by Lindy Dale
“In that case we seem to have a problem.” The receptionist put down the phone. She looked at me. “Paige left class half an hour ago. She said she was coming here to wait for you.”
Totally pointlessly, we both surveyed the empty seats of the Reception area as if Paige were going to pop from under one.
“Are you saying you don’t know where she is?”
“I’m afraid so.”
*****
“Call Karl O'Callaghan, Brian! Call Colin Barnett! Do something!”
Understandably, Adele was out of her skin with worry by the time I arrived back at the house an hour later. Even her herbal calming tonic didn’t seem to be helping.
“I don’t think calling the Police Commissioner or the Premier of Western Australia is going to do any good, Bunnykins. We need to stay calm and try to figure out where she might have gone. Maybe you could go and dig out her most recent school photo for the Police when they arrive? They’ll want a picture of her, for sure.”
Clearly, underneath that unruffled exterior, Brian was also beside himself. I’d only ever heard him call Adele ‘Bunnykins’ once in all the time I’d known them. He’d been very drunk.
“How would I know where the photos are? That ridiculous au pair we got when Millie left the first time re-organised the whole of the storage cupboard. I’m lucky to find a handbag these days.”
Feeling the need to be doing something, I stood. “Why don’t I go and have a look? Would you like me to ask Cook for a cup of green tea for you on my way past?”
Adele gave a limp smile. “Would you? You are a dear.”
After giving the instructions to Cook, I walked down the hall to the storage cupboard, opening the door when I got there. It was more of a room really, and used to be sorted in alphabetical order according to categories, somewhat like a library of stuff rather than books. At least while I was searching for the photos I’d be able to contemplate the situation in peace. Maybe get some clue as to where Paige might be.
I wandered down the first row of shelves, stopping where I thought the photos would be. If I could think like Paige for one minute, I was sure I could figure out where she’d gone. I mean, there were only so many places in Perth she deemed suitable. Maybe she was hiding out in the backyard? She’d recently remodeled her cubby into a church and we’d played weddings with her dolls the last time I’d been there. It was worth a try.
Pulling a random cardboard box marked 2011 from the shelf, I lifted the lid. Bingo. It was filled with photos. I chose a plastic sleeve and took it from the box. It was the last class set she’d had taken probably about six months ago. I flicked through the envelope of pictures. The very last one was of a toothless Paige, looking extremely annoyed at having to have her photo taken. She’d been livid the day that tooth fell out. Even new ribbons for her pigtails hadn’t appeased her annoyance at not having a perfect white smile for the shoot.
I wondered again if she could be hiding in the back yard? And if she wasn’t there, where else would she go? And why? Like her mother, Paige always had a motive. If I thought back over our last conversation, I might get an inkling as to her whereabouts. What had we talked about that morning? Well, Sam for one. The wedding. One Direction. The Logie Awards.
Oh my God. I knew where she was.
Jumping to my feet, I ran the longest hundred metres of my life down the hall and back to the living room. Breathless, I stopped. Adele was holding a cup of scalding tea and staring out across the entertaining deck in a daze. Brian was pacing. I tossed the bunch of pictures onto the coffee table.
“These should do,” I gasped, “but if my thoughts are travelling straight, I think I might know where she is. Can I borrow the car?”
Putting down her cup, Adele stood. Suddenly, she was back in business. “I’m coming too.”
Brian put a hand around her waist, guiding Adele back into her seat and handing her the cup. “No, Adele. It’s best if we stay here and wait for the Police. If Millie finds Paige, she can ring us but until then we need to be putting out every feeler we can.”
Adele sighed heavily. She dabbed at her watery eyes. “I feel so useless.”
“It’ll be alright, honey. Millie will find her. You’ll see.”
Digging his hand into his pocket he handed me the keys to his BMW. “Go get her. Bring our baby back.”
I took the keys and raced out the front door.
*****
Three kilometres from the house, an orange warning light alerted me to the fact that the car needed petrol. Of all the times. I studied it for a second considering whether or not to ignore it. I’d never driven Brian’s car before but most other cars let you go for fifty or so kilometres before you ran out. Would I have enough if I didn’t stop to fill up? Deciding not to risk it, I turned into Thomas St and pulled into the BP Service Station. It was better to be safe than sorry and knowing my luck I’d run out in the middle of the freeway or something. I’d never get to Paige in time then.
After two wasted minutes looking for the button to open the petrol cap, I unhooked the nozzle and began to fill up. I didn’t have time to do a whole tank. Ten dollars worth would be plenty for the moment.
“In a hurry, are we?” the attendant asked, as I threw my savings card at him after filling up.
“Just a bit.”
“Make sure you drive safe, then. Accidents don’t get you there any faster.”
“I’ll remember that.” I nodded and ran out the door to the car. The quicker I got back into the car, the quicker I would get to Paige. Eyes locked on the road, I made my way into the traffic.
A couple of hundred metres further down the road, Brian’s car began to make a horrendous chugging noise. It spluttered in a most un-BMW way and as I pulled to the side of the road it gave a final cough and refused to drive another centimetre. Shit. Shit. Shit. What the hell was going on? I had no idea about cars apart from where the petrol, water and air went in. How did I fix this? Biting my lip, I tossed up whether or not to call Brian. I didn’t want to worry him and Adele any more and besides, the Police would probably be at the house and they’d be talking.
There was another person I could call, of course. Sam’s flat was a minute away by car. I know I’d recently shoved his heart in a blender but surely he’d come if I explained what had happened? Failing that there was begging.
Fingers shaking, I slid my phone from my pocket and found Sam’s number. I heard the ringtone and that wave of nausea that had left an hour or so before returned with a vengeance. I gulped it down. Please answer, I pleaded silently. Please.
It went straight to message bank, which, of course it would, given that I’d been a complete bitch two hours before. I mean, why would he want to talk to me? I wouldn’t answer his calls if the shoe were on the other foot. I sat for a minute biting my lip. Then, I tried his home phone. He didn’t have caller I.D on that so hopefully he wouldn’t know it was me.
After three rings, it picked up.
“Hello?”
Sam’s mother. This was not what I needed.
“Um, ah, hi Patricia. It’s Millie. Look, please don’t hang up. I need to talk to Sam. It’s urgent.”
I could feel the ice from her voice spreading through my fingers as I gripped the phone.
“Sam does not wish to speak to you. And quite frankly, I think you’ve done enough damage for one day.”
Yes. I knew that. I didn’t need to be reminded. What I needed was some help. I took a deep breath.
“I realise I’m not the most popular person right now, but…”
“Not popular!” she screeched into the phone.
“This isn’t about me or the wedding. Paige is missing. I need Sam.”
“Millie?” Sam was on the phone. Patricia must have had it on speaker or something. “What’s up with Paige?”
“I went to pick her up from school after I left you and she’d run away. Adele and Brian are beside themselves. They’re talking to the Police now. But listen, I think I know wher
e she is. I just can’t get there.”
“Why?”
“Brian lent me his car and I filled it up with petrol and now it won’t go.”
“What did you fill it with?”
“Petrol!” God, was he going deaf with his injuries or something?
“Brian’s Beemer is diesel.”
Fuck.
“That’d explain why it won’t work then.”
I wanted to vomit. I wanted to bang my head on the steering wheel until it bled. I’d been so concerned with getting to Paige I’d tucked that minor ~ yet vital ~ fact into the recesses of my brain. If I had one. “I know it’s a lot to ask but can you come get me? I’m only round the corner from you in Thomas St.”
“I’m in the car already.”
*****
After I climbed into Sam’s car and buckled my seatbelt, I realised that he looked even paler than he had at lunch. I wanted to believe that it was because he was worried about Paige but I knew I was kidding myself. He was hurting and it was my fault. Unable to stop myself, I reached over and put a hand on his knee. He shrugged me away.
“Are you alright?” I asked.
“What do you think?” His eyes stayed focussed on the road. “Anyway, this isn’t the time to discuss it. Where’re we going?”
“The airport.”
For the first time, he turned to face me. Beneath his bruising I could see the redness rimming his eyes. He’d been crying.
“She’s seven, Mill’. She’s not going to be at the airport.”
“She’s also obsessed with One Direction and fairly pissed off that her friend Jennifer is going to see them at the Logies Red Carpet.”
“And how do you think she’d get a plane ticket? I’m gathering we’re talking about her going to Sydney?”
“This is Paige, Sam. How did she manage to order a ‘flipper’ from the U.S. to be sent over in time for the wedding so that she’d have a perfect smile in the photos?”
“Yeah. I forgot how resourceful she is.” He turned back to the road and continued to navigate the peak hour traffic in silence. It was only twelve kilometres to the airport from Subiaco. It felt like fifty.
Twenty-five minutes later, we parked the car in the one hour parking and raced to the Qantas terminal. It was a long shot but I figured she’d be there. Paige knew the ins and outs of the Qantas Club like it was her own bedroom. She’d never go on Virgin Airlines. It was way too low rent.
Eyes searching the queues, I ran towards the first available counter, barging my way in front of a woman who looked as if she’d like to throttle me at the imposition.
“Excuse me but you haven’t seen a little girl wearing a green checked school uniform, have you?”
The skinny man behind the counter kept his voice to a monotone. “We do have protocol. Can you get in line, please?”
“We’ve lost a little girl,” Sam butted in. “And we need to find her. We think she may have bought a ticket to Sydney.”
“No child would be allowed to buy a ticket over the counter.”
It was pointless. We weren’t going to have any luck with him.
“Never mind,” I said, grabbing Sam’s hand and pulling him towards the escalators that led to the gate lounges. If Paige were waiting for a plane, she’d be there for sure. Or the Qantas Club.
At the top of the stairs, we stopped and I led Sam away from the landing. We needed a plan and we needed to make it now. Yes, Perth Domestic Airport was pathetically small and under resourced as far as retail outlets went but it would be quicker if we split up.
“Have you got your phone on you?” I asked Sam.
He pulled it out of his pocket.
“I propose we split up. I’ll go up to the Qantas Club. You take the shops and the café. If one of us finds her, we ring the other. If not, we meet here in ten minutes and panic.”
Sam nodded and before I could say anything more, he’d headed off into the Australia Shop. At least for once, I knew he wouldn’t be looking at the Wallaby rugby jerseys.
At the top of the next escalator, behind sealed glass doors was the swanky entrance to the Qantas Club. Technically, I couldn’t get in without an invitation or a membership but that didn’t mean I couldn’t stand in the lobby and look. The room was reasonably empty for that time of day and it wasn’t hard to see who was inside. A couple of men in suits sat at the bar and on the other side of the room, two or three people stood with plates at the buffet. I craned my neck to get a better view. Behind the last woman was a very small thin pair of green-stockinged legs. It was Paige. Lined up at the buffet like she did it every day of the week. The little monkey.
“Excuse me, may I be of assistance?” An attendant wearing the obligatory Qantas uniform, complete with scarf knotted at a jaunty angle on her neck, addressed me.
“Yes. You can. That little girl in there, Paige Richards-Shaw, is my charge.” I pointed through the door. “She ran away from school earlier today. Her parents are at home with the Police right now. I’ve come to collect her.”
“Oh my. Can I verify your name?”
“I’m Millie McIntyre. Look if you want to ring her parents, go right ahead but she shouldn’t be here.”
The attendant consulted her computer screen. “It seems she’s booked in as an unaccompanied minor on the 4.10pm City Flyer to Sydney.”
“That would make sense. She wants to meet One Direction.”
“Who?”
“The boy band.”
“Oh. Look, everything sounds okay but I can’t release her to you without some parental consent. An adult must have bought her a ticket, after all.”
“No. I think she bought it herself. She’s a bright little thing.”
I handed my mobile over to the attendant who pressed the button to dial Adele and Brian. I could hear the relief in Brian’s voice as they spoke.
“Yes,” the attendant nodded. “I’m with Millie now. Paige is quite safe. Okay. Right. Thanks.”
She hung up the phone and handed it back to me.
“That seems to be in order. I spoke to the Detective too. I’ll just go and get her for you.”
“Thanks ever so much,” I smiled.
Then I called Sam.
A minute or two passed and Paige appeared at the door. I ran to hug her. “You are so naughty. What made you think you could hop on a plane by yourself? Mummy and Daddy were so worried about you. We all were. Even Sam’s been helping.”
Her face dropped at the realisation of what she’d done. “I wanted to go to the Logies. And you and Sam aren’t getting married anymore, so I didn’t need to be here.”
“You’re a little girl. You can’t go off around the countryside.”
“I’ve been on a plane by myself heaps of times.”
“You know what I mean. It’s dangerous. Anything could have happened.” Then I remembered. “How did you get the ticket anyway?”
“Mummy’s credit card. I know the numbers by heart. I remembered them from when she got me to order the Fair Trade coffee beans from Brazil.”
“But when did you get time to do that?”
“In Maths. Jennifer’s a dufus at sums and while Mrs. Sutton was helping her I went on the Internet on my iPad and bought a ticket. All I had to do was go to the library at lunch and print it out.”
She seemed rather pleased at her own ingenuity.
“You do know you’re going to get punished for this? It may mean the end of Logies watching on Sunday night.”
Paige paled. “They wouldn’t.”
“They might. Guess we’ll have to wait and see.”
Chapter 22
After Paige had been safely returned and given a stern talking to by her parents, Sam and I sat on the sofa in the tiny living room that was attached to my bedroom at the house. It seemed like only yesterday that we’d had that ‘night of passion’ after our fight. I had thought Sam was cheating on me but the whole time he’d been with his dying grandma. Our entire relationship had been filled with moments like
that. Misconceptions that lead to assumptions that led to arguments. We were both quick to jump to conclusions and I’d thought we were getting better at seeing the positives rather than the negatives. Until last Saturday. Now, I had to find a way to apologise, to make Sam understand that I did love and want to marry him.
“I want to tell you something, will you listen for a minute before you speak?”
“Is it another tirade about what a liar I am? Or have I done something else?” He looked at the wall like a sulky child. It was patently clear he wasn’t going to forgive me easily.
“No. It’s nothing to do with that. Going off and playing last Saturday was the last thing in a long line of things. I was right to be cross with you for doing that because you have wrecked any hope we ever had of having nice sensible wedding photos but I was wrong to say what I did.”
Sam seemed to relax.
“I love you Sam. And I’ve thought about this a lot over the past few days, so much that it made my head hurt, in fact. I know I’ve been very confused. My brain’s been like mush. I want to marry you but I don’t want a big fancy wedding. I don’t want to be the centre of attention and be on Sixty Minutes. I want to be us.”
I went on to explain to him all the things I hadn’t before. I hoped he believed me when I said I’d never meant to hurt him.
“So you’re blaming this on stress?”
“No. I blame myself for getting caught up in it when I didn’t want to and then treating you like shit over, well, nothing. I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?”
“You still want to marry me?”
“Only if we can have a small wedding with our TEN closest friends and family on the beach at the house in Lombok.”
“And a massive get together at the club when we get back?”
“Definitely. For a week.”
“My mother won’t like it.”
I had to stand up for myself now. “I don’t care. It’s our wedding. Anyone who doesn’t like getting sand in their toes can stay home.”
Sam smiled. “Now that’s the girl I know and love. Welcome home, Babe.”