LITMIR.BIZ

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probed the sky as a vehicle came up the steep hill. Jo was still standing beside the driver’s door, and some instinct to protect, perhaps not her specifically but any smaller, weaker person, made Cam pause as the big car topped the rise and turned towards the house.

      A police vehicle, not flashing red and blue lights but its markings made it unmistakeable. Cam felt the sinews tighten in his chest—police, ambulance, fire vehicles, as far as he was concerned, none of them boded good.

      Jo watched Mike Fletcher climb out of his big, official vehicle and felt her stomach clench with anxiety. She was vaguely aware that Cam had moved closer to her, and her body’s reaction was enough to make her straighten up and stride away from him, crossing the carport to meet Mike.

      ‘Trouble?’ she asked, looking at the chunky, handsome man who’d become a good friend in the two years he’d been at the Cove.

      ‘Richard Trent,’ he said, and Jo’s clench of anxiety tightened.

      ‘Jackie and the kids?’ Jo demanded, and Mike put his hand on her shoulder.

      ‘No, they’re fine. Sorry to give you a fright, but Richard called in at the station to report them missing.’

      ‘Tonight? Just now?’

      Mike nodded, then introduced himself to Cam, who’d closed in on her again.

      Protective?

      Jo concentrated on what Mike had come to tell her, about Richard Trent and his reaction in calling the police. Why would Richard have acted so swiftly—indoor cricket would have barely finished and surely calling the police would be a last resort?

      ‘Did he check with any friends or family first?’ she asked Mike. ‘Phone to see if they’d gone there? Not that they have, of course, they’re at the refuge—Lauren would have faxed you.’

      Mike shook his head.

      ‘I couldn’t believe it when I read the fax and I still find it hard to believe. I mean, Richard’s the captain of our indoor cricket team and captain of one of the SES crews—that’s probably why he came to me, because he knows me—but Richard violent? Had he attacked her tonight?’

      ‘Abuse isn’t always violent, and though he might not have hit her before he left he’d waved his cricket bat at her and warned her he’d be home to deal with her later,’ Jo told him. ‘Something in his tone or maybe in whatever had transpired to anger him convinced Jackie that he meant it. She was terrified when we collected her.’

      Realising that this conversation could more easily take place inside her house, she added, ‘Come on in,’ including Cam in the offer with a glance his way. She offered drinks that no one wanted and they settled down on the deck—the magical sheen of moonlight on the ocean making talk of violence seem unreal.

      ‘So, if he knows they’re in the refuge, why are you here, Mike?’

      Cam asked the question and Mike frowned as if he was considering not answering—or maybe wondering what right Cam had to be asking it.

      Jo stepped in, explaining Cam was coming to work for her and that he’d been with her when she’d driven Jackie to the refuge.

      ‘Staying here, is he?’ Mike asked.

      ‘In the flat,’ Jo explained, ‘but Cam’s right, are you worried about Richard’s reaction that you came up here? Was it to warn me he was angry about Jackie’s leaving? That I might be a target?’

      Mike explained that as he’d never suspected Richard might be violent, he’d had no idea what the upset man might do and had thought it best to talk to Jo about it in person.

      ‘Cam’s suggested setting up a programme for men with abuse issues,’ she said. ‘Something that could be ongoing because, as we all know, physical and mental abuse is like substance abuse, it goes in cycles. So although the offender wants desperately to kick the habit, so to speak, it’s nearly impossible without strong, ongoing support.’

      Cam didn’t expect Mike to greet this plan with overwhelming enthusiasm, but a nod of acceptance or a ‘Good idea, mate’ might have been appropriate. But maybe because he, Cam, was a stranger in town, Mike had a policeman’s natural suspicion of him.

      Small towns sure were different from the city …

      ‘If you’re a friend of Richard’s, maybe you could talk to him about it,’ Jo continued.

      ‘Hard to do that if he doesn’t admit to being abusive,’ Mike replied. ‘It’d put me in the position of deciding he’s guilty whether he is or not, and that would certainly be offensive to him.’

      Cam could see Mike’s point.

      ‘You don’t want to ruin a friendship by stepping in,’ Cam told him. ‘The man might need help but he needs his friends to stick by him as well. From what I’ve read, most of the men attending programmes have been ordered to attend by the courts.’

      Jo sighed and nodded at him.

      ‘You’re right, but less than fifty per cent of our women ever take their partners to court or even get a domestic violence order against them.’

      ‘I can’t see that a programme would work if we’re expecting men who don’t believe they’re abusive to attend voluntarily,’ Mike told her.

      ‘But we need to get it started. As well as helping men learn to react in non-violent ways, which I accept is the main reason for such a programme, it’s just the kind of thing that could add to our worth as far as the funding bodies are concerned. That could help keep the refuge open,’ Jo replied. ‘It’s exactly the kind of thing that they—the relevant government departments—like to see happening. It would fit into their blueprint for long-term solutions for battered women, and it would show we have an integrated service instead of just a safe place for women to stay on a temporary basis.’

      ‘Could we work it through the women’s support group that Lauren runs?’ Cam suggested, not liking the desperation in Jo’s voice and pleased to be able to add something useful to the conversation. ‘What if the women concerned could make their partner’s attendance in a programme a condition of their returning to the relationship—would that work?’

      ‘It might,’ Jo said, offering a rather tired smile—a tired smile that reminded him that it had already been a long day, with more than enough emotion involved, first of all collecting Jackie, then Jo’s unhappiness on the walk up the headland.

      ‘It’s not the best time to be discussing this,’ Cam said firmly. ‘We need to get together, maybe get Tom on board as well, and definitely Lauren, and see how we can make a men’s programme work.’ He turned to Mike. ‘Now, do you think Richard Trent represents a danger to Jo? If so, I’m happy to sleep in my camper in the carport. Any vehicle approaching would wake me with its lights.’

      Mike looked put out, as if Cam had undermined his official authority somehow.

      ‘I doubt Richard Trent would take his anger out on Jo,’ Mike admitted.

      ‘I’ll be fine so go home, both of you,’ Jo told them. ‘We’ll talk again tomorrow. Cam’s idea of all of us getting together is a good one. I can organise an afternoon with no appointments later in the week—is Friday all right for you, Mike?’

      ‘This week it’s okay—next week is schoolies and chaos. But, yes, if you can get Tom and Lauren, we could have it at the community centre in town and brainstorm some ideas.’

      Jo led the two men back through the house to the carport, fully expecting Cam to peel off and go into the flat, but, no, he hung around while Mike said goodbye, hung around as Mike drove off, then, as she was beginning to wonder if he’d ever go inside, he touched her lightly on the shoulder.

      ‘Why don’t you sleep in the flat—in the second bedroom—just in case?’

      They’d been moving enough for the sensor light to have remained on, so she was able to look

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