Hunting BLind: It's Every Family's Deepest Fear

by Richardson, Paddy

  ‘Coffee would be great.’

  She follows him along the path. He opens the door for her. It’s a handsome door. Heavy, dark-stained timber. This is the door Ellie found gaping open? This is the door a four-year-old was supposed to have opened, then walked through and across the path and down the ramp onto the beach into the sea.

  In her sleep?

  ‘Sit down. Sit down.’ He waves her towards a wide leather couch. She slides into it; soft, smooth, supple. ‘What kind of coffee?’

  ‘Milk, no sugar, thanks.’

  ‘Cappuccino, flat white, short black, long black? I can do whatever you like. I’ve got a bloody degree in how to use this machine. I promise you I can make a fairly mean coffee.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll try a flat white.’

  He pores over the machine while it whirrs and fizzes. He hands her a mug and winks. ‘Didn’t think a West Coast fisherman would know how to work a coffee machine, eh?’

  She grins back at him. ‘I’m amazed.’

  ‘Now. How long are you here in Westport?’

  ‘I’m not altogether sure. I thought I’d probably leave round the end of the week.’

  ‘Right. I’ve got a room for you ready at the lodge. Upstairs with a nice view over the bay from the balcony.’

  She feels her face flushing. ‘No. No, I couldn’t. I couldn’t afford—’

  ‘Afford? You’re my guest.’

  ‘It’s a very generous offer but I couldn’t possibly take it.’

  ‘Where are you staying now?’

  ‘The backpackers. Merv‘s.’

  He shakes his head. ‘Merv’s? You’re not bloody staying at Merv’s. Now listen, Stephanie. Can I call you Stephanie?’

  ‘Of course you can.’

  ‘I’m not having you stay at a bloody rat-hole like Merv’s. Not after what you’ve done for Beth.’

  ‘I did nothing at all out of the ordinary. Beth did it on her own.’

  ‘That’s not the way she sees it and it’s not the way I see it either. Beth speaks that highly of you. As far as I’m concerned you saved my girl. Having you stay a few nights in the lodge, by God, that’s nothing to what you’ve done for us.’

  ‘Mr Clark, that’s—’

  ‘Andy.’

  ‘Okay, Andy. I was doing my job. I don’t want any sort of repayment. I’m very grateful that you’ve offered this but I’d just feel embarrassed to take—’

  ‘I want to tell you something and I want you to hear me out. I lost my baby girl, right? You know that, don’t you? And then I lost my wife. Gracie and Ellie both gone. Then Beth gets sick and I think, oh dear Christ, here we go again, I’m going to lose Beth as well. Whatever you did, whether it was just your job or not, it worked. You made her well. I talk to her on the phone and I hear in her voice she’s going to be all right. More than all right. Now you’re here and I have my chance to say thanks. You can’t turn me down on this.’

  ‘But there’s no need to thank me.’

  ‘Let me decide about that. You get your gear and come out here for a few nights.’

  ‘Well—’

  ‘I’ll be expecting you for dinner at seven. Here’s the key. It’s room nine. Upstairs, first room on the right. There’s a hot tub on the balcony for when you want to relax.’

  ‘This is so generous. I don’t—’

  ‘It’s nothing, Stephanie. Nothing at all.’

  She packs up her bag at Merv‘s. She hauls the sheets off the bed takes them through to reception and puts them on the desk. The same woman is on.

  ‘I’ve got you down till Wednesday.’

  ‘I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to the lodge. To Andy’s.’

  ‘You know it’s way more expensive out there? ’

  ‘Decided to treat myself.’

  She grins at her as she walks out of the door.

  26.

  Andy is so hospitable it’s impossible to leave and she stays on past the weekend. It’s years since she had a real holiday and here she is in this massive room with the best bed she’s ever slept in, a soft sofa she can curl up on, a desk she can work at and a stereo, phone and television set. And stretching way out there beyond the window is the Tasman Sea, all silky blues and greens and silvery shadows. In the evenings she sits on the balcony watching the sky shiver pink and lilac before the sun tips over the horizon.

  Every morning there’s a basket outside her room. Fruit, croissants, packets of cereal and yoghurt. The woman who’s in charge of the lodge leaves it by the door early every morning. She’s pretty with curly hair standing out around her face like a copper halo. Holly. She’s usually there for dinner at Andy’s in the evenings; she helps him cook, though Andy tells everyone he’s perfectly capable of cooking alone.

  Stephanie goes over every evening. Anyone staying at the lodge is invited to dinner at Andy’s if they want to go, and it’s too tempting to stay away. So far she’s had crayfish, rock oysters, blue cod and the best lamb she’s tasted. And wine. Always good wine.

  She talks and eats and drinks more than she ever has and every evening she totters home, falls into bed and sleeps soundly and for hours. In the mornings she walks miles down the beach, striding along the ashen sand, breathing in the briny, fresh smell of sea, feeling the early spring sun on her face and arms and, as often as not, rain as well. Rain can hit at any time here and it pelts down, startling her skin, drenching her within minutes.

  She justifies the holiday by the efforts she makes trying to find him. She goes to the local high school. She’s a cousin, just passing through, her mum said he used to work here and she just wondered if? Who? When did you say? A forwarding address? No. Too long ago. According to records he’s been gone years. Photographs? No. They were all there in the library but now it’s being rebuilt. Sorry can’t help you.

  She phones the Ministry of Education. She holds onto the phone as she’s transferred from person to person, interspersed with muzak. She tries to sound agreeable, slightly ingratiating. ‘I’m on a committee that’s organising a school reunion. We’re trying to contact past teachers.’ This process is making her creative if nothing else. ‘The teacher I’m presently trying to track down is Edward Black and I was hoping you may be able to help with that.’

  ‘I’m sorry but we can’t give out that information.’

  This woman sounds at least vaguely receptive.

  ‘That’s such a shame. It would be so lovely to have him there.’

  ‘I’d help if I could but, you know, it’s the Privacy Act.’

  ‘He was such a favourite at our school and I just can’t seem to find him anywhere.’ She babbles on. ‘Oh, all this political correctness stuff, it just gets in the way of everything.’

  ‘You’re right about that. Doesn’t make my job any easier.’

  ‘Must be so frustrating. Could you, you couldn’t just tell me if he’s still employed as a teacher?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘I wouldn’t tell anyone. At least I’d know where not to look.’

  ‘Just a minute.’ Muzak again. ‘Uh, let’s say it’d be best to start looking elsewhere.’

  ‘Thanks so much for your help.’

  She drives into town, goes into the shops, the cafés, looks out for anyone young working there. She chats a bit nice place, I’m on holiday, lovely time, wonder if you know where? wonder if you could tell me? She has her spiel ready once they start to respond I had a friend, used to teach here at the high school, wonder if you knew him. She gets the odd shrug, the odd blank stare, sometimes a grin yeah, I remember him, he was the best teacher I ever had.

  All she knows is he was here for a while and he was popular. Nothing else.

  Holly. Wasn’t she someone Beth talked about? But is the woman running the lodge the same Holly? Stephanie likes her. She’s lively, cheery, chats to her in the mornings, suggesting places she may like to visit. She sees the way she and Andy are comfortable together. He pats her arm sometimes as she passes close to him and smiles at what
she says.

  Beth didn’t mention her dad being involved with anyone and, from what she said, Holly was a family friend. But this particular Holly seems so especially friendly that she appears to sleep at Andy’s house most nights. Stephanie waits until there’s no one else around and goes into the main lounge and pours herself coffee.

  ‘Can I get you a coffee as well?’ she asks Holly.

  ‘Thanks. I think I could do with a caffeine fix right now.’

  ‘Have you lived here long?’ Stephanie holds out a mug to her.

  ‘Yeah, just about all my life.’

  ‘You must love it.’

  ‘I suppose I could say I’ve just been too lazy to give it a go somewhere different, but yeah. Yeah, I do.’

  ‘Beth talked about a Holly she knew when she lived here. Was that you?’

  ‘Beth and me were great mates. I worked in the Tourism Centre then. Andy and Beth used to come in quite a bit when he was first getting the fishing business going.’

  ‘Beth didn’t mention you worked at the lodge.’

  ‘That’s just happened recently. Me and my husband separated a year or so ago. I had a job running motels but I wasn’t that happy working there. I hadn’t seen Andy for ages but I ran into him in town, got talking and he offered me this. It’s turned out fantastic. I love it and there’s accommodation for me and the kids as well.’

  ‘You’ve got children?’

  ‘Two boys. Right now they’ve got a week with their father.’

  ‘So you and Andy are old friends?’

  She grins. ‘Yeah, old friends. More than that now. Don’t know if you noticed anything.’

  Stephanie grins back. ‘I did wonder.’

  ‘Never thought it would happen. We’ve known each other that long. I’ve been really, you know, fond of Andy for years. But he was married and then I was, so I never thought anything like that would happen.’

  ‘He’s a good man.’

  ‘He really is. Poor guy’s been through a lot.’

  ‘Beth told me part of it.’

  Holly shakes her head. ‘Terrible. Losing Gracie then Ellie as well.’

  ‘I think I’ve got this right. Beth said you used to be at their place a lot around the time they lost the little girl. She said you were involved with someone who was a friend of the family. Was that who you were married to?’

  ‘Ward Black? God no. I was seeing him for a while but it didn’t last that long.’

  ‘Beth said he was very popular with everyone in town.’

  ‘May have been popular but he was a bit of an oddball. Not that I saw it at the time.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  She grins again. ‘A bit funny in the bed department. You know.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  She raises her eyebrows.

  ‘Come on, Holly, you have to tell me.’

  ‘Nothing much to tell. That was the trouble. I couldn’t work it out. Like, he was with me but he didn’t seem all that attracted to me. I used to fret myself sick I wasn’t good enough for him and he was going to leave me. You know what you’re like at that age when you think you’re madly in love.’

  ‘You were still with him when Gracie was lost?’

  ‘Yeah. He was pretty cut up about all that. He was good with Gracie. Always playing with her, throwing her up in the air and kidding about. I thought he’d be a good father.’

  ‘What happened to him?’

  ‘Dunno. Got another job and left not long after Gracie got lost. First I knew about him going was when I saw it in the paper. Dropped me good and proper. Funny Beth saying he was popular. I didn’t think she ever really took to him. She used to look real edgy when he was around.’

  ‘But Gracie liked him, obviously.’

  ‘Gracie liked everyone.’ She shakes her head again. ‘She was such a great little kiddie. Stephanie, I was hoping we’d have time for a bit of a chat. I wanted to ask you about Beth.’

  ‘She’s doing just fine.’

  ‘Not that. I always knew she’d come right. It’s about me and Andy. Like, she doesn’t know about us and he wouldn’t say anything, not while she was sick. What I was wondering is, do you think this will be okay with her?’

  ‘Holly, I can’t say exactly how she’ll feel but I think she’ll be happy. Very happy in fact.’

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘Yes, I do. She always spoke of you very warmly.’

  ‘Well, that’s okay then. Good talking to you Stephanie.’

  She pours more coffee and sits outside on the terrace. Saw it in the paper. Saw it in the paper. According to Holly he left just after Gracie was lost. Gracie went missing in November.

  She goes back to the newspaper office. Karen looks up and smiles, eager to please. ‘Is this for the book?’

  ‘I hoped I might check something else out. I know the archives room isn’t open right now but—’

  Karen gets up from her desk, takes the key from the hook. ‘Since it’s you.’

  December. January. She flicks through. The Santa Parade. Kids at the beach. There’s the occasional mention of Gracie, a tree planted in the Playcentre garden, a special church service to support the family close to Christmas. The New Year baby. The torrential rain affecting campers.

  Then at the end of January there’s an article in the local news section. Farewell to Popular Teacher. And there he is shaking the hand of a short chubby man wearing a suit, tie, white shirt. Kevin Cunningham, the school principal. Wide smiles for the camera. There’s no doubt. Ed Black is Ward Black.

  It is with reluctance. Many past students in attendance. Popular with both students and teachers. Regrets leaving a community which he has grown to appreciate and respect during the past six years. Very much missed. Presentation to show community’s appreciation.

  And there at the end of the article Mr Black will take up a position at the newly created College of Outdoor Pursuits in Kaikoura in the new year.

  She stares down at the photograph. He’s smiling, shaking the school principal’s hand, reaching out for the package. Small, square, looks like a book. He was always smiling. That boisterous, keen, ever-jovial voice hey guys.

  He looks so normal.

  27.

  She’s leaving for Kaikoura in the morning.

  There’s only three of them for dinner tonight, Holly, Andy and herself. Andy says since it’s the last night she’s there he thought it’d be good to be on their own for once. There’s slender stalks of asparagus, just come into season, and lamb. Andy does it on the barbecue, charred on the outside, pink in the middle.

  Holly leaves after dessert. ‘The boys are back. I need to make sure they’re not wrecking the place.’

  ‘Another drink?’ Andy asks Stephanie.

  She’s already standing, ready to follow behind Holly, ‘I’m leaving quite early in the morning. Maybe I should—’

  ‘Stay and have a brandy, Stephanie.’

  She hesitates then sits down again and smiles. ‘Yes. Thanks. I will.’

  He pours brandy into a glass and brings it over to her. ‘Since it’s just you and me here I was wondering if we could talk about Beth.’

  ‘I hate saying this but I can’t really talk about her with you since she was my patient.’

  ‘Nothing confidential. I’d just like to know what you think her chances are.’

  ‘Chances?’

  ‘Chances of her staying, you know, staying normal.’

  ‘I think she’s got about as much chance as you or I have.’

  ‘Is that right? What I’ve been most worried about is that it’s hereditary. You know about her mother?’

  ‘Yes, I do know, but even if she has inherited a mental illness it can be controlled. Beth is aware of her health. She wants to stay well and she has good support.’

  ‘I know she does. I helped move her into the flat, you know. She was like a kid at Christmas. Ellie wasn’t ever happy, not really. I did my best but she was, well, she was always highly strung,
if you know what I mean. The best she ever was was just before we lost Gracie. Then that happened and she was in and out of hospital, on so much medication she could hardly string a sentence together some days. It was hard on Beth. When she got sick I thought about all she’d been through. Blamed myself.’

  ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘You want to protect your wife and kids, don’t you? Want to look after them the best you can, then some bloody crazy freak accident happens and it all goes down the tube.’

  ‘A freak accident?’

  ‘Sleepwalking. You’d never think that would happen, would you? A wee kid sleepwalks out of a house and disappears? But that’s what the coroner thought was most likely and I suppose he must be right.’

  ‘You have doubts about it?’

  ‘Yeah, I have doubts. The catch on the door was a bit loose, I always meant to fix it. But it wasn’t that windy that night. I was out on an over-nighter. If the wind had been that strong I’d have felt it. But I can’t think of any other way it could’ve happened. It’s not like we’re living in a city where you have to keep your doors locked all the time, not like some bastard’s going to walk in off the street and take a wee girl out of her bed. Nothing like that could happen here. Anyway, that doesn’t bear thinking about. You’ve just got to stop blaming yourself and get on with things.’

  ‘Blaming yourself?’

  ‘Yeah. At first I went over and over it. I should’ve fixed that door, I shouldn’t have gone out that night. But where does all that get you in the end? Gracie was a sleepwalker. Other kids have been hurt that way, it was all through the papers when it happened. Ellie always blamed herself, of course. I truly believe that’s what killed her. When she got really down she’d go on and on about not locking the door, about how she wasn’t capable of being a mother, she wasn’t good enough, then she’d start on about it being God’s punishment. Terrible things. Didn’t matter what I said it didn’t make any difference, she’d sit there crying, saying she was being punished. I suppose it’s what mothers do, blame themselves even when they’ve done nothing at all wrong.’