon. Sharon, m'dad. Cam O'Brien..."

Cam nodded and looked searchingly at Colin, noticing the cut above his eye and the bandaged hand. "You in trouble?"

"Nothing I can't handle," his son replied. "Just being here's help enough, mate." Cam nodded again, his face impassive but emotion still clear in the way he held himself.

He ushered them inside. "Let me take a picture of you both. I'm always taking pictures. Proof I exist, I suppose. Something I do, you know? Rembrandt painted himself a lot. I take pictures..." he laughed as if at his own foolishness but they posed and he took a few shots. It was a long time since he'd seen Colin; the last time he'd been a boy in a man's body...about eight years ago. Now, he was a man. He felt proud and saddened by that realization. Where do the years go?

"Let me! Go on...with your Dad, Col..." Sharon snatched the camera and the two men stood side by side and even managed embarrassed smiles. They sat down at the kitchen table while Sharon busied herself making tea and laying out a plate of biccies, letting the two men talk. Occasionally she would sneak a glance over at them together and it made her feel good. This is how life should be. Families. Taking care of each other. Not the way it had been for both of them. She put down the cups and slipped in by Colin's side; his arm instinctively went around her waist and pulled her closer. Cam watched them. He'd forgotten about love. It made him feel glad inside to see the two of them together. He hoped they would enjoy themselves whilst it lasted.

EIGHT

They ate a simple dinner and Sharon cleared up while the men had a beer on the porch. She looked around the house that had obviously once had a woman's touch - antimacassars on the backs of armchairs, upright piano, ornaments and prints everywhere - most things dusty and unused. But it was a decent home, a middle class home, where there were lots of books and records. Cam played Mozart on an old gramophone while they had dinner.

"Dad likes this classical stuff," Colin had said as if slightly embarrassed by it all.

Cam remarked it was proper music, not like the rubbish you kids listen to today. Colin smiled. "I'm twenty nine, Dad, thirty next birthday. Not exactly a kid any more..."

"Don't seem much different to me," Cam replied bluntly. It was hard to know if that was meant as a compliment or a criticism.

Sharon helped herself to a few bottles of beer and carried them out; she found Cam sitting alone staring into the night. "Where's Colin?"

"He said he was tired. Having a rest..."

"He's been driving all day. I should turn in early too..." she began. Cam turned and handed her one of the beers.

"Sit here a while, love. I don't usually have company..."

Sharon took a seat and sipped on the bottle of beer. They looked out on the land, the occasional kangaroo wandering back and forth grazing, daring enough to come close to the house itself.

"They've eaten all the grass...last water from the dam...it's the drought. I've watched my land blow away over these past years..." he sank into thoughtful silence. Sharon said little; it was a familiar story to her, one she had heard in bars often enough when men were morose and had had a skinful of drink. But this time she understood it better with the actual proof staring her in the face. Suddenly he turned back to her. "What are you and Colin doing here?"

Sharon was unsure how to answer him. "You not seen Colin for awhile then?"

Cam laughed ruefully. "Years. We're not a very close family. Don't get in each other's pockets. You known him long?"

"No...not very long..." Sharon muttered. "Just a few days. He turned up one day and then the next day...I ran away with him. Crazy?"

Cam smiled sadly. "I forgot people did things like that." He was silent for a moment. "I once nearly killed a man because I thought he was messing with my girl. He was my best friend. I went to prison for that but it changed my life. My karma. My wife ran off one day with a bloke who was passing through. Took my kids. Then this farm went belly up. I'm still paying for what I did. Not sure it ever ends..."

Sharon felt a pang of pity for this lonely man. "It doesn't work like that. I used to think it did but now...I think you can change your fate. But you have to do something about it. Go against the grain. Take a chance."

"You taking a chance on my Colin?" he asked shrewdly.

"Yes."

"I hope he deserves your trust. He's not a bad lad. He just had a bad deal. His Mum and me...we weren't exactly the best parents in the world..."

"He turned out all right..."

Cam smiled. "Yeah...you could be right, love. There's a lot worse than my son in this world."

"Too right. Think I've met most of them as well..."

Sharon stood up and leant over placing a kiss on the older man's cheek. "I'll say goodnight, Cam, if you don't mind. But, have a think about it. You don't have to blow away with your land. There's still time to change things."

He shook his head. "I don't think so, sweetheart. I don't have the energy to change. Wish I did."

Sharon opened the door to Colin's room softly. No one had actually mentioned where she should sleep. She expected that meant she was to share Colin's room. It didn't seem like Cam had any puritanical notions about an unmarried couple sharing the same bed. As she came in, Colin turned to look at her; he was lying dressed on the bed, smoking.

"I thought you were sleeping," Sharon whispered as she came to join him.

"Just dozing. Too lazy to get my boots off..."

Sharon climbed onto the bed. "I'll do that!"

"You don't need to," he protested, sitting back on his elbows.

She gently pushed him back. "I want to," as she unlaced them and pulled them off, removing his socks. Wriggling up his body, she straddled his hips and rested her groin against his; they both felt the heat that radiated from them.

"Did you live here?" She muttered as she looked about his room still cluttered with the signs of his boyhood.

"When I was young. There was grass everywhere." He sighed. "Mum got lonely. She likes people. Dad doesn't need them. One day Mum took us off. Sydney first eventually all the way up to Cairns. Only seen Dad a couple of times since then."

Sharon nodded in sympathy. "Rarely see my Dad. He was at Mum's funeral. At least he turned up for that. More respect for her dead than alive. Where's your Mum now?"

Colin took a last drag of his cigarette. "Northern Queensland. New guy. My sister's in the Philippines, I think. Not a close family."

He lay back and stared at the ceiling. Sharon leaned over him and looked into his face. "I really like you, Colin"

He looked at her steadily. "I like you too, Sharon."

Their words were simple, almost childlike but their eyes told a different story. She pulled up the white singlet  he was wearing and wrenched it up his strong arms balling it around his hands now above his head and temporarily binding him. His broad chest was exposed, thrust forward, the hair on his pectorals and under his arms a dark shading, highlighting his masculinity. She kissed his exposed throat, his nipples, and then on a trail following the thick thatch of hair below his navel until her fingers contacted with the rough fabric of his jeans and she unbuttoned him slowly. One glance at his face showed he was aroused, his head thrown back and an earthy, sensual expression on his face. His cock was already hard as she eased it out from the confines of his pants and then crudely shrugged off her shorts and plunged straight down, spearing herself on him until he was deep inside and she was grinding down on his pubic bone, their hair entwined. He groaned and shivered as she rose and fell, deep into her own pleasure, wet and open even before he touched her.

Falling forward she brought her face to his; for a moment they stared silently into each other's eyes, speaking a language that both instinctively knew. He reached for her, captured her lips, devoured them as he began to thrust his hips upwards and move from side to side, filling her and stimulating her intensely. With a moan, he threw her over onto her back, suddenly impatient with the restrictions of the position and bore down on her as he kissed her.

But then he pulled away. "You feel so good..." he gasped. "I want to feel your cunt...I want my naked cock inside you...but..." and he scrabbled until his hand contacted with the condoms on the bedside table. Gritting his teeth and breathing carefully, he paused and rolled one on before returning to her body.

"Good job one of us is thinking," Sharon whispered.

"Next town. See a doctor. Go on the pill..." he groaned as he entered her again. Sharon writhed in pleasure and complete euphoria. They were something he saw long term in his head. He wanted her as she wanted him. It was almost enough alone to make her come.

Outside, still drinking on his bottle of beer, Cam heard the sounds on the night air. Not the usual wail of a bird in distress or the far off howl of a dingo but a woman crying out in pleasure and the deeper grunts of the man giving her love. It brought a smile to his mouth and he felt as if that elemental act unfolding so near to him was like some rebirth. This place had been dying too long. He had been sitting and waiting for the end. The memory of his younger self, buried in a woman's body, held safe in her arms, making life and in charge of his own destiny stirred him. A lump came into his throat, happiness that his son was being cared for by a woman who loved him tinged with the knowledge of the wasted years of his own bitterness. Was she right? Was there still time to halt the rot and make something of the time left to him?

In the darkness of their bedroom lit only by moonlight, lying prone on the pillow staring at each other, Colin took her right hand and interlinked it with his left, watching how they fit together. Sharon motioned for him to show her his own right hand resting on the slats of the bedhead. "You will have new lines, Colin. A new fate. So will I. I think I'm in love with you, Colin. Does that scare you?"

He smiled over. "I didn't know you could fall in love in just a few days."

"You don't think it's real love I'm feeling?" she asked.

"No, I didn't mean that. I meant me. I'm not scared. I'm in love with you too. Don't leave me, Sharon. I don't want to be alone anymore..."

"I'm not going anywhere, Colin. Why would I go?  It's real love I feel for you."

His voice was husky as if he could hardly enunciate the gentle words - but he said them. Leaning over to her, he whispered, "It's real love I feel for you, too."

They kissed and he lay above her, his leg parting her thighs and his knee resting against the warm wet softness of her nakedness. She ran her foot along one of his legs and stroked the fur. His fingers played with strands of her hair. "You fancy a trip to the sea? Go down south to the coast? Take Dad? The beach is wonderful..." he asked all at once.

Sharon beamed her answer. Colin reached down and kissed her again as their passion grew and as the moon waned they made love again, a different love. Real love.

NINE

At first Cam refused their offer to come with him, claiming he wasn't as keen on the sea as Colin's mother had been. But Sharon wouldn't take no for an answer. They were only going about a week. What could happen that hadn't already happened on this dying land in that short space of time? Colin said he'd like his father to come. They all paused for a final snap and then Cam suddenly changed his mind. "Offer still open? I wont take long to throw a few things in a bag..."

There were smiles all round. Anyone who knew them and saw them that minute would not have recognized any of the three of them. That's what happiness can do. Change your outlook completely from one moment to the next. Give you the courage to take the leap.

They drove all day until they reached the outskirts of a country town called Porter. There was a banner up at the side of the road advertising the B and S ball taking place that afternoon.

"Do they still do Batchelor's and Spinster's?" Cam chortled from the back seat. "I remember those when I was a lad."

"They sure do," Sharon laughed. "Nothing ever changes in these country towns. Time stands still."

"Not a bad thing," Cam observed. "Now if Colin here had a shirt and tie instead of a bag full of sweaty singlets, I'd suggest we made a stop and had a dance... mind you, Sharon, I've got a jacket and tie with me. Maybe you'd come on my arm instead?"

Colin snorted. "Isn't the idea to come on your own and pick someone up? It isn't the Courting Couples Ball, y'know?"

"You fancy it, Col? Just for a laugh. I bought those secondhand clothes in that town, remember? Go on...I dare you to get all togged up in that tux..."

They parked the car at a garage and used the toilets to get changed. Cam came out all brushed and hair oiled, Colin sauntered out in his evening suit striking James Bond poses and then Sharon joined them looking like a star from an old movie in the cocktail dress, her hair rolled into a chignon and her makeup elegant. The grungy rock chick of a few days ago seeming to have disappeared, as she had piece-by-piece demolished the brittle edifice she had built around her to reveal a girl inside that even she had forgotten existed.

Arm-in-arm, they walked over to the marquee and paid their entry fee. The lady on the door, a buxom brunette of maybe fifty-five, gave Cam the eye. "You look a bit old to be a bachelor, love!" she said with a smile as she handed them their tickets.

"And you should have been snatched up years ago. What's wrong with the men in this town?" He retorted. Colin gave him a look of astonishment. His Dad? Flirting?

"Is that a polite way of saying I'm too old for this ball?" The lady threw back with a feigned annoyance.

Cam made a half bow. "Too good for it is what I meant, my lovely. But as it's the best we have - would you care for a dance?" She accepted and the young couple watched the older one step into the tent to take the floor.

"Bloody hell...he didn't waste his time, did he?" Colin observed.

Sharon grinned. "He hasn't got time to waste. Come on...you're not going to let your Dad show you how it's done, are you?"

They went to the bar and Colin ordered a few beers. A bar maid looked him over and then caught a glimpse of Sharon hanging off his arm. "You new around here?"

"My first B and S ball," Colin answered with a smile.

The girl giggled knowingly. "Looks like it'll be your last, mate," cocking an eye at his girl. Sharon blushed and Colin looked at his feet. 

Just then a young man approached her and asked her to dance. Sharon looked at Colin; he winked his approval and she let herself be whisked onto the floor, aware that Colin was watching her, knocking back the glass of beer and drinking hers as well. Cam and his friend were getting on very well enjoying every song. He shook his head in amusement and then noticed a girl walking in his direction who shyly asked him to dance.

Dance after dance passed and Colin and Sharon circled the floor but rarely took their eyes off each other, no matter with whom they danced. Sharon could not believe how wonderful he looked in the formal suit, his shoulders square, his powerful build accentuated, his handsome looks virile and dashing set off by the suit. She thought he looked like he could do anything if he only put his mind to it. He was her man and she couldn't believe her luck that he had walked into her life.

Colin's thoughts were not dissimilar as he observed her making her mark on all the young men who asked her onto the floor. When he had first met her, she had caught his eye because she'd come on to him. It had been as simple as that. On the road, a girl shows some interest, gives good head, you take what you can get. But then the past few days with her and it was hard to believe she was the same girl as the hard faced woman in the café. Maybe that had always been his problem with women, never having looked below the surface for the person inside - but then when did women ever try to see what he was about? Except for Sharon. She seemed to have seen what he was about  straight off and even shown him things about himself he had never known. She was pretty, sensual and caring and she didn't give a shit. She was loving with him and had done his dad a power of good. All the good things in the world seemed to be in her eyes. It was as though he has just found out what he needed in life at last.

The song came to an end and the band struck up with the last waltz. Colin excused himself to his partner and came over to Sharon and hers. She thanked him and turned to Colin; they hadn't danced together all night. It was a cheesy old number but neither noticed as Sharon came into his arms and they began to dance, staring into each other's eyes as they whirled around.

Don't forget to remember me
And the way it used to be
Don't forget to remember me, my love...

He picked her up, spun round and round with her in his arms, danced out of the tent and into the sunlight where they smiled and held each other as other people began to leave for home and smirked at the couple lip-locked in a passionate embrace.

"Er....Colin....?" The two of the broke apart, a little embarrassed to be caught kissing in public.

"Dad?"

"I was thinking...it's a bit late to go on tonight. You thinking of taking a room here?"

Colin shrugged. "I reckon so."

"Well...Babs and I....we were thinking of having supper together. I'll see you in the morning. Bright and early hey?"

Colin stared at his father hurrying off with his lady friend. "Fuck me if he isn't going to get laid," Colin commented in astonishment.

"Father and son alike," Sharon grinned. "Let's find a room, hey?"

The following morning, Cam joined them for breakfast at a diner on the high street. He wondered if they had any objection to him bringing Babs along for the trip. "I decided to take a leaf out of everyone else's book," he said. "Take off with a woman I meet passing through..."

"You sure about this?" Colin asked, his fork poised between the plate and his mouth.

"Sure as I've been about anything in a long time," Cam replied. "Way I see it is...you're a long time dead..."

Colin shrugged. "Tell her to get a move on. We've a long drive ahead..."

Babs was a nice lady, friendly and chatty and forthcoming with her life story. She was a widow and her children were all married and had moved away to the city. Her husband Bob had run a motor repair shop in Porter but since he had passed on she had found it hard to run - she needed a manager or a partner who knew the business. Apart from that there was her little gift and card shop, which was a full time job in itself. She had left her assistant Millie to run it while she was away but the old dear was dotty and needed watching most of the time.

Babs seemed to have taken a real liking to Cam and, if his moonstruck face was anything to go by, then the feeling was mutual. Colin mused as he was driving what would be the next turn up for the books. He was almost beginning to expect the unexpected by now.

They reached the ocean early afternoon and took a drive along the highway flanking it until Colin found the spot he was looking for, a quiet stretch of beach where they had come as kids. "I remember when I first saw it," he said to Sharon and the others, "I didn't know it would be so big. It meant that there were places to go I never knew existed. I used to think the beach made it better. It fixed things..."

Cam listened and realized that those holidays, when Glenda had been happy, must have seemed to their children like a magical time. For once their parents hadn't been arguing - or even worse, not talking at all. It was the first time he had really considered what it had all been like from their point of view.

A warm breeze blew the strong smell of ozone as they coasted down towards the parking lot - but the place was not deserted as they had expected. There were a few police cars parked haphazardly about and tape stretched out along the entrance to the path down to the beach. Colin stopped the car and got out, walking over to ask the young officer on duty what was happening.

"Sorry, sir, but this stretch of beach is closed..." he indicated a crowd of people down below at a distance from a car that was burning fiercely on the sand. "Pretty nasty business. Some crazy Japanese bloke. We'd been following his trail for days and finally caught up with him just as he was about to shoot his wife and her lover. He took them hostage and got away. A couple of squad cars chased him to the beach but before we could apprehend them, the wacko shot all of them and put a gun to his own head. The car turned over and went up in a ball of flames. They're trying to douse it now but there's no chance for the occupants. They're dead."

Colin looked in shock from the policeman to the burning wreck. "You don't happen to know the names?" he asked.

"Names? Let me see...the woman was called..." he got out a notebook from his pocket. "...Midori Takada...."

Colin must have let out a groan for the young man looked at him oddly. "Are you all right, sir?" But he was already gone, staggering away before turning once again to watch the conflagration. Sharon saw his face and jumped out running over to his side.

"What is it? You all right? Bloody hell...anyone in that?"

"Yeah...three people..."

"God, that's awful! What happened?"

"I know the woman. I met her a few days ago. I...helped her get money from a bank..."

"Jesus Christ! What the hell was she doing here?"

Colin wiped his hand down his face, felt the cold sweat, and a sudden strange sense of déjà vu. The odd events of the past few days ran through his mind. Somehow he knew that they were all connected in a way he could not fathom except that he had an overwhelming sense that he had just escaped an untimely death. He could feel the seep of cold into his bones even on this hot day. "You know how you said I might die young? In an accident? Well, maybe I just changed my fate..."

Sharon couldn't understand what he was rambling about. "It's a load of cobblers, Colin. It was just a bit of nonsense..."

"No...I did change it. It's different now. I just feel it. I did something I wasn't supposed to do and I turned my bad luck into good. Day I met you was the best day of my life..." He put his arms around her and held her close. "I've had a lucky escape. Not going to waste it now. Gotta make it all count. You'll see, Sharon...I'm changing my life for good from now on. It's like they say...you make your own luck.

She didn't have a clue what he meant but she still got the point of it all. He thought she was some talisman and was going to keep her close. That was enough for her.

TEN

The two couples spent their week by the sea without spending much of it together; each had their own agenda. By the end of the seven days, it wasn't just Colin who had made some life decisions. Cam and Babs were already talking of moving in together; he was going to put his property up for sale (however unlikely it was that he would be able to sell it). They planned to run the shop in town together. Babs had discovered that Colin was a skilled mechanic and she had offered him the manager's position at the garage. Sharon was contemplating opening a little salon and nail shop. It all seemed too good to be true that four people, lonely and unfulfilled, could in less than two weeks have found a new way forward and now had a future ahead of them. Colin mentioned that he kept waiting for the axe to fall; Cam said that everything you did cost you in the end. Babs and Sharon said they were two miserable pessimists.

It was a week or so later when Sharon wandered into the workshop. Colin had been at it night and day trying to get the place ready to reopen it. She stopped at the entrance and watched him as he worked, sweaty, dirty and whistling tunelessly along to the radio. He still looked as spunky as they come. The kind of bloke you blow on the first date.

"Col?" He didn't hear her at first so she turned down the radio and tried again. "Col?"

He turned round and smiled at her. "What's up, Shaz?"

She walked quietly towards him, a little unsure now it came to it how to say it. "I need to talk to you about something. You know how you said you were waiting for the axe to fall? That we'd have to pay for all this good luck..."

He paled beneath the layer of grime. "What's happened? Is it Dad?"

"No...no...not anything like that...Colin...My period's overdue. I just did a test. It's positive...I'm sorry...those frangers were out of date. I think one leaked..."

He stared at her blinking rapidly, saying nothing. She didn't know if he was angry or just in shock.

"Say something, Colin...don't just stand there..."

"You're pregnant? A baby? You and me made a baby? That's the price of all this?"

Sharon nodded. "It's early days. If you really don't want it, I could..."

"NO! No...that's not right...this is meant to be. I should have been dead. Instead I made a life...bloody hell...fuck...!" He walked forward and grabbed her, picking her up despite the oil on his hands and clothes and kissing her. Sharon began to cry, relief flooding through her. He wasn't mad. He was happy about it. It might not have been what they had planned but - what the hell? That was Colin's philosophy of life anyway. Let things roll over you. If it happens, it happens. It was meant to be.

Resting her down, he grinned. "I was just thinking. If it's a girl ...can we call her Karma?  Karma O'Brien?"