as an accompaniment to this grim thought, an explosion sounded outside, too close for comfort. Through the hut’s window Joe saw bright flashes and smoke, heard frantic voices calling. Another rocket-propelled grenade had dumped—a timely reminder that danger and death were his regular companions.
There was no escaping that and, if he was honest, there was absolutely no point in going over and over this question of Ellie’s. It was a waste of time weighing up the pros and cons of his wife’s request.
Already Joe knew his answer. It was a clear no-brainer.
Three years later...
‘ELLIE, IT’S MUM. Do you have the television on?’
‘Television?’ Ellie’s response was incredulous. ‘Mum, I’ve just come in from the paddocks. Our dams are drying out. I’ve been wrestling with a bogged cow all afternoon and I’m covered in mud. Why? What’s on TV?’ The only show that interested Ellie these days was the weather.
‘I just saw Joe,’ her mother said.
Ellie gasped. ‘On TV?’
‘Yes, darling. On the news.’
‘He...he hasn’t been hurt?’
‘No, no, he’s fine.’ There was a dismissive note in her mother’s voice, a familiar reminder that she’d never approved of her daughter’s choice of husband and that, eventually, she’d been proved right. ‘You know he’s home for good this time?’
‘He’s already back in Australia?’
‘Yes, Ellie. His regiment or squadron or whatever it’s called has just landed in Sydney. I caught it on the early news, and there was a glimpse of Joe. Only a few seconds, mind you, but it was definitely him. And the reporter’s saying these troops won’t be going back to Afghanistan. I thought you should know.’
‘OK. Thanks.’ Ellie pressed a hand to her chest, caught out by the unexpected thud of her heart.
‘You might be able to catch the story on one of the other channels.’
‘Yes, I guess.’
Ellie was trembling as she hung up. Of course she’d heard the news reports about a staged withdrawal of Australian troops, but it was still a shock to know that Joe was already home. For good this time.
As a Commando, Joe had been on dozens of short-term missions to Afghanistan, returning each time to his Army base down in New South Wales. But now he wouldn’t be going back.
And yet he hadn’t made any kind of contact.
It showed how very far apart they’d drifted.
Almost fearfully, Ellie glanced at the silent blank TV screen in the corner of the homestead lounge room. She didn’t really have time to turn it on. She was disgustingly muddy after her tussle in the dam with the bogged cow and she needed to get out of these stinking clothes. She wasn’t even sure why she’d rushed inside to answer the phone in this filthy state, but some instinct had sent her running.
She should get changed and showered before she did anything else. She wouldn’t even look for Nina and Jacko until she was clean.
But, even as she told herself what she should do, Ellie picked up the remote. More than one channel would cover the return.
It took a few seconds of scrolling before she found a scene at Mascot Airport and a journalist’s voiceover reporting an emotional welcome for the returning troops.
The screen showed the airport crowded with soldiers in uniform, hugging their wives and lifting their children high, their tanned, lean faces lit by unmistakable excitement and emotion.
Tears and happy smiles abounded. A grinning young man was awkwardly holding a tiny baby. A little girl hugged her daddy’s khaki-clad knee, trying to catch his attention while he kissed her mother.
Ellie’s throat ached. The scene was crammed with images of family joy. Tears pricked her eyes and she wondered where Joe was.
And then she saw him.
The man who would soon be her ex.
At the back of the crowd. Grim-faced. He was skirting the scenes of elated families, as if he was trying to keep out of camera range while he made his way purposefully to the exit.
He looked so alone.
With his green Commando’s beret set rakishly on his short dark hair, Joe looked so tall and soldierly. Handsome, of course. But, compared with his laughing, happy comrades, he also looked very severe. And so very alone.
Ellie’s mouth twisted out of shape. Tears spilled. She didn’t know why—she simply couldn’t help it.
Then the camera shifted to a politician who’d arrived to welcome the troops.
Quickly, she snapped the remote and the images vanished.
She let out her breath in a despairing huff. She felt shaken at seeing Joe again after so long. To her dismay, it had been more like a horse kick to her heart.
She drew a deeper calming breath, knowing she had to set unhelpful sentimentality aside. She’d been braced for Joe’s return and she’d known what was required.
Their divorce would be finalised now and it was time to be sensible and stoic. She knew very well there was no prospect of a happy reunion. She and Joe had made each other too miserable for too long. If she was honest, she wasn’t surprised that Joe hadn’t bothered to tell her his deployment was over. She didn’t mind really.
But she did mind that he hadn’t even asked to see Jacko.
* * *
Joe stood at the motel window on Sydney’s Coogee Beach, looking out at an idyllic moonlit scene of sea cliffs and rolling surf.
So, it was over. He was home—finally, permanently. On the long flight back from Afghanistan he’d been dreaming of this arrival.
For most Australians, December meant the beginning of the long summer holidays and Joe had looked forward to downing a cold beer at sunset in a bar overlooking the beach, and sitting on the sand, eating hot, crunchy fish and chips straight from the paper they were wrapped in, throwing the scraps to the seagulls.
This evening he’d done all of these things, but the expected sense of joy and relaxation hadn’t followed. Everything had felt strangely unreal.
It was unsettling, especially as his Commando training had taught him to adapt quickly to different environments and to respond effectively to any challenges.
Now he was home, in the safest and most welcoming of environments, and yet he felt detached and disconnected, as if he was standing on the outside, watching some stranger trying to enjoy himself.
Of course, he knew that the transition to civilian life would be tricky after years
