The Keeper by Rosanne Hawke Page A

My head’s starting to clear but I hang onto the red-brown feeling inside; it’s stronger than me. Dev should shout at me, tell me to sit down – I could sink us. I’ll be ready when he does . . .
    But I’m not ready, not for Dev’s quiet voice – no menace, no Ms-Colby-you-lost-it-again; just ‘That’s not why I came.’
    I should shout at him but I’m never sure, when people go calm. It’s like they take a pressure valve off. What’s he mean? That’s not why he came? Why did he then? I don’t dare ask. It’s too close, I might hear the truth and I’m sure I’m not going to like it. No one ever comes for me. What was I thinking of? Letting my guard down like that? The horses are kicking their heels now, happy they’ve done some damage. My face is screwed up into my Al Capone scowl as I sit down as far away from Dev as I can manage in the confines of the boat.
    Funny thing, Dev keeps quietly sitting, picks up his rod again, but the fishing trip’s over. Even he can see that. He reels in the line; both of mine too. I pretend not to notice, as he leans over to half-fill the bucket again and picks up the fish. All this without glancing at me. And I try not to give a stuff.
    At the old jetty I help pull the boat in, onto the trailer, but I still don’t say anything. Some things go too deep. Besides, it’s all over now. Dev can keep the fish too.
    It’s when I turn to go that Dev calls me. I almost don’t stop, bugger him. I stand still for just a second, considering, but it’s long enough for Dev to start talking.
    â€˜Mate, I’ll tell you why I came.’ Well, whoopi-do. I feel as hard as a lighthouse inside, all shut up. I let Dev have the full effect of what that feeling looks like on my face. Let him tell me then. What do I care?
    Dev’s playing with his goatee, glancing up at me on the slope. For a second I think he’s scared. Nah. I make a movement to go and Dev rushes in.
    â€˜I had a kid once.’ Then he pauses. ‘It was my fault he died.’
    I stand my ground. Yeah, tough, but it’s got nothing to do with me.
    â€˜I just wanted a second chance. Then I heard about the ad. Mate, it was for you I came.’ Dev’s actually looking sad. Big deal – it’s not for me he’s sad, it’s for that other kid. Second best. I’m always second best. Dev makes some movement with his arm then, and I’m out of there fast.
    It’s later, on my bed, when I think about it some more. I think about what Dev called out as I rushed off. ‘Don’t shut me out. We need each other. ’ Do we really? I need a dad, sure. That’s obvious, but does Dev need me? And why? I want it to be because he cares, not because of some mistake he’s made. What about Rogue’s Point? I reckon he cared then. And tonight – Dev didn’t have to tell me all that, did he? It’s weird, like Dev’s finally let me look inside the box. But why?
    There’s not much point thinking about it any more. How’s Dev going to like me anyway after today?

Mei
    I saw Joel and Dev Eagle today. On old Mr Billings’ boat. They didn’t look too pally. I hope Joel doesn’t get his dream squashed too quick. He always gets so excited over something and then it doesn’t take long to wear thin. It’s like he sees things a different colour to everyone else until his eyes start to focus. I mean, who in their right mind would do half the stuff Joel does? And what if Dev gets on the wrong side of him? Even though Joel comes across like he’s daring you to treat him bad, he doesn’t want it really.
    I think his gran lets a bit slide. I do too really because I see this other side of him that no one else does. His eyes aren’t always hard and expressionless; when he looks at me they aren’t anyway. Sometimes I just try to keep him happy – he’s so cool