But this is why it is best to read something in its entirety, not just in pieces.

Either way, it’s never what you think it is.

While Bart relaxed comfortably on his camp-chair eating breakfast, Solway  inspected the tyres. Her legs poked out from under the vehicle like two popsicle sticks and a language he’d never heard before started floating back towards him. Maybe it was time to offer some help.

Snatching the last piece of bacon out of the cooling frypan, he plodded towards her elastic-sided boots. ‘What’s happening?’

‘Very bad things, that’s what.’

‘Do you want me to have a look?’

‘Grab my legs, will you?’

Solway’s voice sounded almost as crispy as the bacon. He shoved it all in his mouth as quickly as possible, looked at his greasy fingers, decided if he was going to wipe them on anything it would be her jeans, not his, and grabbed her legs just above her fuzzy explorer socks. ‘Won’t you get sand in your hair if I drag you out like this?’

‘I honestly don’t care.’

‘Okidoki then.’

Bartholomew Branson was many things, but coordinated was not one of them. His act of pure power, dragging Solway out from under the four wheel drive, ended up with him falling backwards into the native grass on the edge of the track, one of Solway’s feet lodged neatly in his crotch, and hysterical laughter coming from the woman attached to the other end. He smiled happily to himself. This was the sound he always aimed for when it came to Solway. It took a lot to get her to crack a smile, so hearing her laugh made him think that, occasionally, just occasionally, he could do the right thing.

She rose from the sand and started scratching twigs and clumps of dirt from her beautiful blonde locks. Her smile faded almost immediately. ‘I should’ve put on a beanie,’ she muttered.

‘You can’t get everything right.’ Bart rose from the ground himself, just not quite as majestically as she had. ‘What’s wrong with it?’ He nodded at the vehicle.

‘Oh you know. Everything.’ She sighed. ‘No, it’s not that bad. I just had to pull what looked like half a forest out from underneath it, but I blame myself for that one. After all, I was the one who decided we couldn’t wait.’

‘I didn’t try to stop you,’ he reminded her gently.

‘I know, but you know I wouldn’t have listened anyway. The back wheel’s fucked. I wasn’t wrong about that. That branch pierced the sidewall, so it’s not just a puncture. We could patch it up with some duct tape I guess but there’s absolutely no air in it, so even if we got back out to the bitumen, we wouldn’t get very far.’

‘What if we…,’ Bart gazed around at the scenery. ‘Never mind.’

‘What if we what?’

‘Oh I saw this tv show once where the guys filled the tyres up with spinifex just to keep going, but they were in different country to this, and I just can’t see what we could use here.’

‘Sounds like a perfect way to start a fire,’ Solway muttered.

Bart frowned. ‘They stopped driving when the tyres started smoking which, as you know, is a pretty good indicator a fire is about to start — so that didn’t happen, Solway. Look, why I’m arguing with you about a tv show, I don’t know. What I do want to know though, is this. Are you going to let me help you or not.’

She dusted off her jeans, not meeting his gaze. ‘I’ll walk back for help.’

‘What?’ Surely he wasn’t that useless? He’d eaten all the bacon. Now he felt like a piece of toast.

‘I’ll walk back for help. Okay, not back, forwards.’ She turned and pointed eastwards, then traced the air with a finger. ‘This track circles towards the road in a couple of k’s and I can head down that way. I think there’s a siding not too far along, so I’ll probably be able to get someone to help us from there.’

He cleared his throat. ‘Right. Well, that sounds sensible.’ It sounded a lot more sensible than he felt at the moment. 

Sick was how he felt. Sick to the stomach. And, very upset, if truth be told. He’d never felt like bursting into tears before, aside from that time in year five when some kid had stolen his school bag but right now, it seemed like something had just broken in Bart Brand’s soul, and he did not know how to fix it.

‘Not that I know how to fix anything,’ he muttered.

‘Sorry?’

‘Nothing.’ He turned away. ‘Nothing at all. I suppose you want me to stay here and look after our belongings just in case someone turns up, and all that sort of thing.’ He adjusted his jeans. They seemed a little looser, but that was possibly because he’d slept in them all night.

‘Yes please.’

He glanced back as Solway pulled a backpack over the backseat.

‘Could you find me a water bottle, please,’ she asked.

‘Sure,’ Bart said quietly. ‘No problem.’ He headed for the back of the vehicle.

‘Thanks,’ she said.

He didn’t bother answering. He didn’t see the point.