“Did they?”
“I asked them to, but no, I found out later they didn’t go. Sergeant Dwyer normally stamps it out before too long, but he wasn’t around, and no one else did.”
“Sounds like Naomi’s pretty keen to see the party stopped altogether.”
“She is. She’ll get her way, too, just watch,” Gemma predicted. “You’ve met her, have you?”
“This morning. She’s Henry’s godmother.”
“That’s right, of course. She’s a great choice. A lot of fun, very smart, too.” Gemma sipped her water. “And you’ve met Shane as well?”
“Yeah. I knew who he was already, though. My dad and I followed the footy. We saw him play in a grand final years ago. Great day. Amazing game. He was incredible.”
Gemma nodded. “So I’ve heard. I was always at uni or in the States, but the others used to go and watch him when they could. Charlie and Kim, Naomi. My parents as well, they were big fans. They were at that grand final, too.”
“Oh yeah?” Falk said. “Are they still around?”
“They live in Stirling now, near my older sister and her three girls. So not too far. What about your dad?”
“No, he died a while ago. He would’ve loved to have met Shane, though.”
Gemma smiled. “Dads do love meeting Shane.”
“You know, he would’ve really liked all this as well.” Falk shifted in his chair to look back at the grounds. The sounds and the lights and the aroma of food and wine had sparked a memory Falk hadn’t known he’d had.
“The festival?” she asked.
“Yeah. We had sheep at our place back home, but once, when I was about fourteen, we had to transport some to Clyde, which was a couple of hours away.” He paused to let the memory rise to the surface and take shape. “They had this local produce festival on—nothing as good as this, much smaller—but we spent the rest of the day there and it was pretty fun. Then the whole drive home I remember Dad going on about how someone should set up something like that in Kiewarra. Diversify, attract visitors to the region. He reckoned people would love it. That it would breathe life back into the town.”
Falk couldn’t believe he’d forgotten this.
“It was funny,” he said. “He was so keen that for a minute I thought he was about to park in front of the council offices and roll up his sleeves and demand the permit forms or whatever. He didn’t, obviously. I mean, he had to work so hard at our place he didn’t have time for anything else, but he never stopped bringing it up, either. We only lived in Kiewarra for a couple of more years, and every autumn we’d make that trip out to Clyde and check out the festival and bring home some organic cheese or whatever. So, yeah.” Falk smiled to himself as he remembered. “He would have really enjoyed this. Maybe even more than Shane.”
“Well, that is high praise.” Gemma grinned. “It’s nice that you and your dad were close.”
“Oh.” Falk blinked, the memory suddenly blurring a little. “No. We weren’t, really. Unfortunately.”
“No? Oh.” Gemma seemed genuinely surprised. “Sorry. It just sounded like you were. Going together to the festivals and the footy or whatever. And you obviously got how Joel was feeling down there tonight with his dad’s plaque.”
“Anyone would understand that, though,” Falk said.
“They really don’t.” Gemma shook her head. “That stupid vandalism shows they don’t.”
Falk didn’t reply, but found himself thinking about what she’d said. He’d never considered himself and his dad in that light, but the way Gemma had said it made it feel … what? Sort of true. Maybe.
The phone buzzed again on the table between them, and Gemma leaned forward and tapped the screen.
“Oh, well. All good things…，” she said with a rueful smile. “That’s me summoned, I’m afraid. Issues at the Chardonnay Revival tent.”
“Right. No worries.” Falk tried not to sound disappointed as he drained his glass and pulled himself out of his chair. “Far be it from me to hold up chardonnay’s comeback. Is that really a thing, by the way?”
“Oh my God, yes. Absolutely it is. What is it they say? Wait long enough, and everything comes around again.” Gemma paused. She was looking at Falk in a way that reminded him a little bit of Melbourne. “Speaking of which, it’s been nice to see you.”
“Yeah. You, too, Gemma.”
She was poised to go but still didn’t move. Above, the lanterns shone in the dark, and the soft beat of music floated over from a distant stage. The sounds of crowds were all around them, but outside the caravan, they were alone.
“Listen—”
“I—”
They both stopped. Gemma smiled, and her eyes fell to her phone, silent in her hand. Falk could tell from her face that she was considering something. What, exactly, he wasn’t sure, but when she looked up again, she seemed a little awkward.
“Aaron, I wanted to explain, about last year.”
“You really don’t have to.”
“I know, but I want to. Because I had a really nice time with you—back then, and again just now—” She shifted her weight but didn’t come any closer. “And when you asked for my number in Melbourne, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to see where things could go.” She gave a small shrug. “I just think it’s pretty obvious where that would be.”
“Is it?” Falk was genuinely surprised.
“Yeah. It really is.” Gemma looked at him in the low light. “I mean, tell me, what does that diary of yours look like?”
He pictured it. The pages were creased and thick with meetings, appointments, reminders, deadlines.
“Busy, right?” She read his face. “It has to be, with the kind of job you do. Seven days a week, probably?”
She waited as though hoping Falk might contradict her, but he had to nod.
“So, what happens?” Gemma said. “We exchange numbers, and then what? Even with the best will in the world, we’re not going to be chalking up regular visits and three-day long weekends. Realistically.”
“We could try.” He wanted to, he realized. He would actually try. “Give it a go.”
“Yeah, true. We could,” she said. “But say it actually works. Then what? The long-term situation’s even worse. You’ve worked hard to get where you are. I have, too. I don’t want to leave here. And last I heard, Marralee’s a long way from an AFP hub.”
“Well, yeah. Okay. But—”
Gemma waited. Falk tried to think of an answer to that. He couldn’t.
“Ten years or so ago—” she said, when it was clear he wasn’t going to go on. Her voice softened. “Look, Aaron, I wouldn’t have been saying any of this when I was younger. You wanted my number back then, you would have gotten it, no question. But that’s not where I am now. And I’ve got Joel to think about, too. So I don’t know exactly what the right relationship looks like, but I know it’s not an interstate romance. It’s just not, I’m sorry.”