Free Return to Moondilla by Tony Parsons

with his dad. Now in his late thirties, Lewis was recognised as one of the best mechanics on the South Coast, and had the Holden Agency in Moondilla. Jane had gotten to know Steve while working in the garage’s office, and it was clear there’d never been anyone else for either of them.
    The two men got on like a house on fire, and were soon talking fishing. Lewis was one of the keenest fishermen ever to tie on a hook. Needless to say, he had his own boat, a bigger and more modern craft than Baxter’s. As Julie had implied, he was occasionally accused by his wife of being too keen, but Baxter’s plea for a boat tune-up seemed to fall on fertile ground. From the look in Jane’s eye and her encouragement of the idea, Baxter guessed that she’d soon be pushing her husband for more info about him.
    ‘So what have you got in mind once I’ve looked at your Flora Jane ?’ Lewis asked.
    ‘Well, I’ve never gone out past the river mouth because I’m an inexperienced sailor, and I don’t know the best fishing spots anyway. So I’d appreciate having someone with me who knows the ropes.’
    ‘We’ve got a couple of busy weekends coming up, so how about I come by on Saturday arvo in a few weeks?’ Lewis suggested. ‘I’ll work on the boat then and we’ll take her out for a bit. Another time, weather willing, we’ll make an early start and duck out to the Islands before the wind gets up. You can fish from out in front of them if the nor’easter isn’t blowing—if it is, and there’s a run-in tide, you can get thrown up against the rocks. It’s a dicey place at the best of times, but the fishing is great, with lots of snapper on offer. You just need to know what you’re about.’
    ‘Sounds terrific.’
    ‘Have you got plenty of gear?’
    ‘Probably not as much as I should have. I’ve got a couple of rods and reels, and half a dozen handlines, but no lures. I don’t understand how to use them.’
    ‘Not to worry. You’ve been catching fish, haven’t you?’
    ‘Some, though not a lot. Of course there’s only me and an occasional visitor—Julie appreciated my fillet.’ He shot her a smile, which she returned. ‘But the thing is that my mother’s due to visit soon, and she’s a big-time chef and cooking writer.’
    ‘You don’t mean Frances Baxter, the Great Woman?’ Jane asked, astonished.
    ‘That’s her,’ Baxter said and grinned, while Jane shot Julie an annoyed glance for not keeping her in the loop. ‘So I’d like to have some decent fish on hand.’

CHAPTER TWELVE
    The next week passed without incident. Then, late one morning, Chief’s bark warned Baxter that he could expect a visitor. The dog stood at attention in the doorway of the shed where his master had been working out.
    ‘Let him be, Chief,’ Baxter said when he saw it was Drew.
    The German Shepherd moved to sit beside him, hackles still raised, while the ex-pug sauntered into the shed.
    ‘Can I help you?’ Baxter asked, cool and steady.
    ‘You’re the bastard who hit me while I was drunk,’ Drew snarled.
    ‘As I remember, you tried to hit me before I touched you.’
    ‘You were lucky. I don’t give a shit for your fancy martial arts.’ Drew walked right up to Baxter and tried to stare him down.
    Baxter looked Drew over, making it clear that he didn’t think much of what he saw. ‘You’re a gutless, worthless bloke, Drew. No worthwhile man hits his wife. She’s a decent woman too, and I can’t imagine why she’d have taken you on. She ought to dump you and go back to Queensland.’
    ‘Think you know a lot, don’t you?’ Drew sneered.
    ‘I only know what I’ve been told. I’ve talked to people, and it seems you’re in the habit of hitting Liz,’ Baxter said, letting contempt drip from his voice. ‘Go home, Drew. Go home while you can. You’re a boozer and a has-been.’
    Drew flushed red and leaned even closer. ‘I’ll give you has-been. I’m going to see how much ticker you’ve got. I fought some of