by Ellie Marney
Marco is owl-eyed and shirtless, and his hair is sticking up. ‘Ren? What are you–’
‘Zep Deal has been arrested at Lost Souls for breaking and entering.’ I keep my voice steady, controlled. ‘He was trying to get personal belongings from his father’s office. Now Vas Cavendish has him. They’re going to hand him over to the police. But there’s also a strong possibility they’ll hurt him before the police arrive–’
‘Zep’s been arrested?’ Fleur comes to the door, wearing the shirt that Marco apparently forgot to put on. ‘Goddammit. Okay, don’t stand on the step, Ren, come inside. Marco, can you fire up the espresso maker?’
She pulls me into the van, sits me down on the couch in the living room and gives me a tissue to blow my nose.
My hands are shaking, but I’m beyond being embarrassed. ‘I don’t know if they’ll hurt him. They might not want it to look too bad for the police. But if Zep receives another conviction, he could end up–’
‘In jail, right.’ Fleur wraps a terry-cloth robe over her sleepwear, pulls her long, dark hair out of the collar. ‘How do you know all this?’
‘I was there. I offered to help him get his things. Zep hid me in a magic box when security came.’
‘And then you snuck out and came back here? Did you drive? Jesus, Ren.’ She gestures for Marco to return, hands him her phone. ‘Call Kate from legal. We need to get Zep away from Lost Souls and jump on this before it de-rails the arson case.’
Sial–the court case! I’d forgotten that was even happening. And I was the one who encouraged Zep to take action…
Oh my god, what have I done?
Fleur is still sorting out arrangements with Marco. ‘Did Zep sign all the forms for the workshops and the mini-show? He should still be covered for legal as a Cadell’s employee.’
‘Yeah, that will work. But an arrest might complicate his status as a witness.’ Even when he’s not wearing a shirt, Marco is all business, phone at his ear. His face changes as someone comes on the line. ‘Hi, Kate, sorry to disturb you at this hour, but a situation has come up…’
Marco walks back into the kitchen to talk. I sag here on the couch, feeling guilty and bewildered. Fleur sits across from me and pats my hand.
‘It’ll be okay. Zep’s legal is covered. We just need to find out where he is in the system.’
‘What if he’s still at Lost Souls?’
‘Then we get the police down there asap and explain that Zep is being held against his will–that might be the best outcome, legally. But he might already be under arrest. That will make things more awkward, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.’
I swallow hard. ‘Will this screw up the arson case?’
‘Honestly? I don’t know. Maybe. But the important thing is we get him away from Cavendish–Zep’s physical safety comes first. Then we’ll figure out how to get him out of custody.’
I rub my clammy hands over my velvet-covered knees. ‘I offered to help Zep get his belongings. We had to get into his father’s shipping container–’
‘Stop.’ Fleur holds up a hand. ‘Maybe it’s better if you don’t tell me all the details of this escapade. Then I’ve got nothing to share if the police ask.’
‘Oh, god.’ I clutch my stomach, feeling sick.
‘Can you at least tell me what Zep was trying to retrieve from Lost Souls?’
I almost tell, but then I don’t. ‘It was…a box of photos. Personal photos. There might have been some documents in there as well.’
Fleur takes my spit-balling and goes with it. ‘Okay, so we can say that Cavendish wouldn’t hand over Zep’s personal belongings, and Zep felt as if he had no choice but to go in without permission. That sounds both plausible and unthreatening.’
‘And if they hurt him before the police show up–’ I have to steady, blink a few times. ‘If they hurt him, it will look like unnecessary force.’
Fleur nods. ‘Yeah, that won’t play well. Legal will be all over that.’
‘Right.’
She squeezes my hand. ‘He’ll be okay, Ren. They won’t have him long.’
I’m still nauseous. By hiding me, Zep is going to bear the full brunt of Vas Cavendish’s anger. And I’ve left him there to deal with that, alone. Plus I’ve exposed him to arrest, and endangered his standing as a witness in the arson case…
What was I thinking? How could I have forgotten something as important as the arson case? Why didn’t I consider all the risks before I suggested this hare-brained scheme?
I cover my face with my hands. ‘Kamprettt, this is terrible.’
‘Ren, hey…’ Fleur rubs my back. ‘Calm down. It’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out.’
‘What happens now?’
Fleur’s gaze becomes more focused. She can do that, I realise–she can transition smoothly between being personable and light to being professional and serious. Apart from trapeze, it’s her particular skill.
‘It might take some time for things to get untangled. If Cavendish throws the book at him, I don’t know if Zep will be out of lockup tonight. But Kate will probably try to whittle it down to a trespass charge.’
‘It looks bad, doesn’t it, if he’s caught breaking and entering? Will he still be able to stand as a witness?’
‘Well, it’s not great.’ She frowns. ‘But it was Angus Deal’s friends–Cavendish’s employees–who attacked Zep the night of the workshop. The police already have that on record, and it might work in our favour.’
So there’s a glimmer of light in this scenario. But I don’t want to get too hopeful.
Fleur goes on. ‘If Zep is charged, Kate will probably work in the bad history between Angus and Zep and Lost Souls, and explain to the judge that Zep is a valuable performer who’s needed here on the night of the re-open, that we’ll vouch for him–’
I sit up straighter. ‘You’re giving him a spot on opening night?’
‘Of course we’re giving him a spot.’ Fleur snorts. ‘C’mon, Ren, you were there during the mini-show, you saw him perform. I was going to offer him the spot today. Dad would be an idiot not to take on that act–’
I interrupt her by hugging her. I’ve never hugged Fleur before, but my response is completely spontaneous.
And then I feel the hard lump against my breastbone, and realise that in this whole disaster, in all the kerfuffle and the panic and the stress, I haven’t had to use my inhaler at all.
Not once.
After a long series of complicated phone calls, Fleur takes a break and walks up to do a raid on the mess.
She returns with half a dozen pastries in a bag. I can’t quite stomach the idea of eating pastries while Zep is at Lost Souls, maybe having his fingers broken. But Fleur convinces me that I’ll be no use to anyone if I pass out from low blood sugar. So we eat pastries and drink coffee in Marco’s van while continuing to make calls, waiting for news of Zep’s whereabouts.
At about six a.m. we discover he’s being held at a CBD police station. Another round of phone calls ensues, and Marco dresses to visit the station. Fleur contacts Mitch Gibson about redistributing the work on the Spiegeltent that Marco is supposed to be doing today.
Then they send me back to the dorm, with strict instructions to get some rest.
Sunshine is warming the buildings on Tinpan Alley as I walk home. I have to keep reminding myself that it’s Tuesday. I’ve been awake for more than twenty-four hours. It feels like a thousand years have passed since Zep and I first sat in the car, arguing over whether or not I should accompany him to Lost Souls.
Back in the women’s dorm, I shower, and change my filthy clothes. Gabriella takes one look at me, then forces me to tell her what happened. She confiscates my phone, which turns out to be necessary because I really do need some rest but I’m too keyed-up to sleep. I’ve been running on adrenalin for so long, I have to do some
stretches in my pyjamas before the twitches fade and I’m able to relax. Once my brain realises there’s nothing more I can do, and no more news, I crash hard.
I only wake up when Sorsha knocks on the door and pokes her head in. ‘Hey, I come bearing caffeine.’
‘What time is it?’ I push back my hair and rub my eyes.
‘It’s about two in the afternoon. I figured I should wake you before it gets too late, or you’ll end up nocturnal.’
I sit up and take the coffee. All my limbs seem to be made of cast iron. ‘Thank you so much. Is there any news?’
‘Not yet.’ Sorsha settles on the bed. ‘But Fleur said it was a high-traffic day at the station. And the offences are murky–they want to charge him with going equipped for theft, possession of lockpicks, trespass, burglary and theft, but if he was trying to get back his own property, most of those charges won’t stand. Unravelling it all could make things drag out.’
She’s speaking from personal experience. You wouldn’t know to look at her, but Sorsha has been in legal trouble herself–serious trouble. Everyone on the lot, and her boyfriend Colm, supported her through it. I’m sure it’s not a topic she’s interested in revisiting, but I need to know.
‘So what happens now?’
‘Zep will probably be held at the station until his bail hearing. The timing of that will depend on the volume of cases going through, and whether his lawyer fights the charges now or tries to get them thrown out at his arraignment. And his juvenile record might complicate things, if they decide to impose bail conditions. Marco is going back again to see Zep, and find out if he can be any help–’ She pushes on my shoulder to stop me from rising. ‘No, Ren, you can’t go, and you shouldn’t. Fleur wants to keep your name out of it.’
‘But I’m an eyewitness–’
‘And you might be called on to give a statement explaining Zep’s motivation to enter Lost Souls illegally. But if Cavendish and the police don’t know you were there, then let’s keep it that way.’ She makes a dry grin. ‘We’re trying to maintain a strict quota of one circus performer on arraignment at any given time.’
I sink back with a sigh. ‘I feel like I should be doing more.’
‘Ren, you’ve done heaps. Notifying Fleur straight away will be the key to keeping Zep out of jail. I know it’s tough, but now all you can do is wait.’ She tilts her head. ‘And I hate to remind you about this, but you have something to do, right? Don’t you have an exam on Thursday?’
My eyes open with a snap. ‘Yes. Oh god, I have to study.’
‘Good.’ She nods firmly as she stands. ‘It’s good you have something to keep you occupied. Get up, wash your face and get to work.’
I set the coffee on the nightstand and scrub at my eyes. ‘Okay. Okay, I can do that.’
‘Oh, and call your folks.’ She tosses my phone on the duvet over my knees. ‘Gabriella let all your calls go through to voicemail, but your family has tried to reach you, like, fifty times.’
I groan.
‘Call them straight away is my best advice.’ Sorsha smiles. ‘Hey–you broke into Lost Souls right under Vas Cavendish’s nose. You can handle your family.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Don’t worry about doing the thing. Just do the thing.’ She leans down for a quick hug. ‘And I’m around anytime you want to talk.’
As soon as Sorsha closes the door behind herself, I push myself higher on the pillow and examine my phone. I’ve had five calls from my mother and one from Santi. I think I know why they’re calling. I swallow hard.
Don’t worry about doing the thing. Just do the thing. I cross my legs and press Call Back.
My mother picks up within three rings. ‘Ren! Finally! Ada apa? Kenapa? Did you lose your phone? I was getting worried.’
‘I’m sorry to make you anxious, mama,’ I say, with deliberate calm. ‘I had my phone turned off. I have a big exam on Thursday and I’m trying to study without interruptions.’
‘I am not an interruption, Ren. I am your mother.’ But my mother sounds less frazzled now. ‘Your exam is important, I understand. But text me next time, so I don’t get so nervous. I’ve been calling because I have good news. Don’t you want to hear it?’
‘What’s the good news, mama?’ I brace for impact.
‘Your uncle has managed to buy another ticket on his flight back to Denpasar!’ My mother says this as if she’s announcing she’s just won the lottery. ‘He was checking his arrangements and there was a cancellation, so he bought the ticket. Now you can fly back together. This is so wonderful, Ren! It’s a sign of good things. Only one spare ticket, and now it’s yours!’
A light trembling starts in my shoulders and floods outwards. I have to take a breath. The air is sharp in my lungs, like acid. ‘That is very considerate of Uncle Agus, to buy the ticket. But, mama, I haven’t decided yet if I want to go to Bali.’
My mother’s voice changes. ‘What do you mean you haven’t decided? It’s the perfect job for you! We discussed all the details on the weekend, Ren. You are being stubborn.’
‘No, mama, I’m not being stubborn. I remember the discussion and the details, but you said I would get to decide for myself. And I haven’t decided yet.’
‘Then you must decide quickly. We have an extra ticket now. That should make your decision easier.’
I try to keep my voice steady. ‘Mama, I need more time to think. It’s only been a few days. And I have a good job here, and friends, and commitments… I don’t know if I want to go to Bali and leave those things behind.’
My mother’s tone is biting. ‘You are being very foolish. Any girl would jump at the chance to work in Bali, living in luxury in a big hotel. But you want to be difficult. It puts me in an awkward situation with your uncle.’
‘I just need a little more time, mama. It’s very hard to make big decisions like this when I’m preparing for the re-open and trying to study…’ My words sound thready, a little pleading. ‘But I will feel better after my exam. I will make a decision then, okay? I will call you this weekend and tell you. Just give me a few more days.’
‘All right.’ Mama seems mollified. ‘I suppose you will be clearer in the head after your exam. But I will expect you to call me at the weekend, Ren.’
‘I will call you, mama. You can rely on me to call.’
‘No more turning off your phone. It makes me worry.’
‘All right, mama. I’m sorry.’
There’s a note of hurt in her voice. ‘I thought you would be excited about this, Ren.’
‘I am excited. Truly.’ I have to fight nausea to get the words out. ‘But it’s a big decision and I don’t want to rush it.’
‘Well, that is fair.’ Mama sighs. ‘But I don’t understand you sometimes, child.’
‘I know, mama,’ I say softly. ‘I know.’
Seven
About two hours after the phone call with my mother, I understand exactly how much trouble I am in with this exam.
Human Physiology and Biomechanics is one of the core subjects for this portion of my degree, and I am not on top of it. But the exam is on Thursday, whether I like it or not.
After showering to make myself feel more alert and less panicked, I call Sorsha to tell her I’ll be holed up in my room for the foreseeable future, and to contact me if she hears anything about Zep’s case.
‘What about dinner?’
‘I can’t make it to the mess.’ I braid my hair, with my phone on hands-free, then start stacking books. ‘I’m so far behind, you have no idea.’
I stare at my desk. My anatomy charts have been neglected for almost a week. My notes are not up-to-date at all. Having always considered myself a good student–efficient, organised, goal-focused–it is distressing to realise that I am, in fact, an idiot.
‘You can’t study properly if you don’t get some sustenance,’ Sors
ha points out. ‘Okay, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to study. I’m going to bring you a dukey box from the mess later tonight, plus a thermos of coffee. And I’ll talk to Judy Wilkinson on the serving line about getting you some hot drinks and snacks after hours, so you don’t perish.’
My throat gets thick. ‘Thank you so much, Sorsha. You’re an amazing friend.’
‘Hey, that’s what friends do. It’s what you did for me. Now, go–study like the wind. I got your back.’ I hear the grin in her voice as she disconnects.
Then there’s nothing left to do except sit at my desk and work.
I ‘study like the wind’. That’s an inappropriate analogy. I don’t believe the wind ever has to study. If it did, I can guarantee it wouldn’t groan and sigh and get sleepy like I do. My concentration is fractured: too much of my mental capacity is taken up by thoughts of Zep, and where he might be, and what he might be coping with.
I’m also thinking about the arson case, and the look on Fleur’s face when she found out Zep had been arrested. Then there’s my mother and my uncle, and the pressure coming from home… I have to make a decision, and soon. It doesn’t seem possible, under these conditions, to decide anything with certainty.
Sorsha comes to my room around eight, tells me there’s no additional news from Fleur about Zep’s case and asks about my progress. My breathing starts to crank up while I’m explaining everything on my To Do list–I try to calm myself. The last thing I need right now is to have another asthma attack.
Being behind on my work is terrifying. It throws me off balance. But by midnight, I’m starting to understand the enormity of the task at hand, and I’ve taken some steps to manage it. Drawing up charts, making lists and sticky-noting references helps me feel as if I’m imposing order.
At about one in the morning, I force myself to sleep. I lie in the dark, thinking ahead to an early morning and more work to make this deadline. I try not to think about Zep, and the arson case, and how stupid I’ve been.