Release (The Submerged Sun, #3)

by Garden,Vanessa

“Oh, okay.” I breathed again.

  She smiled, almost warmly.

  “Sometimes travel can make us look a little... tired. Shall I book you an appointment in our hair and beauty room for the morning? Trust me, you’ll feel like yourself again.”

  I was about to say no. I mean who says things like that? How rude? But then she gave me an idea. I needed to get back to myself, my original hair colour. I needed to be Miranda Sun again if I was going to face the police and get Marko back. Then I could deny the fake ID. I mean really, they had no true evidence that I was the girl in the photo, other than the fact she looked like me. I’d have to think up a good alibi, so that there was no chance I was in Sydney the same time as Nada, but that was doable.

  Once at the police station I’d say that Marko and I had met while I was travelling with Lauren. That Lauren had gone her own way and Nana and Pop had gone after her to convince her to return home. And that after getting to know Marko he’d asked me to marry him. He was now my fiancé.

  Yes. Perfect.

  I twisted the light crystal ring Marko had originally intended for our fake engagement, back when I’d been kidnapped and dragged from the ocean to help save Marin’s fertility crisis. Perhaps the ring could serve another purpose. It winked up at me from my left hand. It would surely make my story all the more believable.

  I nodded to the lady.

  “Yes. Earliest appointment, please.”

  She grinned and tapped my details into her computer using the tips of her long, candy red nails. “I’ll give you a reminder buzz in the morning, Eve.”

  For a second I was about to say, “Who?” but then shut my mouth when I remembered that I’d handed over my new ID for check-in.

  After the receptionist handed me a pile of brochures along with my key-card, I found the elevator and stepped in, punching in the ninth floor.

  The wall to floor mirrors in the elevator revealed a stranger staring back at me. That home-kit had been way too dark for my colouring. I couldn’t wait to be me again.

  An expanse of lush grey carpet and freshly painted grey walls greeted me when the elevator doors whooshed open. A long corridor, decorated tastefully with black and red framed images, led me to room 109. As I slid the key-card into the slot above the door handle, a deep sense of fatigue weighed down the muscles in my shoulders.

  The hotel room was gorgeous, but I was too tired, too anxious, too worried about Marko, to spend time exploring it. The only thing I did check out was the mini-bar, taking from it an icy can of lemonade and a chocolate bar. It was all my stomach could manage. In a bid to distract my anxious mind I checked out the movie schedule, but my physical fatigue was so great that before the movie started, and before I could finish the lemonade, I fell asleep, my face buried in a soft pillow.

  A shrill sound woke me up sometime later. The red letters of the hotel digital alarm clock told me it was 8am. I brushed away the chocolate wrapper that had stuck to my cheek and yawned. I couldn’t believe I’d slept in. It took me about half a minute to realise that it wasn’t the alarm clock ringing, but the bedside phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Good morning, Eve?”

  “Yes?” I was quicker this time despite being half asleep.

  “This is a reminder of your appointment at the House of Beauty in half an hour.”

  “Oh, yes, thanks.”

  I tossed the phone on the bed and had a quick shower, noticing that the black hair rinse was washing out already. That was a good sign. It should be easy for the hairdresser to get my hair back to its original colour. Hopefully the blonde underneath didn’t pose too much of a problem.

  After scoffing down a Snickers and an orange juice from the mini-bar, I quickly dressed and dried my hair using the hairdryer in the bathroom. In the steamy mirror my skin looked pale against the darker hair, and my eyes seemed a lighter shade of brown.

  I’d toned up and lost around five kilos working out on Marko’s exercise machines whenever he’d gone swimming or was out. I’d also started to eat better (apart from this morning and last night) but the shape of my face had more or less stayed the same, which was okay by me. Marko loved my round cheeks and constantly went on about how cute he thought the dimple on the left side was when I smiled.

  After packing my meagre belongings, careful not to leave any of my aliases behind, I hurried out of my room and down the elevator to ground level. A couple of wrong turns followed by me asking one of the staff for directions, and I finally found the House of Beauty.

  The woman who greeted me upon entry showed me where to keep my backpack but I told her that I’d prefer to keep it with me. It wasn’t going to be leaving my side for a second. I’d take it to the washbasin too. She shrugged, waved her hand and then took a lock of my hair between her fingers and said, “So what can we do for you today?”

  I flicked through my phone and showed her a photo of me with my natural, caramel-brown hair. “Can you bring my hair back to this colour?” I went on to explain the recent changes of hair colour, saying I’d been in an experimental mood and my friend was studying to be a hairdresser.

  The woman listened, a repulsed expression twisting her lips, but then she smiled and promised me she could work her magic.

  And she did.

  Four hours later I looked like my old self. Well, a much more polished version of my old self. She’d blow-dried my light brown hair into soft waves and another woman, the beautician, gave me a facial and then applied light, day make-up that made me appear sophisticated.

  My nails had been buffed and coated in shiny rose nail polish, three coats, and finished with three tiny golden stars on each nail. It was the first time I’d ever had my nails done and I couldn’t stop holding them up to the light and flickering my fingers so that they dazzled while the hairdresser, Sam, rang up my bill.

  Anxious to get to Marko, I quickly thanked the ladies, doing my best to extract cash out of my purse without damaging my newly decorated nails, before rushing out and entering the next-door clothes boutique. Being a hotel store, the prices were ridiculous, but if I was going to see Marko and demand that the police release him, and prove to them that I was okay and alive and well, I wanted to look the part of a happy, contented fiancée, not a scruffy runaway who hadn’t changed her clothes in two days.

  Fifteen minutes later I walked out of the store dressed in a brand new pair of designer jeans, a black shirt knotted over a striped black and white singlet, and a pair of black flats. Oversized sunnies completed the look. I was ready.

  I hopped into my hire car and drove to the Busselton police station, the place where they’d interrogated me when I’d found myself back in Bob’s Bay after my first visit to Marin, the place where Marko was currently being held, or so the television had said.

  At least I knew some of the staff who worked there. Hopefully that would help to stem my nerves while I spun my story. I’d gotten away with lying about my “kidnapping” last year when I said an old man had been responsible for taking me from the beach and keeping me from my family, a far more believable story than being held captive in an underwater city. So all I had to do was lie again.

  My heart worked faster as I stared at the familiar limestone brick face of the station through the car window. Marko was somewhere behind those walls and it took every inch of restraint not to burst out of the car and into the station demanding his release. But of course I wasn’t going to do that. That would be stupid. I had to play it cool, do things properly and think everything through with extra care.

  Before I got out of the car, I swiped my phone and found my ex-friend, Zoe’s, number. My finger hovered over her smiling selfie.

  I missed her.

  We hadn’t made contact for such a long time and I prayed that time had healed the rift between us a little so that she would at least consider talking to me and possibly agree to helping me out just this once.

  It still hurt to remember how she’d abandoned me and how she’d slowly stopped returning my calls
after I’d opened up and told her about my first time in Marin. I couldn’t blame her, though, for thinking me crazy. An underwater city was pretty out there. Even my grandparents had thought me insane until they saw Marin with their own eyes.

  After three rings the phone answered with a tiny hello.

  “Hello, Zoe?”

  There was a long pause before a sigh of relief. “Randy? Is that really you?”

  “Yeah, I got a new phone and number. But I’ve kept all my contacts. Well, at least the important ones.”

  More silence followed. I stared out the window and watched a paddy wagon pull up and drive around the back of the station. I wondered if Marko had to travel in one of those, but quickly shook the thought from my head. I had to concentrate on Zoe. If I was going to get Marko out of this police station, I needed Zoe’s cooperation.

  “It’s good to hear from you, Randy. I’ve missed you,” she offered and I could tell by the softness of her voice, and the trace of hope in her words that she was telling the truth. Tears pooled in my eyes and I wiped them away with my thumbs.

  Even with all the distractions my life offered at the moment, something about Zoe’s voice brought me right back home. Back to a time when my parents were alive, and Lauren was safe—annoying, but safe. It was a nice feeling. I’d missed it, missed her, so much.

  “Me too,” I croaked before we shared a nervous laugh that lasted for about fifteen seconds.

  “I’m sorry, Randy, I’m so sorry for turning my back on you. After they said you went missing again I felt like... like it was my fault for not believing you.”

  I turned off the radio. It was playing something far too upbeat.

  “Don’t worry. I’m okay now. The past is in the past.”

  “I’m glad,” she said with a gushy sigh, before adding, “I’m so glad you called. What’s up?”

  I sighed, wishing we had more time, wishing we could catch up on all we’d missed out on this past year. But there was no time for any of that.

  “Well, I kind of need your help.”

  “What sort of help?”

  I winced and stared at the police station, picturing Marko behind the walls, waiting for me, before I decided to just blurt it all out. Everything.

  Ten minutes later, without missing a beat, Zoe responded.

  “I’ll do it. I’m your alibi. For the past two nights you and I had a girly weekend. We did each other’s hair and painted our nails. Gosh, Randy, it’s the least I can do for you. And hey, this is just like in the movies. I can’t believe I’m officially an alibi.”

  I smiled, so happy and relieved to have my friend back.

  “I know.” My throat thickened up again. “Hey, I’ve got to go now, but remember, if they call you, stick to the story I gave you. I’m going to tell them I had such a good time with my best friend Zoe.”

  “Got it. Love you, Randy.”

  Tears pooled in my eyes and I blinked, sending them running down my cheeks. I wasn’t sure when I’d see her again. Part of me wished that the girly weekend had been true.

  “Love you too, Zoe,” I said, smiling down at the phone even after I’d ended the call.

  After checking my make-up in the rear-view mirror and blotting my wet, red cheeks with a tissue, I slipped my handbag over my shoulder and stepped out of the car.

  With a frown on my face I entered the building, demanding to speak to my fiancé. Nerves shook me from head to toe. I just had to hope that Marko had gone with a similar story that I was about to spin.

  “Miranda,” said Dot, the woman who had looked after me the last time I’d been here. “You look so well. Where have you been?” She glanced over her shoulder, in the direction of the office cubicles behind her, before folding her arms across her chest and leaning back against the front counter, her eyes narrow with suspicion.

  “Before your grandparents went away, they told us that you’d gone travelling with your sister.”

  “I did.”

  Dot smiled and shook her head, as though she couldn’t believe I was standing right in front of her.

  “So while you were off having fun, Reg and I have been worried sick. I was concerned for your whole family after you had all been away for so long, without contact or touching your bank accounts... but I can see that travel has somehow suited you. You look strangely well-to-do for somebody who hasn’t had access to her own bank account since the beginning of the year.”

  “Thanks... for the concern.” I smiled and tried to act calm, hoping that my face didn’t show the anxiety I felt. “But I’m here to see my fiancé. And I want to know why he’s being held.”

  11

  Robbie

  Seagulls shrieked and cawed above us from an overcast sky.

  Lily moved beside me and started to cough.

  “You okay?” I rubbed her back as she tried to cough out the sand and water and who knows what else from her throat. She’d been out of it when we were spat out of the chute and despite my efforts to keep her head above water, there were moments, in my great fatigue during the swim to shore, where she must have swallowed some.

  When we’d finally reached the shore last night we were both so tired that we collapsed on the beach, on our bellies, breathing in the sand. Quite a number of people had seen us but had most likely presumed us drunken misfits. We were offered no assistance, most likely as a result of those presumptions.

  “Sit up, you’ll feel better.”

  She eased herself into sitting. By the sounds she was making, she must have been taking in the endless grey sea, the silvery skies above us, the boats of either side of us and the promenade behind us. I’d managed to catch a glimpse of it all for a few seconds before everything had blurred to various shades of grey.

  “So this is land? This is Bob’s Bay? I thought the sky was blue?” she said, her voice rising with excitement.

  I shook my head and sighed gloomily despite the cuteness of Lily’s excitement.

  “No, Lil, this is England. And the sky is blue beneath all that cloud.”

  She drew her head back. “What do you mean by ‘This is England’?”

  “I mean we have arrived at the shores of Scarborough, England.”

  Lily was quiet for quite some time before she released a tiny groan.

  “We’re not in Australia?” She groaned again. “I’m so sorry, Rob. Oh God, I must have pressed the wrong buttons in a rush. That stupid guard. I want to kill him.”

  I shrugged, slid my hand up to her face and brushed some sand from her cheek.

  “It’s okay. We’ll worry in a little bit. For now, just take the time to enjoy your first experience on land. What do you think?”

  “How do you know we’re not in Bob’s Bay?” she said quickly, ignoring my advice.

  “A man who walked by told me when I asked.”

  “Oh my God, Rob. We’re in your home country!” She stood up, but grew wobbly on her feet and fell to the sand with a thud. “Ouch. You know what this means?”

  “Take it easy, Lil. Please. Just sit for a while longer. I gave you a lower dose of the travel drug, but you’ll still feel a little off for the next twenty-four hours.”

  “How far is Cornwall from here? Where did you say you grew up... was it Penzance?”

  The muscles in my neck tightened just to hear the name of my home, the place where I was born. Deep down, I’d always avoided the idea of returning to England because I’d always feared the joy of finding my family. Perhaps not so much the joy but the sorrow I’d feel to leave them again after only just reuniting. I wasn’t sure I could handle that or even if I wanted to do it to them.

  “Penzance is on the other side of the country, too far for us to worry about. We need to get to Bob’s Bay as soon as possible. And we need to get to the nearest bank.”

  “What would we do with a land bank? Neither of us have accounts on land, only Marko... and maybe Sylvia.”

  “Marko has accounts at every light crystal channel location, one of the few sensible id
eas Frano Tollin put into practice when he first came to live in Marin. There should be a safe box that has keys to an apartment, a car, and hopefully a contact for fake ID’s. We’re going to need it if we’re to book a flight from London to Perth, Australia.”

  A bird shrieked from somewhere behind me and Lily jumped with surprise then laughed softly.

  “But how are you going to get to Marko’s safe box and accounts? Wouldn’t we need Marko himself to sign it out?”

  I groped across the sand and took her hand in mine, giving it a squeeze.

  “No. Marko made me signatory for all of his land accounts when I turned eighteen, so we’ll have no trouble accessing funds. We’ll have to draw money, get to the apartment, which should have a computer in it somewhere, then arrange everything from there. I’m just hoping we don’t have to wait too long before we get a flight.” I unlaced my boots and one by one tipped them upside down to get rid of the gritty sand. “I just can’t believe we’re here and not knocking on Miranda’s shack door.”

  Lily remained silent, which I took as self-blame. But it wasn’t her fault we were here. It was Sylvia and Damir’s. I quickly gathered her into my arms.

  “But not to worry, it’s not an issue. We’ll just have to get to the nearest bank as soon as possible. I already got directions from that man who passed us earlier. You think if you lean against me you can walk?”

  ‘I think so.’

  Lily stood up, bending forward to brush the sand off her legging clad legs. I knew she was wearing full black guard gear, complete with daggers strapped to her boots, just like me. It wouldn’t do for us to go walking around in public with daggers on show, so after we removed them and slipped them into the pack I’d brought, I took out T-shirts to cover some of the gear we were wearing and we were good to go.

  “Why am I wearing a pineapple?” Lily asked. I could hear the smile in her voice. She must have seen my T-shirt, because she started laughing hysterically and had to lean against my arm for support. “And who’s Scooby Doo?”

  “What?” I stared down at my blurry shirt and shrugged. “I have no idea.”