It was early afternoon when they arrived and the sun beat down, shrouding everything in its dry heat. Brandon could feel its rays on the back of his neck as he got out of the car. The baseball cap he wore was useless against the attack. He’d forgotten how harsh the sun could be up here. Was his old Akubra around somewhere? He didn’t dare ask Darcy if their mother had kept any of his things, but maybe Georgie would know.
He helped carry the groceries inside and breathed a sigh of relief to find the kitchen empty. More people would come, but the break was welcome. Amy wandered in. “Do you want a hand with those?”
Darcy answered. “Yeah. Where are Lara and the others?”
“In the lounge. They’re going through photos to make a slideshow for the funeral.”
He nodded and strode out without a word to Brandon.
Amy started unpacking a bag full of pantry items. “You two still not talking?”
He shook his head, biting his tongue rather than asking her if she had any advice. She’d only been here a few months. How well could she have got to know his family in that time?
“He’ll come around. Darcy’s too nice to hold a grudge.”
Once upon a time Brandon would have agreed with her. Darcy had always been the peacemaker, the most easy-going of them all, happy to do whatever anyone else wanted to do and particularly content when they were on the station. Now he was like a complete stranger.
Amy shifted away from the table at the same time as he moved to put milk in the fridge and they collided, her soft breasts pushing against his chest. The couple of buttons on her polo shirt were undone, giving him a view of her smooth skin underneath. The campgrounds shirt hid her lush figure pressing against him. She glanced up, eyes wide, and the urge to hold her there was strong. They stared at each other and she was the first to lower her gaze and step back. “Sorry.” She detoured around him and he was left missing the warmth of her body.
He shook his head. Get a grip.
They finished packing away the food and Amy put the empty bags in the pantry. He hesitated at the door which led further into the house. Would he be welcome in the lounge? Was he ready to revisit some of the memories the rest of the rooms would contain?
“There are plenty of photo albums to go through,” Amy said from behind him.
He turned and her smile of encouragement hit him right in the gut, but part of him rebelled against it. Who was she to be so comfortable with his family? Darcy had called her family at breakfast. She knew everyone who had visited, all his mother’s habits, and Lara was comfortable with her. But she was still an outsider—
He clenched his teeth. He was the real stranger and the effect on him was deep, disturbing. The coward in him wanted to accept it and move on, but another part, softer, like it was hidden way back in the recesses of his mind, chafed against it. This washisfamily. He might not deserve them, but they were all he had.
He moved into the cool interior and walked into a memory. The paisley carpet in the hallway had been there since he was a child, and the walls of the corridor were a gauntlet of family photos. His footsteps slowed as he reviewed his family’s history. His parents’ wedding photos with both of them beaming, his father wearing a boxy black suit while his mother, with an enormous perm, was in white with gigantic puffs of fabric on her shoulders.
Then came the baby photos, each child as a newborn being cradled by both parents and then with their siblings as the family had grown. The first day of school photos were next. The yellow and brown uniform and over-sized backpack. Charlie and Georgie were grinning in theirs, but Ed and Darcy had tear-streaked faces. His was so serious. He remembered being scared of catching the bus and meeting a whole bunch of strangers. They hadn’t gone into town much when he was young. His mother had her hands full with four kids under the age of six, so any trip had been left until his father was available to help too.
Lara’s photo was there too, beaming, the next generation of Stokes added to the wall.
He moved on to their thirteenth birthday photos. His mother had always made a fuss about them becoming teenagers. Here there were only four photos.
The jolt of pain ripped through his chest. Charlie died only a few weeks before his birthday. He hadn’t had a chance to live. Wouldn’t be in any of the other photos on the wall.
Brandon took a moment to breathe past the nausea and then studied Ed and Georgie’s photos. He hadn’t been there for those birthdays, having left town as soon as he was old enough. They were both smiling proudly. Georgie already had traces of the woman she would become, whereas Ed was still a kid yet to reach puberty.
The final photos were graduation photos; high school graduation as well as Ed and Georgie’s university graduations. He was so proud of both of them for following their hearts, doing what they loved—Ed with his IT stuff that Brandon didn’t really understand, and Georgie with her marine biology. She’d always been more drawn to the ocean than the land. She used to beg him each weekend to take her to the patch of beach which bordered their land. She would have swum for hours if she’d been allowed. Had Darcy taken over that task after Brandon had gone?
So much he didn’t know about his family, and it was his own fault. He hadn’t been brave enough to face them.
Now at the end of the corridor he had no other way to procrastinate. He headed into the lounge. They had enclosed the large fireplace since he’d been away and it now had a door, making it more of a pot belly, and there was a slightly more modern television, but otherwise the room was the same. Long brown couches formed a U shape around the room, big enough to fit all the family. Bookshelves full of books, DVDs and the occasional console game lined the walls. His family sprawled through the room: Ed reclined on the sofa flicking through an album, Lara and Darcy sat side by side while Darcy pointed out who was who in photos, and Georgie was surrounded by loose photos on the floor.
“This is nice.” Georgie handed a photo up to Ed. “This must have been one of our last family photos with Charlie.”
Brandon couldn’t enter the room now, not if they were talking about Charlie. None of them had noticed him yet and he could come back later, or maybe not at all. He shifted, ready to leave when Lara looked up. She gave him a hesitant smile and then turned to Georgie. “What was Uncle Charlie like?”
Crap, he couldn’t leave now. He’d seem like a complete bastard to the young girl.
Georgie groaned in mock pain. “He used to tease me relentlessly and if he caught me, he’d tickle me until I screamed.”
“He was even messier than you, La La,” Ed joked. “We shared a room, and his stuff was always over my side.”
Darcy was silent a little longer, examining the photo. “He was good at everything physical. He’d run circles around me.”
