by Anni Taylor
We’d made another stop on land, this time overnight, at a spot called Eden. Mr Basko and Mum slept in the same bed that night, the door closed.
I wanted to stay in Eden, the coastline looked so beautiful. But Mr Basko was steering the yacht back out to the endless ocean.
We played monopoly out on the deck in the afternoon. Mum won. She almost always won games when we played at home. Mr Basko tried to help me work out what to sell and buy, but my mother stopped him, telling him the best way for me to learn was on my own.
When the game was done and Mr Basko started steering the yacht again, Mum started cuddling him, telling him he was a different man than the one that’d left Sydney. She kissed him a few times on the cheek, the kisses getting longer each time.
“Going to go read my book,” I mumbled.
I was surprised she heard me. “Stay on the deck. You’ll start getting seasick again if you go in the cabin. Okay?”
“Yeah, okay.”
Taking my book, I wandered down to the other end of the yacht. I didn’t want to watch her kissing Tommy’s father. Phoebe’s husband. Maybe it was okay because Phoebe was going to jail and she couldn’t be Mr Basko’s wife anymore, but it was all so mixed up.
I hated to think of Phoebe going to jail. She’d been a friend to me.
I picked a sunny spot on the deck and sat cross-legged.
Mum glanced down to check on me a few times, but then she stretched out on a deck chair, content to watch Mr Basko and the ocean.
I’d only had three chapters left to read of The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making, and I finished the chapters quickly. Proud that I was up to the second book in the series already, I thought of going to tell Mum. But she seemed to have dozed off in her deck chair.
I hummed the tune from a song I liked as I headed down into the cabin.
A knocking sound made me pause mid-stair.
Tap tap tap tap
It was dull. But I heard it.
Did a bird get in and was trapped in a cupboard? Continuing down, I checked the cupboards and rooms. There was nothing at all here.
Looking through my box of books, I picked out the book I was reading next. Tracing a finger over the shiny new cover, I returned to the stairs.
Tap tap
The noise was coming from under the stairs.
From inside the cupboard with the hobbit door.
A thought flashed in my head. What if Mum was only pretending that she’d given the dog away and she’d actually brought it with us? Or maybe she’d already bought the new puppy that she promised me?
Something was making that sound.
I remembered Mum bringing home a few rescue dogs and cats before from the pound. But they’d always ended up running away or something. I’d been small then.
The lock had the key still in it. I could open the door and take a quick peek. But if it was a pup, I’d be ruining her surprise.
Tap tap tap tap tap
If it was a pup, maybe it was stuck. And I’d almost convinced myself it was a pup. If I went and told Mum about the tapping, she’d only be annoyed. I wasn’t supposed to go below deck at all.
I was going to peek.
Tiptoeing around and under the stairs, I ducked my head until there was enough space above me to stand almost straight. The key in the padlock was tiny. I had to be careful that it didn’t fall out and get lost. Because then the padlock could never be opened again. And Mum would know I’d tampered with it.
Gently, I rotated the key and removed the heavy padlock. Now, there was a wheel thing to spin around. It made a squeaking sound as I wrenched it.
My heart started to jump as I cracked the door open.
The cupboard was large, going deeper and higher than I expected. A soft-glowing light hung on the wall. There was nothing in there.
Wait. There was a yoga mat on the floor. A thick blanket hid whatever was sleeping under it.
It moved.
Its foot was under the blanket, kicking a metal tin that was as big as a barrel.
Tap tap tap
I drew closer.
I could see soft fur—very light in colour.
A golden retriever? A Maltese?
I knew all the dog breeds. I’d wanted a puppy forever.
The head was large and round. Too big for the small size of the dog. What kind of dog had—?
My feet glued to the floor.
It wasn’t a dog.
It was a boy. A little boy.
Here.
I didn’t even think about getting in trouble anymore as I knelt down beside him. He was asleep. Kicking the tin in his sleep. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
He was too hot. I tugged the blanket back. There were straps—wide straps around his arms and legs.
My throat hurt as I swallowed.
I felt the same way I did at Mia’s sleepover party, when her teenage sister put on a horror movie to scare us. We thought it was a joke at first, until we were too scared to speak or move.
This was all kinds of wrong.
And then I knew one of the things that were wrong.
I knew who he was.
He was a little bigger and different than last time I saw him.
He was Tommy Basko.
I couldn’t catch my breath as I backed away, the little boy’s name roaring inside my head. Hot tears sprung into my eyes and ran down my cheeks.
Why was he here?
I hated closing the door on him, but I didn’t know what else to do.
As I fumbled with the padlock, I heard someone on the stairs.
Mum rushed down the stairs, gasping angrily.
Her hands were around my shoulders and throat before I could even turn around. She shook me. Hard. Her fingers pressing in deeper.
“Luke!” I cried out. But my voice was muffled, spluttering.
She released me, roughly turning me to face her.
I coughed and breathed in sharply, holding my throat, protecting it from her.
Her upper lip trembled, her eyes switching from angry to alarmed and fearful. “Oh, Jessie, what did you make me do that for? It’s not me to do that. You know that. I didn’t expect you to disobey me. You caught me off guard.”
“You hurt me,” I accused.
She crushed me to her, stroking the back of my head. “Parents get pushed too far sometimes. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Okay?”
Her hold felt suffocating. I wriggled out of her arms.
“Jessie, are you upset by what you saw in there? We need to talk about this.”
I breathed in a tiny measure of courage, pointing at the hobbit door. “That’s Tommy Basko in there.”
“Yes, it is.” Tears wet her eyes as she nodded.
“Why? Why is he here?”
“Because he’s ours, that’s why.”
“He’s not ours. He’s Phoebe’s.”
“No, you don’t understand. Phoebe’s not well. She did bad things to Tommy. She wasn’t a good mother. So we had to rescue him.”
“The police think she killed Tommy. That’s why she’s going to jail. But she didn’t.”
“If he was there with her for much longer, she would have. You saw the news and all the cut-up teddy bears? That would have been Tommy. Someone had to keep him safe.”
I panted, leaning against the door. The cut-up toys had terrified me. A Phoebe that I didn’t know had ruined those toys. There’d been groups of strangers on our street for days, yelling out horrible things about Phoebe. I’d heard them when I was walking home from school. Everyone thought bad things about Phoebe.
I swallowed, tasting my own tears. “Tommy was the puppy upstairs, wasn’t he? We never had a dog.”
“It killed me not being able to tell you the truth. Yes, Tommy’s been part of our family all along. It’s been rough on me just looking after him.”
“What about Mr Basko? Does he know Tommy’s here?”
“Of course. But he was worried about how you’d react. He wan
ted it kept secret until we get where we’re going. You mustn’t say a word to him.”
She spun the wheel around and then replaced the padlock. Dropping the key in her pocket, she guided me away. “Go and dry your face. And remember, not a word to Luke.”
“Wait, we can’t leave Tommy in there. There’s not enough air.”
“The room has lots of air. He’s just one little boy. Boats are not safe for little ones to be running around on. He’s a lot safer where he is.”
“His dad thinks it’s okay?”
“It was his idea. Now go get yourself tidied up. We’re almost there. Not long now.”
49.
LUKE
YESTERDAY
Wednesday afternoon
MY FIRST CLEAR VIEW OF AB OVO terrified me.
What the hell was I thinking? It was remote, wild, empty. Jagged, rocky hills rose beyond a white beach peppered with sticks and orange-hued rocks. Wind had blasted the trees bare along the shoreline, thrusting their branches up and backwards like women’s skirts.
I’d brought a woman and her child here, and now I was responsible for them.
Pria said she’d organised someone to bring supplies each week from the mainland. But what if something happened and they didn’t? We had no phones with us, no point of contact, except for the yacht. We’d somehow lost both our mobile phones in the rush to get ready, but I doubted they’d work here on the island anyway. I’d been carried along in Pria’s bubble on the way here. But that bubble had burst on those forbidding hills ahead.
Ab ovo didn’t strike me as a place abounding in nature’s milk and honey. I went through a mental checklist of the fishing gear my father and I had on board. If things went badly wrong, at least we’d have fish. We had cooking facilities on the boat, lots of fire starters, and rope.
I calmed myself. I had backup. For the past few years, I’d operated to a plan. I needed that. The schedule. The planning. It was the way my father had done it. And he’d done all right for himself. Mum had always seemed happy and secure. I’d wanted that for Phoebe and Tommy. And now I had to provide it for Pria and Jessie.
Relaxing, I allowed myself to take in the beauty of the place. It was a wild, remote postcard view of a kind that few people would see in their lifetimes.
I sighted a spot to anchor the yacht and steered towards it.
Stepping up behind me, Pria put her arms around my waist, her face against my back. Jessie stood at the bow, her face more apprehensive than excited when she looked back at us.
“Land ho!” I called to Jessie, trying to cheer her.
Finally, she grinned, wind blowing her hair to and fro around her small face. I had to become like a father to this girl, but I didn’t know how. She reminded me of Phoebe at the same age. That wasn’t good. I much preferred she’d be like Pria and my mother. Open, with their emotions all on show. I could deal with displays of emotion. It was when those emotions were locked away I was at a loss.
Pria helped me anchor the yacht and get the blow-up boat ready to motor across to the island.
A family of brownish rabbits watched us take the first step on the shore.
Jessie ran to them straight away. I was relieved to see her do something childlike, instead of acting so adult as she did. The rabbits scattered among the orange-lichen-covered rocks.
Mentally, I added the rabbits to my list of food sources if everything went haywire.
Pria’s eyes were more alive than I’d ever seen them. She was extremely pretty with the sun on her pale hair. I grabbed her for a quick kiss while Jessie wasn’t looking. “Hey . . . we’re here.”
“Isn’t it incredible? Our own island.”
I stole another kiss. “Let’s go find the cabin.”
It wasn’t hard to find. Sharp steps led up from the beach to the house, half concealed behind trees. It would be murder taking all our stuff up those stairs. There was another way up, on the slope of a ridge.
The three of us dragged our bags up a grassy slope and along a barely visible track. The house, made of wood and stone, was larger than it’d looked from the photographs, with a clear view of the ocean. I could guess why the previous owners of the island hadn’t built at the highest point, even though it would have given them a 360-degree ocean view—the winds would probably have blasted them from all sides.
Inside, everything seemed clean and sturdy. It just needed a good airing. There were three bedrooms—one of those a loft, which Jessie immediately claimed. The furniture was comfortable, if old and dusty.
I whistled at the sight of the fireplace. Made of stone, it was a thing of beauty, soaring up to the high ceiling. “Gotta get a fire started.”
“Better check it for animals first.” Pria smiled. ‘Don’t want to scorch some possum’s butt.”
“I’ll head back to the yacht for the fire starters and matches. I’ll grab whatever else too.”
“No, I’ll go,” Pria told me. “You and Jess can get it stocked with wood.”
“Sure?”
“Yes, sure. I can see you’re excited to look around.” Tilting her head back, she looked up at the loft, where Jessie was investigating her new bedroom. “Jess, I want you to help Luke. And remember what we talked about, okay?”
Jessie glanced at me with tense eyes before nodding at her mother. I wondered if Jessie had been disobedient on the yacht or if she’d told her mother she didn’t like me. Either way, there was going to be a settling-in period. I wasn’t going to just fit in with Pria and Jessie overnight.
After Pria left the cabin, Jessie didn’t look at me much. I guessed the issue was that she was uncomfortable with me. I made a few attempts at conversation while we went out to collect firewood, but she kept giving me short answers and then busying herself, her back turned to me. I decided to give her some space.
Pria returned with a backpack and a large suitcase on wheels, which she took directly into the spare bedroom. She handed me the fire starters. “I brought across some boxes of food, too. They’re back on shore.”
“I’ll go grab them.” Glad to be relieved of the edgy atmosphere between Jessie and me, I quickly lit the fire and then left the cabin, jogging back down to the beach. I took three trips to lug the boxes up the hill.
Flames roared in the fireplace. A low, steady hum came from the generator—Pria had got it cranked up for the fridge and lights. She poured us both a glass of red wine. “To us and Ab ovo.”
“Cheers.” I grinned, clinking my glass against hers. “Where’s Jess?”
“She’s gone out to poke around.”
“On her own?”
Pria smiled widely. “There’s nothing that can hurt her here. It’s a sanctuary.” With a hand on my shoulder, she kissed me deeply and then tugged me into the bedroom. She had fresh sheets on the bed already.
We made love, breathing in the heady, enticing scent of wood smoke. I could make an easy guess that most of Pria’s barely controlled enthusiasm and energy during sex came from the excitement of her first day here at the island.
Afterwards, I stepped out onto the verandah, stretching. I imagined long days of sitting out here just taking in the view, like my dad on the porch at his cabin. I could hear Pria humming inside, putting things away in the kitchen cupboards.
I spotted Jessie down near the rocks, tossing a ball around. I’d have to put up a basketball hoop for her. It was lucky she was such a bookworm. I could see a young kid getting bored here after a few days.
Jessie rolled the ball along the sand, the ball disappearing behind a rock. She seemed to be gesturing to the ball, willing it to come back to her. She was either playing make-believe games, or there was a rabbit or something she thought she could train. Good luck with that one.
The ball rolled back. I straightened, mystified.
There must be another kid on the island. Pria was wrong that no one was living here—unless there were day trippers. But why would day trippers come here? There wasn’t anything special to see here.
Thoughts of drug smugglers flashed through my mind.
Get away from civilisation for a minute, and all crazy thoughts come flooding in.
Jessie rolled the ball a bit short.
The other kid came running out. A very young child.
A felt a twinge of disappointment for Jessie. The kid was maybe not even three years old. Rugged up in a knit hat and thick jacket.
The kid’s parents must be close by. Surely no one would let a kid this age wander an island on its own?
Shoving my hands in my pockets, I wandered down for the meet and greet of the family. If they did live here, I wanted to know who they were. I was starting to feel a bit territorial already. This was my island. Even if by association.
Jessie turned to me as I stepped onto the sand, her expression guarded, almost . . . scared.
I’d understood before when she was uncomfortable around me. But what was it that I’d done or said that had made her scared of me?
The child seemed scared of me, too, ducking behind the rock and peeking out.
There was no one up the broad stretch of beach in either direction. Okay, maybe they did just let their kids wander here. Who knows, maybe there’s a family on the other side of the island, raising up their brood like wild things, pushing them from the nest as soon as they could walk. After you’d had four or five kids, maybe you stopped helicoptering them.
For Jess’s sake, at least, I hoped there was a brood.
Jessie rolled the ball to him again.
Forgetting his shyness, he ran and tried to kick it, missing and then trying again.
Something about the way he moved reminded me of Tommy. But he was more confident than Tommy—better control of his body. Similar face, too, only his hair was much blonder, almost white.
He got it wrong when his kick connected with the ball, sending it in my direction instead of Jessie’s. He ran my way and then stopped dead still, staring with wide eyes.
I couldn’t look away. His eyes. Eyes just like Tommy’s. Just like Phoebe’s.
He pointed at me, the way Tommy used to point at everything.
“Daddy,” he said.
His word tore at me. I shook my head. “No, I’m not—”