Sunlit Shadow Dance (45 page)

“
If Belle had asked him to take
her somewhere he would have driven her a thousand miles without
seeking a reason. But, when Belle died, he lost his hope in
goodness. Then when he killed Josie he lost his soul. So, for him,
it was as if Amanda was a test of himself, proof he was a being
without a soul, someone who deserved his own fate of always killing
what he loved.

“
When it was done he felt more
relief than remorse, glad to have put her aside. Only after her
death could he feel enough tenderness to wish kindness to her in
another life.

“
Even though he tried to find a
part of his humanity again with Cathy and Susan, from then on there
was always a devil on his shoulder, waiting to bring him down. I
think, after that day with Josie, his guilt was so great he almost
wished for it to happen. The flowers were his way of saying sorry,
giving something he knew she loved to try and take away his guilt.
She felt his love but he could not accept her forgiveness. So
nothing could undo that day.

“
I think, if I had talked to him
on the day he died, and asked if there was one thing from his life
he would have chosen to have undone it would have been that shot
that brought Josie down.”

Vic paused for a breath, having exhausted
his words. He had never spoken as much before as he did now, as his
mind had grasped for reasons to make sense of his friend. He
expected to see just Alan and David sitting there. Instead, as he
looked up he saw he was ringed by a circle of all of his friends.
They were all listening and nodding. Cathy sat beside him and took
his hand.

“
Thank you Vic. In him I saw a
good man tormented by his past. For years, since I left him, I have
myself those questions you answered. With each new discovery I have
asked them, again and again.

“
I have asked myself, time and
again, Why? Why? Why? Why could not the past stay in the past? Why
could he not let his life move on? For a night or two he tried when
I loved him, but the devil was always there.

“
Even though I knew he would not
harm me, a damaged person like he was, I knew he would damage
others; it was self hatred that drove him.

“
I tried to give him hope but he
could not let himself believe it. I was not strong enough to hold
him and bring him through the pain. So I made myself leave him even
though I felt torn in two as I did.

“
Until tonight I have never
understood why. Now I do and for that I thank you. Susan got closer
than me in bringing him through the pain, she offered acceptance
with no conditions. But he could not do himself the kindness to
accept her offer. Instead he fled from her to his devil the only
way he knew.

“
In that last day Susan gave him
the same kindness he gave to Belle, a quick and kind ending. She
since has lived with that devil of recrimination. Now she too must
learn self forgiveness.”

Vic spoke again, “It is not
only for Susan
, now Jane. I was his friend, yet chose to be blind to the
things he did. I put my hands over my eyes, and looked the other
way. When it was tearing my wife’s mind apart, I chose to hate him
for what he had done. Only now, when I see the price that he paid,
can I begin to look at him in understanding. So I now must
reconcile myself to the ghost of his passing and the harm he has
done.”

David said, “While I never knew
him, today I walked a mile in his shoes. Far too long he has
haunted my life and Anne’s life, as with you
, Alan and Sandy, and you Cathy
and Jacob too.”

Cathy nodded, “Perhaps tomorrow it is
Belle who can bring us to the place where we truly forgive Mark for
all the evil he has done, while still remembering the goodness of
the man who was once my friend.”

Next morning they flew to
Kunnunurra, fuel
led up to maximum fuel and took on two more passengers, a
local aboriginal policewoman, Jessie, who was a traditional owner
of the place to which they were going, and Isabelle’s father. He
had flown from France to be here with them when they searched for
his daughter’s things. As there was no suggestion they would find a
body there was no need for a pathologist’s attendance, today was
about recovering the personal effects of a person the NT coroner
had already found was deceased, a finding with which the Western
Australian coroner had agreed.

So they had a full load with
extra fuel and ten people
aboard and, as they got airborne, Vic could feel
the load in his big machine. The weight would burn off as he burnt
fuel on the trip north.

For an hour the helicopter flew
north, north-west over a rough and broken land
. It was a place of red and
brown mountains which raised their fractured heads to the sky.
Between scarps narrow gorges plunged, giving glimpses of green
trees fringing pools of water and places of yellow sand.

As they flew Cathy thought about her Uncle
and all that had passed with him. The note told of how Mark had
tracked him down in Oman, already in hiding, as the police were
looking for him over other child sex charges.

Mark
said he had taken him out to
Rub al Khali, otherwise known as the Empty
Quarter. Mark gave an approximate place but that was
all.

Mark’s note
said he had talked to her Uncle there and told him what he knew,
how he had raped and abused his two nieces and how one had killed
herself because of him. He said he had since found out this man had
done similar to other girls as well. So he deemed his life forfeit
as payment.

Mark wrote, “I
told him I should use my knife on him for what he done; cut away
the parts that had hurt little girls. But I did not. I gave him a
choice, to go to the English police while I watched on, and tell of
all he had done, or to stay here and take his chances. I told him
there was no water here, none for two hundred miles and no one ever
came here. He said he preferred to stay here, perhaps he thought he
could cheat death. I knew he could not.

“
I left him with a bottle of whiskey and a tablet that would
end it. I drove away and came back to Australia. His bones are out
in the Empty Quarter of the Arabian Desert. I do not know
where.”

It was not as
Cathy would have done it but she could feel it was justice, better
justice than a court could ever have given. At first she and Jacob
had thought of going there, but there was no point. Whatever was
done was finished three years past. There was nothing to gain in
driving through an empty desert. If, by a miracle, he had survived
she knew that none would ever see him again. And she knew, the way
Mark had done, it survival was not an option, his only choice a
kinder death. That was how Mark saw justice. After all the people
her uncle had harmed she could not disagree. Now, when she balanced
it all up, her main feeling was relief.

So she left his memory behind and looked up. Half an hour
had
passed,
now she glimpsed and then saw a blue line on a smoky horizon, then
the line became the place where the sea met the sky. She hoped
there was more joy in this place than where her mind had
been.

They came to
the coast at a
place where sheer red cliffs met an azure sparkling sea. Vic
matched this place to his GPS and map and turned further west,
following the turns of the coast as it twisted and plunged. Fifteen
minutes later he saw a headland overlooking a little bay, shaped
into a half circle. It looked right. He came in closer to see it
better.

Mi
d-point of the cliff circle he saw a
small waterfall that fell to ocean, its spray all a glisten. Behind
the waterfall lay a clear pool of water, and rising up behind it
were other broken rocky hills. Wheel tracks wended their way near
the side of the cliff and then vanished into the green grey scrub
behind.

He knew this was it, the place of his map,
the place which the custodians of this land called Wallaby Dove
Pool, a place from where these first spirits had come out from this
water and joined the land. Now, each evening, their descendants
came to drink. It was the place that Mark called Crystal
Creek.

Vic brought the helicopter to
rest and sat in it for a minute while the turbines wound down.
He
handed
the map to Alan, saying, “Perhaps you should go first with Jessie
to look. Then the rest of us will come.”

Alan and Jessie nodded and walked away.

Five minutes later Alan waved
them over. Jessie held a small brass object
in her fingers, a twenty two
rifle shell, found lying near the cliff side in a place where the
rock had broken away.

“
It must be this place, just
round from the waterfall, from which she fell,” he said, pointing
to the ground.

They looked for other
signs
; there
was an old blackened fireplace, unused in years. It was a long time
since any had camped here, perhaps the last was them. They checked
the hillside behind, looking for caves and rock
crevices.

At last they found it, an entrance
overgrown by shrubs. It was a crevice in the rock, two meters long
and half a meter high. It had been filled with stones so nothing
could enter it except, perhaps; a small mouse. As they cleared away
stones they saw the neck of a guitar with a backpack beside
it.

Alan lifted the guitar out and
passed it to Belle’s father. He took it, hands
shaking
, he
knew it was hers, a present of her family when fifteen years
old.

He handled it lovingly and
strummed a few chords then he passed it to others with a wistful
sigh.
He
opened the pack; its contents neatly folded inside and still
dry.

He shook out a shirt,
“It is from the
local market in our home village,” he said with a tear in his eye.
Inside the shirt was a diary, only small notebook size. He took it
and opened it and read it aloud.

“
J'ai passé un moment
merveilleux. Je suis
enchanté avec cette homme. Cette nuit nous somme
devenir amants.
Aujourd'hui je suis
extatique. Il
est un bon homme.
Même si on ne se revoit
jamais, je ne t'oublierai jamais”

“
This morning I sang him one of my favourite songs – Piaf is
perfect for a day when I am in love. I sang it first in English
then in French, then the last verse again in English. The French is
far more beautiful as befits my beautiful man.”

Then
her father picked up the guitar and played it by ear, singing the
words as she might have sung them.

No,
nothing at all,

No,
I don't regret anything!

Neither the good that's been done to me,

Nor
the bad;

It's
all the same to me!

Non,
rien de rien

Non,
je ne regrette rien

Ni
le bien qu'on m'a fait

Ni
le mal; tout ça m'est bien égal !

Non,
rien de rien

Non,
je ne regrette rien

C'est payé, balayé, oublié

Je
me fous du passé !

Avec
mes souvenirs

J'ai
allumé le feu

Mes
chagrins, mes plaisirs

Je
n'ai plus besoin d'eux !

Balayées les amours

Et
tous leurs tremolos

Balayés pour toujours

Je
repars à zéro

Non,
rien de rien

Non,
je ne regrette rien

Ni
le bien qu'on m'a fait

Ni
le mal; tout ça m'est bien égal !

Non,
rien de rien

Non,
je ne regrette rien

Car
ma vie, car mes joies

Aujourd'hui, ça commence avec toi

No,
nothing at all,

No,
I don't regret anything!

Because my life,

because my joy,

today

begins with you!

When he had finished he was too emotional to
speak and they all had tears in their eyes. He walked to the edge
of the cliff and flung the guitar into the sky, watching as it
slowly fell to the water below, saying,

“
It belongs here with her,
may she always hear its sweet music.”

Jane
walked over to the helicopter and
took out a small bottle. It was the last container of Mark’s ashes.
At first she thought to fling it to the place where the guitar had
gone, but then she remembered her charge, as Susan, from
him.

So she unscrewed the lid, took
out a pinch and
, with all the love she could bring to her mind, tossed
this dust of the man into the air, her mind hoping that some part
of it would mingle together with whatever life essence remained
here of Belle. She passed it around and the others did the
same.