Mars. ‘You hate the cold.’
‘I hated the cold. I’m not that Rob any more.’
She thought about that for a moment while the stillness of the night intensified. The smell of the smoke was all-consuming but...it was okay. It was a mist around them, enveloping them in a weird kind of intimacy.
Rob in the snow at Christmas.
Without her.
Rob in a life without her.
It was odd, she thought numbly. She’d been in a sort of limbo since the accident, a weird, desolate space where time seemed to stand still. There was no future and no past, simply the piles of legal contracts she had in front of her. When she’d had her family, her work had been important. When she hadn’t, her work was everything.
But, meanwhile, Rob had been doing...other stuff. Skiing in Aspen.
‘Are you any good?’ she asked inconsequentially and she heard him smile.
‘At first, ludicrous. A couple of guys from work asked me to go with them. I spent my first time on the nursery slopes, watching three-year-olds zoom around me. But I’ve improved. I pretty much threw my heart and soul into it.’
‘Even on Christmas Day?’
‘On Christmas Day I pretty much have the slopes to myself. I ski my butt off, to the point where I sleep.’
‘Without nightmares?’
‘There are always nightmares, Jules,’ he said gently. ‘Always. But you learn to live around them.’
‘But this Christmas—you didn’t go to Aspen?’
‘My clients finished the house to die for in the Adelaide Hills. They were having a Christmas Eve party. My sister asked me to join her tribe for Christmas today. I’d decided...well, I’d decided it was time to stay home. Time to move on.’
Without me? She didn’t say it. It was mean and unfair. She’d decided on this desolate existence. Rob was free to move on as best he could.
But...but...
He was right here, in front of her. Rob. Her beloved Rob, who she’d turned away from. She could have helped...
Or she could have destroyed him.
He reached out and touched her cheek, a feather touch, and the sensation sent shivers through her body. Her Rob.
‘Hell, Julie, how do we move on from this?’ His voice was grave. Compassionate. Loving?
‘I don’t know,’ she whispered. ‘I can’t think how to escape this fog.’
There was a moment’s hesitation and then his voice changed. ‘Escape,’ he said bitterly. ‘Is that what you want? Do you think Amina was escaping by coming here?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Well, I do,’ he said roughly, almost angrily. ‘She wasn’t escaping. She was regrouping. Figuring out how badly she and her family had been wounded, and how to survive. And look at her. After all she’s been through, back she goes, to her memories, to talking about the ones she loves. You know why I wasn’t going to Aspen this Christmas? Because I’ve finally figured it out. I’ve finally figured that’s what I want, Jules. I want to be able to talk about Aiden and Christopher without hurting. Call it a Christmas list if you want, my Santa wish, but that wish has been with me for four years. Every day I wake up and I want the same thing. I want people to talk of Christopher and Aiden like Amina does of her family. I want to admit that Christopher bugged me when he whined for sweets. I want to remember that Aiden never wanted me to go the bathroom by myself. I want to be able to say that you sometimes took all the bedcovers...’
‘I did not!’
‘And the one time I got really pissed off and pinned them to my side of the bed you ripped them. You did, too.’
‘Rob!’
‘Don’t sound so outraged.’ But then he gave a rueful smile and shrugged. ‘Actually, that’s okay. Outrage is good. Anything’s good apart from silence. Or fog. We’ve been living with silence for years. Does it have to go on for ever?’
‘I’m...safe where I am.’
‘Because no one talks about Aiden or Christopher? Or me. Do they talk about me, Julie, or am I as dead to you as the boys are?’
‘If they did talk...it hurts.’
But he was still angry. Relentless. The gentle, compassionate Rob was gone. ‘Do you remember the first time we climbed this mountain?’ he demanded, and he grabbed her hand and hauled her round so she was facing out to where the smoke-shrouded mountain lay beyond the darkened bush. ‘Mount Bundoon. You were so unfit. It was mean of me to make you walk, but you wanted to come.’
‘I only did it because I was besotted with you.’
‘And I only made you come because I wanted you to see. Because I knew it was worth it. Because I knew you’d think it was worth it.’ His hand was still holding hers, firm and strong. ‘So you struggled up the track and I helped you...’
‘You pushed. You bullied!’
‘So I did and you got blisters on blisters and we hadn’t taken enough water and we were idiots.’
‘And then we reached the top,’ she said, remembering.
‘Yeah,’ he said in satisfaction and hauled her against him. ‘We reached the top and we looked out over the gorge and it’s the most beautiful place in the whole world. Only gained through blisters.’
‘Rob...’
‘And what do you remember now?’ he demanded, rough again. ‘Blisters?’
‘No.’
‘So? Does my saying Aiden’s name, Christopher’s name, my name—does it hurt so much you can’t reach the top? Because you know what I reckon, Jules? I reckon that saying Aiden’s name and Christopher’s, and talking of them to each other, that’s the top. That’s what we ought to aim for. If we could start loving the boys again...together...could we do that, Jules? Not just now? Not just for Christmas? For ever?’
And she wanted to. With every nerve in her body she wanted to.
‘Do you know what I’ve done every Christmas?’ he asked, gently now, holding her, but there was something implacable about his voice, something that said he was about to say something that would hurt. ‘And every birthday. And so many times in between...I’ve taken that damned recording out and watched it. And you know what? I love it. I love that I have it. I love that my kids—and my Julie—can still make me smile.’
‘You...you have it?’ She was stammering. ‘But tonight...I had to find the disc.’
‘That’s because tonight had to be your choice. I have a copy. Jules, I’ve made my choice. I’m living on, with my kids, with my memories and I’ve figured that’s
