No one on the train seemed to notice that the backpack at the feet of the skinny kid crammed by the window seemed to be alive, moving of its own accord until Houdini settled down.
It was an agonisingly slow journey, as the train stopped at every tiny station along the tracks. Pip’s stomach did cartwheels the whole way. She tried to imagine what Cass would say and do, whether she would be pleased or shocked to see Pip, or even a bit scared.
It didn’t worry Pip if Cass didn’t think she could take care of her; Pip could take care of them both. After all, she had looked after Sully when he got sick and frail. She had raised money for rehab after his stroke, even though he’d died before he could get there. Somehow, Pip would make it work, and they would live happily ever after like in all the best books.
The time she’d spent with Frankie had perhaps slowed her down a little, but in a strange way, it had also given her a better understanding of how her mother might have felt ten years ago, upset about the mistakes she’d made and not sure what to do next or where to turn for help.
If Cass was anything like Frankie – rebellious and defiant on the outside, but just as scared as anyone else on the inside – Pip knew she could cope. She would be strong enough for both of them.
Holding on to this thought, she got off the train at the town where Cassandra lived, full of confidence that things would work out. First, though, she had to find the house with the red door.
It was late on a golden summer morning when Pip walked out of the station into the pretty little town with a river running through it. It was decorated for Christmas – not much more than two weeks away – and bustling with shoppers. As she let Houdini out of the backpack, Pip thought she would be very happy to live here with Cass, as long as there was a school with teachers as good as Mr Blair from Spring Hill Public and kids as nice as Matilda.
As methodically as they could, they scoured the streets around the town centre, walking up one and down another, searching for the red door. Pip did her best to remember each street so they didn’t end up going over old ground.
The afternoon was half gone when they stopped for a snack before continuing their search. Just before evening fell, the sun was in her eyes and she almost walked right past the house, but there it was, on the other side of the street. She was sure of it. The red door had a little window in it, which she remembered from the Facebook photo.
At the moment, the door was closed, and she couldn’t see any movement inside.
Pip stood looking at the house for a long time. Everything she’d wanted for so long was just metres away. All she had to do was walk across the street and knock on that red door, Cass would open it and things would be all right.
Taking her faltering courage in both hands, she did just that. Her palms were slippery with sweat, and she felt light-headed at the thought that her mother was just beyond that door. After ten years – her whole life – without her mother, Pip would see her, speak to her, perhaps even be hugged by her.
‘It’s okay, Houdini,’ she told him, her hands shaking as she tied his lead to the fence separating the footpath from a tidy front yard full of flowers. ‘We’ve made it and everything will be okay.’
Houdini wagged his tail encouragingly.
Before she could change her mind, she walked up the path, past a rather shabby car parked in the driveway, to the red door and pressed the doorbell. Footsteps clattered towards the door and Pip heard a man’s voice call out. ‘Don’t you open that door, Jake! I’m coming, just wait a second.’
A moment later it was pulled open about two centimetres. Pip found herself staring down at a dark-blond, apple-cheeked boy of about four, his mouth smeared with chocolate.
‘Hello,’ the boy said. ‘Who are you?’
‘I’m…’ Pip’s voice failed and she had to clear her throat.
‘I thought you were my mummy,’ the boy added. ‘She’s late. Sometimes she forgets her key.’
Heavier footsteps sounded behind him. ‘Jake! I told you to wait a minute!’
‘You said to wait a second, and I did, Dad!’ the little boy replied. ‘I only opened it a very little bit. It’s not Mummy.’
The door opened fully to reveal a sandy-haired man wearing a frazzled expression and a rumpled business suit, and carrying a baby.
‘Hello,’ he said. ‘Who’s this?’
Pip began again. ‘I’m looking for…’ She stumbled to a halt as her eyes slid over a large, framed black-and-white photo on the wall to the left of the man’s head. It showed a couple holding hands, looking as if it was the happiest day of their lives. In it, the same man who now stood in the doorway was dressed in a dark suit, and the woman – who was definitely Cassandra Farrow – wore a pale, floaty dress and flowers in her hair. It was clearly their wedding day.
Her heart sank. So Cassandra Farrow wasn’t her Cass, after all. This Cassandra had a husband and kids of her own. She had a nice-looking home and a responsible job. She couldn’t be Pip’s troubled Cass with the turbulent past, moving from place to place, never able to settle down.
‘Are you one of Cassandra’s kids?’ the man asked, jiggling the baby who had started to cry.
Pip’s eyes opened wide. If he was Cassandra Farrow’s husband, didn’t he know? She shook her head.
‘Sorry, I should have said clients,’ he added and swapped the baby to his other arm, blocking the photo from Pip’s view. ‘Mia, hush now. Mummy will be home soon.’
‘No,’ Pip said again. ‘I’m sorry, I was looking for someone but this isn’t the right place.’
‘No worries.’ He turned away as the baby’s cries grew louder. ‘Jake, close the door, please. And wash your face before your mum gets home or I’ll be in trouble. You know how she feels about chocolate before dinner.’
The man’s footsteps retreated down the hall.
‘Do you know my mummy?’ Jake asked.
‘No.’ Pip shook her head. ‘I have to go.’
He looked at her curiously. ‘Who are you, then?’
‘No one.’
He looked disappointed. ‘Okay then. Bye,’ He closed the door and she could hear his footsteps thudding along the hall after his father.
Pip walked away from the red door, and untied Houdini without being aware of it. Never had she felt so low, at least not since Sully had died. Just five minutes ago, she’d had such high hopes. Now, she almost wished she’d never knocked on that red door. At least that way, she could imagine her mother on the other side, even if it wasn’t true.
Pip was so lost in her thoughts that she almost walked into a woman rushing the other way, weighed down by a plastic shopping bag in each hand.
‘Sorry,’ they both murmured, and continued on.
As Pip and Houdini turned the corner, she saw the woman walk up the path to the red front door. She supposed she must be Jake’s mother home from work.
Pip and Houdini walked on and on, as thoughts and feelings tumbled around inside her. How silly she’d been to think that, of all the Cassandras in Australia – in the world! – she’d just happened to stumble across the right one. But she had thought that, and now she was like a balloon that someone had stuck a sharp pin into.
Sully was right. He’d always said, ‘Expect the worse. Sometimes you’ll be pleasantly surprised.’ At least that way you didn’t get your hopes up only to have them dashed.
Not sure where to go now, Pip walked and walked until the sun went down and the shadows lengthened. She walked until Houdini decided he’d had more than enough walking. He sat down on the footpath and refused to move, even when Pip tugged on the lead. When he still wouldn’t budge, she looked around.
They were hopelessly lost. For all she knew, they’d been walking in circles, although nothing looked familiar. The houses were few and larger, with big gardens that spilled out onto the footpath.
Pip sagged where she stood. Suddenly she had no more energy than Houdini, and no plans. She was all out of ideas.
After a drink and a biscuit bribe, saved from yesterday, Houdini reluctantly stood and they continued slowly on. At a public phone, Pip thought dully about calling the Brownings or Mr Blair or Molly Dunlop. They would be angry with her, furious probably, but they would know what to do. They would send the cops or the welfare to pick her up and she’d be safe, but what then? All she knew was that once the authorities took over, she would have no say about what happened to her.
In the end, she called Matilda’s mobile. As it must be well after her bedtime, Pip was not surprised to get voicemail. She left a message that she and Houdini were okay and that no one should worry.
Too tired to walk any further, they sat down behind a large bush that mostly hid them from the street. Pip only dozed, too afraid to fall completely asleep, and before the sun rose the following day, she was wide awake, Houdini snuggled against her, snoring.
Where to now? She stared up towards the clouds that drifted slowly across the pale blue sky. A faded old street sign rose above the footpath and the shrub she sat under with the words ‘Byron Bay 6 km’.
Abruptly, she sat up, ignoring Houdini’s grumbles at being disturbed. Byron Bay had always been her destination. Just because she’d been unlucky, that was no reason to abandon her quest. There was always hope, but next time she wouldn’t count her winnings before the race had been won!
From her backpack, Pip fumbled out Cass’s creased, nine-year-old postcard with its picture of the ocean and beach and palm trees, and wanted to see it for real. They were so close, just six kilometres away.
Yes, she decided, they would go to Byron Bay and search for Cass there. And maybe this time her luck would be in.