The Missing Pieces of Us

by Fleur McDonald

  ‘Brave of you,’ Tamara muttered. She stomped back inside. ‘Right, we’re not even wasting any breath on those girls,’ she said. ‘I’m going to get you to start counting the float for me.’

  Skye’s red eyes widened. ‘What?’

  ‘I think you’re trustworthy enough to do that, aren’t you?’

  Tamara was relying on a technique that Doctor Kerr had told her about once: if you give a child responsibility when they least expect it, they’re more likely to respond positively towards you because they feel as if you believe in them. Right now, Skye needed to feel that someone believed in her.

  ‘Have any of the results come back for your mum?’

  ‘Yeah, there was a call just before I left,’ Skye said as she opened the till and took out the fifty-dollar notes.

  ‘And . . . ?’

  ‘The scans are saying it isn’t anywhere else. So if they can biopsy the nodes, and if the scans that Mum has next week show nothing, she won’t even need treatment. Just regular check-ups.’

  ‘That’s so positive! Great news.’

  ‘I’m still worried,’ Skye admitted. ‘Melanoma can appear anywhere, even when you’ve had all the tests. It just comes back.’

  ‘Hmm, I don’t know a lot about it, but I think that can happen with most cancers. People can be in remission for a while, then it comes back or it doesn’t. That’s not something to worry yourself over. Just celebrate the good results for now.’

  Skye nodded as she kept counting the money. Then she flashed Tamara a pleased-with-herself grin. ‘Guess what I’ve done?’ she said, a glimmer of her old self appearing.

  ‘Dare I ask?’

  ‘I’m looking for Mum’s birth mother, just like you suggested.’

  ‘Are you?’ Tamara was surprised, considering what Skye had said about it before. ‘What made you want to do that?’

  ‘It came up in a talk we had today. Mum wants to find her, but I don’t reckon she really knows where to start or has the energy to look much online, especially with her sore arm, so I thought I’d have a go. I mightn’t get anywhere, but you never know.

  ‘Actually I did try looking about a year ago. Mum was really pissing me off and I thought I might like to live with another family.’ Skye shrugged. ‘Stupid of me really. And I never got any interest at all. I think trying to find someone’s birth family is a lot harder than anyone realises. Especially if they don’t want to be found, or worry that it will upset the people in their lives. I guess there must be women who’ve had babies and their husbands don’t even know about it. That could put their whole relationship in jeopardy, couldn’t it?’

  Tam nodded. ‘Sure could. The fallout is certainly something you need to consider carefully. And searching the whole of Australia for one person is like looking for a needle in a haystack.’

  ‘Totally. There’s so many people looking for family. It’s just as likely that the person I’m looking for has posted their ad, but I haven’t seen it coz I haven’t gone back far enough in the timeline. Anyway, like I said, I’ll have a go and see what happens.’

  Tamara smiled. Finally, Skye had found a positive way to get her mum’s attention! ‘That’s a really nice thing for you to do. Now, while I’m thinking about it, a girl dropped this letter off for you yesterday. Jasmine, she said her name was.’

  Skye grinned and reached out for it. How nice to see that she can still trust one of her friends, Tamara thought. Of course, Tamara didn’t say that she’d already opened and read the letter: no way would she have passed it on if it had been cruel. She was so glad and relieved that there were still nice kids around Skye.

  Checking Facebook later that night, Skye was disappointed, but not surprised, that no one had responded to her post. She knew it could take months, even years, to get a useful lead. Still, she’d hoped there would be a couple. She hadn’t been sure what she would do if she got three or four people responding—some of them might be genuine, but she expected there would be fakers too. Actually, maybe she shouldn’t have put in as many details as she had. But it was too late now. At least she hadn’t put in her mother’s birthdate.

  She set down her iPad and opened the letter from Jasmine. She’d already read it five times because it made her feel so good.

  Hey Skye,

  I miss you at school. Just wanted you to know that. I PMed you on Facebook but then I realised you’re not checking it. I tried calling your house too.

  The other thing I wanted to tell you is there’s a lot of us who think Billy’s a loser fuckboy. It’s not you we’re all talking about—it’s him. I think he’s going to find it a bit hard when he comes back here after his suspension.

  Would love to chat if you want to, but I understand if you don’t.

  Love Jas xx

  Skye swallowed and wiped her runny nose. Her eyes were a bit teary too.

  Her iPad dinged with a Facebook notification. Someone had commented on her post! Why were her hands shaking? Tapping the notification, she read: ‘Good luck in finding your biological grandmother. I’ve been searching for ten years for mine. I’ve come to the conclusion sometimes people don’t want to be found.’

  Skye let her breath out. Well, that was positive. Not.

  She scrolled through again, looking at the new posts, flicking over adverts and photos for hours. Then, suddenly, a photo flew by with a flash of orange-red. Red hair? When she scrolled back up, she felt like she was moving underwater.

  There it was. A photo that had been posted by ‘Todd Atkinson’.

  Of a woman who looked like an older version of herself. Well, with a bigger nose. It couldn’t be that easy, could it? She enlarged the photo and stared. Nah, it couldn’t be anything to do with her mum. It was too easy. Tam reckoned nothing in life came easy. And this picture, of a woman so like herself? Way too easy.

  She flicked back to Atkinson’s profile.

  Todd didn’t have his own photo up on Facebook, so he’d probably created his account just so he could post this one thing. He’d written that it was a photo of his late wife and that she’d given two babies up for adoption.

  Nothing else. Nothing! It was so frustrating. Old people were totally useless with Facebook—Skye’s gran called it ‘the face book’. He hadn’t included any contact details or even said where he lived. Skye could respond publicly or PM him, but the photo had been posted nine months ago. It had only shown up in her Facebook feed now because the admin of the page had given it a bump. What if he never replied?

  Or worse, what if he was an arsehole, and he replied but her mum hated him? What if he was a child molester or a serial killer or something? Oh my God. What if he’d killed his wife and he was coming after her children next? Or he might want their money. And could Skye tell her mum that her birth mother was probably dead? Her hands were shaking again. Why didn’t you think about this more, you idiot?

  Her mum had been right—this was risky.

  Skye went to Google and typed: ‘Todd Atkinson, Western Australia’.

  Chapter 26

  Skye burst into the kitchen. ‘Mum! You know how you were talking about some type of punishment for me sneaking out of the house?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Lauren was trying to chop veggies for dinner with only one arm fully useful and the other not even half helpful. What was Skye talking about? Had she just brought up her own punishment? Wonders will never cease.

  Skye was bouncing on the balls of her feet. ‘I found this place called Walk This Way—it’s sort of like a youth group thing. They have camps and stuff. Um . . . Jas told me about it. She wrote me a really nice letter that she gave to Tam. Anyway, her friend from church went to Walk This Way. She said it was cool.’

  That was strange. Lauren knew Jasmine’s parents quite well, and she didn’t think they attended church.

  A carrot slipped from under her knife and smacked onto the tiles. ‘Damn it,’ she muttered, stooping to pick it up. ‘Skye, can you give me some help here, please?’

  For once, Skye didn�
�t roll her eyes or complain that Lauren would criticise her chopping technique. She just bounced over, picked up the knife and went to work on a potato, while Lauren washed the carrot and brought out another chopping board.

  ‘So, will you let me go to Walk This Way?’ Skye asked brightly. ‘It sounds so good. They help change the way you think. Make positive decisions instead of negative ones.’ She finished with the potato, then went to Lauren and took over chopping the carrot. ‘You’ll cut yourself if you’re not careful.’

  Lauren grinned. ‘Yes, Mum,’ she said.

  This is a miracle, she thought. Holly would be so proud of me. Who knew that one talk would change Skye’s outlook so much?

  But why was Skye suddenly so interested in a youth group? Lauren had just been thinking that Skye would only attend something like that if she was dragged there. What was it that Skye had just said about Jasmine’s friend liking this group?

  ‘Does Walk This Way have a website?’ Lauren asked.

  ‘Yeah, it’s up on the computer. I left it there so you could have a look at it. You’ll love it. And, Mum?’ Skye said, as Lauren started to leave the room. ‘Please don’t take this the wrong way, but can Tam take me? Please?’

  The hurt was sudden and sharp, but then Lauren tried to think about it from Skye’s point of view. One, she’d made the effort to find something she thought would help her—a very mature decision. And, two, there were probably some issues that Skye still didn’t feel comfortable talking about in front of Lauren.

  After all, Lauren thought, who wants to talk to their parents about sex?

  ‘Let me read that website first and talk to Dad,’ she said, ‘but I’m sure that will be fine.’

  As if on cue, the front door slammed and Dean walked in. He stopped to kiss Lauren and then went to hug Skye. ‘Good?’ he asked her.

  ‘Really good,’ she answered, staring up at him with a smile.

  Dean pulled back, his hands on her shoulders. ‘You look like the cat who’s got the cream, Skye. What’s going on?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Skye said, her smile widening. ‘I just feel a lot better. Jasmine sent me a nice letter, and I sort of reckon things are getting back on track.’

  ‘The track was a bit boggy there for a bit,’ admitted Dean. ‘It’s great to hear that.’

  ‘Speaking of that,’ Lauren interjected. ‘Dean, can you come into the study and have a look at this website Skye brought up for us? She’s had an intriguing idea.’

  ‘Ah, a mystery in the making,’ he said, wiggling his eyebrows. ‘Where’s Stu?’

  ‘Not home yet,’ said Skye.

  Lauren pulled at his arm and he followed her into the study.

  ‘This is a little weird, but it doesn’t seem bad,’ Lauren said in a quiet tone, so Skye didn’t hear. ‘When Holly dropped by today, she suggested that Skye might benefit from a youth group. Of course, I thought it would only happen if hell froze over . . . but then Skye came into the kitchen, all bubbly, and told me that she wants to try a place called Walk This Way. Something about Jasmine saying it was cool.’

  Together they read through the information. Pastor Connor was in charge of the group and there were two other counsellors: Todd Atkinson and Sasha Collins.

  ‘This sounds perfect for Skye,’ said Dean. ‘What do you reckon?’

  ‘I agree.’ Lauren shook her head in amazement. ‘I’m just a bit concerned, honey, that our daughter’s been replaced with an alien.’

  ‘Welcome to Walk This Way,’ said a man with tattoos on his knuckles as he ushered Skye and Tam in through the front door of the church. ‘I’m Pastor Connor. We’re pleased to have you here. It’s great that you’ve taken the first step to come and see us.’

  This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Skye wanted to see Todd Atkinson, not this pastor guy. She frowned and looked around the church. From the stained-glass windows overhead, small streams of sunlight hit the pews and floor. It was pretty cold, and Skye reckoned it would be the perfect spot to visit on the hottest days; the thick stone walls would keep the fierce heat from getting in.

  ‘We’ll do our best to help you in whatever way we can, Skye,’ said Pastor Connor, ‘but it needs to be a joint venture. Are you willing to do that? And your parents?’

  ‘Uh, yeah. Mum and Dad have signed all the papers. Tam’s my friend, but she’s a support network-type person too.’

  ‘Wonderful, you can never have enough support people. Come through and let’s talk a little a bit about you, Skye.’ He led the way to his office and they all sat down on comfy leather chairs. This isn’t so bad, Skye thought, just as the pastor asked, ‘How do you think you got off the rails? Why have you made some of the decisions you have?’ He folded his hands on his desk and stared at her expectantly.

  Skye gulped. This wasn’t going according to plan. Being a spy is hard!

  Finally, Tam spoke up. ‘Pastor Connor, I don’t think Skye is that off track. She was caught shoplifting a little while ago, but we’ve established that it was more about getting some attention than starting a career as a criminal. She’s had some pretty hard knocks lately. Her mum’s being treated for melanoma. She just needs help figuring out a few things.’

  ‘Is that right, Skye?’

  Skye nodded quickly. ‘I suppose.’

  ‘You tell me, then. What would you like to get out of Walk This Way?’

  ‘I dunno. Can you change my life?’

  Pastor Connor smiled and looked a lot nicer. ‘We can sure have a good go at it. So, what I would usually do is assign you a counsellor—’

  ‘Can I work with Todd, please?’ The question just burst out of her.

  The pastor stopped talking. He looked totally confused. Oops.

  Tam glanced over at Skye, surprised. ‘How do you know who you want to work with?’ she asked slowly.

  ‘A friend,’ Skye rushed on. ‘Well, not really a friend, but someone’s friend I know at school . . . anyway, they worked with him and said he was, um, like, really cool.’ Her hands were shaking a bit, so she slid them under her thighs. Then she worried that they might leave sweat stains. Just keep smiling, she told herself.

  Pastor Connor smiled again and spread his hands out. ‘Todd it is, then.’

  The next day, Tam pulled up in front of the church, gave Skye a hug and then had to rush off to work. Skye stood outside, hanging back, watching all the kids walk in. They were all about her age or a bit older: some with tatts, some with heaps of piercings, and others dressed just as neatly as her. Such a weird mix.

  She walked into the church to find it empty. Where had all the kids gone? Aside from Skye, the only person there was Todd Atkinson, standing up near the altar. She recognised him from his photo on the Walk This Way website.

  Todd gave her a welcoming smile. ‘Hello, young lady.’ He glanced down at his clipboard, squinting. ‘Sorry, love, my eyesight’s not what it used to be. Let’s see . . . looks like you’re lucky last. Skye Ramsey, is it?’

  ‘Yep, that’s me.’ She was trying hard not to seem like a weird stalker. You are a weird stalker, she reminded herself.

  Todd seemed like a really normal old guy. Skye had no idea how old he was—everyone looked a bit the same after fifty. Todd had grey hair and wrinkles, and he wore a boring flannel shirt tucked into jeans that looked like they’d time-travelled from last century. And jeans with white runners! The worst fashion crime imaginable.

  ‘Through here,’ Todd said, ushering Skye into a narrow hall that led out to a courtyard. Trees grew through broken pavers, filtering the sunlight. Wooden tables and chairs, painted in mismatched bright colours, were scattered around. High walls kept out prying eyes, and one wall was covered in graffiti. It was almost cool.

  A lone wisteria wound its way up an iron frame; it was covered in pretty purple-blue flowers. Skye noticed that Todd put his hand on the wisteria as he passed by. He looked like he was remembering something sad. ‘I love wisterias,’ he explained, noticing her curious glance. ‘They were my late wif
e’s favourite flower.’

  Really? Skye thought. What else did she like?

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that your wife passed away,’ she said politely. Maybe now would be a good time for her to mention the Facebook post. Except, what if he wasn’t the right Todd Atkinson? It would be so embarrassing. She’d never live it down, and her mum would kill her. She had to find out more about him and his dead wife.

  From somewhere deep in the brown-brick building next to the church courtyard, loud hip-hop music started thumping. Skye recognised the song—she had it on her iPhone. She’d downloaded it because Billy liked it. Hip-hop wasn’t usually her thing, but she’d wanted to seem cool.

  Billy. Arsehole. Fuckboy. Coward.

  ‘Come and meet the crew,’ said Todd. ‘We’ve got quite a few kids here.’ He led her through a door into the building, towards the music. ‘Fifteen in the program at the moment, but there’s room for twenty. We’re planning a camping trip to the wheatbelt. Would you be interested?’

  ‘Camping?’ She’d never been camping.

  ‘Yep, it’s a lot of fun,’ he said with a grin. ‘We take tents and put them up in the paddocks, cook over barbecues and go bush-walking.’

  Skye didn’t say anything. She couldn’t even imagine what that would be like. She’d seen the big paddocks on the way to Margaret River before and there always seemed to be so much nothingness out in the country. Emptiness. Only cows and grass and horses. And dirt and bugs. And limited phone reception.

  ‘Well, you can think about it,’ Todd said. ‘We don’t go until next week.’ He pushed open a door and hip-hop pulsed out. When he waved at a couple of kids, they grabbed a remote to turn the music down. ‘Not all of the crew are here right now. Some have sport or community work. Everyone comes and goes. In and out. This is Skye,’ he said, without any other introduction. ‘This is Grant, Dave, Paige, Cassie—’ he listed a few more, but Skye tuned out, thinking, Who cares? ‘You’ve already met Pastor Connor—he’s over there, pretending he knows how to shoot pool. And this is our one and only Sasha. She makes the best chocolate cake in the world.’