Elias looked dazed. I could see a protest on his lips, but he didn’t say anything. I reached for his arm, tugging on it gently. ‘Let’s go.’
I led him back outside, Vogue bringing up the rear. We made our way to the Mr Whippy van in silence. Elias climbed into the driver’s seat, and then just sat. Vogue and I climbed in beside him. There was silence.
‘I should have told her I forgive her.’ When he spoke finally, his voice was hoarse. ‘I should have made that clear. That she doesn’t have to feel guilty or ashamed about giving me up. I mean, she must be in denial. Maybe it would have helped. Maybe—’ He reached for the doorhandle and I launched myself across the car to stop him, holding the door closed. I vaguely heard Vogue yelp beneath me but I ignored her.
‘Not now,’ I told Elias. ‘Just…not now.’
My brain was still working overtime, frantically sifting the different puzzle pieces, checking and double-checking that they did indeed fit together. So bloody simple. Why hadn’t I seen it sooner?
‘We need to go.’
I glanced at Elias, who was still looking shocked, then around the van. Being able to drive—with or without an actual proper licence—would have been really handy right then. I’d just turned sixteen, but getting my learner’s permit had been the last thing on my mind.
I looked back at Elias. I wasn’t at all happy with the idea of him driving, not in the state he was in.
When I was fairly confident that Elias wasn’t going anywhere, at least for now, I let go of the doorhandle and eased myself off Vogue and back to my seat. She gave me a look, but at the same time it was clear that she was fully expecting me to handle the situation. To fix it somehow. As if I was some freaking genie.
‘I don’t suppose you know how to drive, do you?’ I asked her, my tone oddly conversational.
‘I’m eleven.’
‘Yeah.’ I knew that, of course, but that didn’t seem to stop her doing every other thing that adults did.
She glanced over the dashboard and centre console. ‘My Dad has a manual. It can’t be that hard.’
For a second she sounded like she was actually considering it. That seemed to get Elias’ attention. He shook himself and fumbled for his keys. ‘It’s okay, I can drive. I’m okay.’
He drove slowly, but neither of us complained about that. We got back to our own cabin eventually and he stopped the car and killed the ignition. We sat in silence for another long moment. I glanced across at Elias and could see he was biting his lower lip hard. His fist was clenched.
Vogue glanced over, and saw it as well. She chickened out before I could. ‘I need to pee,’ she muttered, and she climbed over me and out through my door, leaving the two of us in silence.
There was no doubt in my mind. I’d worked it out. I knew why Sephora had reacted the way she had. It had nothing to do with Elias. But how the hell was I supposed to tell him that? He needed to know the whole truth, but I wasn’t sure if he was ready for that.
My heart was racing. I cleared my throat. ‘It’s not Sephora,’ I managed finally. ‘She’s not who you’ve been looking for.’
He turned to me. His eyes shone with tears, and the hurt was written clearly on his face. His eyeliner had smudged a little already, and once I might have laughed at the sight, but I couldn’t find anything remotely funny about it now.
‘Not what? Don’t you get all metaphorical on me. She’s exactly what I was looking for. She just didn’t want me. She’s rejected me, twice.’ He punctuated the last word with his fist pounding the centre of the steering wheel. He fumbled with the doorhandle and then kicked the door. It swung open, and he half-fell out of the car, kicking at the loose rocks on the ground. I followed him more slowly, cautiously climbing out the passenger door and rounding the van to watch him.
I tried to keep my voice steady. ‘I need you to hear what I’m saying. She wasn’t rejecting you. I need you to just let go of it for a second so you can listen to me.’
‘“Let go”? I’m not you, Lindsay. I can’t just “let go” of feelings. I can’t just pretend something never happened.’
I don’t know if he was trying to hurt me, lashing out like that. I’d heard enough crap like that in my life. People wouldn’t always let me shut down the conversation when they wanted to talk about Frankie, and the fact that the subject matter didn’t bring me instantly to tears apparently made me a cold, heartless bitch. But I struggled to believe that Elias saw me that way, he who was so freaking crazy about seeing the best in everyone.
‘Sephora is not your mother,’ I said as calmly as I could. ‘I’m not talking metaphorically, I mean it literally. Forget the birth certificate. Sephora didn’t have a clue who you were because she has never heard of you.’
He stared at me. ‘But…Are you saying we got the wrong Sephora Greenfield?’
‘Not exactly.’ I wasn’t sure how to best explain it.
‘So you’re saying Sephora’s not my real mother?’
I nodded.
He still looked confused. ‘Then who is?’
37
I was sitting at the window, waiting and watching. We’d been back at the cabin for nearly an hour. Nobody had said anything much since we’d gone inside. Elias was sitting, staring into the fire, apparently beyond words.
I watched as the car pulled up beside Elias’ van. None of the doors opened. She just sat inside, a silhouette through the tinted windows.
Elias was in no state to be sent out. I reached for my shoes, pulling them on quietly, and slipped out the back door of the cabin.
I opted to go to the passenger door, figuring that would seem less threatening. I rapped lightly with my knuckles, then reached for the doorhandle. Unlocked. I swung it wide open and bent down. ‘Can I talk to you?’
Yvonne met my gaze steadily. Her eyes were red, as if she’d already been crying, which unnerved me. Confrontation was bad enough, but…No tears, I warned—begged—silently.
‘I didn’t mean to lead you on a wild goose chase,’ she said finally. She looked a bit embarrassed, which was an improvement on the tearfulness.
‘Then you failed pretty spectacularly,’ I said dryly.
A sheepish smile. ‘I should have known you wouldn’t give up. I could see how persistent he was going to be. I was just hoping against hope you wouldn’t figure it out.’
I thought back to our earlier conversations with her. ‘I don’t believe you,’ I said softly.
She tilted her head. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You were the one who told us about Sephora giving you her old ID. You had no reason to say that. You volunteered the information because you must have known that on some level, it linked her to you.’
A slight smile quirked her lips. ‘Not much gets past you, does it?’
‘I try to pay attention.’
‘Yeah, you do all right.’
I glanced over at the cabin. ‘You need to talk to Elias. I’m not going to be the go-between forever. You might as well get it over and done with.’
‘Over and done with? Is he that angry with me?’
‘He’s pretty pissed.’
‘Noted.’ She drew a deep breath, and blew it out, but then still didn’t move. I couldn’t really blame her.
‘You just had your birthday, didn’t you?’ she asked me suddenly.
I frowned, confused by the abrupt change of conversation. ‘What?’
‘It was your birthday, just a few days ago,’ she said: a factual statement this time, rather than a question.
‘Yes,’ I acknowledged warily. ‘Why?’
‘Your dad…There’s two times in the year that we always give him a bit of extra space. I don’t think he realises he does it, but he turns into a full-on stress head. He’s got this thing he does…you can see the muscles clenching in his jaw when he’s just sitting there, working at the computer or whatever. Twice a year, for about a week at a time, like clockwork.’
Her words made me feel sick. Why was she talking about it?
I didn’t want to know. I knew the two dates she was talking about. She’d already mentioned my birthday, and the second one was obviously the date that Frankie disappeared.
Part of me itched to ask her if it had seemed worse the past few days, if my disappearance—on top of my birthday—had sent Dad’s stress levels through the roof, but I didn’t. I didn’t need to feel any more guilty.
‘What about it?’ I managed to ask. ‘Why are you telling me, anyway?’
‘I don’t pretend to know what your parents went through. But when I see Dave like that, twice a year, I feel like there’s some part of me that understands. Most people don’t. They’re respectful about it, but they don’t get it. How can you, if you’ve never…had that? A child in your arms one minute, gone the next.’
I swallowed hard. Opened my mouth to protest—to tell her to stop, really, that it might somehow be therapeutic for her but it felt like she was battering me with a big stick—and she rushed on, clarifying. ‘As I said, I’m not saying I know what your parents went through. What they still go through. I know…I mean, I had a choice, even if it didn’t feel like it at the time. I gave up a newborn I’d only just laid eyes on. It’s not the same thing at all. But I think it’s the same sort of hurt, to some degree. Especially when you’re reminded of what’s gone. Like on birthdays. It’s not just a date on a calendar anymore.’
I was chewing my lip raw again. The tears were stinging in my eyes, and I willed them not to spill out. Willed Yvonne to stop talking, to go do what she needed to do. This was about her and Elias. This had nothing to do with my family.
‘You should go in,’ I finally managed to say. My fists were clenched and I stared at them, buried in my lap. ‘You need to talk to Elias.’
She stared out her window, as if psyching herself up. Then she took a deep breath and reached for the doorhandle. ‘Wish me luck.’
I wasn’t privy to the conversation. They went down to the river to talk, an awkward distance between them as they navigated the rocky slope. I sat on the veranda with my knees hugged to my chest. I wasn’t interested in the nitty gritty of their conversation, but I had no idea how Elias was going to cope with it. I wanted to show him I was there, in some way.
He came back up to the cabin alone. His eyes were red and watery, but he seemed calm enough. He gave me a little smile. I was waiting for him to launch into a debrief, but he didn’t. Still processing everything, apparently.
He looked around. ‘Where’s Vogue?’
‘Napping inside. All the drama’s tired her out.’
He laughed at that. ‘Right.’ He didn’t seem inclined to add anything else.
‘We should have lunch,’ I told him. ‘Some sandwiches.’ ‘Okay.’
‘What do you want to do after that?’
‘I want to go home.’
I couldn’t blame him. For the last few weeks this adventure had consumed both of us. I was tired enough, and I didn’t have his degree of emotional investment.
I followed him inside, watching how he moved. The spring was missing from his step. He was clearly disappointed, and I could see why. Sephora was everything he wanted in a parent: a talented artist, a kindred spirit. Yvonne was nice enough, but that wasn’t the same. I could understand why he wouldn’t feel the same sort of connection.
We woke Vogue up for lunch, then sorted out the cabin. It didn’t take long. I was expecting the packing up to take forever but we really didn’t have that much with us. I did a final walk-through of the cabin, back to its original state, thinking how surreal it was that it was less than twenty-four hours since we’d arrived. We’d fitted a lot in.
I went back out to the van, expecting to find Elias there. It was just Vogue, lolling in the front seat with her cat headphones on. I gestured Where is he? and she shrugged, then went back to ignoring me.
I found him halfway up the hill, standing among the towering gum trees with their ghostly trunks. He was looking down at the view, glimpses of the river as it wound its way along, surface shimmering in the early afternoon sun.
He watched me approach. ‘I’m having an identity crisis,’ he warned me soberly.
I sighed. How had we come to the point where I was somehow supposed to know what to do with all this emotional crap? Elias was the feel-good guy, the one who would make everything all okay.
‘Don’t look at me,’ I told him with a shrug. ‘I’ve got nothing.’
That made him laugh a little, though I could see his eyes were wet with unshed tears. ‘Thanks, Linds,’ he said. ‘Good to know I can count on you in a crunch.’
I shrugged again. ‘I’m here, though, right?’
He didn’t answer that. I followed his gaze down the hill. It was a pretty spot, though the slope was treacherous, rocky with fallen leaves and branches. I’d almost slipped a few times coming up to join him. In the distance, the river looked wide enough that I figured it could probably withstand the dry summers, when others dried up completely.
I thought back a bit. ‘You said to me before that right from when you were a kid, you knew who you were. You like the stuff you like, and you don’t care what people think, what they might label you. You told me that, and it wasn’t bullshit. And none of that has changed.’
‘But everything I thought about Yvonne, and Sephora… even Benji and Aurora. They’re not my grandparents.’
‘Does that change the fact that you’re a weirdo with no eyebrows?’
A snort, somewhere between tears and laughter. ‘No.’
‘Does it change the fact that you’re the most annoyingly happy person I’ve ever met?’
He thought about it. ‘Nah. Not really.’
‘So we’ve established that your sense of self is doing just fine. There’s other shit going on, but you’re still you.’
He laughed, and before I knew it, he was hugging me. My first instinct was to pull away, to claw back my personal space, but I screwed my face up and endured it instead. Suckered again by Elias’ total lack of self-consciousness. Boy was like a damn puppy.
He finally released me, and I saw that he’d been crying again, but he smiled. ‘You’re pretty special, you know that?’
Never one to accept a compliment without a fight, I frowned and made air quotes. ‘Special. Like, the kid at school who licks the glue sticks?’
‘Pretty spesh.’
I gave him a shove. ‘Let’s get out of here before I toss you over the edge.’
Vogue raised an eyebrow when we finally returned to the van. ‘About time. Do you know where the phone charger cable is?’
‘Missed you too,’ Elias quipped. He dug around in the glovebox and tossed it to her. ‘Ready to go?’
‘I’ve been sitting in this car for an hour. What do you think?’
Just in case we’d started to forget what an entitled brat she was. I rolled my eyes. ‘Thoughts on leaving her behind?’ I asked Elias over her head.
Vogue scowled; Elias nodded. ‘Tempting.’
It was a quiet drive back along the rutted, bumpy roads. I was just a bit over it all, really. I meant what I’d said to Elias about how the discovery shouldn’t shake his sense of self, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t feel miserable about how the whole thing had turned out. Our adventure had started well and the ending had pretty much sucked. I’m sure there’s a life lesson in there.
‘I’m dropping you home,’ he said quietly as we reached the end of the M7.
I looked across at him, not sure who he was talking to. ‘Me or Vogue?’ I asked finally.
‘Both of you.’
I felt like I should protest, but I didn’t really want to. The prospect of going back to the empty house and sleeping on a dusty wooden floor was a bit sad. Plus I was ready to put some space between me and Elias. It had been a long couple of days.
Maybe Vogue was feeling the same way, because she gave him directions to her house without arguing. He wanted to walk her to the door—what he’d say to her parents, I had no idea—but she shot that idea down
fast.
‘I’ll handle them,’ she said with that old airy confidence. I wondered if she really was like that or if it was just a front. Either way, I felt a niggle of jealousy, stupid as it was. I was tired of feeling like I had to fake being grown up. How could an eleven-year-old be so much better at it than me?
Strange to watch her stroll off with barely a goodbye. Even stranger was the feeling when Elias reached the top of my driveway and it was my turn to do the same.
Everything had been rolling around the back of the van and got all jumbled. Elias helped me dig my things out and then we stood, not sure what to say.
It was late afternoon, and there was a breeze, but it still felt a few degrees warmer than where we’d been. Colder in the mountains, my mind chipped in. The sky didn’t seem as blue here or the air as clear. I knew the stars would be nonexistent in comparison.
‘Is your mum going to be mad?’
‘Probably.’
‘Soz.’
I rolled my eyes. He was going to start air-kissing me next. I grabbed my backpack from his hands and swung it onto my shoulder, then took the Lonsdale bag. ‘Okay if I give this back to you later?’
‘You can keep it.’
He really, honestly meant it. He was the sort who would literally give someone the shirt off his own back. I’d never met anybody like him.
‘You suck,’ I told him, hating the sentimental way he made me feel.
He just grinned at me, the first real smile since before we’d found out the truth about Yvonne. Maybe that was a start. I couldn’t deal with him moping forever.
Except, I realised suddenly, there wasn’t going to be a forever. I’d done what Elias had hired me to do. He had no reason to need me anymore. We were done.
A weird feeling swept through me, like a blanket had been ripped away. The world seemed colder all of a sudden.
I shook my head: no need to get all dramatic. Even so, I didn’t make a move to go. I shifted the gym bag to my other hand, stalling. I didn’t really want to face my family. I didn’t know how to say goodbye to Elias. He was annoying, but I was going to miss him. Vogue? Maybe not so much.
The Finder Page 23