‘You even ruined dinner.’ He emptied his full plate into the fire and reached for his wine glass. The food Alice had managed to get down sat in her stomach like cold stone. She put her plate to the side, let Pip finish her dinner.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered. She rubbed her knee against his. ‘I’m so sorry.’
He stared into the fire, unresponsive.
She kept apologising, for hours it seemed, until, finally, he lifted his hand and ran it up the inside of her leg.
It took her most of that night and the rest of the next day, but by the time they were driving home to Kililpitjara, Alice’s efforts to be as calming and compliant as she could seemed to have brought Dylan back to her.
As they pulled into his driveway, he leaned over to kiss her before leaping out to open the gates. When his back was turned Alice winced; she had chafing and bruises from their lovemaking in the gorge. He’d been rougher than usual, but now, to her great relief, they seemed back to normal.
As they unpacked the car, Dylan paused to kiss her tenderly. ‘Thanks for a mostly beautiful weekend.’ He searched her eyes with his.
Alice kissed him gratefully. She’d just have to be more careful in future. She’d have to be mindful before she spoke.
Spring painted the central desert in a paint box of colours. The honey grevillea flowered in masses of amber and yellow, filling the air with its thick, sweet scent. Lounges of bearded dragon lizards sunned themselves between clumps of spinifex. Alice’s veggie garden at Dylan’s began to sprout. The afternoons grew warm enough for ice cream and sunbathing; she lay on a beach towel on the red dirt in his yard, humming along with the music in her headphones while she read a book, until he spotted her in her bikini. He was as hungry for her as ever. Her misstep on their camping weekend was long forgotten. The days grew longer, the stars shone brighter.
‘We should have a barbecue,’ she suggested one night as she fried up sweet chilli tofu and tossed a green salad for dinner. ‘The house is looking so good, and it’s gorgeous out there by the fire pit with the honey grevillea in bloom.’
Dylan didn’t respond. He was sitting at the dining table. Under the glare of the kitchen lights she couldn’t read his face.
‘Babe?’ she asked as she lifted the frying pan off the heat.
‘Sure,’ he replied. ‘Sounds great.’
‘Great,’ she chirped, as she carried their plates to the table. ‘I’ll put feelers out at work tomorrow.’ She kissed him, and sat down for dinner. He smiled wordlessly in reply.
The next morning, Alice pulled up at headquarters full of excitement. She and Dylan had been so wrapped up in each other, it would be good for them to engage a bit more with their small community.
When she walked into the staff office, it was almost too easy. Thugger and Nicko, two rangers Alice didn’t know very well, were standing together, moaning about not having anything to do on their upcoming weekend off.
‘Why don’t you fellas come ’round for a barbecue?’ Alice chipped in.
‘Hey, thanks, mate,’ Thugger said.
‘Yeah, cool.’ Nicko nodded.
‘Sorted,’ Alice said, grinning. ‘We’ll get the fire pit at Dylan’s going and he’ll set up the skillet for a chargrilled feast. We can —’
‘Oh,’ Thugger interjected, glancing at Nicko. ‘You know what, Alice? I just remembered, I’ve actually gotta head up to the Bluff this weekend. I’m, um —’
‘That’s right,’ Nicko interjected. ‘Shit, mate, we nearly forgot. We’re gunna get our fourbies serviced.’
Alice glanced back and forth between them. It was as if she was watching a pantomime.
‘Close call,’ Thugger said, visibly relieved. ‘Lucky you reminded us, Alice!’
‘Another time, mate,’ Nicko said apologetically.
‘Thanks for the invite though,’ Thugger called as they hurried out of the office.
After they’d gone, Alice made herself a cup of tea. Clenched her jaw. She would not cry. She would not overthink what had just happened.
Her day didn’t improve. Later, she made constant mistakes out in the field, culminating in whacking her thumb with a hammer and crumpling in agony.
‘Head back to HQ and get that seen to, Alice.’ Thugger dismissed her from duty.
Once she’d been cleared by the first aid officer, Alice went into the tea room for a sweet biscuit and cup of tea. Her heart sank; Lulu and Aiden were standing at the boiler, talking, mugs in hand. As soon as Alice walked in, they stopped. She went to the cupboard where the teabags were kept, turning her back on them. The totality of their silence weighed on her.
Aiden was the first to speak. ‘You okay, Alice?’
Before she had the chance to answer, Lulu pointedly emptied her mug in the sink and left. Aiden glanced helplessly at Alice, then followed.
‘I’m fine,’ Alice said in a near whisper to herself, watching them go.
The next few days unravelled in a similar way: Alice mentioned the idea of a get-together at Dylan’s to other workmates, but the responses were nothing more than flimsy excuses. Dylan didn’t ask about the barbecue, and Alice didn’t bring it up again. By the end of the week, she’d come to realise that although he was everyone’s acquaintance, Dylan didn’t have any real friends at Kililpitjara. He had her. Only her. And she couldn’t understand why.
When she pulled into his driveway after work and got out to open the gate, Alice recalled one of the books Dylan had read to her, a collection of Japanese fairytales. In one, a woman artist practised kintsugi, repairing broken pottery with lacquer mixed with powdered gold. There’d been an illustration of a woman bent over a pile of broken pottery pieces, laid out to fit together, with a fine paintbrush in her hand, its bristles dipped in gold. It had enchanted Alice, the idea that breakage and repair were part of the story, not something to be disdained or disguised.
She drove up to park behind Dylan’s ute. Slammed the door with renewed determination. Whatever it was that made him feel he wasn’t good enough, whatever reason people had for not wanting to spend time with him, wherever he thought he was broken, Alice would just melt herself like gold, and fix it.
A few days later, the Earnshaw Crater Resort sent invitations to its annual Bush Ball to all touring companies and park staff.
Dylan had been dismissive when Alice suggested they go along. ‘It’s just a massive piss-up,’ he said with a sneer.
‘Yeah, but it’ll still be fun to go together, right?’ she said, excited, sticking her invitation under a magnet on his fridge. They hadn’t been to a party since her birthday. She’d been coveting a gold silk dress she’d found online; the thought of having an excuse to get dressed up made her giddy. As did the two of them having a reason to get out and see everyone socially.
‘You really want to go?’ Dylan said behind her, interrupting her thoughts.
She turned. ‘I really do. It’ll be so good to have a few drinks, a bit of a dance.’ Alice wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her hips to his. ‘Get a bit drunk,’ she said teasingly, reaching on tiptoes to kiss his neck, ‘and make it count when we see the sun rise.’ She decided then and there she’d surprise him with her new dress. Do her hair specially. Wear lipstick, and that perfume of hers he loved. ‘We can make a date of it,’ she said, looking up at him.
‘You wanna be my date, Pinta-Pinta?’ His eyes clouded with desire.
‘Always,’ she replied, squealing as he lifted her up and carried her to bed. It was going to be great, she told herself. It was going to be the best night they’d had together in ages.