It took him a while to remove the flowers from the garden by the water feature in front of the Dolphin Haven without being seen, and had to dig a sheet of plastic out of one of the skips down the side of the Captain’s Trove eatery, but soon James had a passable bunch of flowers for a pair of newlyweds.

He easily assumed the demeanour of the confused delivery boy. He even invented an imaginary annoyed mother who was waiting outside in an imaginary van, angry at him for losing the imaginary delivery note, which was the imaginary reason they were trying all the hotel foyers looking for actual newlyweds, Mr and Mrs Tony Brandt.

When the first bellboy put his head down and went through the guest notes, James knew it was just a matter of time.

Nineteen 2005

NINETEEN
2005

James realised he’d left two trays of unwrapped sandwiches from Tony’s wake in the boot of the hire car; but as Kippen’s church spire and silos diminished in the rear-vision mirror, he shrugged and laughed to himself.

Tony’s car was clunky, and, if the gauge was accurate, the fuel tank was low, but James didn’t care. He wanted to cover some ground, and the long, straight road allowed him to accelerate wildly towards Wishaw, where he’d refuel.

Farmland quickly surrendered to woody ridges with old gum trees as neglected as pensioners. A couple of dry creek beds took the Ford into parched gullies, where long shadows were already spreading.

He was cresting a hill, the road turning to the right, when the mob of roos descended.

One tumbled across the bonnet, tail clipping the windscreen before it shot into the long grass. Another switched back insanely to avoid a collision, sending James into a long skid to the right. The carton of beer slammed into the back of the front seats, throwing some of its contents against the dashboard. He over-adjusted steering to the left, where another roo dodged him and leaped into the ditch at the side of the road, before he brought the car to a standstill at an awkward angle in the middle of the road, facing back towards Kippen. At least one of the beers had broken open and was dribbling onto the carpet.

James pulled the bottle free as he got out to inspect, nostrils immediately filling with the scent of burned rubber. The surface of the bonnet was buckled, and there was a diagonal crack across the windscreen.

Shadows from roadside trees covered him and the car, but the roos were in the full blaze of the sun, settled after the panic and seeking out fresh shoots of grass. A large male lifted itself and flicked its ears.

A car suddenly rounded the bend and had to swerve to avoid James. Its penetrating skid seemed to predict another collision, but it shuddered to a halt just behind the Ford.