Page 28

Farewell

JUSTIN

It’s after dark when I hear soft footsteps in the sand outside. I'm bundled up in the sleeping bag for warmth and I try not to move, not to make a sound, holding my breath until I know who's there.

Then a moment later, a whisper. “Justin?”

The air rushes out of me in a woosh of relief.

It’s Axel.

The loose boards creak loudly as they're twisted open, and then Axel is inside and we fall into each other’s arms.

“We’re leaving in the morning,” he whispers. “It’s all sorted.”

I don’t say anything, just hold on tight, the fabric of his shirt fisted in my hands, eyes shut, breathing in the scent of him. It’s soothing, calming. I feel some of the tension flow out of me. My body has been on high alert every moment I've been here alone in the shed. Now my heart rate gradually slows, my muscles ease. It's not until I lose the tension that I realize how tight my muscles have been.

Reluctantly, I draw back. I’ve spent so many months without him, fearing I’d lost him, that I can barely prise my hands off him now, scared to let go, but we have to keep moving.

“We need to take everything. You won’t be coming back here,” Axel says. I’ve already changed into the clothes he brought for me earlier - moving so quietly in case there was anyone around outside - and packed his into one of the bags, so there’s only a few things left to collect: the sleeping bag, the leftover food, the towel, the spare clothes.

When finally I climb out of the musty shed, I draw in a deep breath of the chill night air. It hits my lungs like a shower of icicles. Yes, it’s cold, but it feels wonderful breathing in that fresh air. After the rank, stale air in the boatshed it’s like paradise, not that I could be anything but thankful for the refuge the shed has provided me.

We walk quietly along the foreshore, the sand cool beneath our feet. The moon hasn’t yet risen and it’s dark except for the stars, the lights in some of the houses along the shore, and at the end of the lane, the streetlights casting lonely circles of golden glow.

I thought we’d go straight to his house, but Axel leads me instead to the beach near the laneway. He lays out the beach towel and pulls me down to sit on it beside him.

He speaks in a subdued voice.

“It’ll be a while before we get back to the beach again. Let’s just take a minute to enjoy it.”

We sit there, breathing in the slightly salty air and watching the dark shadows bobbing at their moorings in the water out in front of us. In the distance, we can hear music playing. Further down to our left where the estuary divides into two, we see lights from the distant houses.

Axel puts an arm around me.

“Do you remember that night we went down to the beach on my motorbike? The first time.”

“Yes. Of course. How could I forget that?”

“That was a perfect night,” he says softly.

“Well, it was for me,” I chuckle, remembering. “You kind of missed out.”

“No, I didn’t,” he corrects me gently. “I had you all to myself and we were falling in love. It was a perfect night.”

“You didn’t come.”

“And you know why. I was totally okay with that. Besides you gave me some mental images to think about while I was getting myself off later.”

“Oh, you thought about me then?” It gives me a little thrill to know he was jerking off to thoughts of me. And you know, a little less alone. I'm not the only one.

“Of course.” Axel says it like it’s a given. “Don’t I always?”

I’m glad it’s dark and he can’t see the color rushing into my cheeks. I can feel the heat of it though.

But then a niggling concern scratches at the back of my mind, a judgmental voice trying to intrude on my thoughts. It’s the same critical voice that’s been picking at my self-worth for weeks – my voice, but not my words. I silence it. I will not let them win. I won’t let them steal away my time with Axel. My brows scrunch up tight.

“Are you okay?” There’s a sudden look of concern in Axel’s eyes. “Was that too much?”

“I’m fine.” It’s only half a lie.

“Un-huh.” He sounds skeptical.

“I am, really. Just… there’s a lot of noise in my head. I have to keep shutting it down.”

It’s hard to explain, but Axel seems to understand. He gives my shoulder a squeeze.

“We’ll get you a therapist in Melbourne,” he promises. “That will help.”

I smile gratefully at him, though in the darkness I’m not sure he can see. I lay my head on his shoulder.

“Doesn’t matter what they did to my brain,” I whisper, “I still love you.”

He finds my lips with his, and murmurs “I love you too.”