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Authors: Neven Carr

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BOOK: Forgotten
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That was difficult to imagine. Nowadays, my
parents were the epitome of married bliss, the absolute envy of our
friends and family.

Papa heaved
a long, heavy sigh and then continued. “The constant strain of our
troubles weighed deeply upon us. When your mother became
accidentally pregnant with you….”

Accidentally?

“…we did not think that she would have the
strength to carry you full term.”

“But she did.”


Not quite.
You were born six weeks premature and placed in a humidicrib where
you stayed for nearly two weeks. By then your mother and I were
leading separate lives. She became extremely depressed; doctors
called it post-natal depression, but I knew it was more than that.”
Straining to maintain any solid eye contact, he looked
away.

“So what happened, Papa?”

His next words were faint; I could barely
hear them. “She left. She took Milo and disappeared.”

Nate was the first to react. He inhaled
sharply; his eyes flew wide and unblinking. “I don’t believe this,
Papa.”

Sadly, I
could. A miserable coldness latched onto me. I was in part,
thankful for it. It allowed me to carry on with some semblance of
control. Nonetheless, Saul’s decision to sit next to me didn’t go
unappreciated. I pressed on. “And me… she left me in the
hospital?”

My father nodded.

It went a long way in explaining the
often-emotionless relationship my mother and I shared. “And you,
Papa, what did you do?”

He grabbed
both my hands from across the table and secured them firmly in his
large ones. His skin felt uncommonly cool and moist. “Please
understand, Carino, that I love you more than anything imaginable.
When the hospital released you, I desperately tried to care for
you, but I had too many issues of my own and I
couldn’t.”


Issues?
What issues?” asked Nate. His complexion had paled considerably and
his forehead abnormally puckered. Papa lifted his hand, and pressed
the air between them. To me, it wasn’t an unfriendly gesture.
Simply a clear indication that, as before, Papa didn’t wish to talk
about the more private matters. Nate glanced at me with troubled
eyes. I was sure my own mirrored his.


Trust me,
Carino,” Papa went on.
“At the time I
really did not have the ability to care for you, not properly, not
in the way you deserved.”

“Enter Alice Polinski,” I said.


Yes, she
was a friend of a friend who recommended her highly, no strings
attached. Or so I had thought.” He let out a small mocking laugh
before going on. “As long as I paid her well, she was content to
care for you until I returned. You see, I would visit you regularly
and each time I would vow that I would get better.”

Get better from what exactly?


That I
would get your mother back and then come for you.”

“And you did.”

“It took a long time but as I neared full
recovery, I searched for your mother and Milo. Finding them was the
easy part; convincing your mother to take me back, that was
altogether different. However, in time, she did. I began to believe
that good fortune was finally on my side.”

I couldn’t even imagine what my Papa had
done, the man who glowed with a natural, spirited warmth and
kind-heartedness, to warrant my mother leaving. Still, I wasn’t
about to question it, not after his earlier rebuke.


A small
time passed and she became pregnant with you, Nathaniel.” Papa said
it with much love, but it did little to dispel the visible
discomfit on Nate’s face. “That’s when I returned to retrieve you,
Carino. What I was not prepared for was Alice’s reluctance to let
you go. She saw you as her own child. But, you were not…
you were ours.

Papa took a
long, steady breath before carrying
on.
“I reminded Alice of our initial deal. It was not as if I had led
her to believe anything different. She knew I would be back. Under
the circumstances, your mother and I concluded that a clean break
was best, not just for Alice’s sake, but for yours as well. We
advised her not to come and see you again.”

My father wiped his beading brow with the
back of his hand. “Alice was racked with grief. She ignored our
requests and began turning up on our doorstep, pleading with us to
see you.” Papa stopped, shook his head and groaned. “It was so
pitiful.”

I recalled
the heart-warming Alice when we had first met, tried to connect her
with this sad, obsessive woman. Compassion for her filled
me.

“I wasn’t proud of all that happened,” Papa
said, “but here I was, given this unexpected miracle to start
afresh, to rebuild our family. I could not allow Alice to be a part
of it. She would have been a regular reminder of a time we
desperately needed to forget. Naturally, Alice did not take it
well. She began stalking us, called on our phone many, many times,
even sat at our front door banging and banging and banging.”


So how did
you stop her, Papa?”

My father
clenched his hands into a tight, knotted fist. “I had a restraining
order filed against her. I hated doing it, but I had no other
option.” Papa stopped, looked at me. “Please believe me, Carino, I
did care for Alice, quite a lot. But I cared for our family
more.”

Strangely, I
did believe him. His voice, his expression both appeared genuinely
regretful.


A few days
later, Alice turned up, yet again. I had just returned home from
work. When I got out of the car, there she was, standing across the
road. I was annoyed. I hurried over to her, threatened her with the
police. She pleaded for me not to call them; swore on
your
life,
that she would never contact any one of us again, if she could at
least say one last goodbye to you.”


And did
she, say goodbye, I mean?” As with everything from that era, I had
no memory of it.


Only from a
distance; that was all I would allow. You needed no further upsets
and I didn’t want your Mama to know. The next day, I took you to a
large nearby park. I spotted Alice in the shadows of an old oak
tree. From there she watched you for almost an hour. After that,
she turned and walked away. We never saw or heard from Alice
Polinski again, until of course….”

“She got shot at my complex.”

My father nodded.

“And the figures that you insisted were my
imagination. Could they have been Alice?”


There was
no-one there, Carino. Your Mama and I were naturally concerned when
you first started talking about them but we never saw anyone. We
decided it was most likely a leftover memory from when Alice did
stalk you in Sydney.”

No, Papa, they’ve never been leftover
memories.


In time,”
Papa went on, “we knew if we were to ever escape the past, we had
to leave Sydney. We then moved here, to Nankari Bay, where your
Uncle Al and Aunty Lia were living. Al gave me a job at his
demolition car yard. And little by little, our life got back to
some normality.”

I sat
speechless for a time, absorbing. Certain events were at last
beginning to make sense. Even though, there were still more
questions to ask. I noticed my weary-looking father, his head
buried in both hands. I noticed Nate looking as shell-shocked as a
war ruin and I noticed the very soundless, very unobtrusive Saul
staring at me with… what was it exactly… admiration?

I cast all
three from my buzzing head and began my next round of questions.
“When did you actually give me to Alice?”

My father
looked up. “I will never forget the day…
December 3
.”

The exact
day I received Alice’s birthday cards each year. “Did all the
family know about this?”

“Not me,” piped in Nate.

I forced a smile. All this had to be a far
worse for Nate than it was for me. At least, I had been
semi-prepared for some of it.

“Of course,” my father said.

“And they kept it secret all this time?”

Papa shifted
positions, some of his old self-pride returning in the noticeable
firmness of his voice. “It is the Cabriati blood, Claudia. We stand
by each other no matter what.” And more distinctly,

We look after our
own.

There was something strong and honest in
Papa’s last words.

Yet, highly disturbing.

“And Mama? Did she not once come to see
me?”

Papa sighed heavily. “You are not to be
angry with her. She had her own problems and as expected, she
thought you were safe with me. She didn’t even know about Alice
Polinski, not until much later.”

Perhaps Papa
was right, but it didn’t appease the growing hurt I felt. Lethargy,
disappointment, whatever, took a rapid hold over me, and I slumped
back. I knew there were more questions. But the ability to remain
focused was becoming more and more difficult.

Thankfully, Saul intervened. “Sir, I have a
few questions.”

My father considered Saul with a clear,
hostile expression.

I stepped in
immediately. “Saul is helping me, Papa, and I trust him,
please.”

Papa wasn’t
so accepting. “What can he do for you that we cannot?” he
snapped.

“Not lie to me, for one,” I snapped
back.

Papa scoffed, casting his head aside. “Men
like him will only cause you more harm.”

Men like him?

“You belong here where we can keep you
safe.”


I can keep
her safe also,” Saul announced, seemingly unruffled by my
father’s
harsh appraisal. “But Claudia’s
safety is contingent on us getting to the truth. If she is your
primary concern, then you would be encouraging me, as well as
Claudia, to find the answers.”

For a weird, brief second, I saw Papa as a
father lion fiercely protecting his cherished litter, all stiff,
intimidating bristles and thunderous snarls, ready to pounce.

“You have answers,” he growled.

“And a lot more questions. Need I remind you
that there are two dead bodies associated with your daughter? It’s
important we find out why and who is responsible, before anyone
else gets hurt.”

An unusual fusion of fear and displeasure
crossed my father’s face as he ordered Saul to ask his
questions.

Saul bent forward. “Where did Alice and
Claudia live?”

My father shifted again. This time it was an
awkward, prickly shift. “They lived in a few places.”

“Such as?”


I don’t
know exactly. It was a very long time ago. Once in Parramatta,
Cronulla perhaps.”

“Always in Sydney?”

“Yes, I think so.”

Think so, Papa? Did you not always know where your
so-called precious Carino was?


But you
knew where Claudia was when you
regularly
visited her, when you returned to retrieve her.”

The two men
stared at each other without blinking, appearing as if they were
still conversing. I closed my eyes, seriously questioning how much
more of this ridiculous U-turn in my life I could bear.

“You said you moved to Nankari because of
Alice Polinski. What year was that?”

A distinct, but short pause from my father.
“1990. Claudia was almost eight.”

“And that was how long after you collected
her from Alice?”

“About five months.”


And you
were absolutely sure that Alice wouldn’t have contacted Claudia,
even after the restraining order ran out?”

“Ah, the English peoples,” Papa mocked.

What did Papa mean by that?

Saul remained quiet, watching him.


Alice
Polinski was Italian.” Papa said it as one speaking to a fool.
“When we swear on our family, or on someone we love,
we mean it
. Call it respect, honor, superstition if you want. But I
knew Alice. She swore on Claudia’s life. She would never break that
promise.”


And yet she
did
,” Saul pointed out. “Just
recently.”

“Then there would have been a good
reason.”

“Know what that reason is?”

Papa shook
his head. “I have already said that I had not seen
Alice.”

“Did you know she was living just outside of
Nambour?”

“Not until the police informed me. We were
all rather surprised.”

“Did you inform the police that you knew
Alice?”

“No.”

No? My Papa lying to the police also?


Didn
’t you think they’d find out
eventually?”

I saw Papa’s face screw tightly. “I have my
family to protect.”

Was that even a rational answer?

Saul rubbed his chin. “Any idea who could
have shot Alice Polinski?”

My father half-laughed. “Of course not.”

“Did you know an Anthony Iacovelli? Also
went by the name of Colt?”


The man
found dead in Claudia’s car? No.”

“No idea why he was at your daughter’s
complex?”

“I think I have answered that question.”

“You must have some thoughts on the
matter?”

My father
glared at Saul, livid and surly-like. “Of course I have some
thoughts on the matter. A crazed lunatic out there has targeted my
daughter. This is precisely why I want her home.”

Nate took a
strong hold of Papa’s arm. “Papa, calm down.”

But Saul,
with his systematic composure, was relentless. “One more question,
Mr. Cabriati. What is it that Claudia is
not
to remember?”

BOOK: Forgotten
8.34Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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