Unseen Messages

by Pepper Winters

  “It doesn’t work like that.”

  “It can work however you want it to work.”

  “I’m afraid that isn’t the case.”

  Estelle clutched my hand in hers. “We’re married. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

  “Legally?” Daphne raised her eyebrow. “You have a marriage certificate and evidence of this union?”

  Estelle straightened her spine, fighting for me. For us. “For all intents and purposes. Yes. Coco is evidence of our relationship. Surely, that’s enough.”

  “But the paperwork?”

  Estelle didn’t reply.

  I did. “No, we don’t have a damn piece of paper. But that shouldn’t matter. We’re not separating. End of bloody story.”

  The two officers stared at each other as if we were troublemakers and not long-lost prodigal returners.

  Behind us, Nana Evermore couldn’t stop touching Pippa. The longer Pippa stood with her grandmother, the more she lost the persona of wild urchin capable of anything and transmogrified into a scared eleven-year-old girl, bowing to her elders.

  Don’t be that kid, Pippi.

  I knew her better than that. This was just shock.

  Where was the quiet but super-intelligent young woman? Where was the witty jokester, the inquisitive sea-sprite?

  I knew where...back on the island. Just like the rest of us.

  Nana Evermore interrupted. “Talking of documentation. I’m assuming all ours are in order?”

  Estelle’s head snapped up. “What documentation?”

  The immigration officers nodded. “You are correct. A temporary passport has been issued and you’re free to return to America.”

  “What?” Estelle stumbled. “No!”

  Coco sniffed, her face going red with ready-to-spill tears.

  “You can’t. I won’t let you.” Estelle dashed to Pippa’s side. “You don’t want to go back to America, Pippi. Stay with us. We’re your family now. You, me, G, Coco, and Conn—” She realised her mistake too late.

  Pippa’s face hardened and fell all at once. “My brother is dead.”

  She finally said it.

  I wish she hadn’t said it.

  “I need to be with my family.”

  “We are your family.” Estelle grabbed her elbows, ignoring the old woman tutting under her breath. “Pip, don’t do this. We’ll heal together.”

  Wisdom far beyond her years filled her gaze. She threw her arms around Estelle. “I’ll always love you, Stelly. I’ll visit and call and never ever forget you. But...I want to go home.”

  Home.

  Turned out one of us hadn’t replaced that word with our island. Pippa had been the youngest to crash yet the one to hold onto the illusion of civilisation the longest. She’d been loyal while we’d traded our city lives believing our stranding was forever.

  I couldn’t begrudge her for that. And I couldn’t let her go feeling as if she’d let us down.

  Even though I suffocated inside, I went to her and wrapped her in an adoring hug.

  Nana Evermore politely moved away, proving she wasn’t the ogre I wanted her to be.

  She was just a grandmother who believed she’d lost her entire bloodline only to find one back from the dead.

  If I were in her shoes, I’d want to steal Pippa the second I could, too.

  “We love you, Pippi.” I spoke into her hair, smelling the Fijian breeze and coconuts of our island. “Keep your promise and stay in touch.”

  She nodded as I let her go. “Always, G. I’ll always love you. Always.”

  I nudged her chin. “Conner and your parents would be very proud of you.”

  She forced a weak smile. “I hope so.”

  Estelle struggled to let her go, but I pulled her into my arms and held on tight. I didn’t let go as Pippa gave us one final wave and took her grandmother’s hand.

  With a smile and promise to call when they landed, Pippa walked out of our lives for good.

  It’d taken days to fall in love with her, years to get to know her, and now, we’d lost her in mere moments.

  That was the worst part, but as we turned to face the officers, it turned out it wasn’t the only piece of terrible news.

  There was more.

  “Estelle Evermore, you have free clearance to enter Sydney and will be placed in a temporary apartment until your affairs can be resonated and your death certificate revoked. Unfortunately, your home has been sold along with your belongings, but your last will and testament has been overseen by Madeleine Burrows.”

  Estelle jolted, latching onto new subjects. “I didn’t—I didn’t know I had a will. And Madi. Is she here?”

  Alex shook his head. “We weren’t aware to contact her. The captain of the Pacific Pearl gave no such instruction. However, your lawyer has been notified, and he advised Ms. Burrows of your safe return. I believe she will pop in to see you once you’re settled.”

  Estelle focused on the good news while I focused on the bad. She had a home to go to, permission to take our daughter, and a friend waiting to welcome her.

  Me...the jury was still deliberating.

  If it were anything like the last jury I’d faced...I was in deep shit.

  Every muscle locked as the man delivered my verdict. “As for you, Mr. Oak. We are aware of your ordeal, and under normal circumstances, we would offer compassionate grounds to allow entry for a time. We would overlook the fact you do not have the necessary visas and work with you to ensure future paperwork was arranged. However, you are a convicted felon. You have a criminal record.

  “As per Australian law, we don’t permit serious offenders into our country without a full background check and deliberation. Even then, it’s never guaranteed.” He peered at me over the bridge of his glasses. “Especially for murderers.”

  And just like that...I’d gone from almost dead to forbidden.

  Estelle was no longer mine.

  My past had finally caught up with me.

  It was over.

  Chapter Seventy

  ...............................................

  E S T E L L E

  ......

  THIS CAN’T BE happening.

  I couldn’t let it happen.

  Galloway was mine.

  I was his.

  I’d delivered his daughter.

  We loved one another.

  “You can’t be serious?” My voice resembled a shrill violin. “What do you intend to do?”

  The immigration officer (who’d become my nemesis) cleared his throat. “He will be held in the detention centre for his flight tomorrow and deported to the United Kingdom.”

  I couldn’t stop shaking.

  No, no, no...

  Coco jumped off her chair, rushing on her tiny legs to grip my thigh. “Ma-ma. Home?”

  Automatically, I scooped her up, not tearing my eyes from the asshole trying to rip apart my family.

  He’d already stolen Pippa.

  He wouldn’t steal my husband, too. “It’s okay, Coco. Don’t worry.” In the same breath, I snarled, “Where he goes, I go. You want to put him in a cage...fine. But you’ll put me in there, too.”

  I watched my angry spectacle almost as an outsider. I saw Galloway stiffen and his rage at my conviction. I knew he would argue and encourage me to return home (not my home anymore) and let him sort it out when he arrived in England.

  But I wouldn’t let that happen.

  We’d been together every day for almost four years. I thought I’d lost him. I’d watched him die. There was no way in hell I would let them shove him on a plane and pay for a crime he’d already paid for.

  The fact I could stare at these people and stand by my husband knowing he’d killed but know nothing of the facts could be seen as blind naïvety.

  But I knew Galloway.

  He’d served his penance.

  Even if he hadn’t been in jail the past few years, his conscience and soul had paid. Time and time again.

  He was purged
and forgiven.

  “Stel, wait.” G grabbed me. “Think of Coco. They can lock me up, but I won’t let them imprison my daughter.” He held my cheeks with shaking hands. “Please...do it for me. We’ll be together again soon.”

  Whatever remaining shards of my heart splintered to dust. “You don’t know what you’re asking me.”

  “Yes, yes I do.” His eyes blazed with blue horror. “Do you think I want to be incarcerated again? It fucking terrifies me, but I’m willing to do what is needed to keep you safe. And if being deported is the key...then so be it.”

  “No, I’ll fly to England with you. I revoke Australia. If they can do something this cruel, I don’t want to live here anymore.”

  “Stel, we have to be reasonable. We don’t know what will happen. I haven’t been able to get hold of my father, even though the captain assured me he was alive when I gave him the details. I don’t know if he’s in a home or sick or where we’d end up.”

  Self-hatred and despicable confession trickled over his features. “I’m penniless, Estelle. I have nothing to my name. I’m broke. I won’t subject you and Coco to an unknown country with no home to go to. Think of how terrified the poor kid would be. It’s cold there. No beach. No sun.”

  He shuddered as he gathered me against him. “This is the only way. Here, she’ll be confused, but at least, she’ll be around things she remembers. We’ll find a way back to each other, you’ll see.”

  “You’re an idiot, Galloway. Do you think she cares about the ocean when she’s about to lose her father?” I punched him in the chest. “No! I won’t let you do this.”

  The male officer came closer, hugging his clipboard as if it would save him from my furious glare. “Mr. Oak, I’m afraid the bus is here to take you to the compound. If you can say your goodbyes, I’ll make sure Ms. Evermore and her child are taken to the apartment.”

  Galloway whirled on the man, fists clenched and murder in his gaze. A sheen of sweat hinted he didn’t feel as strong as he looked. I wanted to kill everyone for stealing what progress he’d made. “Don’t fucking talk to me about goodbyes. Got it? You’ll give us the time we need. It’s the least you can damn well do.”

  The man froze, before backing off slowly. “Fine...yes, of course.”

  Galloway turned, leading me away. “Get to the apartment and call my father.”

  “Your father?”

  I remembered our conversations. Late at night, beneath the stars, still craving electric light and ice cubes, Galloway revealed a little about his family. His father who suffered viral infection after viral infection after his wife died of breast cancer because his grief stripped his immune system.

  He made his father sound sickly and sad, but there was a rod of strength there, too. To remain living when your soul-mate died? I’d lived that horror for a few hours, and I’d almost broken.

  I couldn’t imagine enduring such hardship for the rest of my life.

  “Call my old number. The captain left a message on the machine when he couldn’t get through. I told my father I’d ring him when we docked. He’ll be expecting a call if he got the recording.”

  He took a deep breath. “I haven’t told you my full story, Stel, but my father will. He has everything he needs to clear my name. I don’t know why it happened. I don’t even really understand how. But there’s a reason why I was freed after being sentenced to life. If the English courts can overthrow a conviction like that, then that same information will convince these assholes that I’m not going to murder downtown Sydney. That I had a reason. That my sentence was revoked. That my record should’ve been expunged. My father will help us be together.”

  “I—I—” The thought of talking to the man who’d raised Galloway into such an incredible person intimidated me. Who was I? I was just the woman who’d crashed with him. The woman who’d done such a bad job of setting his broken ankle he moved with a permanent limp.

  I wasn’t worthy.

  But I’m also the woman who claimed his heart.

  The woman who carried his child.

  The woman who loved him more than anything else on earth.

  If that didn’t make me worthy...what did?

  G’s lips touched mine, kissing me hard. “Promise me, you’ll call him.”

  I’d made so many promises in the past few days, I could no longer keep track. I’d promised to leave him while he was dying. I’d promised to love him, obey him, fight for him.

  I’d also cried more tears than I’d ever cried in my life, yet I still had more to shed.

  “I promise, G. I’ll call him. I’ll get this awful mess sorted out.”

  His kiss turned vicious. “Thank you. Thank you for trusting me and being on my side.”

  “Always. I’m forever on your side.”

  “I love you.”

  “I know.”

  I couldn’t stop my tears as Galloway kissed me one last time, kissed his daughter, hugged us tight, then disappeared with his jailers to be deported.

  Chapter Seventy-One

  ...............................................

  G A L L O W A Y

  ......

  TERROR.

  That was the only word I could use to describe the feeling of walking into the holding cell. Not that it was a cell compared to the last one I’d inhabited. This was more like a basic hotel room. A proper toilet with walls (not a metal pan with no privacy), a bed with sheets (not a cot with scratchy blankets), and meals served on crockery rather than slopped into plastic moulded troughs in a buffet line.

  But nothing could change the fact that for a few incredible years I’d been free.

  I’d been happy.

  I’d been the best man I could ever be.

  And now...they’d stripped me of everything.

  Stolen my wife.

  Kidnapped my daughter.

  Robbed me of my family.

  All over again.

  Chapter Seventy-Two

  ...............................................

  E S T E L L E

  ......

  The panic of having another control your fate. The dread of relying on strangers to fix it. The powerlessness of being alone.

  That is my life.

  My new life.

  I want my old life.

  When living another day wasn't dependent on bribing and bowing.

  When fate was negotiable as long as we paid the right price.

  Now?

  I have no idea the cost of my future.

  Taken from Narrabeen Apartments Notepad.

  ...

  RING RING.

  Ring ring.

  I’d been obsessed with calling the number Daphne Moore had given me (courtesy of the information pack the captain had provided) for Galloway’s father.

  The entire taxi ride to my new address. The entire run from journalists as they swarmed me. Even the moment of stepping into the cramped one bedroom apartment where cool porcelain tiles decorated the walls and the kitchen bounced late afternoon sunshine with its high gloss white cabinets.

  It was sterile.

  Unalive.

  And I hated it because Galloway wasn’t there.

  My prison guard left me once she was happy her task was complete. Placing the key on the kitchen bench, she murmured some nonsense apology about tearing my family apart and left.

  She was wise to leave.

  I’d allowed silence to be a curt form of politeness. I didn’t answer her awkward attempts at small talk. I didn’t glance at her when she touched Coco and made soothing sounds in the taxi.

  I ignored her.

  Because if I didn’t.

  I’d kill her.

  Then Galloway wouldn’t be the only convicted murderer.

  My soul panged for Pippa, for my competent babysitter, while Coco screamed and cried with uncertainty over her new life.

  I cooed her. I bounced her. I did everything I could to ease her tears while I yanked the phone off its cradle and dialled th
e number.

  Everything felt too much. Too heavy. Too hard.

  But I clung to the phone waiting, waiting, waiting for it to connect with my last hope.

  “Hello?” a groggy voice answered.

  Screw time zones. Screw sleep and rude awakenings.

  I didn’t bother with introductions.

  I’d used up my civil refinement and had nothing left.

  “Mr. Oak. Your son is being held for deportation tomorrow against his wishes. He’s my husband, the father of my child, and I’m Australian, yet they won’t grant him entry based on his criminal past.” A hiccupped sob threatened to derail me. “Please...Galloway told me to call you. That you’d know what to do. That you had paperwork proving he wasn’t what they said he was and would find a way to let him stay.”

  For an eternity, no reply.

  Then harsh breathing as a man I’d never met teared up.

  It seemed tears were in never-ending supply these days.

  “Did you say you are his wife? That you have...children together? That he’s alive.”

  “Yes, we crashed together. We survived and had a child. A girl. Coconut...long story. And yes. We don’t have the stupid piece of paper sharing last names, but we’re together. We’re married. I love him with everything I have.”

  “My son is alive.” A loud sniff. “And he has a family of his own. I don’t know who you are but I adore you already.”

  I laughed...such an odd reaction, but somehow, calmness trickled down the line. “So, you’ll help me?”

  “Child...I can most definitely help you.” He paused. “First, I need the email or fax number of the bastards holding my son. Second, I’ll need to know everything about where you’ve been and how you survived. And third, I want to meet the woman who has become my daughter-in-law.”

  I smiled for the first time in days. “I have the business card of the men who took him. I’ll recite it. But for now...my name is Estelle.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Estelle.”

  “You too, Mr. Oak.”

  “No. None of that. Call me Mike.” Shuffling sounded followed by a yawn. “Now...give me that bloody email address, and let’s get my son out of jail. Again.”

  .............................

  I’d done all I could.

  I’d given cliff notes on the past three and a half years.