made any kind of contact.
It showed how very far apart they’d drifted.
Almost fearfully, Ellie glanced at the silent blank TV screen in the corner of the homestead lounge room. She didn’t really have time to turn it on. She was disgustingly muddy after her tussle in the dam with the bogged cow and she needed to get out of these stinking clothes. She wasn’t even sure why she’d rushed inside to answer the phone in this filthy state, but some instinct had sent her running.
She should get changed and showered before she did anything else. She wouldn’t even look for Nina and Jacko until she was clean.
But, even as she told herself what she should do, Ellie picked up the remote. More than one channel would cover the return.
It took a few seconds of scrolling before she found a scene at Mascot Airport and a journalist’s voiceover reporting an emotional welcome for the returning troops.
The screen showed the airport crowded with soldiers in uniform, hugging their wives and lifting their children high, their tanned, lean faces lit by unmistakable excitement and emotion.
Tears and happy smiles abounded. A grinning young man was awkwardly holding a tiny baby. A little girl hugged her daddy’s khaki-clad knee, trying to catch his attention while he kissed her mother.
Ellie’s throat ached. The scene was crammed with images of family joy. Tears pricked her eyes and she wondered where Joe was.
And then she saw him.
The man who would soon be her ex.
At the back of the crowd. Grim-faced. He was skirting the scenes of elated families, as if he was trying to keep out of camera range while he made his way purposefully to the exit.
He looked so alone.
With his green Commando’s beret set rakishly on his short dark hair, Joe looked so tall and soldierly. Handsome, of course. But, compared with his laughing, happy comrades, he also looked very severe. And so very alone.
Ellie’s mouth twisted out of shape. Tears spilled. She didn’t know why—she simply couldn’t help it.
Then the camera shifted to a politician who’d arrived to welcome the troops.
Quickly, she snapped the remote and the images vanished.
She let out her breath in a despairing huff. She felt shaken at seeing Joe again after so long. To her dismay, it had been more like a horse kick to her heart.
She drew a deeper calming breath, knowing she had to set unhelpful sentimentality aside. She’d been braced for Joe’s return and she’d known what was required.
Their divorce would be finalised now and it was time to be sensible and stoic. She knew very well there was no prospect of a happy reunion. She and Joe had made each other too miserable for too long. If she was honest, she wasn’t surprised that Joe hadn’t bothered to tell her his deployment was over. She didn’t mind really.
But she did mind that he hadn’t even asked to see Jacko.
* * *
Joe stood at the motel window on Sydney’s Coogee Beach, looking out at an idyllic moonlit scene of sea cliffs and rolling surf.
So, it was over. He was home—finally, permanently. On the long flight back from Afghanistan he’d been dreaming of this arrival.
For most Australians, December meant the beginning of the long summer holidays and Joe had looked forward to downing a cold beer at sunset in a bar overlooking the beach, and sitting on the sand, eating hot, crunchy fish and chips straight from the paper they were wrapped in, throwing the scraps to the seagulls.
This evening he’d done all of these things, but the expected sense of joy and relaxation hadn’t followed. Everything had felt strangely unreal.
It was unsettling, especially as his Commando training had taught him to adapt quickly to different environments and to respond effectively to any challenges.
Now he was home, in the safest and most welcoming of environments, and yet he felt detached and disconnected, as if he was standing on the outside, watching some stranger trying to enjoy himself.
Of course, he knew that the transition to civilian life would be tricky after years of strict training and dangerous combat. At least he’d been prepared for the Happy Family scenes at the airport today, but once he’d escaped those jubilant reunions he’d expected to be fine.
Instead he felt numb and deflated, as if nothing about this new life was real.
He stared at the crescent of pale sand below, silvery in the moonlight, at the rolling breakers and white foam spraying against the dark, rocky cliffs, and he half-wished he had new orders to obey and a dangerous mission to fulfil.
When his phone buzzed, he didn’t have the heart to answer it but, out of habit, he checked the caller ID.
It was Ellie.
His gut tightened.
He hadn’t expected her to call so soon, but perhaps she’d seen the TV news and she knew he was back in Sydney. No doubt she wanted to talk, to make arrangements.
His breathing went shallow as hope and dread warred inside him. Was he ready for this conversation?
It was tempting to let her call go through to voicemail, to see what she had to say and respond later. But in the last half-second he gave in. He swallowed to clear his throat. ‘Hi, Ellie.’
‘Oh? Hello, Joe.’
They’d spoken a handful of times in the past three years.
‘How are you?’ Joe grimaced, knowing how awkward he sounded. ‘How’s the kid?’
‘We’re both really well, thanks. Jacko’s growing so fast. How are you?’
What could he say? ‘Fine. Home in one piece.’
‘It must be wonderful to be back in Australia for good,’ she said warmly.
‘Yeah, I guess.’ Too late he realised he should have sounded more enthusiastic.
‘I...ah...’ Now, it was Ellie who seemed to be floundering for words.
They weren’t good at this. How could they be? An unhappy silence ticked by.
‘I hear you’ve had a very dry year up north,’ Joe said, clumsily picking up the ball.
‘We have, but the weather bureau’s predicting a decent wet season.’
‘Well, that’s good news.’
Joe pictured Karinya, the Far North Queensland cattle station that he and Ellie had leased and set up together when they’d first been married and afloat on love and hope and a thousand happy dreams. In his mind’s eye, he could see the red dirt of the inland and the pale, sparse grass dotted with cattle, the rocky ridges and winding creeks. The wide blue overarching sky.
When they’d split, Ellie had stubbornly insisted on staying up there and running the place on her own. Even when the much-longed-for baby had arrived she’d stayed on, hiring a manager at first while she was pregnant, and then a nanny to help with the baby while Ellie continued to look after the cattle business as well as her son.
His son. Their son.
‘Joe, I assume you want to see Jacko,’ Ellie said quickly.
He gritted his teeth against the sudden whack of emotion. There’d been opportunities to visit North Queensland between his many missions, but he’d only seen their miracle baby once. He’d flown to Townsville and Ellie had driven in to the coast from Karinya. They’d spent an awkward afternoon in a park on Townsville’s Strand and Joe had a photo in his wallet to prove it.
Now the kid was two years old.
‘Of course I’d like to see Jacko,’ he said cautiously. How could a father not want to