It took me forever. I didn’t bother to check my watch—that wouldn’t get me home any sooner—but it would have been at least an hour and a half. The sun had come back out, bright after the rain shower, and the air was steamy. By the time I slipped through the side gate into the shady courtyard of the house I was tired, hot and sweaty.
Upstairs in the peppermint green bathroom I peeled off my clothes, tossed them on the floor and took a cold shower. Half-heartedly drying myself afterwards, I could only look at my reflection in the mirror for a few seconds before I turned away. My face and my arms pink with sunburn, my wet hair limp. I looked like a hopeless mess.
I left the bathroom and wandered into the bedroom. I picked up my phone to check the time. Just past five. At home, the TV would be going on. Kids’ TV, with squeaky-voiced presenters and cartoons. Mum in the kitchen prepping dinner and simultaneously supervising homework, calling out spelling words and signing reading logs.
Dad absent. Maybe home for dinner if he was feeling especially guilty. Otherwise, coming in at eight or nine when most of the kids were already in bed, taking his plate of dinner from the oven and sitting down alone to eat. Never offering to help Mum with the washing-up or the bedtime routine.
I don’t know, maybe she liked it like that: roles straight out of the 1950s, clearly delineated. Her running the house, him bringing home the bacon. Maybe having roles, those parameters, helped them both somehow. Work hard enough and you don’t have to think, right?
Thinking of thinking…Elias’ face after I’d sworn at him. I pushed it away. I’d stuffed up, but I’d fix it, somehow. Or maybe Elias, being Elias, would just bounce back and it would all be forgotten in the morning. Maybe.
There were still a few hours of daylight left, but I was tired. The long walk home hadn’t helped. I ate some of the bread—why didn’t I think to buy peanut butter or something?—and an apple, then rearranged my puddle of clothes on the floor. I guess it helped that I’d worn myself out with the walk, because eventually I fell asleep.
It was dark when I woke up. I sat up and fumbled for my phone, no idea what the time was. Just past ten. I was half-expecting something from Elias, to check I got home okay or to tell me some breakthrough he’d made. Something.
There was a message, but it wasn’t from Elias. Mum. Damn, I’d forgotten earlier. Checking in?
Sorry. Busy day.
It felt like a lame excuse, but it was true enough. I squashed down the flicker of guilt I felt. Waited for another minute, in case it was just taking a while for any messages from Elias to arrive. Still nothing.
I felt stuck. Felt stuck in our search for Sephora, in my search for Frankie—
What search? my brain scoffed. You think you’re searching for Frankie, but what are you actually doing?
I looked around the room, as if I could avoid the sudden pestering voice. Not the time to deal with it.
When is the time?
‘Shut up,’ I hissed. God, now I was arguing with myself. I was losing the plot. I took a deep breath then blew it out, trying to calm myself.
Of course I was looking for Frankie. I was always looking. I was seven years old when it happened and my parents would barely let me out the front door; it’s not like I could go to the ends of the earth to find her. All I could do was keep my eyes open, be watchful. That wasn’t nothing. To do nothing would be to give up, and I’m not giving up.
Yeah, but you’re not DOING anything either.
‘Enough. Shut up.’ I got to my feet. I had an almost overwhelming urge to clamp my hands over my ears, as if that could shut up the inner voice. Needing to move, I started to pace. From the door to the window. Back again. Thinking about my mind’s piercing criticism.
What was I doing to find Frankie? What things was I doing on a daily basis to try to find my sister?
Nothing.
But that didn’t mean I didn’t want to find her. That didn’t mean I wasn’t committed to the search. It just meant I hadn’t…
I hadn’t started yet.
‘I will find Frankie,’ I told the emptiness around me. My hands were clenched into fists. ‘I’ll get access to the police records, somehow. I’ll find something they missed. I’ll go back to where it all started, and chase down every lead, and I’ll find her.’
But they were hollow promises, even to my own ears. Too aware of my own uselessness, and that I had nowhere to start.
Elias had packed a book into the gift box, a novel I’d never heard of, but better than nothing. I found a corner of the bedroom where the moonlight was coming in at the right angle, and started to read.
That was when his message came in.
How do you feel about a road trip?
29
Road trip. I stared at my phone, eyebrow raised. No anger? No demand for apology?
Before I could work out how to compose my response, the phone beeped again.
You have your squinty thinking face on, don’t you?
What?
Squinty face? I typed back, trying to simultaneously convey my indignation and ask what he meant.
Not waiting for his answer, I padded to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror above the peppermint-green sink. There was just enough moonlight through the frosted window to see my reflection.
I tried to remember what I did when I was thinking. Right eyebrow arched, brow furrowed; chewing lower lip.
Damn. I did look squinty.
Kind of angry, too, although I wasn’t. It must be the furrowed brow.
My phone beeped again.
Now it’s probably an indignant look.
I smiled slightly despite myself, and felt my mood lifting. He wasn’t dwelling on that stupid moment in his studio. He was moving on. Shut up. I paused before sending the message. Did I dare ask him about this road trip? Or, actually, was there even any point? I had nowhere else to be. There was nothing stopping me. I had no timeframe for going home. Why did it matter if he was talking a quick jaunt up the coast or a trek across the Simpson Desert?
I’m in, I typed. I ignored the apprehension fluttering in my gut. Or maybe it was excitement—the thought of doing something completely spontaneous. Maybe it was both.
I sent the message and headed back to the bedroom. By the time I was settled down again in my corner Elias had sent through his reply.
Awesome. I’ll pick you up in the morning bout 10. Sleep tight.
A second message came in quick succession. And watch out for those bedbugs.
I snorted. Ha. Funny.
I tried to go back to reading the book but I couldn’t focus on it anymore. The brief conversation with Elias had made me realise how alone I was in the house, how much I wanted someone to talk to.
‘Road trip,’ I said aloud to the empty room. Quietly, in deference to the stillness of the night. As it was, the sound seemed to echo off the bare floorboards and walls. ‘I guess it’ll be an adventure.’
*
I tossed and turned a lot in the night. At least twice I got up and went to the window to look out at the sleeping world. I didn’t dare stay there for too long. My face would be visible in the moonlight to anyone who happened to look. It didn’t help, anyway. I still felt as though I might as well be alone in outer space.
My phone woke me and I scrabbled for it among the stuff spread over the floor. It was my fourth morning waking up in the house and I still wasn’t used to the dust, the body-aches from the hard floor.
‘What?’ I mumbled.
‘Did I wake you? Jeez, it’s like midday.’
I looked at the time on my phone through bleary eyes. ‘It’s nine-thirty.’
‘Sorry, I’ve been up for hours. I’ve already had like three coffees. Can you come let me in?’
He was waiting down in the little courtyard, bouncing up and down on his heels. It didn’t seem like he’d made any attempt at keeping a low profile, but thankfully there didn’t seem to be anybody watching.
He had a Lonsdale gym bag in one hand
and was swinging it as he bounced. ‘I brought you a bag, figured it would be easier to put some of your stuff in.’ He offered it to me and I took it, too surprised to do otherwise. I wasn’t used to anybody looking out for me. Usually I was the one getting everyone else organised.
‘Did you want to swing past your place to collect some clothes and stuff?’
Dad would be at work and the kids at school, but Mum would probably be home with Josey and Evie. I felt a slight twinge of guilt at the thought of Josey, but it wasn’t enough. ‘No. It’s okay.’ Mum was the last person I wanted to see.
He gave me a sceptical look. ‘You’ve been wearing the same clothes all week. It’s…well, kinda gross.’
‘You really know how to make a girl feel special.’ I turned to head up the stairs. I wasn’t going to admit that he was right. I would’ve killed for a hot shower and clean clothes.
He followed me up. The room I’d been sleeping in was a mess. My bundle of other clothes—my makeshift pillow—had come unravelled at some point during my tossing and turning, and spread everywhere. In among them were half-a-dozen chocolate bar wrappers and other miscellaneous stuff from Elias’ gift basket.
‘Nice look you’re going for here,’ Elias quipped, as I tried to kick things into a pile with my feet.
‘Hey, you try living without furniture,’ I shot back, a little offended. I’m not naturally the tidiest person in the world, but I’m not a complete slob. But without furniture—a bed, a table, a garbage bin—everything was just one big messy pile.
I folded the clothes quickly, packing a few things into my backpack and the rest into Elias’ bag. I added the toiletries, towel and leftover food. Shoved the wrappers into an end pocket. I left the empty box that Elias had used for the gift basket, hoping he wouldn’t be offended I wasn’t taking it with me.
I took the stairs two at a time and checked out the back door. There didn’t seem to be anyone in sight. Still, I paused and turned back to Elias. ‘Remember, we’re not supposed to be here.’
‘I can be stealthy!’ he protested. He made a show of zipping his lips shut, then gestured silently for me to go ahead. I slid the glass door open and stepped out, gingerly navigating the doorway with my two bags. Elias followed, slid the door closed and stepped back so I could lock it.
I hesitated for a moment, wanting to keep the key with me, keep my claim to the place. Then common sense took over and I knelt down to slip it back into its hiding place under the loose brick. I brushed my knees off and nodded to Elias. Let’s go.
Elias had remembered to park a few houses down, and nobody seemed to be paying any special attention to us. We slipped through the front bushes and out onto the street. On the footpath he caught up and walked alongside me, a spring in his step.
‘You really have had three coffees, haven’t you?’ I asked.
‘First one was a double shot, so maybe technically it’s four. I’ve been up since quarter to six.’
We reached the van and I waited by the passenger door. He leaned to look at me across the front of the van. ‘It’s not locked,’ he explained. ‘The lock on the back’s busted, so I figured there’s no point.’
‘You ever thought about getting a new car?’
‘I love this car.’
I sighed, and saw Elias’ manbag was already on the centre bench seat, along with a thermos and a jacket. ‘Might toss my bags in the back.’
‘Sure. I’ve got most of my stuff back there, too.’
I trudged around to the back of the van. Elias hadn’t been kidding—the handle was loose and I didn’t even need to twist it. Soon as I pulled on it, the door swung open, nearly clocking me in the face as I reared back to avoid being hit.
What I saw inside made me take another step back.
Vogue bloody Fontainbleau.
‘What the hell?’
She was sitting with her back along the inside wall of the van, legs stretched out in front of her, daintily crossed at the ankles. The ever-present phone was in her lap, the stupid cat-ear headphones plugged in. With a folded blanket underneath her and a pillow behind her back, she could have been stretched out on a banana lounge in the tropics.
Till she looked at me. ‘Oh,’ she said. Disdainful. ‘You.’
‘What are you doing here? How long have you been sitting in the back?’
‘I was coming by the house. Then I saw Elias’ van. I thought I’d hitch a ride.’
I felt my jaw tighten. Rather than try to come up with some witty comeback—because, pathetically, I wasn’t sure I could—I dumped my bags onto the van floor and stalked around to the driver’s side door. Elias was already in his seat and fiddling with his phone, oblivious to what was going on behind him. He only looked up when I rapped on the window.
He slowly wound down his window. ‘What?’
‘We’ve got a freaking stowaway.’
He half-laughed. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Your number one fan. She’s hiding in the back.’
He laughed that same confused laugh again, as if he didn’t quite believe me, and opened the door. I moved back to let him pass me and followed him to the rear doors.
‘Oh. Hi.’
She had gone back to listening to music, not a care in the world. ‘Hi.’
‘What are you doing back here?’
‘I wanted to hang out with you for a bit.’
‘Don’t you have school today?’
‘Doesn’t she?’ She pointed at me. My hand tingled with the urge to smack her.
Elias glanced across at me, looking faintly amused. Not at all bothered by Vogue’s game playing. ‘You should really be in school.’
‘Well, think of it this way…’ Vogue made a show of taking off her headphones and winding the cable methodically around her phone. ‘I’m not going to school either way. I haven’t been all week. So you can either leave me wandering around the streets, where anything could happen to me… or you can let me come with you.’
‘You don’t even know where we’re going,’ I pointed out, irritated at the thought that Elias might fall for her little argument.
‘Where are you going?’
‘None of your business,’ I snapped.
‘Okay, time out.’ Elias turned to me. ‘She’s right, we shouldn’t leave her here by herself.’
‘Are you serious? She’ll be fine. She has a home to go to.’
He opened his mouth—no doubt to tell me I had a home to go to, too—and I froze him with a look.
I turned to Vogue. ‘How did you even know this is Elias’ van? You’ve only met him that once, at the shops. Did you follow us?’
‘As if I’d follow you,’ she scoffed. ‘I just saw you leave.’
‘Right.’ I turned back to Elias. ‘She can’t come with us,’ I said, in the most final tone I could muster. ‘End of story.’
With common sense on my side and a refusal to compromise, I figured I’d won the battle. But then Vogue pulled out the big guns. Her lower lip quivered, and her big eyes—they were brown, just like a puppy’s—were suddenly shiny with tears.
Checkmate.
30
It was cramped in the front of the van. I pressed myself against the window, trying to avoid Vogue’s bony elbows, which seemed to end up in my ribs every time we took a corner. I was under no illusion that it was by accident.
Elias was talking. It was only when I heard him mention Sephora’s name that I realised I should be paying attention instead of daydreaming Vogue’s untimely demise.
‘Hold on,’ I interrupted him. ‘Start from the beginning.’
‘You weren’t listening to me.’ He sounded reproachful.
‘Sorry.’
He drew a deep breath. ‘Do you want me to start again?’
‘Just the bullet points.’
He nodded. ‘So. I figure we go up towards the canyon, and drive around the neighbourhood, using her paintings as reference points to see if we can work out where she lives. And if we see anybody, we
can ask them if they know her.’
I’d been expecting a slightly more concrete plan. I opened my mouth to ask if that was really all he had, then remembered what I’d said to him yesterday. I closed it again. ‘I guess that could get us somewhere,’ I said slowly.
‘But?’
Mentally, I skimmed over the different pieces of the puzzle, trying to work out what was bothering me. Aurora and Benjamin. The artworks. Yvonne.
‘I want to see Yvonne again before we go,’ I said suddenly. ‘Yvonne?’ Elias looked at me like I was pulling his leg. ‘Why? She doesn’t know anything.’
‘That’s just the thing…I feel like she does. More than she’s letting on, anyway. Maybe more than she even realises.’ It wasn’t that I thought she was lying to us. To be honest, I liked her too much to want to think that. But something didn’t seem quite right. ‘We haven’t talked to her since we learned all about Sephora’s paintings. Maybe she can fill us in a bit on all that.’
Elias looked unconvinced. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. We were nearing the start of the M7 and once we were on it, changing direction would cost us—money as well as time.
‘Are you sure?’ he asked, glancing over at me.
‘No,’ I admitted honestly. ‘But it’s a slight improvement on just driving around up there, hoping for a miracle.’
Vogue was being weirdly silent, I thought—and then I realised she had her earphones in. It was strange having a conversation around her, but I was thankful at least that she wasn’t putting in her two cents.
Elias nodded, and flipped on his indicator. ‘Okay. Just a quick stop, though.’
I’d figured we’d meet her at her work again. I was already mentally preparing myself to hide uneasily in the car park, then Elias called her and she said she was working from home. We were welcome to drop by.
I hadn’t really stopped to picture what Yvonne’s house might look like, but I wouldn’t have come close. It was big—imposing—and modern. Neatly landscaped, BMW in the driveway.
‘Are you sure this is the right address?’
The Finder Page 17