Glancing over my shoulder, I head down the path and call out a hello when I reach the gate. When no one answers, I open the gate carefully and slip through. The path leads all the way along the side of the house, and at its end is a stretch of lawn, more flower beds and a few gardening tools left lying around, and around the other side of the house is the shed.
A shiver moves down my spine. It’s strange seeing it from this perspective; it’s much larger than it looks from across the creek, more the size of a granny flat than a shed. Could it be that Erica has simply moved in there, that Samir and Erica are living separately? My gut tells me there’s more to it than that.
My focus hones and I take a step forward, knowing without making a conscious decision what I’m about to do. I look up at the house, scanning the windows of both floors and finding them empty. Heart pounding, I cross the yard. As I near the shed, the door opens and I stop in my tracks. Shit!
Erica emerges, blowing her nose. Her eyes are downcast so it’s a moment before she spots me. Her eyes widen and she quickly turns and shuts the door behind her.
‘What are you doing here?’ she says, furrowing her brow. Her eyes are red-rimmed and puffy as if she’s been crying. Then, as if realising something, her expression hardens. ‘This is private property.’
‘I’m sorry, I … I just wanted to ask you some questions.’
‘Questions?’ Erica eyes me quizzically.
Thinking on my feet, I blurt, ‘Er, I just wanted to ask you … You see, I saw Dee that night and she said you were minding Ruby.’
Erica cocks her head to one side. ‘Sorry?’
‘She came over on Wednesday night, but the thing is, it was around 11pm, after you said you last saw her. She came alone, and when I asked where Ruby was, she said you were minding her that night.’
Erica narrows her eyes. ‘Well that’s obviously wrong, isn’t it?’
‘I … I don’t know. Is it?’
‘What are you implying?’
I lift my hands in supplication. ‘I’m just trying to see whether … whether Dee made a mistake, or … I mean, she couldn’t have left Ruby at home alone, surely?’
Erica shakes her head and sighs. ‘Delilah Waters was a very troubled person.’
‘So I hear,’ I mutter.
‘She wasn’t coping with the baby. Didn’t want her in the first place,’ Erica’s voice has a bitter edge. ‘She should have known better. Why bring a life into the world if you can’t care for it? God knows what she’s done, run off or killed herself or something, but if something’s happened to that child …’
‘With all due respect, Mrs Haddad, you can be troubled and still be a good mother.’
Erica looks primed to argue when suddenly her shoulders slump and she sighs. ‘Yes. You’re right, I suppose. I just … I worry for Ruby. She’s only a baby, innocent in all this.’
A cool breeze makes me fold my arms across my chest. ‘She is. It’s so sad.’
The leaves of the trees lining the fence rustle as a trio of magpies land in their branches. Erica looks towards them and smiles. ‘I get cross with Dee sometimes, it’s true. I just wish she knew how lucky she was. If I had what she had, I’d count my blessings every day.’
There it is again: the use of ‘was’. ‘What does Dee have that you don’t?’
Erica sighs, a sad smile touching her lips. ‘Do you know … my David would have had his twenty-first birthday this year.’
A coldness settles in my stomach. ‘Oh. David was …’
‘My son, yes. My first son. He died before he was born. A miscarriage.’
‘Oh gosh, Erica, I’m so sorry.’
Erica gives a small shrug, but her lips are pressed thin. ‘Then came Lucy, then Amanda. And … and Sean.’ Erica’s lip trembles and she turns away. ‘We lost them too.’
I gasp. Four babies. She lost four of them. It’s unfathomable. Too big, too awful for words. ‘That’s terrible. I’m so very sorry,’ I offer feebly.
I place a hand on Erica’s arm and she stiffens. ‘It is what it is. They’re still with me as long as I think of them. I’m still … still their mother, even if they aren’t here anymore.’
‘Of course, you are.’
‘I planted one for each of them,’ she gestures to the four trees. ‘It sounds silly, but it makes me feel closer to them. Having something living to tend to, to talk to.’ She shrugs. ‘Samir thinks I’m mad, but it helps. It does.’
I smile. ‘I can understand that. It must be hard sometimes, being around Ruby when you must miss your own babies so much.’ Perhaps this goes some way to explain Erica’s behaviour. I soften towards her as I imagine what she must have been through.
Erica looks at me strangely. ‘It’s not hard. It’s wonderful. I love being around babies. I’m very good with them.’
‘I’m sure you are! Sorry, I didn’t mean … I just wondered whether you might feel … I don’t know … a bit envious?’
I glance at the shed and Erica’s wistful expression evaporates. ‘Not at all. I love Ruby, but I know the boundaries. I’m just helping out a troubled woman look after her baby.’
‘Okay, okay. Sorry. That was over-stepping. It’s very kind of you to help out.’
Erica steps towards the garden bed and reaches up to caress the leaves of the smallest tree. Her back is to me so I can’t see her expression.
‘It’s a very large shed you have there,’ I say, trying to sound neutral. ‘It looks a lot smaller from across the creek. What do you get up to in there so often?’
Erica turns and looks at me sharply. ‘What did you say?’
‘Oh! I just … I’m not being nosey, but I couldn’t help but notice you spend a lot of time there, that’s all.’
With narrowed eyes, Erica looks out across the water and back at me. ‘Have you been spying on us?’
‘No! Of course not. I only meant …’
‘So, let me get this straight. You’ve been watching us, and now you’re trespassing on our property.’ Erica’s hands are clenched at her sides.
‘I’m sorry, I wasn’t spying,’ I lie. ‘I was only—’
Erica holds up her hands. Her face is white and pinched with fury. ‘I think you should leave.’
‘S-sorry,’ I stammer, stepping backwards. ‘Maybe I could come back another time.’
‘No!’ Erica’s shout is almost panicked. ‘Please … just leave us alone.’
As I turn to leave, I catch an emotion other than anger as it passes across her face.
Fear.
Chapter 27
Liz
June, 2017
Wednesday, 7:45pm
‘You should have seen the look on her face. And then she kicked me out!’
Adam’s chuckling into his wine glass as we sit at the dining table.
‘It isn’t funny!’
‘Well you have to admit, it was a bit much of you, Liz.’
I sigh. ‘Yes, perhaps. I feel bad for her. I do. I was insensitive,’ I admit, chewing a fingernail. ‘She’s been through so much. Four babies! I can’t even imagine how you’d survive that. But that being said, you have to admit it gives her a motive. I can’t help thinking she knows more than she’s letting on. And she really didn’t want me seeing whatever’s in that shed. When I asked her what she does in there, she properly panicked.’
‘Maybe she’s stolen the baby!’ Adam crows.
I throw my napkin at him. ‘Stop it. I can’t believe you’re joking about this.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Adam stops smiling. ‘That was off-colour. Did you really accuse her of being jealous of Dee?’
‘Not exactly. I feel sorry for her, but you should see what she’s written on Dee’s Facebook page. Totally inappropriate. And what if something has happened to her? Even if it was suicide. Shouldn’t people have more empathy? Instead they’re running around calling her a whore and a bad mother. It’s disgusting.’
‘Lizzie,’ Adam reaches across the table and takes my hand in his. �
�I can’t say I disagree with you. But I’m getting worried. Spying on the neighbours, trespassing …’
‘It wasn’t really trespassing …’
‘Lizzie, both of those things are illegal. You’ll be lucky if Erica doesn’t call the police.’
I bite my lip and take a slow sip of wine. Is he right? Am I crossing a line?
‘In all seriousness, darling,’ Adam says softly, the humour gone from his eyes, ‘Can you please just try to leave this with the police? I’m this close to dragging you down to Sydney for the rest of the week. We have a bit of money now.’
‘No! Adam, that’s not for spending.’
‘Then what else is money for?’ Adam’s eyes twinkle.
I roll mine at him. ‘Saving. Besides, we’re not out of debt yet so it’s not real money.’
‘Fine, spoil-sport,’ Adam pretends to sulk. ‘Really though, I know this Dee business is awful, but we didn’t know her and we have our own lives to live. The police are doing all they can. As for you and I … we should be thinking about the future. We’ll be out of here in a week’s time, and just imagine all we’ve got to look forward to once we’re home.’
‘You’re right,’ I try to smile.
I look out at the Haddads’s home, with the shuttered blinds. Something is going on over there, and I’m going to find out what it is.
***
Friday, 7:23pm
I head to the loft while Adam cooks dinner and gaze out of the window, though there’s little to see. I’ve not caught sight of Erica or Samir – not even Zac – today, and there’s nothing of interest popping up in my Google searches. The Haddads have been at home all day, so I haven’t had the opportunity to try to find out what’s in the shed, but they’ve got to go out sooner or later, surely. Do either of them even work? One or both of them always seems to be around.
All news reports and articles are still saying Dee and Ruby were last seen by the water late the previous afternoon. I don’t understand why the police haven’t told the media the truth.
The newest articles all seem to be about Dee’s ‘sordid’ history, which doesn’t appear to have any correlation with her disappearance, or any relevance at all, apart from giving people an excuse to bad-mouth her.
Between Dee’s history as a drug user (apparently), previous mental health issues (where’s the proof of this?) and her absent husband (it seems that’s come out now), people are ready to believe it was a murder-suicide. Erica is quoted as having said Dee hadn’t spoken to her about any suicidal thoughts, but she admits that she, and everyone, knew Dee wasn’t coping with the baby.
What a bitch, I think. I’m not without empathy for her – what she’s been through is unfathomable – but talking to plants as if they’re your dead children is just odd, and on top of that, having experienced loss like that gives her a motive. She clearly thinks Dee is an unfit mother. And she’s definitely behaving like someone with something to hide.
I rummage in my handbag and find the card that Sergeant Jamison passed me as I was leaving the station and slip it into my pocket. If I do see anything suspicious, I know who to call.
As if on cue, movement draws my eyes to the window and there it is again, the now familiar light of a torch crossing the Haddads’s yard. I press the binoculars to my eye sockets and peer out. It’s already adjusted to just the right distance to see someone enter or leave the shed. Sure enough, it’s Erica again. She’s holding something – a satchel? – which she lifts from her shoulder as she enters the shed, glancing over her shoulder before shutting the door behind her.
A scary thought enters my mind. What if she really does have Ruby in there?
‘Boo!’
I shriek as I’m grabbed from behind and warm arms enfold me.
‘You scared the shit out of me!’ I exclaim, turning just enough to whack Adam on the shoulder. ‘You must have crept up the stairs like a ninja.’
‘Still playing spy, are we?’ he teases, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and kissing me on the cheek. Then he laughs. ‘Oh, I see.’
‘See what?’
He turns me so I’m facing left just in time to see Zac crossing the landing towards the bedroom – bare-chested, as usual.
I giggle, feeling my cheeks heat up. ‘I wasn’t … oh gosh. No, look over there.’ I steer Adam back to the right. ‘The light is on in the shed again and Erica just went in there. And she was carrying this bulky satchel.’
‘Hmm,’ Adam kisses the side of my neck. ‘She’s probably just getting supplies for when she kidnaps you and locks you in there to punish you for trespassing.’
I laugh, but a shiver comes with it. ‘Stop it. You don’t think … you don’t think they really could have kidnapped Dee and the baby or anything do you?’
Adam sighs. ‘Honestly, darling? No, I don’t think that.’
‘But it’s not impossible, is it?’
‘Nothing is impossible, but you said yourself you could hear the baby crying from across the water. The shed’s even closer to us than Dee’s house. Surely we’d have heard something by now if they were keeping a six-month-old in there.’
‘You’re right,’ I say, knowing I’m not going to get any further with getting Adam onside. ‘I’m being ridiculous. Let’s eat, I’m famished.’
Adam might be able to joke about this, but he didn’t see the fear in Dee’s eyes that night. Despite his mother’s absence and what happened with Beth and Brett, he’s had a fairly sheltered existence. He hasn’t had to inspect and analyse the darker side of human nature, as I have in my line of work.
And, an unwanted voice whispers, he can be just the slightest bit condescending, can’t he? Sometimes I think he doesn’t take me seriously enough. But I’m not as dumb as my hair colour and cup size make people think. Adam may be more inherently practical, but I’ve always been intuitive, and it’s rarely led me astray.
The one time I didn’t trust my instincts, I sorely paid for it.
Chapter 28
Erica
June, 2017
Monday, 3pm
Light sparkles on the creek’s surface like diamonds in the sunlight. I sip my wine, a blood-red shiraz from our trip to the Hunter Valley, the getaway that was supposed to get me ‘re-energised’, allow Samir and me to ‘spend some quality time together’. I’m not sure what we took from it, other than a car boot full of wine.
The shiraz washes sharply over my tongue as the sun sinks behind the mountain. Forty bucks a bottle and I can’t for the life of me understand why. I don’t really understand wine. Never have. It’s Samir who’s the connoisseur. They all taste the same to me.
The sky changes from blue to purple to pink and I remember how, on winter evenings much like this, Samir and I would bring blankets out onto the balcony and snuggle up together on the outdoor lounger to drink expensive wine and watch the sunset. Once, we made love out here under the night sky, even though I’m sure the Dawsons were staying across the water and could have seen us if they’d happened to look out of their window. We were so caught up in the moment, we didn’t care.
We were so happy here in the early days. Who wouldn’t have been? This place is paradise, as they say. And we were young, still in that entitled phase of life when you can’t imagine anything truly terrible ever happening.
When we met, I was nineteen and Samir was twenty-four. A lifetime’s difference in age, it felt then, giddy as I was – as only silly young girls can be – with the thrill of having caught myself an older man. Now forty and forty-five, it’s like the gap doesn’t exist. Samir was always solidly built and, though he’s spread somewhat, he’s kept his shape. Only when I see the salt and pepper at his temples and the creases in his brow do I think of it, and then I look at the lines on my own face and wonder if there’s any difference between us at all. Sometimes I’m sure I look like the older one.
My parents thought I’d won the jackpot with Samir. They were Catholic, old-fashioned, eager for their daughters to marry young and start havin
g babies. So when a man started paying attention to their somewhat chubby, previously invisible, daughter, they were thrilled to bits. I was pretty surprised myself. Though I wasn’t unattractive, I was the ‘sensible’ one, the quiet one. Not particularly bright or clever or interested in much apart from cooking, but well-behaved, dependable, solid. Whereas Jeannie was pretty and high-spirited. It didn’t matter that she was as thick as two planks of wood and twice as silly, she was the one who attracted all the boys, though she never had any intention of settling down with any of them. Well, not until Gaz, who she didn’t meet until she was thirty-two. Which was ironic because all I’d ever wanted was to find someone to start a family with, and she’d never wanted kids. And now look at us.
To my surprise, and despite my grandparents’ disapproval, my traditional (and let’s face it, borderline-racist) parents didn’t seem to give a hoot that Samir wasn’t white. It helped that he was Catholic – and wealthy, of course, whereas my family were working class through and through. It also didn’t hurt that he was beautiful: dark, soulful eyes, a film-star smile and a thick head of dark curls. But it was his gentle nature that won them over. His calmness and willingness to ‘do his duty’, to work hard, settle down and start a family. That’s like crack to Catholic parents. One taste of him and they were addicted. Even Jeannie said she’d marry him if I didn’t, and she didn’t even believe in marriage back then.
Samir wined and dined me and made me feel like a woman. And he didn’t let me – or my parents – down. The day before my twentieth birthday, when we’d been dating only seven months, he proposed with a two-carat diamond solitaire ring at the restaurant he’d taken me to for the occasion.
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