Valentine

by Jodi McAlister

  ‘Cardy isn’t evil,’ I say, even though exactly the same thoughts have crossed my mind.

  Finn rolls his eyes. ‘Look, just because you want to marry him or whatever –’

  ‘I do not want to marry him!’ I snap. ‘Cardy’s my friend, okay? And he’s not evil!’

  ‘Then how do you explain the fact that he’s not in a coma right now?’

  ‘Well, he’s missing, isn’t he? Maybe he is in a coma right!’

  ‘So, what, you’re just incredibly weak and got coma’d immediately while it took him weeks to go under?’

  ‘Maybe!’

  ‘Forgive me for not thinking you’re weak!’

  ‘Forgive me for not thinking one of my best friends is evil!’

  We glare at each other for a second, breathing heavily.

  And then the enormity of the situation dawns on me. ‘Cardy’s missing,’ I say, sitting heavily on the bed.

  ‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘Cardy’s missing.’

  The words hang unspoken in the air between us. Two down.

  Two to go.

  ‘We have to work this out,’ he says, pulling a shirt over his head. ‘We have to work out what this problem is and make it go away.’

  I resist the urge to say I told you so. ‘How do you propose we do that?’ I ask instead.

  ‘I was sort of hoping you knew,’ he says. ‘You’re the smart one.’

  I take a breath and compartmentalise. ‘Look, we need to brainstorm everything we know about –’

  ‘Fairies,’ he says.

  ‘Well done.’

  ‘Don’t push it.’

  ‘I’ll do some more research. Obviously some stuff is going to be total bull, but we might get some useful info as well. And I need you to write down any of those hunches you get, or any of those things you just know – like Seelie or Unseelie or masking and stuff.’

  ‘Okay,’ he says, nodding. ‘I’ll Facebook it to you.’

  ‘Cool,’ I reply. ‘I think better when stuff is written down – I might be able to see something, like a pattern or whatever.’

  ‘Finn!’ his mother yells. ‘Breakfast!’

  ‘All my stuff is in your car,’ I say.

  He tosses me the key. ‘Here. I’ve got a spare. And if you get changed into your clothes and then make like you’re walking down the street, I can give you a lift home on the way to my brother’s soccer game, if you want.’

  ‘Don’t take me home,’ I say. ‘I don’t want them connecting you with me.’

  ‘I’ll mask you.’

  I shake my head. ‘How about you drop me at my sister’s office? She works at the Independent.’

  ‘Okay. But I’m still masking you.’

  ‘Sure, but I don’t think we should rely too heavily on that,’ I say. ‘Not with that dude with the Sight around. I mean, he can’t be everywhere at once, but still . . .’

  He nods. ‘Are you all right? After last night, I mean? And . . . Cardy?’

  I hesitate.

  ‘Finn!’ his mother yells.

  ‘Quick, out the window,’ he says, reefing up the blinds. ‘There’s a trellis. It’s easy to climb down – I’ve been using it to sneak out since I was ten.’

  ‘What if someone sees me?’

  Something like a smirk crosses his face. ‘Holly’s been using it to sneak out for years too. And –’

  I look down at my hands. I’m wearing Holly’s skin again. Great.

  ‘What is going on with you and her anyway?’ I ask.

  ‘Finn!’

  ‘Not now,’ he says.

  I’m practically halfway out the window when I catch sight of the trophies, all clustered on a shelf. ‘What’re those?’

  ‘Some soccer trophies,’ he says, ‘and, um, some trophies I won when I was little. Baby beauty contests.’

  I can’t help it. I snigger.

  ‘If you ever mention this to anyone, I will make you very, very sorry,’ he says.

  ‘Moi?’

  ‘FINN!’

  ‘Get out,’ he says, and practically shoves me out the window.

  I sneak quietly round the side of the house. I know I’m wearing a Holly-Anne suit and all, but I have no desire to be caught doing a walk of shame.

  I have a wave of deja vu so strong it nearly stops me in my tracks. It really hasn’t been that long since I snuck around Marie’s place trying to see if she was home, but it feels like an eternity.

  Marie. I’ve been so scared lately I’ve almost forgotten to miss her.

  ‘Finn, come on!’ I hear his little brother whine.

  ‘Hold your horses, Matty,’ he says exasperatedly.

  ‘Boys, don’t fight,’ his mother says. I watch through the window as she puts a cup of coffee down in front of Finn and another in front of his dad. ‘Drink up, come on.’

  ‘Mum, can I have coffee too?’ Matty begs.

  ‘When you’re older.’

  ‘How much older?’

  ‘When you grow chest hair,’ Finn says.

  ‘Not at the table,’ his mother says sternly.

  ‘Any more toast?’ his dad asks from behind a newspaper.

  ‘In the rack. Marmalade in the fridge.’

  ‘Ta.’

  ‘Is there anything that’s not toast?’ Finn asks. His mother passes him a box of cereal.

  ‘Mum, where are my soccer boots?’

  ‘Wherever you last put them – I haven’t moved them.’

  ‘Finn, you moved them, didn’t you? Where did you hide them?’

  ‘Why would I hide your boots?’

  ‘Mu-um!’

  ‘Boys, settle down.’

  ‘Where’s the marmalade?’

  ‘With the rest of the jam, in the door.’

  ‘Thanks, love.’

  So this is what family is supposed to look like.

  I wouldn’t change my life with Disey and Shad for the world. But watching Finn’s family . . . it’s fascinating to me.

  Ugh. Stop being so corny and get with the program, Linford.

  I shake my head to clear the cobwebs and sneak past the kitchen window to Finn’s car. I unlock it quietly and dress myself in the backseat, hoping none of the neighbours can see me . . . though, let’s face it, they probably wouldn’t be surprised to see Holly sneaking around here anyway.

  I need to pin Finn down and work out exactly where he stands on this whole Holly-Anne situation. I mean, she seems furious at him, but she’s also working for Team Bad Guys, and if they still have a thing going on, that’s really not safe.

  I check myself out in the rear-vision mirror. Holly is so goddamn beautiful, with her red hair and her translucent skin and her big doe eyes. I remember looking at her and Finn at our Year Ten formal last year and feeling bitter about how exquisite they looked together. No wonder he keeps going back to her, no matter how many other girls he dates. She’s the only girl who can even come close to matching his ridiculous hotness.

  I lock the spare key in the car so Finn can find it later, then run quickly up to the other end of the street. No black cats or birds or horses or anything jump out at me, so I assume I’m safe. I check my phone. I have two messages. One is from Shad asking what time I’ll be home and the other one is from Phil. Thanks for last night – it was nice to get out and about!

  I feel like the lowest scum on the face of the earth. Finn had to do that to her, I tell myself. We had to get away and talk.

  But it doesn’t make it any less wrong. Just like Marie won’t be any less dead if we find this thing and I won’t be any less bald and Cardy won’t be any less missing and Finn –

  ‘Come on, Finn!’ Matty’s voice drifts up the street. ‘We’re going to be late! I don’t want to have to sit out the first half!’

  ‘All right, all right!’

  I start my contrived saunter down the street. ‘You’ve got the oranges, don’t you?’ Matty asks. ‘The other guys will be so mad if we forget the oranges! It’s my week!’

  ‘Yes, I have the
oranges. And you have your lolly water –’

  ‘– it’s an energy drink!’

  ‘– whatever, and you have your boots and your lucky charm and whatever else you need. Can we go now?’

  ‘Hi!’ I say with false brightness.

  ‘Hi Holly-Anne,’ Matty says, sounding distinctly unimpressed. He is clearly a young gentleman of taste and discernment.

  ‘Hi,’ Finn says with mock casualness. ‘What are you doing in this part of the neighbourhood?’

  ‘Oh, I’ve just been at a friend’s place – just wandering down to the bus stop.’

  ‘Can I give you a ride?’

  ‘Sure, that’d be nice.’

  ‘Does this mean I have to sit in the back?’ Matty groans.

  ‘Yes,’ Finn says.

  ‘No,’ I say at the same time.

  ‘Yes,’ Finn says firmly. ‘Now get in, Matty, and quit your whinging, or we’ll be late.’

  ‘I always have to sit in the back when you pick up your girlfriends,’ Matty sulks, throwing his bag into the backseat and clambering in after it.

  ‘I’m not his girlfriend,’ I say firmly.

  ‘Yeah, sure.’

  I watch a slight smirk play over Finn’s face as he starts the engine and wonder if it would make any difference if I punched him in the teeth.

  ‘So – who are you playing in soccer today?’ I ask Matty brightly in an effort to change the subject.

  ‘You don’t need to pretend you care.’

  ‘Matty,’ Finn says warningly.

  ‘I do care,’ I say.

  ‘Derrigong East,’ Matty says sullenly.

  ‘So . . . you like soccer, hey?’

  ‘No, I play it because I hate it.’

  ‘Matty, I can always turn this car around right now,’ Finn says.

  ‘Yeah, but then you couldn’t take your girlfriend home.’

  ‘I’m not his girlfriend,’ I say. ‘So tell me more about your team. Where do you play?’

  ‘Right midfield,’ Matty says, exhaling long-sufferingly. ‘Sometimes I play in goal but I hate playing in goal – you never get to do anything.’

  ‘Except when your team is losing,’ Finn says.

  ‘But we don’t lose that much, ’cause we’re really good,’ Matty says. ‘Not like Finn’s team. They suck.’

  ‘Come on, we’re not that bad,’ Finn says.

  Matty rolls his eyes and sighs in a very ten-year-old way. ‘Finn, your team sucks,’ he says heavily. ‘Maybe you should go watch him, Holly. He’d probably play better if he had someone to impress.’

  ‘Aaaaand we’re here,’ Finn says. ‘Out you get, Matty. I’ll be back in a bit.’

  Matty slams the door behind him and we drive off. ‘Sorry about him,’ Finn says.

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ I say. ‘It’s fine. It’s kind of . . . it’s weirdly adorable, actually. Your brother’s kind of sassy.’

  Though is he really Finn’s brother? If Finn is a changeling, a fairy baby swapped out for a human one, then he and Matty aren’t technically related.

  He cracks a smile. ‘Don’t let him hear you say that. He’ll never speak to me again.’

  No. They might be different – I don’t know, species – but they are definitely brothers.

  ‘He’ll never speak to Holly again, you mean,’ I say, gesturing to myself.

  ‘Well, considering she’ll probably never speak to me again, maybe that’s okay,’ Finn says lightly.

  I bite my lip. ‘So this is kind of weird, but –’

  ‘No, we’re not dating,’ Finn says. ‘We haven’t been for a while. Which is part of why she’s so angry at me.’

  ‘Are you –’ I hesitate again. ‘With her working for . . .  I don’t know, the bad guys, are you – like, are you all right?’

  He looks sideways at me. ‘I thought you didn’t have time for my feelings, Linford.’

  ‘I –’

  I have time for your feelings, Finn, I imagine myself saying. And then he’ll reach over and lace his fingers through mine and bring them to his lips, because he has time for my feelings too, and he has time to give me feelings, and . . .

  ‘Are you all right?’ he asks. ‘With . . . you know, Cardy?’

  ‘Not even a little bit,’ I say honestly.

  We don’t speak again until Finn pulls up in front of Disey’s office. I’m about to get out of the car when Finn grabs my wrist. ‘Wait,’ he says. ‘Would it – how about I find something to occupy myself with in Phil’s neighbourhood today? If this is something connected to Julian, she’ll be his next target. And I promised you she wouldn’t get involved in this.’

  I feel something inside me crack. Without really being conscious of it, I hug him.

  ‘Thank you,’ I say, as his hand comes to rest on the back of my head – my bald, bandaged head, because this is me he’s hugging, not Holly-Anne. ‘That would – thank you, Finn. Thank you.’

  ‘You shouldn’t be here,’ Disey says when I tap on her office door. Her hair is practically standing on end, like she’s slept on it with product in and then done absolutely nothing to it since.

  ‘I know you didn’t want me going out, but I had to,’ I say. ‘I was going crazy, Dise, and I promise Phil and I didn’t get up to anything too epic – we just went to dinner, did some study, and then went out to breakfast this morning. And then I walked all of two hundred metres here. Nothing strenuous or in any way harmful, I swear.’

  You know what? I reckon They must actually be pretty stupid. Or at least deaf. How have they not cottoned on to the fact that ninety-nine per cent of the time when I open my mouth it’s to tell a lie?

  ‘I’m not exactly thrilled about that, but that’s not what I mean,’ she says. ‘You shouldn’t be here. Not right now. Not during this. Someone else from your year has gone missing. And I hate to tell you this, Pearlie, but –’

  ‘It’s Cardy,’ I say. ‘I know. I heard. We heard. Phil and I, I mean.’

  ‘Are you all right?’ Disey asks.

  I shake my head.

  But the truth is I don’t feel anything, really. My emotions haven’t caught up to my thoughts. Cardy can’t be missing. Cardy can’t be dead. My whole life has had Cardy in it, literally since the day I was born. My life can’t just stop having Cardy in it. That just doesn’t make sense.

  ‘I’ll call Shad to come and get you,’ Disey says, picking up her desk phone. ‘I can’t get away right now.’

  Still slightly petrified that Disey might erupt at me like a volcano for daring to set foot outside the house, I elect to wait for Shad in the foyer. My neck is stiff from sleeping on Finn’s floor. My eyes have that hot, scratchy feel you sometimes get when you’re overtired, and my brain feels foggy, like someone’s put it on slo-mo. What I wouldn’t give for one long, deep good night’s sleep in my own bed, without the threat of monsters coming out of the woodwork.

  I pull out my phone and determinedly start searching for fairy stuff. I don’t have time to waste on trivial things like being tired and emotional exhaustion and ongoing recovery from serious head injury and boy I might love being either evil or eaten. I’ve already worked out that Finn is a fairy, right? That means I can work out how to make this all go away. It’s only a matter of time before we nail it and everything will be all right and we’ll save Cardy somehow and all live happily ever after. Hard work and diligent application will solve everything, because life will be like the HSC if I think of it like the HSC, damn it.

  ‘Hi, Miss Pearlie!’ Helena says brightly.

  I scream.

  ‘Whoa, whoa, whoa!’ she says, laughing, as everyone in the room looks at me. ‘Didn’t mean to frighten you!’

  ‘What,’ I ask tightly, ‘is that?’

  ‘This little guy?’ she says cheerfully. ‘I’ve adopted him. He’s been hanging out here at the office with me for a few weeks now so he doesn’t get lonely at home by himself. His name is George. Isn’t he beautiful?’

  The black cat in her
arms stares at me with malicious glee in its evil little eyes.

  Oh God.

  ‘Want to pat him?’ Helena asks, scratching George between the ears.

  ‘Um, no thanks,’ I say.

  ‘Awww, not a cat person?’

  Helena was in the bar last night. When the sharktooth man was there. When Cardy was there. Helena was there when the black horse came for me. And she’s always asking me questions about my life and what I’m doing and trying to get close to me and dating my brother.

  I feel like I’ve solved a jigsaw puzzle, and the picture is horrible.

  Helena is one of Them.

  Oh my God. She really is a hellbeast.

  ‘Not really, no,’ I say, moving as far away as I can from them without looking like a total nutjob. My heart is pumping. She’s going to leap at me. She’s going to realise that I know and she’s going to kill me right now. ‘I’m, um – I’m allergic to cats.’

  ‘But Shad never told –’

  ‘I’ve never been diagnosed,’ I say in a rush. ‘I just – they make me sneeze, you know?’ I sniff. ‘The hair – it makes my eyes water – it –’ I fake what I hope is a believable sneeze.

  ‘Oh, you poor darling!’ Helena says, coming towards me.

  ‘Get it away!’ I almost shriek, and fake another sneeze.

  ‘Of course, of course!’ Helena says, jumping back. ‘I’ll pop him in my office.’

  She disappears down the hall and I start really seriously panicking. My bro’s gf, I text Finn frantically. Helena Thornton. I think she’s 1 of Them.

  R u sure?! he sends back almost immediately.

  ‘Can I make you a cup of tea?’ Helena asks, reappearing suddenly.

  I nearly drop my phone in an effort to hide it from her. ‘Don’t you have work to be doing?’ I say. ‘Everyone’s rushing around.’

  ‘I’m going to do some interviews, but I have to wait for Viv,’ she says. ‘I’ve got a minute. Let me –’

  ‘I’ll make it,’ I say hurriedly. Even if she isn’t one of Them, I’m not drinking anything she makes after the whole look-an-evil-cat-how-cute-I-love-him-hugs incident. It’ll probably be some kind of evil potion that will put me to sleep for a hundred years or something.

  ‘If you insist,’ she says. ‘Is that your phone buzzing? You should check it.’

  ‘In a minute.’