Catherine Jinks TheRoad (52 page)

‘Sorry.’

‘Why’s everybody lookin at
me
cross-eyed?’ Alec complained. ‘I had nothin to do with this! It’s not
my
fault we’ve hit
The X Files
, and now you all think I shot someone? Gimme a break!’

‘What do you mean,
The X Files
?’

Alec clammed up suddenly.

‘Eh?’ he replied, in an evasive manner.

‘You just mentioned
The X Files
. Do you think this is like something out of
The X Files
?’

‘Oh, jeez, I dunno.’ Alec began to walk away, but Peter followed him, asking questions.

‘I used to watch
The X Files
. Why do you think this is like
The X Files
? What episode are you talking about?’

‘Peter!’ It was Linda. She was guiding a sleepy-eyed, shuffling Louise, while Noel carried Rosie. ‘Come and help set up these beds, please!’

‘I’m coming,’ said Peter, before turning back to Alec. ‘Do you think something
paranormal
is going on? Is that what you think?’

‘Peter!’

‘I’m
coming
!’

‘Do what your mum says,’ Alec suggested, and ducked into the Ford like a rabbit escaping down a drainpipe. Foiled, Peter had no choice but to follow his parents. He would have liked to question Alec further. He had a feeling – he had
always
had a feeling – that Alec knew more than he was willing to share.

Was it just that he didn’t want to talk about the mysterious shooting, or was it something else?

Though it seemed unlikely, Peter sensed that Alec might be the one person, among all the people in their little group, who would not automatically dismiss Peter’s growing suspicion that they were stuck on a kind of treadmill, like characters in an old cartoon, passing the same stretch of roadside (two trees, one rock, two trees, one rock) over and over and over again.

erlie slept very poorly that night, though she did sleep in her own bed. Linda had refused to eject her from the caravan, insisting instead that Peter and Louise lie on cushions and doonas disposed around its floor. Linda herself shared a bed with Rosie, and Ross laid claim to the back seat of his sedan. So no one was forced to sleep sitting up, like some unfortunate airline pas
senger in economy class, and Verlie should have enjoyed at least four or five hours of undisturbed slumber.

But she didn’t. She was far too conscious of all the strange bodies occupying the space normally reserved for herself and Ross alone. The children’s heavy breathing, their rustles and moans, kept jerking her awake. What’s more, she was cold. Her supply of bedclothes had been stretched too thinly, for the caravan contained only limited storage space, and the temperature dropped as the hours passed. If the heater had been turned on they would have been quite comfortable, but of course there was no power supply. There wasn’t even a light. Linda and Verlie had both agreed that leaving the kerosene lamp burning was far too dangerous. As a result, a dense blackness enfolded them, and Verlie was afraid even to get up and empty her bladder in case she accidentally stepped on one of the children. For someone whose pelvic floor muscles weren’t strong (owing to the fact that she had given birth three times) a long wait for relief was always difficult. Little wonder that she slept only fitfully.

When dawn finally came – and with it a pearly light that seeped into the caravan like gas – Verlie was able to rise and go to the toilet without injuring anyone. Modesty had decreed that she wear, not her pyjamas, but a fleecy-lined tracksuit to bed, and in this (plus a silk scarf and pair of sheepskin slippers) she judged herself sufficiently presentable to leave the caravan and seek out her husband, who had probably slept no better than she. Ross, she knew, was fussy in his habits. He liked clean clothes, a daily shower, a neatly made bed. He would compromise his comfort only so far; hence the fact that he had never taken his children camping, nor allowed them access to his north shore ensuite during that sacred half-hour in the morning when he was preparing for the day. He had very specific requirements as to inner springs and pillows, and Verlie was sure that the back seat of their car would have afforded him little comfort.