Times of Trouble (14 page)

She had written: ‘Hi
Ellen. Nice to hear from you! Sorry to hear that you and Sophie
have lost touch, that must be very sad for you both. I haven’t
heard from her since she went away. I’m still here in Adelaide and
I don’t speak to many of the people I used to go to school with.
Different crowds and all that. But I do have lots of them as
friends on Facebook. I can email them and see if any of them still
hear from her. Tina xx’

I responded that I
would appreciate that. But it was disappointing, as she was the one
most likely to have stayed in touch with Sophie.

Liam and I were now
officially at dead ends. I was still on the laptop, trying to get
used to the Facebook site, when he came back down
stairs.

‘
Are you on my
laptop’ he asked, with some amusement at my audacity.

‘
Sorry, is that a
problem?’ I asked, daring him to complain.

‘
No, no, it’s fine.
Sorry. You can use it.’

‘
I’ve finished now.
Just checking out my Facebook page. Thought it might be a way to
get in contact with people who are still in touch with
Sophie.’

‘
And did you get
anywhere?’

Liam suddenly looked
hopeful, and it was obvious this was an idea he hadn’t had himself.
Trying not to seem smug, I turned the laptop in his direction,
letting him read the email Tina had written back to me. He scanned
the message, slowly shrugging his shoulders as he got to the
end.

‘
I guess it’s not
really likely she would be in contact with her old school friends,
if she lost touch with you and your mum.’

‘
Yeah, I know. It was
just an idea.’

Liam had brought a
plastic carry bag downstairs, and was holding it in front of him
like some sort of offering. I took it from him, and looked through
its contents. It was old Beatles records, and I recognised where
they had come from.

‘
I bought these at
the charity shop. They were Sophie’s. I thought your mum might want
them, so...’

‘
So we can give them
back to her when we find her. Thanks Liam, that was really sweet.’
My cheeks reddened with gratitude, and guilt at my suspicions about
Liam’s motives.

I recognised the
albums; they were my dad’s before they were Sophie’s. She had
commandeered them from his record collection. I wasn’t surprised
they made it all the way to her life in London, and I was grateful
they had been salvaged.

‘
I’m just going to
cook up some pasta for dinner. Do you want some?’

Liam was back to his
polite, charming ways, and I was famished, so I gratefully
accepted. While I stood at the counter and watched him cook, he
poured us both a glass of wine. It was hard not to notice how
devastatingly good looking he was. His face managed to somehow
remain completely placid while his eyes dared me to notice a cheeky
streak. And he had just enough sarcasm to keep him polite without
being an arrogant know all. He looked strong, but ready to cuddle
and as much as I wished I didn't, I had to recognise that I had a
crush on him.

The subject quickly
turned back to what we planned to do the next day.

‘
So where have you
looked in Sydney so far?’

I didn’t want Liam to
revert to his sullen mood. His good mood was so far more
preferable. But it was fair to ask how he had spent the last month,
so we didn’t cover old ground.

He swallowed his
pride and admitted: ‘There’s not really much to tell. I hung around
the places for days where I thought she might be. But they were
just guesses.’

‘
Like
where?’

‘
I thought she might
try to disappear into the tourist crowd around the eastern beaches.
I hung out near the hostels in Bondi, and Coogee. They’re crawling
with English people, but I never spotted Sophie. I showed her
photos at all the major hotels in the city. But that didn’t get me
anywhere either. I also thought she would have to eat at some
stage. So I trawled the shopping centres in the city, in case she
was in a hotel, and had to duck out to get supplies.’

‘
Speaking of hotels,
what sort of accommodation do you think she could
afford?’

‘
I don’t think she
has much money, but it’s impossible to say.’

‘
But let’s assume
that even if she did have some, she wouldn’t want to spend it too
quickly. If it was me, I wouldn’t stay somewhere too central, or
too expensive.’

Liam nodded
grudgingly. ‘So where would you stay, if you were
Sophie?’

‘
When we came to
Sydney for piano competitions, we stayed at those budget places
called Formule 1 Hotels. The ones with the big signs on the side
that say rooms for $79 a night. They sort of look like concrete
boxes with windows in the side.’

‘
I’ve noticed them. I
couldn’t imagine Sophie wanting to stay there.’

‘
I’m sure she
wouldn’t want to stay there. But she might have no choice. Sophie
must remember what it was like to live off hardly any money. I also
wouldn’t stay in a hostel, because I wouldn’t feel safe not having
my own room. But a really cheap hotel room would feel pretty
anonymous. And I wouldn’t stay in the same one for too
long...’

I opened up the
laptop and typed ‘Formule 1 Hotels Sydney’ into Google. The search
listed Paddington, St Peters, Darlinghurst, Casula, Sydney
Airport...

‘
Ok, then let’s start
with these tomorrow. We can show her photo at the front desks.
Maybe we’ll get lucky.’

I had given Liam a
reason to feel excited, and I felt pleased with myself. I really
was helping!

‘
So, this piano
stuff. You must have been pretty seriously into it if you were
flying to Sydney for competitions.’

‘
Oh, I was. Really
serious. But it didn’t work out. Now I’m just a
teacher.’

‘
So you were trying
to be professional? Like, be paid for playing in concerts and
stuff? That must be pretty tough.’

‘
It is. There aren’t
many concert pianists that make a living from it. I thought for a
while I would get there, but I wasn’t good enough.’

Liam didn’t look at
me with the usual pity I expected when telling people my sad tale.
He looked curious, and even a bit surprised.

‘
You don’t seem like
the sort of person who would be a, you know, pianist.’

‘
Well, I’m not a
pianist. So that might have something to do with it.’

‘
No, I don’t mean
that. I mean I sort of picture these pianist types as really...
serious. You know, nerdy types who are all like...’ Rather than use
words, he mimed something that looked like someone with a carrot up
their arse, flailing their fingers around on an invisible
keyboard.

‘
You mean I don’t
seem like a pompous git who thinks they’re god’s gift?’

‘
Exactly.’ Liam
looked relieved that he hadn’t offended me.

I should have left it
there, but couldn’t resist asking the question. ‘So how do I
seem?’

‘
I don’t know, normal
I guess. The way your mum wrote of you...’

‘
...You thought I’d
be a basket case?’ Mum had told Liam I’d been through a rough
time

Liam reddened. I
almost felt amused by how ruffled he was.

‘
I’m just getting to
know you, that’s all. And I never expected you to say you were a
pianist.’

‘
A piano teacher...’
I corrected him. ‘No point being up yourself if you’re just a piano
teacher.’

‘
Well, I guess it’s
lucky you’re not off playing somewhere in Europe now,
hey!’

‘
Why’s that?’ I
asked, thinking that nothing in the world would have made me
happier than performing at that very moment.

‘
Because then you
wouldn’t be here with me, trying to find Sophie.’

I hadn’t even thought
of that. The smile he gave me made my insides flutter, reminding me
of how I felt about Thomas.

‘
When is the pasta
going to be ready? I’m starving! And I’m about to finish this
bottle of wine while I wait!’

I looked away so he
wouldn’t notice it was my turn to blush.

Chapter 14

When I woke up in the
morning, I felt like my body was stuck in the grooves of the old
sofa cushions, making me stiff and grumpy. I had been slightly
surprised that Liam hadn’t offered me his bed. He didn’t seem to
have a problem with the sofa’s derelict appearance. I was trying to
prize myself from my cramped position, coaxing my limbs back to
life, when I heard his phone ring. The muffled sound of his voice
in his bedroom upstairs proved to me once and for all that houses
in Sydney are too small. I could make out what he was saying, and
without being able to help it, listened in.

‘
I just have to,
ok?’...‘it’s not as simple as that’...‘I know you’re not made of
money...’ ‘You can’t help who you love’...’just listen to
me’...‘it’s not about that’...‘I just have to, ok’... 'I have to go
mum...’ He sounded angry, hissing into the phone, but trying hard
not to raise his voice.

From the long gaps
between what he was saying, it seemed like his mum was having a bit
of a rant. I heard Liam open his bedroom door, and as he breezed
down the stairs, the expression on his face showed he had
absolutely no idea I had overheard him. So I kept my expression
neutral, not wanting him to guess I had been listening. Who had he
been speaking about? It couldn’t be Sophie could it? Surely
not.

He seemed to be
forcing a cheerful demeanour, saying to me: ‘We should get going
before the Monday morning traffic is really bad. We can get
breakfast on the road.’

Did this mean he
wanted to leave right now? I was hardly awake, let alone ready to
leave the house.

‘
What time is it?’ I
asked, as I tried to conceal myself behind the door before Liam saw
the old baggy night gown that I had been wearing for too many years
to count.

‘
It’s 7:30. Do you
want a quick shower? I’d like to leave in about 10
minutes.’

Liam spoke with
forced politeness, but he was obviously frustrated I wasn’t out of
bed, and ready to go. He can’t have lived with a female before: 10
minutes was barely enough time to wash my face, let alone get ready
to leave. Back at home, I wasn’t usually out of bed until
9:00am.

‘
I’ll have one later.
I don’t want to hold us up.’

I dragged on the
clothes I had worn the day before; they had been sitting crumpled
on top of my bag on the living room floor. I would have to remember
to set the alarm on my phone tomorrow. I didn’t want Liam to think
I was treating this trip to Sydney like a holiday. He stood in the
hall waiting for me, car keys in hand, as I quickly combed my hair,
brushed my teeth and put my contacts in. When I pulled on my trusty
cargo pants I noticed Picasso's spare wire was still in the pocket.
It reminded me I'd need to find a moment to do some washing in
Sydney. Liam was acting like there wasn't enough time to dress, let
alone wash. Was there any other thing he could do in the world to
make me feel more rushed than stand staring at the closed front
door? I was surprised he hadn’t already got in the car and turned
the engine on.

The street was very
quiet when we eventually made it out the door. Liam jumped into the
car and sat impatiently waiting for me to get in. But I couldn’t
help taking a moment to notice the car’s number plate. It was
symbolic for me- XYD
960. As I
got in, I told Liam it was a good omen.

‘
That’s the same
number as my favourite Schubert Sonata – D 960…’

Liam ignored me, and
zoomed off from the
curb like
he was on a mission, barely waiting long enough for me to close the
door.

He had the three
photos of Sophie, and he’d written down the names and addresses of
all the Formule 1 hotels in Sydney. As he drove, he explained he
thought we should start at the airport one, as this was the first
cheap hotel Sophie would have seen after getting here. I suspected
if she had ever stayed there, it would have been when she first
arrived. She wouldn’t be there now. It wouldn’t have been safe for
her to stay for more than two months. But I preferred not to
contradict his plans, so I said nothing.

‘
Do you get nervous
at all, about these people? Do you think they might work out you’re
looking for Sophie?’ I asked, as we slowed to a crawl, hitting the
first traffic jam of the morning - something that seemed to be
unavoidable in this city.

‘
Not at all,’ he
said, with complete and utter certainty, which made me feel
slightly better. ‘You said yourself that we are just two people
searching for one other person. How could they even know we
exist?’

I might have said
that, but it didn’t mean I believed it. ‘All I know,’ I said, ‘is
that whoever they are, they seem to be very good at tracking people
down. How on earth would they have known Katie was in Sydney? And
then they found her, didn’t they. She’d changed her name and
everything.’

‘
That is a bit scary.
But there’s still no connection to us.’