Losing Faith (Surfers Way)

by Jennifer Ryder

  I say goodbye to Uncle Marco and Lily and hand the keys to Ricky so he can drive my car home when he’s ready.

  On the way back to Quade’s, I ask him to drive down Picnic Parade towards Acacia Avenue.

  “What for?” he asks as he turns onto the street.

  “Just wanna take a look at something. Can you slow down a bit?” I tell him a few doors down from the house. I take in the surroundings of the street, grateful that the neighbours seem to be out. All the lights are off in the Whittaker household.

  When we’re two houses down I ask Quade to pull over. Once the car is stationary I open the door and turn to Quade. “Wait here.” Keep the car running, I feel like saying, but I know that would freak him out. He’d probably think I was robbing the place.

  “What are you doing, Lace?”

  I’m going to come out and ask Mr Whittaker what his connection is to Faith.

  “Um, killing my curiosity. Just be a minute. Wait here.” I close the door which muffles Quade’s response.

  I knock on the front door. After a minute, no one has answered. Stepping off the porch, I look around to the garage. Light beams from a small rectangular window on the side of the old tin building with rusted gutters. Maybe he’s in there.

  Quade jogs towards to me as I march to the garage door. I wrap my knuckles against the tin.

  I’m tugged back by the elbow. “What are you doing at the Whittakers?’” he whisper-growls in my ear.

  “He’s been leaving flowers at Faith’s grave. I need to talk to him.” I stand on my tippy-toes and spy through the window. A large mound is covered with a tarp. Is that a car under there? Why isn’t out in the open?

  Goosebumps dart over my skin as I face him. “I need to get inside.”

  Quade shakes his head, but doesn’t let go of his grip. “Lace, you gotta let this go. Leave the old man alone,” he says, tugging me back towards the street.

  I pull my arm free. “No, Quade,” I say through gritted teeth. “I need to do this. He used to drive, years ago … I have to see what’s in there.”

  Quade lifts me up and throws me over his shoulder. I silence my scream by biting on my lip, and channel my frustration by bashing my fists on the rounded muscles of his bum.

  “Put. Me. Down,” I growl.

  “No. Enough,” he says in a rough voice.

  I squirm farther down his back and squirrel grip between his legs.

  His legs give way and we crash to the ground. Thankfully, the lush lawn softens the impact.

  “Lace, you’re gonna get us in serious trouble here. I could lose my job over something stupid like this.”

  “Then go back to the car,” I spit out, pointing towards the road.

  He shakes his head and pushes a puff of air from his nose. “You are too stubborn for your own good. Let’s just go.”

  In quick steps, I walk towards the garage door. I can’t turn back now.

  “Try and stop me. If it’s unlocked, it’s just asking for it. He might as well have left the door wide open.”

  I grip the handle to turn. It doesn’t budge. Dammit. Defeat washes over me as I look down at my feet. A ripple at one corner of the mat catches my eye. I peel back the black rubber to reveal a tarnished bronze key which lies amongst a pillow of dust and dead leaves.

  Is it really going to be this easy?

  With a shaking hand, I snatch up the key before I lose my nerve. It slides into the lock, like it probably has a thousand times before.

  “Lace,” Quade warns, placing his hand on mine. His eyes plead for me to back down.

  “I need to finish this, Quade. If the answer is behind this door, not even you can stop me.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  The door protests on its hinges as I pry it open. Quade is beside me, peering around to get a better view. He’s just as curious as I am.

  My heart is beating so crazily now that all I can hear is the sound of blood rushing in my ears.

  On closer inspection, the giant mound is covered in an old canvas which is splashed in drops of white paint. Tires are visible from the side. I clutch at my chest.

  Could this be it? Is this the car?

  I lift at a corner and rip the canvas off. Dust flies into the air, tickling at the back of my throat. I cough as the dust settles.

  It’s an old-fashioned white Holden. The car is not in great shape.

  There’s a large dent to the front edge of hood. A side mirror is broken and dangling against the side of the car—the mirror inside, gone.

  Gulp.

  I get down on my knees and face the front bumper bar, inspecting the damage. White paint. Mirror gone.

  I can’t believe the yellow roses led me here.

  “The damage seems consistent,” I mutter to myself. There’s no blood or anything, but the car is pretty clean. He probably have washed it after … oh God.

  I swallow down. This was the last thing Faith saw before …

  Her eyes …

  “This car … Mr Whittaker was responsible for killing my sister?” Quade says, his voice thick with emotion.

  I stand up and wrap my arms around his waist. He can’t take his eyes off the car though. I should’ve thought about how this might affect him. In all seriousness, I’ve been chasing the answers for so long that actually finding what could be the murder weapon … it’s surreal at best.

  “We don’t know that for sure, but—”

  “You think it is though?” His glistening blue eyes focus on my face.

  “I think so.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Yeah, fuck, alright,” I say, and blow air from my mouth as I shake my head. What now?

  “What do we do now?” he asks.

  I take in a deep breath and harden my resolve.

  “We go see Wilson.”

  ---

  When we get to the police station Wilson is behind the desk, squinting as he looks at the computer screen. It’s as quiet as a library in here. Is he the only one on shift?

  “Wilson, can we have a word please?” I say in a soft voice. Normally I’m in his face, but given what we’ve just discovered, I think I’m still in shock.

  Wilson looks up. His shoulders drop as he sighs in frustration. “Lacey, I haven’t got time for games.”

  Quade squeezes my hand tight. “Wilson,” he says in what I can only put down as a serious teacher voice. “You need to listen.”

  Wilson looks to me, his expression bored. “Okay, what now?”

  “I think we found the car,” I tell him. “You need to get a search warrant for the Whittaker house on Acacia Avenue.”

  Wilson stands up and walks to the side of the office and raises the end of the counter. “You two better come with me.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  On sunset, the surf rats float out three giant wreaths of white flowers. We bow our heads and remember, three years on at our beloved Runaway Beach. Some memories of Faith have faded, but some will live forever. As I watch the wreaths float away, it’s like losing another small piece of my heart. I grit my teeth, pushing myself to hold it together. Having Quade by my side gripping my hand as if it was a life preserver makes this year a teeny bit easier. Just.

  After a few hours of mingling, the mood has shifted from sombre to more spirited. Alcohol has a way of doing that. The bonfire crackles in the distance, smoke spiralling into the cool night air. The constant chatter of my classmates competes with the crashing waves and squawking seagulls.

  Quade has been raving on all night about how many people are here. I think the anniversary has been more emotional for him than he thought. So many people have come up and said hi to him and reminisced about memories of Faith. He’s laughed. He’s had the occasional tear, but a smile has never been far from his face. Quade has been my rock today, and I hope in some way I’ve been there for him.

  Eden has been flittering from group to group. I’d asked if her boyfriend was here but she’d flat out ignored my question and instead told me tha
t I had to try one of the double chocolate peanut-butter cupcakes that she’d made. Of course I couldn’t resist. Is an orgasm by food possible? No wonder she was so pre-occupied with them.

  I look over to the fire where Lily sits with Byron’s sister, Katrina. They seem to be hitting it off, which is really cool to see. You can always use more friends.

  Friends.

  I’ll never have another friend like Faith. She was one of a kind.

  “I’m just going for a quick walk,” I tell Quade, squeezing his hand.

  His eyes fill with concern. “Want me to come?” he offers, sweeping his strong arms around me.

  A sigh falls from my lips as I rest in his arms. “No, I just need a minute to myself. Is that okay?”

  “Fine by me. I’ll be waiting right here for you.” He leans down and kisses me on the forehead, leaving the warm imprint of his touch on my skin as I walk farther down the beach.

  I follow the trees and veer off into the dark. Every year I do this. Retreat to the darkness of night, listening to the waves crash as I cry. Every year I bleed tears until no more will fall.

  But this year is different. This year I’m stronger. Deep down I know Faith wants that for me. To be strong. To charge ahead. To have faith.

  I cross my arms, hugging my sides. This year I won’t let today derail me.

  Taking slow steps, I walk back to the party, stopping just out of sight. Mesmerised by the fire, I take a moment before joining the group.

  A shadow appears to my right and stops. I doubt she even knows that I’m here, lurking with my solemn thoughts. My heart blooms at the opportunity. We might finally get a chance to talk.

  I turn my attention back to the fire. “I miss her so much,” I say loud enough for Mack to hear.

  For the longest time, neither of us utter a word. As the waves roll to shore, a feeling of calm floats between us. It feels strange to be here, together in silence, but I’m grateful she’s not running this time. If I thought she’d be receptive to it, I’d wrap my arms around her. Hug the crap out of her and tell her how much I’ve missed her, too. How she took a piece of my heart with her when she left.

  Voices around the fire cry out “To Faith!”. Glasses clink as a few people cheers. The wind picks up in the trees. I should say something, but what?

  “Lacey, I’m sorry I was such a dick. I ran away, and while I thought it was what I had to do at the time—while I thought I didn’t have a choice—I did,” Mack says and turns to face me. She sweeps her hair from her face, battling with the breeze.

  Why did she think she didn’t have a choice?

  “I’m so sorry for not being there, Lace. I’m so sorry for giving up on us.”

  One side of my mouth curls into a smile, but it quickly fades. I shake my head and let out a breath. If she’s being honest, then I need to be too. If we’re going to salvage our friendship, move on, then we need to talk. Really talk. “Her death was hard on all of us. I get that; I really do. But I hated that I didn’t just lose one best friend that night.” I blink several times, trying to ward off tears. “I lost you, too.”

  Mack draws in a stuttered breath. “God, I am so, so sorry. I wish I could change what I did, but we can’t rewrite the past.” She takes a pause, her thoughts taking her somewhere else. “All we can do is plot how we move forward.”

  I stare into Mack’s eyes and give her a small nod. “Let’s start by moving forward over there then, huh?”

  One step at a time.

  Mack extends her arm and laces her fingers through mine. My heart pumps harder, as if recognising a dear friend is near. I squeeze her hand tight, my smile growing wider with every step towards the bonfire. In this moment, I give myself permission to have hope, to have faith that these are the first steps of us mending our friendship. We have a long way to go, but I know in my heart that one day, we could be best bitches again.

  We join the group around the fire which is about twenty-or-so people. I sit down on a blanket beside Quade, Mack sitting beside me. Quade nods, looking between Mack and I. His smile and the soft kiss to my temple that follows tells me how happy he is that we’re finally connecting.

  Everyone has a funny story or something to say about Faith. Some memories make us laugh, some make me tear up. No matter how many times I’ve heard these accounts, I’ll happily hear them over and over again. We will never forget you, Faith.

  Before I know it, Mack says her goodbyes. As if we’re both afraid that the other will bite, we ease into a hug. I sigh as the emotion of it washes over me. Mack asks me to meet her for coffee tomorrow. I agree, unable to respond with more than a casual “sure”. Things between us might just be okay. It’s a start.

  Mack hugs Eden and then leaves.

  “Glad you two finally got a chance to talk,” Quade says as he pulls me to my feet.

  I dust the sand from my shorts and look my gorgeous boyfriend in the eye. “Yeah, me too.” Tomorrow I might finally get some answers about my old friend.

  When I think this night couldn’t get any more perfect, that’s when I see him approaching the bonfire. A shudder runs through me, a chill resting in my bones.

  Why is he here? I mean, I know why, but I didn’t invite him. Did Eden?

  “Mr Kelly,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper as he steps within metres of Quade and I.

  Quade reaches for my hand and grips tight. I arm myself for what he might have to say about all of this.

  “Quade. Lacey,” he says with a nod.

  “What are you doing here, Dad? I thought—”

  “It was time,” Mr Kelly says, and offers me a soft smile. He looks around at the celebration, hordes of people sitting around a campfire and down the beach, celebrating the life of a friend we all lost. “Everyone is here for our Faith?”

  My shoulders drop as my defences fade. He’s not here to attack us.

  “Yeah, Dad. They’re here for you too, you know. For our family,” Quade says and looks around. “Is Mum coming?” Hesitation is clear in his tone.

  Mr Kelly gives Quade a tight smile. “She said she’d try, son.”

  Wow. She’ll try? Every other year they’ve flat out refused to be a part of it. If Mr Kelly is telling the truth, then this is a big deal.

  Mr Kelly draws Quade into an awkward hug, and then it’s my turn to for a serve of awkwardness.

  “How’s your mum doing?” he asks me.

  Goosebumps prickle at my skin. I take a deep breath to settle my nerves. I need to remind myself that it’s not Mrs Kelly’s fault that my mum ended up in a hospital bed. Mum had been a ticking time bomb, and like the doctor said, it was better she was at work when it happened rather than home in Runaway.

  Mr Kelly releases me from his embrace, which helps with the breathing issue.

  “She’s okay. She’ll be taking it a bit easier the next week or so, but then she should be cleared to go back to work.”

  “Good to hear, love.” He places his hand on my upper arm. “It’s touching that you and Eden continue to do this, Lacey. To honour her memory.”

  “Of course,” I say and nod. Wow. I can’t believe this man is finally acknowledging something that I’ve done when it comes to Faith.

  “And I owe you an apology. It seems we might finally have some answers.”

  “What do you mean?” I don’t want to come straight out and talk about Mr Whittaker. It’s up to the police now. I have to leave it to the professionals, and even though all signs point to him, it’s not my role to determine his guilt or innocence.

  “I had a call from Sergeant Wilson this afternoon. They received some information from an astute member of the community”—he widens his eyes at me—“and as a result they brought someone in for questioning. Wilson wasn’t forthcoming with the details, but with the new evidence that has come to light, he said it’s likely that the coroner will reopen the inquest. ”

  “Wow,” I breathe. It’s only been twenty-four hours since we went to Wilson. Surely the forensic examiner hasn�
��t finished their examination of the car. Unless … Did Mr Whittaker confess?

  Mr Kelly places his hand on my shoulder. “Thank you for persisting, Lacey.”

  “My Lace is going places,” Quade says proudly and smiles. “Any day now she’ll have her Diploma in Legal Studies, and then the skies the limit.”

  “I’m sure that wherever you end up, you’ll be an asset,” Mr Kelly says.

  Aw, how nice of him to say. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  “Faith would be so proud,” he says and nods. He looks to his son. “Of both of you.”

  It took losing Faith to find myself.

  Mr Kelly mumbles goodbye and disappears towards the path to the car park. For a moment Quade and I stand there, dumbfounded.

  “Did that really just happen?” Quade says.

  “Yup.”

  I glance around the party, and then look to the magnificent display of stars above us.

  There’s still something missing. Something that I know my friend would want me to do. Today of all days.

  “Quade?”

  “Uh-huh?” he says, pulling me into his warm embrace.

  My brows pull together as I work out how to pose my question. “How do you feel about nudie runs?”

  PROLOGUE

  Three months later

  I roll over, hiding from the morning light.

  “So?” Quade whispers.

  I pry one eye open. He’s looking at me exactly like he did last night when he asked me the same question. Oh boy.

  “Are you finally going to say yes?” Quade asks. Again.

  Anyone would think he’d caught a case of Lacey Marone Persistence, that according to Quade has become legendary in Runaway.

  “I’m messy,” I blurt out. “Like, seriously, apocalypse kind of messy. I don’t wash up until there’s not a single plate or bowl left in the cupboard. My cooking skills extend to pizza and sliced meats on a platter.”

  “And you’re worried about this, huh?” His blue eyes hone in on mine. He smirks as he does, flaunting sexy dimples all over the place.