would be in that letter. "Oh, confession. You want me to go in there with a priest and confess all the bad things I've done?"
"If you like." She grinned at me suddenly, looking like the cat who'd stolen the fillet steak. "I have."
I started to shake my head, knowing one of the last things I wanted to do right now was tell some stranger about the bad things I'd done. I could barely tell her what she already knew. A sudden thought distracted me. "What sort of things do you have to confess to?" I asked.
"When I was at school, we were taught not to ask anyone that question, because it's not polite," she admonished me, turning back to look at the front of the church. I thought she'd finished, but after a pause she continued, "Killing people isn't exactly condoned and I think lying to police and perjury are considered sins, regardless of the reasons for them."
"I haven't..." I began, than changed what I was going to say. "I don't have anything I want to tell a priest."
"You never told anyone about him, did you? You said I killed him, in self-defence." Caitlin's eyes were dark pools pointed at me. "I don't think it's a god's forgiveness you want," she said carefully. "At school, the teacher drummed into us that reconciliation wasn't so much about what you'd done, or what you'd failed to do, but how you were sorry for it and intended to make amends."
I didn't know what to say. I'd known this time would come and I dreaded telling her the truth. That's why I wrote it down, so I'd know I said it all, even if I couldn't get the words out of my mouth. They'd flowed through my fingers far more easily.
I'd kept putting it off in the hope that maybe it wouldn't happen. Maybe she'd never remember it all. Fucking stupid hope.
She'd never forgotten any of it.
I fell to my knees. "Caitlin, I'm so sorry."
She turned her big, dark, sad eyes on me. They shone in the last rays of sunlight streaming through the high window as they filled with tears. "Chris. Why did you do it, Nathan?"
I took a deep breath. It didn't help. "It was my job to watch them kidnap someone and get out with the witness. But I didn't... couldn't..." My voice failed and I tried again. "I didn't know what they'd done to you until that night on the beach. Then it was too late. I'd let them hurt you like that and I hadn't done a thing to stop them."
"Why did you kill him?" Her voice shook as she said it.
I hesitated, not even sure of the answer to this myself any more. "I thought it was for Alanna, or even for me. Maybe it was for you. I... just... couldn't let him live... knowing... what he did... and what I didn't. How I'd failed." It felt like my entire digestive tract was so heavy it had dropped out of me onto the floor at my feet, taking my voice with it, leaving a gaping hole where my guts used to be.
She knew.
Her voice was sad and calm. "Why me, Nathan? Why did they choose me?"
I couldn't meet her eyes. "I couldn't take my eyes off you. She saw and picked you. Out of the hundreds of people walking down the Terrace that day, they picked you. And I couldn't stop them."
A tear stood bright on her cheek, but she wiped it away.
"I think you have a lot to answer for. What you put me through can't be undone, but you helped me recover from it. You even saved my life. Maybe one day I'll be able to forgive you for it." Suddenly, she rose and walked out of the church.
"Wait. Please." I hurried to follow her out.
When she stopped, it was so sudden that I almost bumped into her.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." I couldn't say it enough.
She turned to face me, so close I could feel the warmth of her body, not quite touching me. She slid an arm around my waist to steady herself, as she stretched up onto her toes. She reached up with her other hand to my throat, her fingers moving up in a slow caress to my cheek, where she stopped. The heel of her hand was under my chin, her fingers curved up around my cheek. "Forgiven," she breathed, before she gave me a lingering kiss.
My heart ached in a void, daring to beat in hope.
Tell her about the letter.
She stepped back and looked up at me, a sad smile on her face. "Goodbye, Nathan."
In despair, I wondered if there was anything I could say to change her mind. "I love you," I whispered, realising I meant it.
She didn't hear. Her light, dancing step carried her into the evening cafe crowd and out of my sight. Caitlin never looked back.
I couldn't leave. I couldn't make myself move. I couldn't stand to shift from the spot where Caitlin had kissed me so sweetly for what might have been the last time.
She knew.
Dusk faded to darkness and still I stood, wishing, hoping, praying that she'd read the letter and return. She said she'd forgiven me!
Out of the darkness, I heard a live band in one of the nearby pubs start their first set, covering a Powderfinger song.
"Who's going to pick you up..."
Lifting her up when she was unconscious, on the beach, on the road outside the ambulance, in the hospital... Even now my arms felt empty without her.
"... Who's going to play your fool..."
Bloodied handprints on the quilt... a silent scream... running. NO. Don't think it.
"... Who's going to watch your back..."
Her pulling me down as the gunshot echoed in the dark night... She'd saved my life.
Oh God, she knew in the TV interview and she never said anything, either. Two weeks ago, with the police... fuck! She was protecting me...
"... Who's going to be there at the end..."
End it. Her whisper in the TV studio. Her lying on the beach, her eyes on me as she held a gun to her own head. Agonising memory that haunted my nightmares. Who would be there to protect her if they found her? She'd turn the weapon on herself before she'd let them take her back...
"... Who's going to fall down at your..."
... trying to help her... in hospital, on the beach, on the road by the ambulance as the blood pooled beneath her...
"... fall down at your..."
Here in the church... begging for her forgiveness... when I should have been begging her to stay with me.
"... FALL DOWN at your feet?"
Did he have a fucking stutter? On my knees on the dull grey concrete outside a church, I was angry at a stupid singer I couldn't even see.
The letter. Fuck, the letter.
I staggered to my feet.
I had to find her.
I needed to know.
The nightmare may be over for Caitlin, but for Nathan it's just begun.
Awake or asleep – Nathan's angel has the answers.
Caitlin will tell her own story in Necessary Evil of Nathan Miller.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Demelza Carlton has always loved the ocean, but on her first snorkelling trip she found she was afraid of fish.
She has since swum with sea lions, sharks and sea cucumbers and stood on spray drenched cliffs over a seething sea as a seven-metre cyclonic swell surged in, shattering a shipwreck below.
Demelza now lives in Perth, Western Australia, the shark attack capital of the world.
The Ocean's Gift series was her first foray into fiction, followed her suspense thriller Nightmares trilogy. She swears the Mel Goes to Hell series ambushed her on a crowded train and wouldn't leave her alone.
Want to know more? You can follow Demelza on Facebook, Twitter, YouTube or her website Demelza Carlton's Place at:
www.demelzacarlton.com
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