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Because I do not
hope to turn again.

Because I do not hope.

Because I do not hope to turn.

I left them Misting, turning below.

There were no more faces
and the stair was dark,

damp, jagged,

like an old man's mouth
dribbling, beyond repair.

Or the toothed gullet
of an aged shark.

Desiring this man's gift
and that man's scope,

I no longer strive to
strive towards such things.

Because I know that
time is always time.

And place is always and only place.

And pray that I may
forget these matters

that with myself, I too much
discuss, too much explain.

Because these wings are
no longer wings to fly

but merely fans to beat the air...

the air which is now
thoroughly small and dry,

smaller and drier than the will.

Teach us to care and not to care.

Teach us to sit still.

Although I do not
hope to turn again.

Although I do not hope.

Although I do not hope to turn.

After five years of high school,

the final November arrives and leaves
as suddenly as a spring storm.

Exams, graduation,
huge beach parties.

Biggie and me, we're
feverish with anticipation.

We steel ourselves for a
season of pandemonium.

But after the initial celebrations,
nothing really happens.

Somehow our crappy Saturday job at
the meatworks becomes full-time.

And then Christmas comes and
so do the dreaded exam results.

The news is not good.

A few of our classmates pack
their bags for university

and shoot through,

and suddenly there we are...
Biggie and me,

heading to work every
morning in the frigid wind

in the January of our new lives.

Some days I can see me and
Biggie out there as old codgers,

anchored to the friggin' place.

Beside me, Biggie's face
gets darker and darker.

When the shift horn sounds, he lurches
away, his last canon half-empty.

"Fuck it," he says.
"We're outta here."

That afternoon, we buy a kombi
from a hippie on the wharf.

We fill the ancient VW with tinned
food and all our camping junk

and rack off without telling a soul.

I can't believe we've done it.

The plan is to call from somewhere
the other side of the city,

when we're out of reach.

I want to be safe from the guilts.

The old girl will
crack a sad on me.

But Biggie has bigger
things to fear.

His old man will beat the shit
out of him when he finds out.

I can't tell Biggie this, but
missing out on uni really stings.

When the results came,
I cried my eyes out.

I thought about killing myself.

Biggie's results were
even worse than mine.

He'd really fried.

But he didn't have his
heart set on doing well.

He couldn't give a rat's ring.

In his head,
he's always seen himself

at the meatworks or the cannery,

until he inherits a salmon netting
license from his old man.

He's content.

He belongs.

Biggie's not the brightest
crayon in the box

but he's the most
loyal person I know.

He's the real deal.

We didn't meet until the
second week of high school.

I was new in town and
right from the start,

a kid called Tony Macoli
became fixated on me.

That's how it started...
a single decisive act of violence

that joined me to Biggie forever.

If you believe him on the subject,

he acted more out of animal
irritation than charity.

But I felt like somebody
ransomed and set free.

Biggie became my mate,
my constant companion.

Friendship, I suppose,
comes at a price.

There have been girls I've
disqualified myself from

because of Biggie.

Not everyone wants to have him
tagging along everywhere.

Right through high school,
I had occasional moments,

evenings, encounters with
girls, but no real girlfriend,

and mostly I don't regret it.

Except for Briony Nevis.

For two years, we're sort of
watching each other from a distance.

Sidelong glances.

She's flat-out beautiful.

Long, black hair.

Glossy skin.

Dark eyes.

I kiss her once at a party.

Well, maybe she kisses me.

But there, out of the
corner of my eyes,

Biggie, alone on the smoky
veranda waiting to go home.

I don't go to him straight up.

I do make him wait
a fair old while.

But I don't go on with Briony
Nevis the way I badly want to

because I know Biggie will
be left behind... for good.

We pull in to fuel up
and use the phone.

Biggie decides he's not calling
home, so he sits in the VW

while I reverse the charges
and get an earful.

I hang up and find Biggie
talking to a chick

with a backpack the size
of an elephant saddle.

She's tall and not very beautiful

with long, shiny brown
hair and big knees.

She thinks she's on
the coast road north

and she's mortified to
discover otherwise.

I can see Biggie falling in love
with her moment by moment.

There isn't really even
much consultation.

We just pull out with
this chick in the back.

Meg is her name.

Meg is as thick as
a box of hammers.

It's alarming to see how
enthralled Biggie is.

And I just drive and try to
avoid the rear-view mirror.

While I'm thinking
about all of this,

Biggie's gone and climbed over into
the back and Meg's lit up a number

and they're toking away on it with their
feet up like I'm some kind of chauffeur.

Biggie's never had
much luck with girls.

I should be glad for him.

But I'm totally pissed off.

We come upon a maze of salt lakes that
blaze silver and pearly in the sun.

I begin to have the panicky feeling

that the land and this very
afternoon might go on forever.

Biggie's really enjoying
himself back there.

I slowly understand why.

There's the obvious thing,
of course...

the fact that he's in with a big
chance with Meg come nightfall.

But something else...
the thing that eats at me...

is the way he's enjoying being
brighter than her, being a step ahead.

Feeling somehow senior
and secure in himself.

It's me all over.

It's how I am with him.

And it's not pretty.

The kombi fills up
with smoke again.

But this time it's
bitter and metallic

and I understand we're on fire.

Without an extinguisher,
there's not much we can do,

once we're standing out there
in the litter of our belongings,

waiting for the VW to explode.

But it just smoulders and hisses
awhile as the sun sinks behind us.

In the end, with the smoke almost
gone and the wiring cooked,

it's obvious we're
not going anywhere.

We turn our attention
to the sunset.

Meg rolls another spliff.

We don't say anything.

The sun flattens itself against
the salt pan and disappears.

The sky goes all acid-blue

and there's just this huge silence.

It's like the world's stopped.

Right then, I can't imagine
an end to the quiet.

The horizon fades.

Everything looks
impossibly far off.

In two hours, I'll hear Biggie
and Meg in his sleeping bag.

She'll cry out like a bird
and become so beautiful,

so desirable in the total
dark that I'll begin to cry.

In a week,

Biggie and Meg will
blow me off in Broome

and I'll be on the bus south for
a second chance at the exams.

In a year,

Biggie will be dead in a
mining accident in the Pilbara

and I'll be reading Robert Louis
Stevenson at his funeral.

Meg won't show.

I'll grow up and have a family
of my own and see Briony Nevis,

tired and lined in a
supermarket queue

and wonder what all
the fuss was about.

All of it unimaginable.

Right now, standing with Biggie
on the salt lake at sunset,

I don't care what happens
beyond this moment.

In the hot, northern dusk,

the world suddenly
gets big around us,

so big we just give in and...

watch.

Eenie, meenie, minie...

moe.

Arggh!

Oh, argh.

..was not presented by
the May 31st deadline,

then more industrial
action will be taken.

Now in a bit of the macabre, in
the seaside town of Angelus,

a gruesome discovery
was made this afternoon.

Just behind the sand dunes
in Angelus' Madison Gully,

two boys playing at the site
of a new housing development

on reclaimed swampland made the
grisly discovery of human bones.

So far, two femurs and a
skull have been recovered.

Police have cordoned off the site

and a broad search is under
way throughout the area.

Police are yet to make
identification of the bones

but believe they are
the remains of a child.

At the third stroke,
it will be 8:22 and 20 seconds.

At the third stroke, it will be
8:22 and 30 seconds.

Hey, look.

Hey! Wait up!

Hey, guys, look at that.

Oh, sweet!

Wicked!

Not bad!

Oh, look at this!

Think it could float?

OK!

Yes, this is perfect.

Reckon it'll float?

- Oh, give it a crack.
- Yeah? Sweet.

Hey, help me get around this log.

Oi, just over there
near the bushes.

Where do you think you're goin'?

What have you got there? Tadpoles?

Stay down.

Here we go again.
I've had enough of this!

I'm getting outta here.

Come on. Help me with this thing.

Gotta go to school.

- Oi! Where are you going?!
- School!

My husband had a thing about
this girl with a birthmark.

It began when he was 16
and went on and on.

Like a fever that wouldn't break.

It's a story he used to
tell against himself.

His crush on Strawberry Alison.

It was one of the things that
charmed me about him.

Eh, Vic?
See the new form-six chick?

What do you reckon? Spunk?

Yeah. Pretty good.

One, two - Pigeons!

Sucked in!

Oh, my God. What a shocker.

Oi, she's got a face like
a half-sucked Redskin.

Strawberry Alison wasn't
the only damaged specimen

to capture his imagination.

His first love was a farm girl

whose ring finger ended
at the first joint,

ripped off in a hay baler.

That was over in a night.

A teenage kiss.

Not like Alison.

Alison!

I always assumed the whole
thing was just a mortifying memory.

Later, I started
thinking about that.

You know I've been trying
to get more poetry

into the school paper.

Yeah, but I didn't really mean
for everyone to see this.

OK.

Well, I just think it'd be great
experience for you as a writer,

baring your soul.

Well... you think about it, OK?

What you doing, dickhead?

OK.

Let's go.

"Incandescent.

"They say that when you're
there, you'll know.

"That when it's
happening, you'll see.

"And it'll all be right.

"But it's not that way, is it?

"You say it's not what they think.

"You say to show them your face...

"..to not be afraid
of the burning girl.

"It's something else
folded within itself.

"My burning girl."

Alison.

I loved your poem.

I thought...
I thought it was really great.

So?

I think you're great.

Oh! Where do you
think you're going?

I was just gonna...

Why don't you just leave
her the fuck alone?

Time heals all wounds, right?

And a lot of time's passed.
Alright.

But then just last week, I caught
him poring over something.

This damn box.

Crying.

Oh, he didn't want to
talk about it, he said.

So we didn't.

Hi, guys.

- Hey, guys.
- Hey.

- Hi.
- Hi.

You alright?

Good. Just... you know.

Watching the fire.

I'm starting uni in a few weeks.

We're driving to Perth tomorrow,
me and Roberta.

Right.

I guess I'll see you later.

I still love your poem.

I still love you for loving it.

Ali?

Sometimes I felt
like a biographer...

searching around for the
one, final, telling detail

at the centre of my husband's life.

Then I think of Strawberry Alison

and the way my husband
was drawn to her.

To the pain he thought he saw.

All very endearing until you
think of it turned your way.

That your husband's love might
have been another act of kindness.

As if you too might have been
some kind of damaged goods.

What were you looking at?

Uh, the... sheep ships.

They've got the smell
and everything.

- You looking forward to this?
- Mm-hm.

Yeah? Bit excited?

Bloody smell.

Here we are.

Get 'em in, eh?

Why are you doing that?

Never liked this wall.

You want to have a go?

I can't even lift it.

Just trying to get out
of a hard day's work.

Look out.

Wasn't it boring here
when you were a kid?

No.

My memory's a bit shot, mate.

I don't think there's much I could
remember that'd impress you.

You're kidding.

Jesus wept.

Come here, for the love of God.

Lord, it's good to see you.

- G'day, Peter.
- Don.

- This must be Ricky, then.
- Oh, g'day, Ricky.

Ooh!

He's got some muscles.

You don't have to tell
me anything, Peter.

We've heard.

Oh.

This is our Sky.

Hey, Sky.

She's Fay's, of course.

Fay's... uh... not around?

She'll be back any day.

So she tells us.

Maybe you could catch up with her.

Oh, Don. I'm not really
in a good place to...

In our mind, you're family.
We always...

We've got our Sky.

She's put us through bloody hell.

We're grateful for small mercies.

We need a break, mate.

Tell us you'll think about it.

Come on, sleepy sheets.

Alright. Come here.

Have a good day.

OK. Bye. Love you.

- Love you too, mate.
- OK.

Careful crossing the road.

Careful, mate.

Ricky, thank Christ.

Sorry, mate.

I am really, really sorry.

Fay.

I, um... I, um... slept.

Jesus. Uh, thanks.

Should have heard the row I had with Dad
to get him to let me pick Sky up on my own

and there she was
with your little guy.

Mate, are you gonna give
Sky one of your jackets?

She's freezing.

I am too.

There you go. Get in there.

Mum told me about your wife.

So... did she tell you about me?

Uh, not really.

And look, I'm not that
stable myself, so...

I'm supposed to seek
out good people.

Alright. Don't worry about it.

I'll leave you alone, then.

Thanks again for Ricky.

Couldn't have my folks thinking

you'd left your kid out
in the rain, could we?

You're still their golden boy.

Looks like I'm trouble
around here still.

For you, at least.

Not having much luck, are we?

Come on.

You'll like this.

I swear.

Chuck your bucket down.

Lie down.

OK.

- Can you see up through there?
- Yep.

Alright.

Perfect.

Now just... just wait.

It's coming.

It's coming. Here it comes.

Come here.

Please.

You're a mess.

You owe me a cuppa.

All daylong I've had to
listen to stories about you

and all your virtues.

There's a bottle of red
open if you want to...

Jesus, Peter. You don't know
much about all this, do you?

No.

Just coffee.

Sure. Coffee.

Sorry, I just... I had to come.

There's really no-one else?

No. No. Dad drove me here.

So fucking sad.

They think I'll score otherwise.

Will you?

I'm here, aren't I?

What do you want from me, Fay?

Is a bit of adoration
too much to ask?

I just need the edge taken off.

I mean... this fucking town.

What was I thinking?

Why'd you come back?

I want my kid.

What's your excuse?

I came here for comfort
and you're uncomfortable.

You used to treat me like a trophy.

I was your prize.

Please.

I'm aching.

Fay... Don't do that.

Don't look down at me.

I can't drink or drive.

I'm living with my parents.

A mercy fuck isn't
going to kill you.

I can't give you anything, Fay.

You used to beg me for it.

Jesus. This is so humiliating.

You were never really my friend.

Fay, don't do this.

Every shitty thing I ever
did got back to them.

Except for the one thing
that would make them realise

what their fucking tin
god is really like.

We were kids.

Your mum paid for it.

Then she paid me.

Jesus.

And then nothing.

What kind of a man...

What kind of a kid...

Dad?

Ricky.

Ricky. Bed.

I've got to wee.

Come on, mate. Into bed.

I guess that's a no, then.

Hey, Mum.

Mum.

How long is this gonna take?

Two hours.

You alright?

This is bullshit.

What do you think you're doing?

What does it look like?

- No, you're fucking not.
- Hey, language!

Mum, she sacked you.

Yeah, well, I have
plenty of other clients.

Mum, you've got to stop.

This is demeaning.

Oh, and to whom is it demeaning,
Victor? Hmm? You?

Well, I'm not helping.

Did she call the police?

Well, if she had,
we'd know about it.

'Cause she can't claim insurance
if she doesn't report it.

This doesn't make any sense.

Does she think I stole them?

Oh, no. You haven't helped
out here in months.

Well, we have to do something.

You want to do something?
Take these to the laundry.

No.

OK, Mr High-and-Mighty Law Student,
what do you suggest I do, then?

Well, let's just take
the money and go.

And confirm I'm a thief?

Well, let's just leave, then.

No. Not cleaning would look
like an admission of guilt.

So report it yourself, then.

Can you imagine the talk?

I'd lose all my clients.

Eugh!

Mum, it's not fair.

No.

It's not fair.

So do your poor mother
a favour, will you?

And use a disinfectant.

Ha.

Eh?

Bit of excitement, please.

It's carelessness.

Stupid carelessness.

Worth 500 bucks, my arse.

It doesn't change anything.

But this is proof
that you're innocent.

She'll just think that I put them
back because she found me out.

Changes nothing.

Pop 'em back in her bedroom,
will you?

Well, that's the end of
three years' service.

What about the money?

Oh, I'm worth more than that.

- Well, I'll take it, then.
- Don't you dare.

We're not taking it on principle.

Good one, Mum.
That'll really teach her.

I'll meet you out the front.

I know this one.

No, no, wait a minute.
Wait a minute.

We're definitely past
'More Songs of Praise'.

It's either 'Further Songs of Praise'

or 'Yet More Songs of Praise'.

You got somewhere to be?

Just trying to help.

- I haven't finished.
- Alright.

You're gonna be late for school.

Bye, Mum.

Why are you following me?

I'm just going to the bus.

You know what I mean.

Did you do your maths?

- No.
- Bugger.

I thought you might have.

Hey.

Do you mind if I come along?

You've got no shoes.

I'll be alright.

Suit yourself.

Damn ugly buggers, aren't they?

S'pose.

Ow!

Ah! Fuh... f... Ow, ow, ow.

Ow.

Are you OK?

Yeah, bloody wonderful.

Only a matter of time.

Hot water, they say.

See ya.

Brakey.

Have you drowned in there?

At least you got shoes tonight.

Do you remember that old canoe,
when we were kids?

And, like, we'd all
try and pile into it?

What happened to it?

I don't know.

Where are we going?

I'm going to the Beasley sisters'.

Do they pay alright?
The Beasley sisters?

I don't even know what
flathead's worth.

It's gotta be more than
mullet, though, right?

Jesus, Brakey.
Spare me the pity, will ya?

I don't even like fishing.

I thought things were
better over at yours.

Why? Because he doesn't
hit her anymore?

It's worse.

OK?

It's worse.

Hey.

Oh, f...

Sorry.

It doesn't matter.

- Shit.
- I said it doesn't matter.

I'll see you, Brakey.

Oh, shit.

- Mum, there's a fire.
- What?

Fire!

Please help them!

Agnes!

- Agnes!
- Agnes!

- Agnes!
- Agnes!

No. No, Brakey! No!

No, Brakey!

Don't!

Get off.

No fighting, youse two!

Hi.

Is this machine free?

Yep.

Boy, that must've hurt.

I didn't even have the guts
to get my ears pierced.

It must really hurt there.

Oh. No. No.

It's easier than getting a tatt.

My name's Sherry.

Rae.

Hi, Rae.

We're moving into
a house up the hill.

Just waiting for the
kitchen to be done.

Are you staying in
White Point for good?

Yeah. Dan's the new
manager up at the depot.

I know what you're gonna do.
Don't touch that.

Don't youse be fucking with me,
saying you need to go when you don't.

- You need to go to the toilet?
- I need to go toilet.

- You really need to go?
- I need to go toilet.

Max? Max!

Max! Why can't we have
a house, for fuck's sake?

With an actual toilet in it.

We wouldn't have to
walk 50 metres, like...

to take a shit.

I need to go toilet.

Go.

This place is so calm.

You're stuck here now.

You make it sound tragic.

Max lets me do darts nights,
Tuesday at the pub.

But... nothing happens here.

You're gonna be fucking
bored outta your skull.

You should come. Darts night.

You can meet the girls.

Oh, nights are a bit tricky
for me with Dan's workload.

Stay away from that water,
'cause there's...

But the clays are good.

Your husband works at the
depot too, doesn't he?

- Yeah.
- Whoa! There's a big one!

He's a cray fisherman.

When we first got together
he shouted us a trip to Bali.

Screwed ourselves silly
for two weeks straight.

He's got a gut now.

Ooh.

- Oh, good bullseyes.
- Oh, yeah.

- Ooh.

I'll go again, Razza.

Yay.

Come on. Bullseye.

- Oh!
- Bullseye.

You must be Rae, right?

- Sherry in?
- Yeah.

Rae?

Rae! Are you OK?

Where are the girls?

They're... It's darts night.
Max has got 'em.

Oh!

You guys have been going
at it, haven't ya?

Come in. Come in for a cuppa.

- Yeah.
- No.

Nah, it wouldn't be right.
'Cause...

Oh, I'll leave youse to it,
ya root rats.

See you.

Hope youse are hungry.

Yum.

Let me have the plates.

A chicken boob?

All good, hey?

Lily. You right?

Some more?

Pretty good, hey?

It's good.

You like... You like
your mum's dress?

- Rae. You're early tonight.
- Yeah.

- What happened to dads?
- I'm skippin' it.

Bunch of bitches.

Deb's got a gob on her.
I'm just over it.

Would you like some gnocchi, Rae?

- What?
- Pasta.

Oh, yeah.

- Hello.
- G'day.

So it's this.

This?

This.

The Bible?

Yeah, I know what the
fucking thing is.

Guys younger than me,
fucking half my age,

getting promotions.
I'm still fucking...

Shit-kicking, hauling arse
all day on the fucking deck.

It's not fair, Rae. It's not fucken...

Hey.

I'd promote ya.

Hey?

Maxy?

Have you got anything stronger?

There's a reason why there's
no booze in the house.

Oh, 'cause you're churchy,
right?

Actually, it's because
I'm an alcoholic.

White Point is kind
of our second chance.

Yeah. Booze leaves
a pretty big hole.

We're just here, finding our way.

- Ooh, look.
- Do you like that?

- Fairy dust.
- Ooh!

This is like a snake.

Come and have a look at these ones.

- Showbags?
- Yeah, we'll find them.

I know where they are.

You know where they are?
Did you see them already?

They're up there, I think.

- Check it out.
- Oh.

You saw it already?

Holy hardware, not really my thing.

Aww! Have a quick squiz.
Look at them all.

Do you want to go and get
the show bags, girls?

- Yeah!
- Yes?

We'll go get the show bags.

Let's go over here.

Come on.

Hold my hand.

Look. Check it out.

Instead of snow,
it's got little doves.

Look at his sixpack!

Jesus is ripped.

Alright?

What was it like?

This... "born-again business?

Well... It's about getting into...
No, no, I don't...

I don't mean what it's about...
I mean...

What did it feel like?

The moment you suddenly got it.

The change, you know?

The moment you turned or
whatever you guys call it.

It was like a hot
knife going into me.

Like I was butter.

And this knife was opening me up...

and suddenly I could see all
this possibility in the world.

And then something more
than that. There...

There was hope and beauty where...

all I'd felt before was hollow.

Sounds sexy.

Yeah, it was.

Yeah.

Lily.

There's Daddy.

Girls, get in the van.

Get in the van.

Who is it?

What?

Fucking darts nights for weeks!

Who the fuck is he? Tell me!

He's bigger than you, Max.

So be careful.

You don't know him,
but he owns you.

He'll open you up
like a knife in butter.

Is that right? You tell me
his fucking name, ya slut!

Hi, girls.

Where the fuck do you think
you're going?!

Where you gonna go, eh?

Who the fuck is gonna have you?

Where the... fuck are you going?

You're mine.

"When an archer is shooting for
nothing, "he has all his skill.

"If he shoots for a brass
buckle, "he is already nervous.

"If he shoots for a prize of gold,

"he goes blind and
sees two targets.

"He is out of his mind.

"His skill has not changed,
but the prize divides him.

"He cares.

"He thinks more of winning
than of shooting.

"And the need to win
drains him of power."

Prelim final,

the Swans lead by 18 points
early over the Hawks.

Here's the jack-in-the-box,
what a young player he is.

Frank Leaper, second season player.

Hawthorn score a
really important goal.

They're back within 12
points in this prelim final.

Leaper on the burst here,
looking for a pass out wide.

Leaper picks it up,
tries to get rid of it.

Does so. Well played.

Leaper still trying to encourage
himself and make a difference.

Oh, that's high! That is high!

Sydney are gonna get a free kick.

Leaper's gonna have the chance

to put Sydney through
to the grand final.

Hawthorn fans cannot believe it.

There's no more play after this.

Leaper has the opportunity to do

what every young footballer...

I can't believe it.

He's dropped the ball.

Frank Leaper has put
the ball on the ground

and the match is effectively over.

It'll be Hawthorn
into the grand final.

Words can't describe it.

Sydney's future, we know,
in the short-term, is finished.

Sports fans are dismayed...

So what the fuck happened?

Couldn't do it anymore.

You mean you wouldn't do it.
That's what it looked like.

Watching, were ya?

Christ, you idiot, that's my team.
Of course I was watching.

The whole family was watching,
tearing our fucking hair out.

You know, I'm the one
that has to live out here.

Yeah, but you hated
it when I was good.

You stupid little bastard.

People dreamed of
having what you had.

Oh, you mean you?

You're a fucking pussy.

Grab your board!

Let's go! Come on! Let's go!

One, two, three.

During moments of stillness,

Vic often felt he could see the
particles an object was made of

start to move.

As if he could slip his
hand through anything.

He was in the habit of
snapping his teeth

every time they drove
under a streetlight.

Salvation belongs to our God,
who sits on the throne,

and to the Lamb.

All the angels were
standing around the throne

and around the elders and
the four living creatures.

He liked to count how
many people caught his eye.

After this, I saw four angels

standing in the four
corners of the earth,

holding back the four
winds of the earth...

He imagined God as a newscaster

in front of a background of stars,

preaching godly announcements
in a pristine blue suit

with utmost friendliness.

Amen.

Good evening, everyone.

He thought about how much
he would miss eating meat

in the paradise, as everything
would be vegetarian.

This is God Almighty.

Welcome to the 7:30 news.

Oh, don't forget you've got soccer
practice at 4:00pm this week, Vic.

Mr Davidson sent a notice around

saying that the Tigers
are sharing the oval...

Can you do that before Aunty
Mary arrives on Thursday

'cause I told her that if there's
space, she can put some of her...

Occasionally, when it's
really dark at night,

Vic has to make sure
he hasn't gone blind.

He likes to wash his hands

and be out of the bathroom
by the time the flush finishes.

He loves a girl who's
out of his reach.

He wished he were invisible again.

He practised not looking
over his shoulder...

when he got the urge.

It doesn't happen often,

but there are times when he
gets the house to himself.

The rifle calms him down.

A bit early for a beer, isn't it?

It's half past.
I thought she said 12:00pm.

You alright?

Mmm.

These crackers are pretty good.

Executive crackers.

Which I think it means you
get a better toy thing...

you know, the little toy things
they've got inside 'em?

Oh, it's not like her to be late.

Don't ruin your appetite.

A bit early for a beer, isn't it?

I've had a little glass.

Fair enough.

She won't mind us
drinking, will she?

No.

Yep. It's Christmas.

You wouldn't know it, though.

It's so quiet.

I feel sorry for your mum,
you know.

I mean... it's just not much
of a Christmas, is it?

No kids.

She's alright.

She loves ya.

Yeah.

Merry Christmas, Mum.

Very quiet.

Yeah. It's a bit hot in here.
Sorry.

You should get an air conditioner.

Here. That's for you.
Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas.

Come in.
Lunch is almost on the table.

They've asked us over
at Ernie and Cleds.

- What?
- This arvo.

I haven't seen them for years.

- Hi, Gail.
- Hi, Carol.

It's for you. It's a tin of tea.

Oh, Merry Christmas.

Oh!

What, are you actually going to go?

I don't see why not.

I think you have to give people
the benefit of the doubt.

Jeez.

I don't believe it.

Will you come with me?

You've never met them,
have you, Gail?

Your uncle Ernie?

Just for an hour.

Yeah, fine. Just for an hour.

Are you sure this is it, Mum?

This is the address they gave me.

I just don't recognise anything.

Well, you haven't seen them
since you were at the uni.

We'll look around the back.
Might be in the pool.

You don't even know
if they've got a pool.

What are the chances of a place
like this not having a pool?

Imagine cleaning it.

What? The pool?

The house, Gail. Oh, so... yes.

Hello?

Hello?

It's quiet.

It's too damn quiet.

Yoo-hoo!

It's the Marie Celeste.

It's rude, that's what it is.

Jesus!

My sainted aunt!

Not in this family!

It's lovely in!

What if this isn't
even the right place?

It better be.

I'm going to check.

Just wait there.

Oh, bloody hell.

Hey!

- What is it, love?
- It's not them. Get out.

Oh, God.

I've lost my other shoe.

I'm going to lose my job.

Oh, dear.

Wrong house, Mum.

- But I wrote it down!
- Oh, shit!

Is that champagne?
Pour me a glass!

What?

What, you don't think
I've got an excuse?

Just this once?

Oh, come on.
Give your mother a drink.

I lost a shoe over this.

Oh, look.

I wrote '75' and
read the 5 as an 8.

My handwriting's not good
and my eyesight's worse!

Oh! Don't worry about it, Carol.

For what it's worth, I enjoyed it.

Imagine if they'd've
sprung us in their pool.

They'll find the shoe.

I mean, that is
breaking and entering.

Well...

Happy Christmas.

- I'm serious, Mum.
- Oh.

Well, I don't know
about anyone else,

but it's the most fun I've
ever had at Christmas.

I felt like I was 10 years old.

Got that kind of naughty feeling.

Oh, yeah.

Be quiet, Vic. Let her talk.

When I was little,

we weren't even allow to
say "Merry Christmas"

because it condoned drunkenness.

It was "Happy Christmas"
or it was the doghouse.

Oh, I'm sorry, Carol.
I wasn't thinking.

Sorry.

What, because Bob was an alcoholic?

You're too careful.

Why... how did you know
it wasn't Ernie's house?

Photos.

Oh, no red hair,
no freckles, no ugly cousins.

No wobbegongs.

Hang on. That's our gene pool.

Don't even say the word 'pool'.

Well, they're nothing alike,
Bob and Ernie.

Pardon me.

Bob was everything Ernie wasn't.

He cleaned up every
mess Ernie ever made.

No thanks, no recognition.

And when Bob needed help, nothing.

No... nothing. Just a howl
of disappointment.

Disapproval.

Yeah. No, no.
I've heard the stories.

Family's not a word,
it's a sentence.

Mmm!

Rubbish. It's a challenge.

No! It's an adventure.

I think I'd like
another glass, Gail.

Come on.
We'll take the bottle outside.

- Mum...
- We can drink it there.

Oh, come on.

Oh, Vic!

It's Christmas!

Anyway, I think I'm a little bit tipsy.

Whoops.

- Go on. There you go.
- Oh.

Ooh!

Thanks, Gail.

Vic!

You coming out?

No, I'm good.

Yes, he is. He's a good man.

Like his father.

There. See there?

That's where Santa Claus lives.

Is it?

My mother was a drunk.

She lived on peanuts and gin.

Whenever I wanted her to hug me..

I dragged her out of pubs
after school, every day.

Whenever I want her to hug me,
she'd crack open a peanut

and she'd say, "Look, Carol.
That's where Santa Claus lives."

Don't give her any more to drink.

Well, excuse us, Constable!

Oh, let's get him
with a peanut. Go on.

Oh!

- Right.
- Well done, Gail.

- Hey?
- Now it's on.

Oh, yeah. Now it's on.

It's a peg fight. Peg and peanuts.

Now it's serious.

Hit him with the peanut.

This time, it's serious.

Pretty good.

Come on, Victor. You're the target.

Yeah, don't start something
you can't finish.

Is it your mother?

Yes.

You'll need a cup of tea.

How long have you lived like this?

Sober? 15 years.

Look, it'll be too dangerous trying to
drive back to the city in the dark.

Can you wait till morning?

You're welcome to stay here.

How do you live?

I get the pension.

I look after things for people,
keep them for them.

What sort of things?

Money, gold.

There's a few people here
and there still prospecting.

And often as not, they're just
going off their rockers and...

drinking too much.

They don't trust each other,
they don't trust themselves

and they leave their stuff with me.

Why you?

Because I don't drink.
Because I'm trustworthy.

I have to see some
people before I leave.

In case there's any
misunderstanding.

Do you want me to drive you?

Well, it would be quicker.

Yeah, just pull up here.

Yep.

I won't be long.

Did you hear about the
royal commission?

Somebody said it was on.

You're not curious?

It was a long time ago.

Shame to get this car dirty.

I hear you're a lawyer now.

Yeah.

What kind?

Industrial relations.

On whose side?

The little bloke.

Oh, that's good.

That's good. You've gotta
look after the little bloke.

Yeah, well, that's the theory.

And your mother, is she...

sick?

- Yeah.
- How sick?

She's dying.

Well, it hasn't all
been for nothing, then.

What hasn't?

Sobering up.
I couldn't have gone drunk.

I don't think she really
cares about that anymore.

Well, I wouldn't have.
I wouldn't have gone drunk.

- That's irrelevant.
- I wouldn't have gone.

It's not irrelevant to me.

Well, Jesus, you've been sober for
15 years, any way it turns out.

Waiting every day.

Have you ever written to her?

- Not since I've been straight.
- Why not?

Shame, I suppose.

- I didn't want to get...
- She's married to you!

So I believe.

It's good that you're sober.

I'm sorry.

I wish I could undo it all.

What the hell was it, Dad?

I lost my way.

Yeah, well, we've come
across that, haven't we?

You lost your way and we...
we all got lost with you.

You never said.

You never told us.

And the job?
Was it something you did?

Is that what you think?

You think that I'm sitting here
waiting to be named in that inquiry?

Well, I've... I've wondered, Dad.

I'm really sorry about that.

I saw things.

Well, I don't know.
I half saw things.

Things I didn't really
understand at the time.

I don't even really understand
them now. It's just...

It was the surprise of it.

Knowing that I was on the outside.

As soon as I smelt that
there was something crook,

I knew there was
no-one safe to tell.

Nobody at all?

No, I thought I was going nuts.

But then there was this little kid.

He was a small-time petty crim.

He had his legs broken
out on Thunder Beach.

Yeah, he got... he hopped into
a car with detectives...

Yeah, that's the one.

Those two demons come
down from the city.

I don't know what it was about.
Drugs, I s'pose.

I never really understood it.

It was just that he'd fallen foul
of them and any question about it,

any witness account
died on the vine.

It didn't matter who it came to.

It felt like whatever was going on,

I was the only bloke not in on it.

So who do you talk to?

Who do you trust?

I know it ate me alive.

I should have quit.

But I didn't even have
the guts to do that.

It would have saved
us all a lot of pain.

I just hung on in there until
there was nothing left of me.

There was nothing
left of any of us.

It was cowardice.

It's not natural.

You learn it.

So, how did you get off the booze?

I went to a meeting in Kalgoorlie.

Just the one?

Yeah. Only the one.

I'd had enough of self-pity.

30...?

I was living behind the pub then.

Called myself a yardman,

but basically I was an alcoholic
sweeping floors for drinks.

Then I came up here
with the dog and I hid.

I think I was trying to work up
the nerve to kill myself.

There's plenty of
mineshafts up here.

No shortage of means.

I spent months
plotting and planning.

I went mad, I s'pose.

And then I realised I'd been
six months without a drink.

I woke up one morning.
It was winter.

The sun was on this fallen tree,
this dead, grey tree,

and there was steam
rising off the dead wood...

and I felt new.

I had this feeling that the
world was inviting me in

and luring me towards...

something.

I dunno. Life, I s'pose.

I see you read a lot.

Yep.

It's an education.

But my eyes are going.

We'll get you some glasses.

What time do you want to leave?

Uh, first thing.

Fair enough.

You got it?

You'll take it.

And you'll keep your
fucking mouth shut.

Say g'day to Vic for me.

Ultimo 1 radio...
you have a job for us?

Listen up, everyone.

There's been a report
of a missing hiker.

Last seen on the
western track here.

By the sounds of it,
he's been caught in a fog

and wandered off the
path somewhere.

He's missing two days now, so he's
either fallen off the first tier,

or broken something along the way.

If he's alive,
we'll need to find him by dark.

It's getting bloody cold up there.

So we need to move fast.

Right. Stick to your groups.
Let's get going.

Uh, Bill, you lead the group
along the western track

and keep everyone close.

We don't wanna lose any more
of you, for God's sake.

Lang. You'll be taking
a back seat on this one.

Join Bill's group or something.

There's a reporter looking
for you somewhere.

Just talk her through the process
and make us sound good, alright?

- Me?
- Yes, you.

Fuck knows why,
but she wants to speak with you.

Is there a problem, Sergeant?

No. No problem.

Good. 'Cause we don't want
any more trouble now, do we?

Constable Lang?

Um... excuse me?

Constable Lang?

Sergeant Lang.

Oh. Sorry, Sergeant.

Um... I was told you were
someone who could help me.

My name's Marie.

You're the journalist?

Mmm, no - I'm a cadet, actually,

but I was hoping I could
ask you a few questions.

Won't hold you up. Promise.

Can ask 'em as we walk.

Oh. Well, come on, then.

Can you explain why
we've left the group?

In my opinion, he's landed on the
eastern side of the mountain.

He's fallen into
that area up ahead.

So, have you worked
in this area long?

About six months.

Oh.

How do you like it here so far?

Looks like the weather's coming in.

I can't see the track anymore.

Or hear anyone.

Maybe we should just go back.

If you go back the way we came,
you should find the track.

It's getting dark.

I can't go alone.

Fair enough.

Hello?!

Constable Lang!

Marie?

Hello!

- Help!
- Hey!

I'm over here!

Marie!

- Is he alive?
- Just.

What are we gonna do?

It looks like we're gonna
be in for a long night.

Fuck, I just feel so helpless.

First day I was posted out here...

got called up on this...
this accident.

This young farm kid...

was doing tricks...

on his trail bike.

He pulled out from behind the
bus on to the oncoming car.

Just cleaned him up.

I just sat there.

Waited with him
till the ambulance came.

All his schoolmates
just staring at me

like there was something
I could actually do.

He died in my arms.

Oh... God, I'm sorry.

I thought I was tougher than this.

Sometimes there's just
nothing you can do.

Do you like your work?

What?

Guys you work with? Good guys?

Yeah.

The two detectives found
his father on the bed.

He'd been dead for 10 days.

Some say that he put a pillow
over his dad's head...

and suffocated him.

But that's just what they told me.

Mum and Dad told me about
an oldish man called Boner.

He lived by the river
in a beat-up caravan

and his girlfriend had left him

and he'd shot himself underneath
the chin but he survived that.

He had half of his face blown off

and he had a big hole in his neck,

where his... around where
his voice box was.

So every time he spoke, he had to
put his finger into his mouth,

into his neck,

and that... just so he could...
was able to speak.

It was, like... something like that.

I reckon it must've
been early high school

and Boner was older than me.

He wasn't really a mate.

I didn't have any
mates in those days.

A mate was probably just someone

who was a bit less of an
arsehole than an enemy.

And people used to
just treat me like shit.

They used to call me
fucking 'Flathead'

and there was these two older cunts

that used to just belt the
fuck out of me every lesson.

They thought it just was good fun.

Anyway, one day Boner must've
fucking heard about it

and I was down in A-wing, down
this long bloody corridor.

I looked up and I saw these
two bastards coming and...

and Boner was standing behind them

and he was kneeing them in the
backside as they walked along

and whacking them in
the back of the head

and he was saying to 'em,
"You fucking leave him alone.

"You leave him alone."

And he got to the
end of the corridor

and then he just fucking
belted the shit out of them

and he was saying, "Leave the... leave
him alone, you fucking dogs."

And no-one knew... no-one except
me knew why he was doing it.

And he was standing up for me and yet...
he hardly knew me, really,

and that was the first time anyone
had ever really stood up for me.

Yeah, well, Boner was
driving along one day

and he had a whole heap of garbage

on the front of his car,
on the dash,

and they fell off and he looked
down to see what was going on.

And there was a police car
coming the other way.

And he wandered across the road

and pushed the police
car off the road.

Got down the road a bit, looked in the
mirror and the police are chasing him.

So he pulled up.

The police said to him,
"You just run us off the road."

He said, "I didn't see you."

He said, "Well, that's pretty
obvious you didn't see us."

He said, "You run us off the road."

He said, "We had to go
out in the paddock there."

He said, "Look at the car.

"It's covered in grass
and dirt and mud.

"What were you doing?"

"Oh," he said, "what happened
is... I'm a snake catcher.

"I had a snake in a bag there."

And he said, "And he got out and
he was crawling over my legs."

He said, "I bent
down to pick him up

"and when I bent down, I must've
wandered across the road."

They said, "Where's the snake?"

He said, "In the car. Do you
want to he! p me catch it?"

He said to the police.

They said, "Nah, you're right,
mate. Just go on your way."

That's what...

He was a wild man.

I heard a bit about him but
he was always in trouble.

He was always in trouble
with the police.

He used to go to school and
he got the cuts that many times,

his hands and everything, that he decided
that he wasn't going to get it anymore

so he didn't do anything to
the teacher but he just said,

"If you're gonna give
me the strap again,"

"you'll get the knife," you know?

That was about it.

He was always in... when
were in school, he was always...

You know, he'd be the
one that's there...

baring his behind to
the girls in the back.

He'd bend over and...

Well, he got expelled for that,
so that was the end of him.

I... I wasn't one of his molls.

But, um, I remember

how just going for one
ride in his panel van

would set you up with a reputation
for the rest of your life.

You didn't even really have
to do anything with him,

just be seen in his car.

So, one day when
I had to go the shops,

I heard his car coming along

and, um, started swinging
my hips a little bit more.

And he pulled up.

And he only asked me where
Jackie was, for God's sake,

and I just said,
"Oh, I don't Know where she is."

And I kept him talking
for a little while.

A couple of...

Susie and Rachel
went past in a car.

I leant right in the car
and sort of bent down

and touched the gearstick
and made out that,

you know, I was inside the car,
giving him a kiss.

And then when they went past, he
sort of drove off not long after

and I told people that...
that I'd fucked him,

that I actually had sex
with him that day.

And I didn't.

Like, he didn't even touch me.

The inside of the house was
just... torn to pieces, they told me.

Like someone had gone
through it in a fit of rage.

They said they found
drugs at the house.

Lots of ammo.

And on the walls there was
this weird pornography

and he got a cigarette

and burnt where their cunts were...

and their breasts.

He was naked when they found him.

They said he was just crazy.

He wasn't making any sense at all.

He had these shark jewels
around his neck.

His face was badly cut.

No-one knew what he'd
done to himself.

When the cops got there...

he just kept mumbling
over and over again.

"You see that tree?

"See that tree? That's my
mother's screamin' neck.

"You can hang me from that tree.
I don't give a fuck.

"You can hang me. I don't care."

That's just what I've heard.

"I'm fucking Boner and
don't you forget it."

God.

- Hi.
- Hi.

Where did you get that?

He thinks he's Clint Eastwood.

- Hey. Merry Christmas.
- Give us a hug.

- Hi, mate.
- Happy Christmas.

- Hi, Fenn.
- Mwah. Good to see you again.

Hey. Happy Christmas.

You too.

- Sorry we're late.
- No, you're just in time.

Just cracked open one of
Peon's new cab merlots.

It'll change your life.

It's so good to see you.

Oh, you too!

What's this?

I found it.

Back of Dads shed.

I never hit any of 'em but,
Christ, it's fun trying.

You're a good country boy.
You a shooter?

- Nah.
- Have a go.

Nah.

Rightio.

- Is that the ocean?
- Yeah.

Moving down here was the
best thing we ever did.

You grew up down here,
didn't you?

- Yeah, about 20 minutes inland.
- Get down much?

Nah. Not really.

You right?

Yeah, good.

Really?

'Cause you look like shit.

What are you doing?

Just thought I saw the old man.

Turns out I'm just getting old.

Jesus, you're 38, Vic.

Yeah.

So you're just never
going to talk about it?

What do you want me to say?

It's just so much good shit.

No, it's just because you want
to play with them. That's all.

Well, yeah. We didn't have any
of that stuff when I was a kid.

It was just Matchbox cars.

Oh, God, I wish
I had Matchbox cars.

I only had the Book of
Lamentations and... socks.

That's slightly cheaper
than what he's going for.

Well, at least I've got a wife

and Australia's largest mining
company to prop me up.

How is that going?

You should've seen it.

This boardroom was just filled
with Texans wearing cowboy hats.

- No.
- I fuck you not.

Giant bucket hats with string ties.

Just throwing around their cash.

See, that's where you need to head.

There's no shit fights
in the mining industry.

How's the nurses'
strike going, Vic?

Yeah, we're getting there.

Really?

It's more of a statement,
though, isn't it?

We'll see, I guess.

Vic Lang.

Man of action.

The defender of the people.

Gail.

You know, I did used to
shoot when I was a kid.

When I was about 14,
before my dad left.

We had this old Savage.

When he'd go off to work

and my mum would take my sister
up the shops, I'd pull it out.

Sit by the window.

I'd, uh... look down the sights.

People walking down the street.

I'd aim it at them. I'd...

load and cock it and I'd aim it at
people walking down the street.

That's what you wanted
to tell me now?

Another little childhood anecdote.

You're always bloody
doing the dishes.

Leave them.
I'll do them in the morning.

Nah, it's alright.

I'll do 'em... I'll do 'em now.

They know, don't they?

Was it Fenn?

I thought you said you
didn't want to know.

Was it?

What difference does it make?

Do it.

Do anything.

Being with you makes
me feel so lonely.

Pull.

Pull.

Pull.

Pull.

Bloody hell.

You ready, Emmy?

Yeah.

Ready...

steady...

Pull.

Although I do not
hope to turn again.

Although I do not hope.

Although I do not hope to turn.

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