In the morning there was no sign of Elias and the bedroom door was shut. I started the fire up again, then went in search of breakfast things. Of which, unsurprisingly, there were many. Three kinds of cereal, milk, juice, even a bottle of pancake mix and some maple syrup. I took a bowl of cereal out onto the veranda. I wasn’t hungry, brooding over my fight with Elias, but I ate anyway. I gazed over the railing, watching cockatoos fluttering between trees, goats grazing on the hills across the river. With the daylight, my sense of fear and grief had faded again, receding like the distant memory that had inspired it.
Vogue was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, but her lips shone a brilliant red and she’d clearly spent time doing the best she could with her hair.
‘My phone’s dead,’ she announced, not bothering with any other greeting. ‘Do you think Elias has a charger?’
‘Probably.’
He was the only one who had packed for this trip and I couldn’t imagine him risking a dead-phone-battery emergency.
She put one hand on her hip, surveying me. ‘You should maybe have a shower?’
I was well aware that I wasn’t meeting anyone’s standards for superior grooming; I didn’t need her pointing it out. On the other hand, I hadn’t had a hot shower in what felt like forever.
I kept my reply deliberately unbothered. ‘Yeah, when I’m ready.’
The hot water was heavenly. For a long few minutes I just stood there, wanting it to soak into my every pore. Then, with the supplies from Elias’ gift basket, I scrubbed every inch of myself clean. I towelled myself off and pulled on the cleanest clothes I could find.
Kicking myself for not being more organised—I could have put clothes out to dry overnight by the fire—I hand-washed the clothes I’d been sleeping in, wrung them out, and hung them in the sunshine.
By the time I was done in the bathroom Elias was up and cooking pancakes. His (no doubt) overpriced designer pyjamas looked exactly like the sort you buy at Target, blue and white stripy flannel shirt and matching drawstring pants.
He looked at me. I knew he remembered our argument just as clearly as I did.
‘Can we pretend none of that happened?’ he asked me.
I wasn’t sure how exactly we’d do that. I also didn’t know what else we could do.
I nodded. Elias smiled tentatively.
‘Okay, good. And I’m glad you’re here. I need someone to eat up all these pancakes. Vogue is worried she’s going to get fat.’
I tried to get back into the swing of things. ‘Oh, now she’s worried about that?’
‘I’m right here,’ Vogue complained, coming up behind me. She looked me up and down and added, ‘There’s nothing wrong with caring about how you look.’
Subtle.
Elias sat down and looked at the pancakes on his plate. ‘I think I’m too nervous to eat.’
He was all jumpy again, feet tapping on the floor, fingernails on the tabletop, as if he’d just reminded himself about what he was about to do. I was sure I was supposed to say something reassuring but I couldn’t think of anything. I concentrated on my pancakes instead.
‘What if she really has no interest in me? What if she sees me and she’s like, You’re dead to me, or something like that?’
‘I don’t think she’d say that.’
‘She could have gone looking for me, you know. She could have registered to say, Hey kid, when you’re eighteen, come look me up. Why didn’t she?’
I thought about my own family. ‘Sometimes people just want to move on. Sometimes it’s the only way to…to not go crazy.’
Elias pushed the food around on his plate, not looking convinced. ‘Maybe.’
I looked at my watch. Nearly nine. ‘What time do you want to go around?’
‘When we’re ready, I guess.’ He pushed his plate away and stood back from the table. ‘I’ll go have a shower.’
Vogue had conveniently disappeared, leaving the kitchen for me to tidy, which I did—after all, they’d bought the food and Elias had made breakfast. I was in the kitchen considering lunch options—no harm in thinking ahead—when Elias finally emerged from the bathroom. He was wearing his favourite black skinny jeans, cuffs rolled up, and a denim long-sleeved shirt. He’d tied a yellow bandana at his neck and was holding a pencil in hand.
‘Okay, serious question. Eyeliner or no eyeliner?’
I shook my head, wondering how I’d come to the point where what I was about to say seemed the only reasonable answer.
‘Wear the eyeliner. It’s your thing.’
I went outside to wait for him. The day was warming up, the sun moving higher in the sky. The river was bubbling away and sparkling in the sunshine. Everything seemed bright and happy.
Well, good. I guessed.
A silvery glint caught my eye, something in the bush to my right. A reflection off a metal object? I knew the road turned off towards other cabins somewhere over there. A car arriving or leaving, maybe. We hadn’t seen anybody since we’d arrived, and the thought that there was someone else out there seemed strangely intrusive.
I shook myself, heading back inside. ‘You guys ready?’
Elias was just finishing tying his shoes, the combat boots. He double-knotted the laces and stood.
‘Yep.’ A deep, tremulous breath. ‘Let’s go.’
±
Yesterday, we’d walked the road to the manager’s cabin. In the Mr Whippy van, the bumps were much more apparent. I held on tight, while Vogue bounced around like a pinball between Elias and me. She didn’t complain, which surprised me. Maybe Elias’ nerves had a sobering effect.
We pulled into the manager’s driveway, bumping over a cattle grid, and Elias let out a surprised cry. ‘Hey, that’s—’
A silver BMW, parked askew. I recognised it instantly. Yvonne’s. That flash of silver I’d seen through the trees earlier—maybe it was the same car.
‘What’s she doing here?’ Elias wondered aloud. ‘How did she even know where we were?’
‘I bet she followed us yesterday,’ Vogue piped up. ‘That’s kinda stalky.’
‘Maybe she worked it out the same way we did?’ Elias sounded half-confused, half-hopeful.
‘Maybe she already knew,’ I said quietly. Yvonne had been subdued yesterday. Wary. Before, she’d been chatty and outgoing enough, when we were miles away from finding Sephora. So was it the fact that we were closing in, that we had a real chance of finding her, that had caused the change in Yvonne’s mood?
Elias looked at me, worried. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, maybe she knew where Sephora was all along.’
‘Why would she lie?’
I shrugged. So many possibilities. ‘To protect you, maybe. Maybe she knows things about Sephora that we don’t.’ Yvonne had seemed inordinately interested in our quest. Yet from all accounts she wasn’t that close to Sephora. It seemed unlikely that she’d be so invested in keeping her new life a secret.
We climbed out of the van slowly. Yvonne’s car was empty, and the cabin’s front door was ajar, just a screen door in place. I could hear voices, but couldn’t make out what they were saying.
I glanced over at Elias. He looked pale and I felt a surge of—sympathy? compassion?—for him. It was a nerve-racking thing he had chosen to do. I was feeling a bit anxious myself, and wishing I hadn’t eaten so many pancakes.
As we moved towards the door I raised a tentative hand to touch his back. ‘You’ll be okay.’ To be honest, I thought the chances of him throwing up were pretty high, but I had to say something.
He nodded, not looking at me, and took the final few steps towards the front door. Before he could second-guess himself, he reached out and knocked.
Yesterday I’d stood back to give him space. This time I stood right behind him. There wasn’t much else I could do, but I could at least be there for moral support.
I held my breath as I listened to the footsteps approaching the door. It was dim inside, and I couldn’t make out any details through the flyscreen door. Somehow, though, I knew before it was swung open, outwards towards us, that it was Yvonne we would be facing.
‘Umm…Hi.’
Elias faltered, clearly not knowing how to deal with this development.
‘Hi.’ Yvonne didn’t look at all surprised to see us. That struck me immediately. In fact, I would have bet that she was expecting us. There was a complicated look on her face. Cautious; resigned.
‘I came to see Sephora.’
‘Now’s not a good time. I need to talk to you about some things first.’
‘She’s in there, right? It’ll only take a minute.’ Deciding to seize the moment, he pushed through the doorway and past her.
Not knowing what else to do, I followed. I could feel Vogue on my heels. All for one…
The hallway opened up into a crowded living area. I immediately thought back to Aurora and Benjamin’s house. The room smelled like coffee and fresh baking. It was less modern than the Greenfields’ house, a sort of bohemian cottage style with worn brown leather couches arranged around a fireplace. There were paintings everywhere, in the style I immediately recognised as Sephora’s.
There were two coffee cups resting on a well-worn kitchen table. On the far side of the table, a woman was getting to her feet.
The resemblance was unmistakeable. She had Aurora’s eyes and colouring, though a slimmer figure. And when she saw us, she smiled, that same warm, welcoming smile that Aurora had bestowed on us the first time we’d gone knocking on her door. I felt my heart leap and I thought, She recognises Elias, she’s happy to see him. For a split second, a warm relief suffused me, made me feel that our quest had reached its noble end. Everything that Elias wanted was coming true.
Then she spoke.
‘Oh, you must be the people staying in cabin six. You’re the art students, right? How lovely that you came to visit.’ Bright, sunny words, but I knew they must be a dagger in Elias’ heart. We were strangers.
I saw him swallow, then again, trying to regain his momentum. ‘I’m—I’m—’ But he couldn’t get any further.
‘We came to see you,’ I said, trying to help him get back on track. It didn’t feel right to break the news for him, but I had to help, somehow. ‘We’ve been looking for you.’ I glanced over at Yvonne. ‘Did Yvonne tell you we were looking for you?’
Sephora reached for her coffee cup and took a sip. She seemed calm, and I wondered if she could possibly be oblivious to the anxiety Elias was radiating. She looked over the top of the cup at me and then at her cousin, genuinely perplexed. ‘Yvonne?’
‘Oh, I met them in Sydney. They were asking about you…about your art. It got me thinking about you, that’s why I came to see you. I don’t know how they found you. I didn’t tell them.’
Her words came in a rush and I frowned as I listened, trying to work out why she was lying. It was like she was trying to protect Sephora, as if she thought she was going to react badly if she heard the truth. Was Sephora a total crazy? She seemed normal enough.
Elias found his voice again. He looked at Sephora, eyes searching hers. I could see the raw hope on his face. ‘My name is Elias. I was adopted as a baby.’
It should have been a moment of revelation for Sephora. I’d seen the original birth certificate. His birth mother had called him Elias. Surely the name should have had an instant effect.
But it didn’t. Sephora looked blank, like she was waiting for him to finish a sentence. I had a sinking feeling in my gut. Something’s wrong, something’s wrong, my brain started to chant.
‘I’m your son,’ Elias blurted out.
‘No!’ A cry, but not from Sephora. From Yvonne, who was watching in near horror. Her hand flew to her mouth, as if she realised belatedly that she had called out.
‘What?’ Sephora looked around the room, from Elias to me, to Vogue (who had sensibly chosen to stay quiet), to Yvonne. She looked just plain puzzled. ‘I don’t understand. I don’t have a son.’
The worst of it over, Elias rushed into an explanation. ‘I know you gave me up. It’s okay. I don’t expect anything from you. I just wanted to meet you at least once, to see what you were like. To show you how I turned out.’
Sephora still looked confused, but she spoke gently. ‘Look, you seem like a nice enough kid, but you’ve got your wires crossed somewhere. I never gave anyone up for adoption. I never had a kid. You’ve made a mistake.’
Elias looked dazed. I could see a protest on his lips, but he didn’t say anything. I reached for his arm, tugging on it gently. ‘Let’s go.’
I led him back outside, Vogue bringing up the rear. We made our way to the Mr Whippy van in silence. Elias climbed into the driver’s seat, and then just sat. Vogue and I climbed in beside him. There was silence.
‘I should have told her I forgive her.’ When he spoke finally, his voice was hoarse. ‘I should have made that clear. That she doesn’t have to feel guilty or ashamed about giving me up. I mean, she must be in denial. Maybe it would have helped. Maybe—’ He reached for the doorhandle and I launched myself across the car to stop him, holding the door closed. I vaguely heard Vogue yelp beneath me but I ignored her.
‘Not now,’ I told Elias. ‘Just…not now.’
My brain was still working overtime, frantically sifting the different puzzle pieces, checking and double-checking that they did indeed fit together. So bloody simple. Why hadn’t I seen it sooner?
‘We need to go.’
I glanced at Elias, who was still looking shocked, then around the van. Being able to drive—with or without an actual proper licence—would have been really handy right then. I’d just turned sixteen, but getting my learner’s permit had been the last thing on my mind.
I looked back at Elias. I wasn’t at all happy with the idea of him driving, not in the state he was in.
When I was fairly confident that Elias wasn’t going anywhere, at least for now, I let go of the doorhandle and eased myself off Vogue and back to my seat. She gave me a look, but at the same time it was clear that she was fully expecting me to handle the situation. To fix it somehow. As if I was some freaking genie.
‘I don’t suppose you know how to drive, do you?’ I asked her, my tone oddly conversational.
‘I’m eleven.’
‘Yeah.’ I knew that, of course, but that didn’t seem to stop her doing every other thing that adults did.
She glanced over the dashboard and centre console. ‘My Dad has a manual. It can’t be that hard.’
For a second she sounded like she was actually considering it. That seemed to get Elias’ attention. He shook himself and fumbled for his keys. ‘It’s okay, I can drive. I’m okay.’
He drove slowly, but neither of us complained about that. We got back to our own cabin eventually and he stopped the car and killed the ignition. We sat in silence for another long moment. I glanced across at Elias and could see he was biting his lower lip hard. His fist was clenched.
Vogue glanced over, and saw it as well. She chickened out before I could. ‘I need to pee,’ she muttered, and she climbed over me and out through my door, leaving the two of us in silence.
There was no doubt in my mind. I’d worked it out. I knew why Sephora had reacted the way she had. It had nothing to do with Elias. But how the hell was I supposed to tell him that? He needed to know the whole truth, but I wasn’t sure if he was ready for that.
My heart was racing. I cleared my throat. ‘It’s not Sephora,’ I managed finally. ‘She’s not who you’ve been looking for.’
He turned to me. His eyes shone with tears, and the hurt was written clearly on his face. His eyeliner had smudged a little already, and once I might have laughed at the sight, but I couldn’t find anything remotely funny about it now.
‘Not what? Don’t you get all metaphorical on me. She’s exactly what I was looking for. She just didn’t want me. She’s rejected me, twice.’ He punctuated the last word with his fist pounding the centre of the steering wheel. He fumbled with the doorhandle and then kicked the door. It swung open, and he half-fell out of the car, kicking at the loose rocks on the ground. I followed him more slowly, cautiously climbing out the passenger door and rounding the van to watch him.
I tried to keep my voice steady. ‘I need you to hear what I’m saying. She wasn’t rejecting you. I need you to just let go of it for a second so you can listen to me.’
‘“Let go”? I’m not you, Lindsay. I can’t just “let go” of feelings. I can’t just pretend something never happened.’
I don’t know if he was trying to hurt me, lashing out like that. I’d heard enough crap like that in my life. People wouldn’t always let me shut down the conversation when they wanted to talk about Frankie, and the fact that the subject matter didn’t bring me instantly to tears apparently made me a cold, heartless bitch. But I struggled to believe that Elias saw me that way, he who was so freaking crazy about seeing the best in everyone.
‘Sephora is not your mother,’ I said as calmly as I could. ‘I’m not talking metaphorically, I mean it literally. Forget the birth certificate. Sephora didn’t have a clue who you were because she has never heard of you.’
He stared at me. ‘But…Are you saying we got the wrong Sephora Greenfield?’
‘Not exactly.’ I wasn’t sure how to best explain it.
‘So you’re saying Sephora’s not my real mother?’
I nodded.
He still looked confused. ‘Then who is?’