‘Did she take her backpack when the two of you went for your walk the other morning?’
Emmie blinked and shook her head slowly. ‘No, no I don’t think so. We didn’t take anything.’
The police officers scribbled in their notebooks. ‘Was there anything happening in her domestic life? I understand she also has a daughter who’s in Sydney with her father. Anything that might cause Pen to leave suddenly?’
Nathalie exchanged a helpless look with Emmie.
‘No, she would never,’ said Emmie, her voice thick with emotion.
‘Look, we’re just trying to get a proper read on what’s happened,’ the younger woman said.
‘We’ll have more questions. I’d just ask that you postpone your return to Sydney. Until we get a bit more of a bearing on things,’ the older woman said. ‘And obviously, there’s her little boy to look after. I understand his father isn’t in the picture.’
‘That’s right,’ said Emmie, her voice now small.
‘Of course, we’ll stay as long as we need to and look after Will,’ Nathalie said, even though every molecule of her body wanted to leave this place. Wanted to see Richie. She imagined the softness of his chubby little fingers, the way his face would light up with a smile. It had been too long.
‘We’ll keep in touch this afternoon and this evening. The search will resume in the morning if we don’t find her in the next few hours.’ The women handed them their business cards and left. Nathalie began aggressively clearing the cups of tea from the table, but her hands were shaking. She needed to do something, anything to distract herself from the dread that was pooling inside her gut.
‘I feel like I got us all into this mess,’ Alexandra said, wiping her hands down her face. ‘God. Why is her stuff gone?’
Nathalie put down the teacups and straightened.
‘Pen wouldn’t have just left him. I know you’re wondering Alexandra, but I can feel it in my bones.’
‘It’s not that I think she just up and left Will, it’s just that that is one of the possibilities. The police are considering it, we have to consider it. We could all see how much she was struggling with Will and his . . . I don’t know. I don’t blame her. He’s a lovely kid but, you’ve got to admit, he’s a bit different.’
‘Really?’ Emmie was looking at Alexandra. ‘You really think that she just walked because her son is a bit different?’
‘I said it’s not that I think that, but it’s a possibility,’ said Alexandra, sounding exasperated. ‘I’m just being real.’
‘I don’t think it’s a possibility,’ said Nathalie, catching Emmie’s eye.
‘Fine. I just think it’s being logical. But who am I to say?’ said Alexandra, leaving the room with the tea tray and her head held high.
The silence in the room felt loaded as Nathalie looked at Emmie. They hadn’t spoken since the incident with the broken glass. Since she’d spoken those harsh words. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, dropping into the lounge and covering her face with her hands. It was all too much. What had happened last night with Caleb, Pen gone. She couldn’t even begin to unpack the stuff with Caleb. She’d avoided seeing him all day. The guilt of it prickled, like salt drying on skin. ‘For what I said about the Instagram stuff. It all seems so trivial now. It was mean.’ She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath.
Emmie sat beside her, her hands wringing in her lap. ‘No, I’m the one who should be apologising. What I did was self-indulgent and thoughtless,’ she said. ‘I never meant to hurt you or steal your identity or anything like that. I didn’t even think. I don’t know where my head’s been at.’
‘I know the feeling. God.’
‘And what I said about your drinking was really out of line. I mean, you have three kids. Of course, you use wine as a bit of a crutch.’
Nathalie swallowed with difficulty and felt self-loathing move inside her. ‘No. No, you were right.’ She couldn’t look Emmie in the eyes.
Silence fell, blanketing them both.
‘I think we just upset Alexandra,’ said Emmie, changing the topic.
‘Well, I can’t believe she actually thinks Pen left Will. I mean, I think we both know something has happened to Pen, don’t we? That she didn’t just leave Will behind. I don’t really understand about her stuff, but my gut tells me that she didn’t just take her stuff and leave. And where would she go?’
Emmie looked around. ‘Just checking the kids aren’t around to hear. Honestly, maybe Alexandra’s got her head in the sand because she’s known Macie since school, and she doesn’t want to offend her, but something’s not right here. I mean, this place. The valley. The history. Those ruins. The stuff with the ghosts.’
Nathalie felt a ripple across her shoulders, and she looked behind her despite herself. ‘Oh my God. Thank you. I wanted to say as much to the police but they’re probably locals and I thought they might get offended or something.’
‘We should have,’ said Emmie. ‘Said something.’
‘But it’s hard. How do you put a feeling like this into words? Something just feels . . . I don’t know . . . I don’t know if I can even articulate it out loud.’
‘I know what you mean. And Will and the ghosts. He told me he was reading an old diary last night and Pen got upset when she saw it and he thinks that’s why she’s gone. What’s he got into his little head?’
‘Oh no, poor little thing. We should go and check in on him.’
‘You go, I’ll clean up the rest of this,’ said Emmie.
‘Thanks,’ said Nathalie, relieved to feel the tension between them easing.
She stepped outside to find the escarpment blue with shadow and the afternoon light golden, softened, like butter. The harshness of the surrounding bush had been mollified by these last gentle hours of daylight. There were police cars in the car park but, apart from that stark reminder of reality, it was beautiful. The feeling she and Emmie had just spoken of was absent. It felt strangely peaceful.
But she thought of those white handprints on the cave wall, luminescent reminders of an ancient people who had suffered such loss in these parts. Of the Indigenous woman Caleb had told them about, who had fled with her baby and escaped the terrible massacre in the valley. She thought of the abandoned air of the mines and the township, of Will’s face when he’d seen the mysterious woman at the hotel, of what Emmie had said about the women who had gone missing, and the feeling of walking down the dark corridors of the hotel alone. Of Pen, lost and alone somewhere, probably hurt. She thought of Caleb, trapped here by his own anxious mind. Broken by what his mother had done. So many stories lost, steeped into the soil, into the valley’s soul. Was Caleb right? Could places hold memories? Her heartbeat quickened thinking back to the things she and Caleb had done last night. How drunk she’d been. She saw her children in the distance and felt the familiar rivulet of shame open up.
Macie was leading Sim around the garden on a small horse. The others played on the trampoline, their cries mixing with the laughter of kookaburras and the squawk of cockatoos going home to roost. Nathalie waved to her daughter, drinking in her delighted face. Whatever Macie was or wasn’t, she was certainly good with children. Nathalie wandered over to the trampoline, giving Findlay a quick hug, smoothing her wild hair from her flushed cheeks. She couldn’t think of the last time she’d brushed her girls’ hair. But it didn’t seem to matter.
‘Where’s Will?’ she asked. Findlay shrugged.
‘Do you know where Will is?’ she called to Macie.
‘He went inside for a drink.’
Nathalie gave the thumbs up. ‘I’ll bring out some water for everyone. And it might be time to put on some mozzie spray.’
Nathalie poked her head into the kitchen, relieved not to find Caleb there. She knew she was going to have to see him, but her emotions were so overwhelming right now, she had no idea how she’d be around him. Alexandra and Emmie were washing up. ‘Did Will come in here for a drink?’
They shook their heads.<
br />
A sinking feeling wormed its way into her stomach. She alighted the staircase quickly, her heart beating hard in her chest now. His room was empty. She checked the shared bathrooms and the dim corridors, calling his name softly. He was probably in distress, she didn’t want to scare him.
Downstairs a movement caught her eye. She followed the dark hallway leading towards Macie’s office.
‘Will,’ she said, fright igniting her body. ‘What are you doing here?’
He was standing in front of the closed door of the office.
‘Will?’ She crouched down and put a hand on his shoulder. He flinched.
‘Are you okay, honey?’
He stood there for a moment without looking at her, without speaking. She could feel blood rushing in her ears, the thump of her racing pulse. Sim had been hiding here too. What the hell was going on with this part of the house? ‘Will. Come on, come away from here,’ she said. You’re scaring me.
She tried to steer him down the hall away from the door, but he resisted.
‘This is where she keeps leading me,’ he said.
Nathalie stiffened and she felt her mouth go dry. ‘Who?’ She fought the urge to run away and, instead, pulled Will into a hug. His skin was damp and his little arm snaked around her neck. Tears pricked her eyes. ‘Oh Will, I know you’re scared right now. Come on, come out into the light.’
‘No, please,’ he said, his eyes huge and pleading in the dark. ‘I have to wait here. I have to. This is where the lady is. I have to stay here until my mummy comes back to me.’
She found Caleb in his room, smoking a cigarette and reading a battered paperback, legs crossed on the bed. A jab of desire mixed with mild nausea. What the hell am I doing? she thought.
‘I need to get into Macie’s office,’ she said, the words rushing out, more urgent than she’d intended. She took a shaky breath. She needed him to help her, she needed to play it cooler.
Caleb put the book down, looked at her, confused. ‘What, her study? Why? It’s private, we spoke about that.’ He shifted on the bed, reached out for her. ‘I’ve been trying to get you aside all day.’
Nathalie brushed her hair from her face and allowed him to draw her to him. ‘Oh, sorry, it’s been so busy with the police here and everything that’s happened with Pen. It’s so . . . ugh, horrible. I’ve been distracted.’
‘I know. Pretty upsetting about Pen,’ he said, shaking his head and threading his fingers through hers. ‘But I can’t stop thinking about last night. When can we escape to the cave again?’
He traced her collarbone with his finger and a shiver iced through her. Her stomach turned. What the hell was she doing giving in to this? Why hadn’t she been able to see how immature he was? It was the alcohol. Emmie was right. It was clouding so much. She couldn’t see anything clearly. But she saw Will. She saw that he wasn’t pretending. Whatever he did or didn’t see in that hall, he seemed to know something the rest of them did not. And she needed to help him.
She squeezed Caleb’s hands, even though her instincts were telling her not to tempt herself, entangle herself further. She sat down on the bed, feeling his body warm against hers. ‘Caleb, you’ve lived here a long time. Have you ever felt a presence in the house? I mean, do you think it’s haunted?’
Caleb shook his head and laughed darkly. ‘Sure. I mean, sure, I do ghost tours of the mines. The face in the window that Emmie’s picture captured . . . and this house is crazy old. I’ve had some weird experiences. Objects moving places when they shouldn’t have, cold air brushing past, the sound of footsteps, but I’ve never actually seen a ghost, if that’s what you mean.’
He looked at her with a puzzled expression on his face. ‘Where’s all this coming from? Is this to do with wanting to go into Macie’s office?’
Nathalie desperately wished she had wine right now, to take the edge off, to soften everything out. She realised she’d been viewing the majority of her life through a camera lens slightly out of focus. The hard, sharp edges soothed away.
‘Will, Pen’s little boy. I found him standing outside Macie’s office, staring at the door. In the dark. And I asked him why he was there, I mean, he’s standing by himself in the dark hall and he says that the lady’s standing there, so he has to.’
Caleb’s face darkened.
‘He was almost in a trance. But I’m going to assume it’s stress at his mum being gone rather than the ghost of the woman he keeps seeing around the hotel. God, I can’t even . . . It’s so freaky. I don’t even believe in ghosts. Can I have a puff? No, I shouldn’t. No, ignore me.’
Caleb handed her the cigarette and she drew the smoke deep into her lungs, the pelt of relief settling her nerves.
‘Look, I’ve grown up here and I’ve never seen the ghost of a woman in this place. I’m sure he’s under huge stress ’cause his mum’s gone missing. I mean, that’s pretty upsetting for the little guy. And Macie said he doesn’t have a dad.’
‘But you’ve never felt, I don’t know, a bit spooked by the valley, the hotel? All the history here. The stuff you’ve told me about the spirits in this valley? The massacres?’
Caleb stubbed his cigarette out in an ashtray shaped like a top hat and got up, took a swig from a bottle of Coke. ‘I think you’re freaking out because of Pen disappearing. And so is Will. She’ll probably be back. Most missing people are found. You’ll probably find she left of her own accord. Mental stuff usually.’
A surge of defiance rose through her. ‘Yeah no, that’s where you’re wrong. You’re not a mother so . . . Women don’t just up and leave their kids.’ She saw Caleb’s face cloud with pain and realised what she’d just said. She touched his arm. ‘Caleb, I’m sorry. I didn’t think–’
‘You think I haven’t Googled women who abandon their children? Ha.’ He hung his head.
Suddenly the room felt very small. She needed to get out of here. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to open that up for you. Of course. God. It’s just that I’m trying to help a little boy–’
‘And you think that somehow getting into Macie’s office is going to help?’
She could tell by his tone that Caleb wasn’t going to help her. His loyalty was with Macie. Of course it was. She’d been naïve to come to him. ‘I have no idea,’ she said. But I’m going to find out, she thought.
CHAPTER 37
Emmie
Heat shimmered across the shoulders of the valley and the sun bore down relentlessly. The buzz of insects thrummed in the hot air, but the birds had grown silent. The trees in the distance trembled as though lit by invisible flames. The landscape felt oppressive, as though a blanket had been thrown over it. Emmie could hardly breathe. All she could think about was how Pen would be coping out there somewhere in the bush. Was she in pain? Was she scared? Why hadn’t they found her yet? She’d been gone through the cold night and now another searing day. She hoped Pen had taken her things with her. That she was prepared and had water and clothes. They’d searched her room and car after the police left yesterday and found her camera was also gone. Maybe she’d just gone on a whim to take some photos in the bush. A little solo expedition with a bag. She was intrepid. A photojournalist, used to carrying heavy stuff. But Emmie knew it couldn’t be the case that she’d packed a bag and left without planning to return. It just couldn’t be that you left Will.
Emmie sifted through her memories of chats with Pen over takeaway coffees, while waiting for their kids at school. There had never been any talk of mental health struggles, depression. But then Emmie had never confided in Pen about her own fertility struggles, her own sadness, not like she had to Nathalie. How much did any of us really know about the inner lives of others? Nathalie was proof that even the most luminous looking life could be an illusion.
The children’s cries pierced the still, stifling air. The heat had driven them into the pool and while it felt wrong for them to be swimming while a search party was being orchestrated from the hotel car park, it was some semblance of normality
and relief for poor Will, who had tossed and turned all night and awoken in tears. She had held his little body tight and tried not to let her own tears touch his skin. Now, he was floating on a giant round doughnut, his little face smooth, free of pain. The sight calmed her. The pool was like something out of a 1970s Florida road trip, with palm trees, otherworldly blue water, and vintage-style plastic sun lounges that stuck to the backs of your legs. Macie had brought the kids juice and sandwiches, which they’d devoured before jumping back in. It all felt surreal. Like an awful mirage.
They’d spent the morning at the police station, and then driving around the valley until the roads ran out. Volunteer firefighters from the local area were combing through paddocks, and into the deep bush that crept up the valley walls.
She’d been able to check on her Instagram feed when they were at the station. Her viral post of the woman in the window had become news twice-over now, with the new point of Penelope Hardy’s disappearance in the valley. People had shared the image of Pen from the missing person poster. The police had asked for a picture and Emmie had sent them her Facebook page profile picture. She couldn’t believe her friend had become one of those smiling, lost, ubiquitous faces that filled the news. She had become the sum total of one single moment in her life.
Emmie had finally been able to get hold of Pen’s daughter, Cate, and her father. Cate had wanted to come, but Emmie had said no and promised she’d keep her up to date every few hours. The fear in the girl’s voice had made Emmie sob in the close cabin of her car.
A squabble over a beach ball interrupted her thoughts. The kids still had to be entertained. Fed. Looked after. They couldn’t expect Macie to be a babysitter. Apart from Will, the children seemed shielded from the growing gravity of the situation. The police appeared to be a source of excitement for Alexandra’s boys. Seraphine felt things so keenly that Emmie had to play things down. Make light of everything. It was exhausting keeping up a happy face.
The Valley of Lost Stories Page 24
