The Red Cardigan (17 page)

‘Vic?' Nick clears his throat. ‘Evie says she's up there.'

‘What? The wheat silos?'

‘That's right.'

They stand there, their arms folded. Tension all around. Evie goes and sits in the car. Outside she hears them arguing.

‘How could she have got up there, Nick?'

‘I don't know! But that's where Evie says she is.'

‘That's bloody ridiculous!'

‘Well, that's what you got her out here for, Vic.'

‘Fifteen minutes ago she said she thought the girl was on a farm.'

‘She was trying to identify a smell, Rory. Look – wheat, farm. Theo and I understand how this works. You don't.'

‘So what?' Vic yells. ‘You think we should drain everything out of the silos because of that?'

‘You prick,' Nick spits.

‘Come on, guys.' Theo stands between them. ‘Stay calm. Come on, Nicky.'

‘You got us over here,' Nick growls. ‘You made my daughter think you had faith in her. And now you're just going to come to your own fucking conclusion?'

‘I understand this is difficult for you,' begins Vic.

‘Difficult? Difficult?' Nick fights to get closer but Theo holds him back. ‘You don't know what difficult is, mate. She has to live with this for the rest of her life. Do you understand that? Evie has trusted you, Vic. She has – she has let you in on something that makes her so, so vulnerable. My wife, her mother, is sick with fear of what this'll do to her. Do you have any idea how this must feel for her, for us, for our family? I'm not letting this happen, do you hear?'

Vic stares at the ground. ‘I'm sorry, Nick. I can't get a warrant to search the silos unless we have some evidence.'

‘Well, do your job and find some.'

Nick walks back to the car and slams the door.

They drive back to the hotel in silence. Evie has never seen her father so angry. His face is contorted and his eyes are dark. She wants to say something to him. She wants to make him better but they're so past that now. She will leave him to Theo. Theo will know how to handle him.

Before Evie gets out she leans over to the front passenger seat. ‘Vic?'

‘Yes, Evie?' he sighs.

‘There is evidence there. You just have to find it. Look around the four pine trees. It's hidden there somewhere.'

 

In the bathroom Evie takes Athena's red cardigan out of her bag. She rubs it against her face, the wool soft and smooth on her skin. In the mirror she looks pale: the hollowness of her sockets reflect dark shadows underneath. Her left eye is red and puffy. Her bottom lip is swollen where she keeps biting it and tiny cracks at the side of her mouth are opening into sores. She turns her hands over, watching the scratches, like tiny comets shooting in all directions. The knot at the back of her head is so matted now she can only hide it in a bun. For the first time in days she touches it. It's still wet and sticky.

‘How have I come to this?'

But Evie knows the price is small.

Tomorrow they are returning to Sydney. As soon as they got back to the hotel Nick booked tickets on an early flight. In sixteen hours Evie will be home. Back to Alex and to Poppy, whom she hasn't seen in two weeks. Back to the Glebe markets where Petrina will hug her and Ben's crooked smile will only make her laugh. Back to Seb, who keeps her secret. Home, where everything will be different. Everything, because Evie understands she is different now.

The men watch the seven o'clock news. Evie lies curled up on her bed, the red cardigan resting on her shoulders. She won't write anything to Athena, not tonight. It hurts so much when she thinks of Athena's family and their pain at losing their firstborn. Their daughter.

Evie closes her eyes and hums a lullaby her mother used to sing when she'd had a bad dream. ‘Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea.'

 

Evie is lying in her parents' bed. Her mother's arms are wrapped around her, her fingers gently stroking her hair. ‘Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea.' Her mother's breath smells sweet, like milk and honey. ‘Mamma's here,' she whispers. ‘You're safe now. There are no monsters behind the door. Just fairies.' Her eyes feel heavier as her mother's song guides her into sleep.

 

Evie sits up in the hotel bed. ‘Dad?' she calls. ‘I think I'd like to call Mum.'

In Theo's room she dials the number. Robin is home now, waiting for them.

‘Nick, is that you?'

‘It's me, Evie.'

‘Evie!'

Silence.

‘Evie, are you still there?'

‘Yes.'

‘I don't, I don't –'

‘Mum, it's okay.'

‘No. No, it's not,' she squeaks.

Evie can picture her mother curled up on the lounge, a glass of red wine in her hand.

‘I'm so proud of you,' she splutters. ‘I want you to know that. There are things we need to talk about. Things that happened a long time ago. But I did what I thought was best.'

‘The best for who, Mum?'

Silence.

‘I've tried to be a good mum. I know I don't do a very good job sometimes.'

‘Were you scared? Is that what it was?'

‘I was frightened for you. I wanted everything to be perfect,' she sighs. ‘I wanted you to have what I didn't have – love, stability.'

‘What about honesty?'

Silence except for her mother's breath.

‘I just wanted to protect you,' she finally says.

‘This is the way I am, Mum.'

‘I know. I know, Evie, and I don't know what I'd do if anything ever happened to you. I keep thinking about that poor family. We'll just take it slowly, you and me.'

‘I want to go back to school, Mum. I don't really know what I'm going to do but I want to go back. I know that. I just want things to be normal. Normal between all of us.' Evie wipes the tears on her sleeve. ‘Well, as normal as they can be.'

‘You sound different, Evie.'

‘I am.'

 

He drags her off the fence and holds her hand tightly, the cuts stinging under his sweat. He yells and slaps her
face over and over. He holds her cheeks and pulls her lips apart as he screams in her face, his spit flying into her eyes and mouth. He pushes her. The back of her head connects with something hard. She holds the pain; it feels wet and sticky. There's blood on her fingers. She goes to speak but he pushes her again and again until everything goes black. Black. He carries her to the tower but she's a dead weight. Instead he drags her by the legs, her head and body bumping up each metal stair. He forces the door open, props her in the entrance and pushes her in. She falls down, down into the darkness, until the thud. Millions of tiny wheat grains fly up in the air then slowly, slowly settle on her face and mouth.

 

Evie waits for the 6 a.m wake up call. Outside the darkness is turning into a misty grey. She hears the brakes of a truck as it starts and stops at each garbage bin.

Tonight Alex will come over and they'll lie on her bed and she'll tell her things, not everything. They'll find something to laugh about. They always do.

At last the phone rings. The recorded message speaks: ‘At the third stroke, it will be five fifty-nine and seven seconds.'

‘Are you awake?' her dad asks.

‘Yes.'

‘I'll put the kettle on.'

They have a cup of tea, shower, pack and are in a taxi on the way to the airport by 7 a.m.

 

Theo brings the bags back from the check-in desk. ‘The flight's delayed an hour due to morning fog. Let's get a coffee.'

They sit around, not saying much. The airport café is crowded with glum-faced morning travellers. Evie picks at a toasted sandwich and Theo spills sugar on the table. Nick stares out the window at the fog.

‘A watched pot never boils,' Theo tells him.

‘I won't be sad if I never see Adelaide airport again.'

Theo passes Nick the paper. ‘You should read this letter to the editor.'

‘Later,' he says. ‘Evie, have you done your eyedrops this morning?'

Evie starts rummaging through her bag. The bandages on her hands make her clumsy.

‘Give it to me. I'll find them.' Nick's mobile rings. ‘Hang on a sec.'

Theo peers up from the paper. Evie listens to her dad speak. She knows who's on the other end.

‘How? But when did this happen? Shit! Yes, okay. We're at the airport. Yes. Yes.'

‘Who was that?' Theo asks.

‘Vic.'

‘What did he want?' Theo snarls.

‘Evie?'

‘Yes, Dad.'

‘They've found some evidence.'

‘You're kidding!' shouts Theo, scrunching up the newspaper.

‘Vic went back on his way home from work,' he tells them. ‘Something made him want to look around those pine trees. He said it was pretty late but he had a torch. He scratched about in the dirt, gave the trees a shake and bingo, a nest fell out.'

‘What sort of nest?'

‘A bloody bird's nest, Theo.' Nick shakes his head. ‘He was going to his daughter's for dinner, so he took it to show his grandson. He had a bit to drink and ended up staying the night. This morning Vic and his grandson were having a look at the nest when the kid pulls something out from the very bottom of it.'

‘And?' Theo says.

‘It was a piece of red silk with gold and black threads. It's from the jacket Athena wore that night.'

Theo snaps his fingers. ‘The jacket from Evie's dream!'

‘Vic said it was amazing seeing the nest was so small.'

‘Vic thought
that
was the amazing bit?'

‘They're sending a patrol car, Evie.'

‘I know.'

 

The road is taped off. Twenty to thirty police in dark-blue overalls comb the area. Some are looking in the carpark, some dig in the grass along the fence and where the four pine trees stand. A smaller group stand at the bottom of the tower stairs. They look like they're being given instructions. Vic is smoking and talking to a man with ‘
FORENSIC
' written on the back of his coat. Rory can't stop showing his perfect teeth.

Athena's uncle and father stand alone at the end of the road. Evie doesn't know what she's going to say to them. There are no words for this.

‘Here,' she says, pulling the red cardigan out of her bag.

Mr Poulos's hand trembles as he takes it from her.

‘Thank you,' he chokes.

‘No. Thank you,' she whispers and goes back to her father.

The men in blue overalls climb to the top of the silo tower. Their boots clang on each step. When they reach the top they talk for a while, then two of the men pull at the handle of the door. It groans as they slide it open. They disappear inside.

Theo cups his hands around her shoulders and squeezes them.

The mobile is pressed to Nick's ear. ‘They're in there now. I'll call back as soon as we know something.' He shakes his head over and over. ‘No, Robin, no cameras, no journos. It's only us and the police. I know. I know. I'll tell her. Yes, I'll tell her.'

‘Mum?'

‘Yeah. She's in a bit of a state.'

‘She feels far way,' Evie says, sinking back into her father's chest. He wraps his arms around her, holding her tight. Through her spine she feels his heart beating.

‘Our wise, strong, precious girl,' he whispers. The words land on her skin. ‘You believed in yourself, Evie. When there was doubt everywhere you held on. You've handled this with such dignity and, as your mum just said, that's about as proud as a parent can get.' She breathes them in.

They wait and watch the entrance to the tower. Finally a police officer emerges from the doorway. He looks over at Vic and puts his thumb up. Vic nods. ‘They've found her.'

Evie touches her throat. It feels soft. She swallows and the saliva slips gently down. She closes her eyes, the burden lifting from her body. And in the distance she hears the words:

Like one, that on a lonesome road

Doth walk in fear and dread,

And having once turned round walks on,

And turns no more his head.

‘Thank you,' she says.

 

There are reports to fill in and statements to sign. Police headquarters is a buzz of handshakes and backslapping. Men and women in uniform and plain clothes echo their congratulations through the corridors. ‘Well done, Vic', ‘On ya, Van de Meer'. Occasionally they steal a glance at Evie.

And Evie watches them. She doesn't share their feelings. She feels sad. Sad for Athena's parents, sad for Melena and sad for the uncle, Con Poulos, who gently led the grieving father away. Evie can still see the way his shoulders slumped and his back trembled with the realisation that their search and hope for Athena, their firstborn, was over.

Theo takes the seat next to Evie. She covers her nose. He must've just slapped on more aftershave.

‘Well, we got on another flight.'

‘Hmm?'

‘We got on a flight. Ten past four.'

‘Good.'

‘You okay?'

‘I will be,' answers Evie. ‘As soon as I get out of here.'

‘They see it differently to us.'

‘How can they?'

‘Well, be grateful you're still classified a juvenile or we'd be stuck here for days.'

‘So there is something good about being underage,' Evie groans. ‘Remind me to tell Alex that.'

‘You're looking forward to seeing her, hey?'

‘Yeah. Big time.'

‘Apparently they're releasing a media statement at four-thirty. We'll be safely in the sky. That's why your dad's taking so long. He's going over it for the one thousandth time to check there's no mention of you, or your mother will eat him for breakfast.'

Evie frowns.

‘Don't worry. There isn't.'