Catherine Jinks TheRoad (72 page)

‘Peter.’

Peter jumped. Noel had stuck his head around the corner of the caravan. He apologised for frightening his son, though not for disturbing Rosie – who hadn’t even noticed him, so intent was she on drawing up another grid.

‘We’re going to have lunch now. Mum wants you all to wash your hands,’ said Noel.

‘Lunch? Now?’

‘An early lunch,’ Noel amended. ‘Del’s brought some bread and butter and things, so we’ll be able to have sandwiches.’

‘And then what?’ Peter inquired, straightening. He looked his father in the eye. ‘What are we going to do after that?’

Noel hesitated. After a moment he gently took Peter’s arm and led him back around the corner, out of Rosie’s hearing.

‘I know you must be worried,’ Noel began, quietly. ‘It’s a very odd situation.’

‘Are we going back to that place? Where the people were shot?’

Noel raised his eyebrows. He glanced quickly over his shoulder, before turning back to Peter and shaking his head.

‘No,’ he replied. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘Dad, could we be in a temporal loop of some kind? Could it have something to do with UFOs? Or – like – some kind of government research? A secret research facility?’

Noel blinked. ‘UFOs?’ he repeated. ‘Oh ...well...’ He uttered a breathy little laugh, but he looked hunted. Peter knew that look. It was the same look he always saw on his father’s face when Noel was in a hurry, or when he was trying to avoid plunging into some hugely complicated explanation. ‘I don’t think so, Peter . . .’

‘Then what is it, do you think? What’s happening?’

‘I’m not sure.’ The caravan lurched – signalling that someone (probably Verlie) had climbed into it – and Noel pulled away from its swaying wall. ‘What we’ve decided to do is find a road that leads off the highway, and see if it takes us to another property,’ he said. ‘Not Thorndale, obviously, but some place where we might find a working phone. Since we can’t seem to get to Broken Hill, or Mildura –’

‘You mean all of us?
All
of us will do that?’

‘I don’t know.’ Noel ran a hand through his hair. ‘It’s awkward, because we don’t have our car. We’ll have to see what everyone else decides. What the petrol situation is. That kind of thing.’