They’d only been out together a few times. The Friday night session at the local hotel was an obvious choice. It was a small town pub where the twenty-something-year-olds went. They both had friends there and enjoyed the company until late that night. After saying their goodbyes they headed off in Terry’s Ute for the forty-minute drive to Ali’s place.
“Slow down a bit... You sure you haven’t had too much to drink?” Ali asked as she gripped her seat belt.
“I’m fine, had plenty of softies through the night,” Terry replied, stretching his arms out straight - holding the steering wheel tight in both hands.
The night was black with a cloud covered sky refusing to allow through any semblance of light. The headlights of Terry’s car strained to reveal the roadway ahead. The ghostly patches of bush on each side of the country road flashed by as Terry ignored Ali’s plea to slow down.
“Terry!” Ali screamed. Suddenly the illuminated grey road bitumen in front of them disappeared. The car ploughed straight ahead as the road curved right. A flashing glimpse of long grass in the headlights – thumping bumping uncontrolled fear – then the sickening jolting impact with the tree stopped the wild ride.
The emergency vehicle arrived just after daylight to find the severely injured Ali unresponsive in the front seat and Terry sitting dazed beside the wrecked vehicle. The shredded gum tree was embedded in the front passenger side, with the twisted metal wrapped around it like soft clay.
A month since the accident and Terry had relived that night many times... day and night. Ali’s older brother Dan had openly accused him of causing her death. Dan could be violent – Terry had seen him in action before at the hotel. Terry had heard that Dan was looking for him. He closed his social media and thought about turning his phone off. The best option, Terry thought, was to disappear for a while - let it all settle down – country communities could be unforgiving.
This place was the haven he desperately needed. The small holiday cottage was owned by his father and was always in use by someone in the family. The isolated cliff top position provided stunning ocean and coastal views. Kelly’s lookout was almost directly opposite the cottage and provided a perfect vantage point for sightseers. The waves crashing onto the jagged black rocks fifty metres below were an exhilarating spectacle. The pathway tracing the cliff edge was only metres from the cottage front fence and eventually found its way down to the beachside village.
Terry stood on the front veranda gazing seawards, the pulsing evening breeze cooling his face. He had always found the isolation and natural beauty of this place soothing and he desperately needed that feeling now. He’d only been here two nights and had finished his alcohol supply. His mood had darkened, his drinking was not helping and he had decided to avoid contact with friends and family.
He turned to go back inside the cottage when an old man walking slowly with the aid of cane appeared along the pathway at the front of the cottage. “Hello,” he called out. “Is Bill Denison here?” Terry turned back to face him. “No, I’m here on my own. I’m his son Terry”.
“Right... I know your Dad. Just wanted to check you weren’t a squatter or something.” The old man had a neatly trimmed grey beard and was well dressed in long sleeve shirt, jeans, and Panama hat. “My name’s Ted, I live down in the village. I walk up here... you know, for exercise.”
“Yeah, it’s a good walk and a fantastic view. We love it here. Don’t see many people. You come up often?” Terry thought he should be sociable with the locals.
“Yeah, couple of times a week. That’s how I know your Dad. We’d have a chat from time to time when he was here – lovely bloke - how is he?” Ted asked as he leaned against his cane.
“He’s fine – he’ll be back here in December for a couple of weeks.”
“Great, look forward to catching up.”
Ted was about to turn away when Terry saw an opportunity and asked. “Say, would you be able to get something for me from the village?”
“Sure, what do you need?” Ted asked.
“Can you get a bottle of scotch from the hotel - anything around $50 is fine. I’ll get some cash” Terry said turning towards the door.
“Pay me when I come back,” Ted paused for a moment. “Is that all you need?”
“Yep, that’s it, thank you I really appreciate it,” Terry replied.
The inquisitive expression on Ted’s face prompted Terry to elaborate. “I came up here for some rest and relaxation and a bit of quiet time, to chill out. So I’m avoiding the village,” Terry explained with a smile.
“Yeah, we all need that sometimes. Ok, see you about this time tomorrow,” Ted chirped, turned and shuffled off back to the path.
For the last two nights at the cottage, Terry’s companion had been Johnny Walker. Tonight he was alone and his mind was continually drawn back to the accident. The TV only provided a brief distraction and he switched it off. He sat back in the recliner chair and closed his eyes. The thought that he was in serious danger at the hands of Ali’s brother, was haunting - that day at Ali’s funeral – the deadly stony expression on Dan’s face – those searing words, hissed through clenched teeth, I’m coming for you – I’m going to kill you, you bastard.
Terry was contemplating going down tonight to the village hotel rather than wait for Ted tomorrow when he heard a bumping noise on the front veranda. He body tensed – couldn’t be Dan – how could he have found him – Terry’s Dad was the only one who knew. Three sharp knocks at the door catapulted Terry from his chair. He went to the door and slowly turned the handle – slowly pulled – and peered through the pencil-thin opening.
“Ted... what are you doing here?” Terry said smiling with obvious relief.
“Thought you might be wanting this tonight,” Ted said holding a brown paper bottle sized bag in front of him.
“Ted, you’re a lifesaver – come in.”
“I wasn’t going to stay,” Ted said.
“You have to have one with me now, c’mon’” Terry insisted opening the door wide.
“Well... ok, maybe one... thanks,” Ted went inside.
Terry poured Ted a scotch and ice at his request and one for himself. He gave Ted cash for the scotch. They sat opposite each other, Ted on the sofa and Terry in the recliner.
“I got the impression that you enjoy a drink. You don’t want to overdo it though – not good for you.” Ted said with a concerned tone.
Terry could see his Dad saying the same thing. “Yeah, I know, I’m doing some medicating.”
“You ok?” Ted asked, “You looked a bit tense earlier.”
“Sure, I’m ok,” Terry said, thinking the old man was perceptive. “Had some drama with friends – upset some people.”
“You can’t please everyone,” Ted said as he took a timid sip from his glass.
Terry had finished his drink and was up refilling. “You’re right, sometimes things get out of control.”
“You have to do your own controlling Terry. There’s no reason that things happen – no divine plan.”
Terry returned to his recliner with a full glass wondering if he was about to hear Ted’s philosophy on life.
“Five years ago this month, my wife Dana, had a severe stroke. She was still alive – but she wasn’t Dana. That woman was the most gentle, considerate woman you could find.” Ted’s previous cheery disposition had disappeared completely. “Do you think there was a reason for that – course there wasn’t – or for all the horrible events in the world. We can only control the things we are able to. My poor Dana got worse and I decided that we should let her go – you know – turn of the life support.” Ted looked up with glistening eyes. “That was a difficult decision – but the right one.”
“Geez Ted, I’m really sorry,” Terry said softly.
“I came to terms with what happened... and I’m ok.” Ted paused and took another sip. “What about you – sure you’re alright?”
“No, I’m not sure,” The way Ted had revealed his private life and feelings prompted Terry talk. “I was involved in an accident. I was driving a girl home from the pub when we went off the road and hit a tree. She was killed.”
“Was she your girlfriend?” Ted asked.
“No, only knew her for a couple of weeks,” he replied.
“I can see why you’re feeling down. The trauma of accidents can cause a lot of problems,” Ted said.
“Yeah well, the girl – name’s Ali – has an older brother who reckons it was my fault. He said he wants to kill me.” Terry lifted his glass and took a gulp.
“He’s probably just saying that Terry - emotional, just lost his sister - doesn’t really mean it,” Ted said
“He means it alright. He solves his problems with violence.”
“Why does he say it’s your fault? Were you drunk? Ted asked.
“I wasn’t charged with anything. Dan made up his own mind because he saw me drinking at the pub,” Terry said.
“Ok, so you were drinking, but not enough to be over the limit when police got there?”
“Yes, but there’s more to it,” Terry said. “After we hit the tree and I was dazed, had a few cuts and bruises, Ali was beside me all smashed up. The tree hit her side. I got out of the car and sat there. It was around 2 am - I sat there, and I waited until daylight before I called emergency.”
“What! Why did you do that?” Ted asked sharply.
“So the booze would wear off. Figured it didn’t matter – Ali was dead.”
“How do you know she was dead?” Ted asked tersely.
“There was blood everywhere in the car, she must have been. I couldn’t even look.” Terry said looking at Ted to gauge the response.
Ted had a look of distaste. “You haven’t told anyone about this.”
“Only you,”
“This is weighing on your mind?” Ted asked.
“Mainly worried that Ali’s brother is coming after me - he’s a nut case.”
“Why did you tell me?” Ted asked.
“Not sure Ted, needed to unload some baggage I guess,” he replied.
“I’m glad you told me,” Ted said as he sat motionless, without expression.
The loud knock startled them. “Who the hell...” Terry mumbled as he strode over to the door and teased the window curtain aside. “Oh shit, it’s him. How’d he find me?” Terry whispered. “Ted its Ali’s brother. Can you help?
“Go into the bedroom, I’ll look after it,”
Terry hustled into the adjoining bedroom and Ted stepped to the door and waited until Terry had disappeared. Ted opened the door to see a tall wiry looking young man with a severe haircut standing in the doorway. He was holding a short metal bar in his right hand.
“Hello Uncle Ted is he here?” he said.
“He’s in the bedroom, Dan. I believe Kelley’s lookout is the best option.”