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Authors: Nicki Edwards

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BOOK: The Peppercorn Project
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Chapter 30

The following weekend Matt woke early as the sun rose in the pale blue eastern sky. Expectation bubbled in his chest. The weather forecast for the next twenty-four hours promised to be perfect. It was the first weekend of the summer school holidays and he was taking a group of four boys on the promised overnight mountain bike adventure. Isabelle had tried to argue that it was too close to Christmas, that it was going to be too hot, that it was a total fire ban, and that the trails were too dangerous, but Matt waved away every one of her flimsy excuses like they were pesky flies.

The club he’d formed had turned out to be an excellent idea, although not as essential as first thought. The issue of theft at the school had resolved as quickly as it had begun. Rachel had found one of the culprits – a younger boy, used to being the centre of attention among his classmates. With the arrival of the new kids in town he’d felt threatened. Rachel nipped things in the bud, and as far as Matt knew there’d been no further problems at the school. Everyone had his or her belongings returned, and peace reigned once more in Rachel’s domain.

If only he could say the same for the rumblings among the locals about drugs still coming into town. He’d questioned every single person who was at the cricket that night and their stories matched. No one knew the guy who’d offered them drugs. They all agreed he was in his twenties and was well spoken and well dressed. No one knew him, which meant he had to be coming in from outside of town. Someone mentioned they saw an expensive-looking car parked down at the oval one night, but that didn’t mean anything.

Matt tried to focus his mind elsewhere, and it drifted to Isabelle. All he could think of was how sad she had looked when she’d returned from Geelong the previous Sunday night. She’d been understandably upset that Mietta had been sick, but very grateful for his care. He’d caught up with her during the week and she’d looked like something deep inside her was broken. Everything in him wanted to fix it, but he couldn’t. She had to do it herself. He might not be able to help Isabelle yet, but he could help Fletcher.

He attached his bike to the roof racks and drove to Isabelle’s house. Fletcher waited on the front step with his bag at his feet, his bike leaning against the front fence, and his face lit with a massive grin. There was no sign of Isabelle, but Matt caught a glimpse of her bedroom curtain falling into place. He smiled. She would have been waiting for him to arrive, but giving Fletcher the space he craved. Matt pictured her inside, watching him, wearing her short little pyjamas. The imprinted memory of hugging her tiny body through the thin cotton refused to budge. He shook his head to remove the image, despite wanting to keep it there forever.

‘Morning, Fletch! Is your mum awake?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Is she coming out to say goodbye?’

Fletcher rolled his eyes. ‘Nah. That’d be embarrassing.’

‘Don’t be stupid. Go and get her.’

A moment later Isabelle appeared. As Matt had correctly guessed, she wore the short pyjama pants that barely covered her backside, and a T-shirt that did nothing to hide the curves of her petite figure. An ache formed low in his gut as he watched Fletcher awkwardly hug her goodbye. Matt desperately wanted to hug her too. Instead, he waved from a distance and kept himself busy loading Fletcher’s bike onto the top of his car.

‘Morning, Issie!’

She gave him a little wave and her shirt lifted, showing a tanned and toned waist. ‘Hi Matt. What time do you expect to be back tomorrow?’

He forced his brain to think straight. ‘Around five, or earlier. I’ll have my phone with me, so if there’s a change in plans I’ll let you know.’

‘Take care of him, won’t you?’

He pulled a sad puppy face. ‘Don’t you trust me?’

She cocked her head. ‘Have you already forgotten last weekend? Last time you looked after one of my kids they got sick,’ she said with a laugh.

‘I promise nothing will happen.’

‘It better not.’

Fletcher rolled his eyes and Matt stifled the urge to do the same thing just to stir her. He checked his watch. ‘Come on, mate, let’s get going. We’re meeting the others in half an hour.’

He waited until Fletcher was in the car before he made a quick decision, turned, and strode back to Isabelle. He had to touch her. He had to hold her. He had to say goodbye properly.

Finding her hands, he entwined their fingers and squeezed lightly. What he really wanted to do was hold her in his arms and never let her go.

‘Fletcher’ll be fine, I promise,’ he repeated. He kissed her gently on the cheek, loving the way her skin felt soft against his lips, loving the way her fruity perfume clung to her body. If she had turned her head a fraction of an inch to the right, his lips would have found hers. But then he would have been a goner.

*

The drive wasn’t far – less than twenty minutes – but Matt wanted to be there before the other kids were dropped off by their parents. Their starting point was Bartagunya, a property outside Melrose. The owners had caught onto the mountain bike craze early and catered for both horse riders and mountain bikers. A new trail had recently opened, one that Matt was yet to ride. One of his mates from Adelaide had, and raved about it. Matt couldn’t wait to get going.

As a kid not much older than Fletcher, Matt had discovered a love of riding and all it entailed – nature and dirt and tranquillity and adrenalin – and he was thrilled to have the opportunity to share his passion with Fletcher. The trails around Mount Remarkable were the stuff of dreams. Matt’s only hope was that the other boys would enjoy it as much as he did – otherwise, he was in for twenty-four long hours of whinging.

During December they’d been on plenty of training rides, and Fletcher had managed the less difficult trails with ease. As Matt suspected, his surfing and skateboarding experience made him a natural on the bike. Fletcher possessed no fear, and the thrill in his voice as he launched his bike over pointy rock reefs and coasted the contours of the trails made it clear to Matt that Fletcher loved riding as much as he did. He’d warned Fletcher right from the outset that mountain biking would get under his skin, and if his early morning energy was any indication, it already had. As they headed towards the mountain he chatted non-stop, the most animated Matt had seen him. The sad expression he’d worn when he first arrived in Stony Creek was completely gone.

They soon pulled up in a dusty carpark under ancient river gums, not far from the property where they’d start their first ride As Matt took the bikes off the overhead rack he heard the roar of diesel engines, and two four-wheel drives arrived in tandem, both with bikes on board. The other boys had arrived. They chattered excitedly as Matt gave maps and details of their planned routes to the parents.

He was keen to get moving. After checking everyone’s bikes and gear, with a wave to the parents they were off. As a warm-up, Matt started them on an easy track before they tackled steeper trails. He also stopped regularly to dish out drinks and snacks, remembering how at the same age he’d had hollow legs too.

As they rushed past ancient river red gums, and through empty creek beds, the sound of laughing boys and kookaburras filled Matt’s ears. They headed down the hill past bemused wallaroos and around rabbit warrens, blasting through the scree, over a massive fallen log, around a big gum tree, back down into the valley and past the dried bones of a big red kangaroo. The looks flashing across the boys’ faces made Matt grin – part terror, part exhilaration.

It was an adrenaline-charged yet tiring first day, and Matt was pleased when they coasted back to the car a little before five o’clock. The boys had gained a huge amount of confidence, with most of them attempting bigger jumps than they usually would have. He was proud of them all.

Over dinner they chatted enthusiastically about the day. Matt sat back against a fallen log and listened to their stories, which he imagined would get bigger and more exaggerated when they got home.

*

At dawn, Matt rose and dressed quickly, watched by a mob of grey kangaroos that had ventured out in the early stillness. The last ride of the day was a long drop back towards Melrose. He planned on getting them all safely back to the campsite by two o’clock, and back in Stony Creek before four.

The final obstacle was where they came undone.

Fletcher went first and Matt tensed. ‘Slow down!’

But it was too late.

Fletcher’s handlebars nicked the side of a tree and he over-corrected, trying to stop from tumbling down the steep cliff edge. Looking down, he missed another tree, which was dead straight in his path. He hit it head-on and toppled sideways from his bike, over the handlebars. His left hand took the full weight of his fall, and he landed screaming in pain. Matt’s stomach clenched and he thought he was going to be sick. He was already reaching for his phone and dialling Alison as he pedalled towards Fletcher, who was clutching his left arm, his face white. By the deformed shape of his wrist, Matt knew the bone was broken.

They were both in big trouble.

Chapter 31

‘Slow down,’ Isabelle screamed as Leah rounded another bend in the dusty gravel road.

While she was desperate to get to Fletcher as quickly as possible, she also wanted to arrive alive. Isabelle had been reading a book when the call came that almost caused her heart to stop. There had been an accident.

‘Relax,’ Leah commanded. ‘I know these roads like the back of my hand and I’ve driven them much faster than this.’

Isabelle clung to the bar mounted on the dash as a wave of carsickness washed over her. They travelled another ten minutes in silence, Isabelle locked in fear. What sort of parents let their kids out here alone? Then Isabelle remembered. She was one of ‘those’ parents. One of those parents who didn’t wrap their kids in cotton wool, one of those parents who let them go off on an adventure with their mates. Still, she was furious with Matt. Obviously, the trails were more dangerous than he’d led her to believe. If she’d just said ‘no’, Fletcher wouldn’t be lying hurt somewhere on the mountain right now.

Hunched forward in her seat, Leah clutched the steering wheel with both hands, her eyes scanning the road. ‘Can you see anyone yet?’ Her tone suggested she was as anxious as Isabelle was.

Isabelle shook her head. ‘Nothing. Didn’t Matt say he’d put someone out on the main road?’

‘We’ve still got a few more Ks to go,’ Leah answered.

Another wave of nausea assailed Isabelle but she fought it down. A cold sweat broke out and a tight band constricted her chest. The corrugated gravel road jarred all her senses. She scanned the bush for any sign they were close. Finally, a small cluster of boys in bright clothing caught her attention. ‘There they are!’

Leah’s left hand deftly changed gears and the car slowed, skidding as they came to a rough stop beside the group. Bikes lay strewn in the scrub. Isabelle wound down her window and a cloud of dust blew into the car. She coughed.

One of the boys pointed wildly. ‘Through there!’

Isabelle squinted towards the hill at the thick bush. It didn’t seem possible a car would make it up the track, but Leah was already revving the engine and reversing. Another rider appeared at Leah’s window. Isabelle saw the anxiety on his face and fear shot through her again.

‘Go straight up the fire trail,’ he said, his voice breaking slightly, either from testosterone or nerves. ‘Sergeant Robertson said he’ll hear you coming and come out to meet you.’

‘You’ll never fit up there!’ Isabelle cried out.

‘Watch me.’ Leah thrust forward her jaw. ‘This is a four-wheel drive, Issie, and we’re about to go bush bashing.’

‘But how will we find them?’

‘Trust me, okay?’ Leah said, sternly. ‘And trust Matt.’

*

Fletcher grimaced, his face flushed and sweaty. ‘What’s taking them so long?’

‘Ah, mate,’ Matt said, trying to sound offhand. Fletcher was trying to be brave, but he needed pain relief, urgent medical attention, and his mum. ‘You know what women are like. They’ll be driving at the speed limit and chatting non-stop.’ He’d hoped to make Fletcher laugh, but he wasn’t successful.

‘I hope Leah’s not letting Mum navigate or they’re bound to get lost.’

Fletcher clamped his lips together and shut his eyes, but the tears still formed. Matt gently eased the bike helmet off his head, glad the injury was only to an arm, and nothing more serious. It didn’t matter. Isabelle would still want to kill him.

Fletcher groaned again. ‘How long has it been since you called them?’

Matt looked at his watch and lied. ‘It’s only been half an hour. They’ll be here soon.’

‘Oh man, it hurts so much,’ he moaned. He stabbed at the ground with his heels.

Matt touched his leg. ‘Leah knows her way around. They only have to look out for the other guys at the bottom of the hill. They won’t miss them, I promise.’

‘How will they get up the hill? These tracks are barely wide enough for bikes, let alone cars.’

‘There’s a fire trail not far away that Leah will be able to use. We’ll hear her coming and I’ll go out to meet her.’

‘But how will I get to the car?’

‘I’ll carry you.’

‘Do you reckon my wrist’s broken or dislocated?’

Matt looked down at Fletcher’s arm. ‘Judging by the look of it and the amount of pain you’re in, I’d say it’s broken.’

‘My fingers have gone a bit numb,’ Fletcher said, his voice filled with fear.

‘You’re doing great, mate, hang in there.’ What else could he say?

‘It hurts so much. Worse than I thought it would.’

‘I’m not surprised.’ Matt had fashioned an impromptu splint, but judging by the tears trailing down Fletcher’s face, the pain hadn’t eased. ‘Hurry up, Leah,’ he muttered.

Fletcher needed Penthrane. Luckily, there was always a supply of the disposable inhalers at the clinic and Leah would have one with her. Known colloquially as a ‘green whistle’, the inhaler was the perfect way to administer analgesia in these sorts of situations. After calling Alison to arrange for Leah to pick up the emergency kit, Matt had called the doctor on duty in Booleroo to let him know Fletcher had a suspected broken arm. Then he’d called Leah. Matt decided it was better if Isabelle heard the news from her. If he’d called Isabelle first, she would have rushed straight out in a blind panic to find them. Leah would have the sense to take things slowly and calmly and not get lost in the bush on the way.

‘I’ve never broken a bone before,’ Fletcher said.

‘That surprises me.’

‘Why?’

‘With all your surfing and skating I would have expected you’d have broken something.’

‘Nah.’ He pulled a face as he shifted position in the dirt. ‘Do you reckon I’ll get a cast?’

‘I’d say so,’ Matt confirmed. ‘But it might need surgery. They might even need to airlift you to Adelaide, but we won’t know until we have it X-rayed.’ He saw the look on Fletcher’s face and kicked himself. ‘I’m sure it’s a simple break, mate. As soon as you get some pain relief, we’ll get you to the doctor. Try not to worry, okay?’

Matt glanced again at his watch. It had only been twenty-five minutes since he’d called Leah. By the time she swung past the clinic, then picked up Isabelle, it would take about an hour to get here. He still had a lot of talking to do to keep Fletcher’s mind off the pain.

‘Do you reckon your mum’s going to be mad?’ he asked.

‘Oh you have no idea,’ Fletcher said. ‘She’ll be madder than a cut snake.’

‘With me or you?’

‘Both of us. She used to go off at Dad all the time about keeping me safe.’

‘And
did
he keep you safe?’

Fletcher leaned his head back against the tree and closed his eyes. ‘I was always safe, but Dad used to push me to the limit because he didn’t want me to become a cotton-wool kid. My earliest memories are of him teaching me to surf. Lucky Mum never saw some of the stuff we got up to – she would have had a fit.’

‘Do you miss surfing? It must be hard living so far away from the beach.’

Fletcher shook his head vehemently. ‘I’m never going to surf again.’

Matt saw the agony etched across Fletcher’s face. He sensed it was a different pain to that in his arm. ‘Never is a long time, mate.’

Fletcher didn’t reply and Matt decided not to push him further. He kept up a one-sided conversation until he heard the strain of Leah’s four-wheel drive as it struggled its way up the steep slope. His heart cheered. ‘That’ll be them. I’ll go and let her know where we are.’

Fletcher nodded but he looked worried.

Matt stopped. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘What if there’s snakes?’ he asked, his eyes darting around the scrub.

‘Coming from a kid who once surfed in an ocean full of sharks, you’re worried about snakes? Bang a stick on the ground and they’ll stay away, trust me.’

Matt jogged off in the direction of the fire trail, hoping his upbeat comment was enough to keep Fletcher’s mind off his pain. He’d be fine, but Matt had his work cut out for him. He needed to convince Isabelle the same thing.

*

Isabelle jumped out of Leah’s still-moving car and launched herself at Matt, pummelling his chest with her fists while he held out his hands to deflect her blows. ‘I trusted you!’

Leah stepped between them. ‘How about we go and get Fletcher,’ she suggested.

Isabelle dropped her arms and followed Matt the short distance to where Fletcher sat, his back against a tree. As soon as Isabelle caught sight of him, she raced over, calling his name.

‘Chill out, Mum, I’m okay.’

She saw pain flash cross Fletcher’s pale face. ‘You’re not okay, you could have
died
.’

‘It’s just a broken arm, Issie,’ Matt said.

‘How
dare
you say “just” a broken arm? What if he’d broken his back or hit his head? Did you consider
that
?’ Isabelle knelt down beside her son as her nurse brain kicked into gear. ‘Can you feel me touching your fingers? Can you wriggle them? Any tingling or numbness?’ With each question, her voice rose. ‘There might be nerve damage or something.’ Her eyes flicked from Fletcher to Matt. ‘We’ll have to take him to Booleroo and get him checked out properly.’

‘Matt’s already checked me out.’

‘Since when is Matt medically trained?’ Isabelle bit out.


Mum
!’

‘Isabelle,’ Leah said firmly, ‘listen to yourself. Stop for a minute and look at your son. Fletcher is safe. He’s okay.
Look.

Isabelle sat back on her heels and let out a huff of frustration. Leah was right. Fletcher looked comfortable, despite the sheen of sweat coating his face. Matt had splinted and loosely bandaged his arm. He may even have done a better job than she might have managed in the circumstances.

Fletcher looked sheepish. ‘I’m all right, Mum. It wasn’t Matt’s fault.’ ‘I attempted a jump I wasn’t ready for. Matt told me to slow down, but I didn’t listen. I hit the handlebars against the tree and came down.’

‘Leah, can you pass me the bag, please?’ Matt asked.

Isabelle watched as he pulled a small brown vial and the green plastic ‘whistle’ from the bag. He tipped the contents of the vial into the inhaler and swirled it around.

‘Righto, Fletch, put this in your mouth, and take deep breaths in through your mouth and out through your nose.’

‘Cool,’ he said after he’d inhaled deeply a number of times. ‘It’s like on
Bondi Rescue
!’

‘How’s the pain now?’ he asked a few minutes later.

‘Better,’ Fletcher said. ‘But it feels weird.’

Isabelle frowned. ‘What do you mean? Your arm feels weird? Your fingers?’

‘Nah, this,’ Fletcher indicated the whistle, holding it up in front of his face. His eyes were slightly glassy. ‘Is this what it feels like to be on drugs?’


Fletcher!’
Isabelle growled.

Matt suppressed a smile. ‘Something like that. You’re doing great, mate. Keep breathing in and out, and I’ll pick you up and take you to Leah’s car.’

‘I’m hearing double,’ Fletcher said, slurring his words as Matt bent to pick him up.

‘What will you do with the bikes?’ Isabelle asked. One bike leaned against a tree – Matt’s obviously. The other one lay in a mangled mess in the scrub. Isabelle felt sick looking at it.

‘Fletcher’s bike can go in the back of Leah’s ute. I’ll ride back to the campsite with the other boys, and meet you at the hospital later, if you like.’

‘I owe you for the damage,’ Isabelle said.

‘You owe me nothing, Isabelle. Nothing.’

Her shoulders slumped. ‘Oh God, I’m so sorry, Matt,’ she said, all her anger gone like the air from a deflated balloon. ‘I know this wasn’t your fault.’

Matt smiled wearily at her. ‘I told you before, Issie – I’ll never intentionally do anything to hurt you or your kids. I promise. You have to trust me.’

‘I’m trying, but you’re not making it easy for me.’

Matt’s shoulder sagged. He refused to meet her gaze. Looking at Fletcher he said, ‘I might have to go back on my word, mate. This is going to hurt.’ He squatted down, getting ready to scoop Fletcher up in his arms. ‘Are you ready? Keep sucking on that whistle. You’re doing great.’

Isabelle watched Fletcher bite his lip to stop from crying out in pain, and it took everything within her not to cry out herself.

She followed Matt through the broken undergrowth back to Leah’s car, and all she could think about was how strong he was, and yet also how gentle.

And how, if she chose to, she really
could
trust him.

BOOK: The Peppercorn Project
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