by J. C. Burke
Best wishes, Evie.
She seals the letter in an envelope and puts it in the bottom drawer with the exercise book.
When her parents get home, Evie’s downstairs watching TV.
‘Hi,’ they say. Her mum looks tipsy.
‘Hi,’ Evie answers. ‘Good night?’
‘Interesting.’ Robin sits on the arm of the couch.
‘Yeah? What’s Theo’s new squeeze like?’
‘Interesting,’ Robin says again.
‘Interesting? Interesting how?’ Evie laughs. ‘Tell us.’
Nick comes out from the kitchen. ‘I think what your mother means is interesting – young.’
‘Interesting young?’ Robin slips onto the couch. ‘Interesting underage, more like it!’
‘Like how young, Mum?’
‘Oh, like twenty-two, maybe.’
‘No way,’ Nick scoffs. ‘Twenty-seven up.’
‘Alex’s dad’s girlfriend is twenty-five,’ Evie reminds them.
‘Exactly.’ Robin points at Evie. ‘And that ain’t been good for Alex.’
‘But Theo doesn’t have kids.’
‘Still. We fifty-year-old women don’t want to have dinner with twenty-five year old women. Unless,’ she chuckles, ‘unless there’s very soft lighting.’
‘See! So it’s you, Mum, who doesn’t like it.’
‘That’s right.’ Robin burps. ‘’Scuse me. I’m off to bed.’
She takes the stairs very carefully. Evie and Nick watch her.
‘She’s had a few.’
‘I think it all got a bit much for her,’ Nick laughs. ‘The other thing she didn’t mention is that Trixie – I mean, Tracey – is also a bikini model.’
Evie starts laughing. ‘Theo with a … model?’
‘The women have always liked Theo,’ Nick says. ‘He’s dark, rugged, exotic –’
‘Smelly!’
‘Some girls go for the aftershave.’
‘Don’t ever put Mum and me in that category, Dad! Ever!’
‘Pew!’ Robin calls from upstairs. ‘Phoar!’
‘What?’
‘Either Evie’s been having a fight with the perfume or Theo’s stinking cologne’s stuck to me.’ They hear her laughing down the hall. ‘I’m having a shower. Pew!’
‘See,’ Evie nods. ‘Told you so.’
‘Well, just because the women in my life …’
But now Evie smells it too. It’s not Theo’s cologne.
Evie jumps off the couch. ‘Well, I’m off to bed.’ She pecks Nick on the cheek. He’s still mid-sentence.
‘Oh? Okay. Sorry I’m so boring,’ he mutters. ‘I’ll have a hot chocolate on my own then.’
Evie is cautious not to take the stairs too quickly. Inside, a voice is screaming ‘Run, run’, but her head is saying, ‘Keep calm. Act like nothing’s wrong.’
Down the hall, Evie hears the shower running. She slips into her room and shuts the door.
‘Ooh!’ Evie throws her hand over her face. The scent is overwhelming. Caz is everywhere. She pulls up the blind and opens the window. Frantically, she fans the air with a magazine. ‘Caz, what are you doing?’ she mutters. ‘If you don’t want adults to know then don’t turn up like this when my oldies are around. You’re making it very hard for me. I know my dad already suspects. You can’t do this. I’ll … I’ll …’ Evie grabs her dressing gown, rolls it up and shoves it against the bottom of the bedroom door. ‘I’ll get caught. I’ll get caught and then they’ll know and then I won’t be able to help you. Please, please, Caz. Don’t … complicate things. God, as if they’re not complicated enough!’
The air is getting thicker, the perfume stronger with each breath Evie takes.
‘You can’t do this, Caz. You gave me what I needed. If you don’t want any adults to know then you have to go. Okay? You have to go now. Goodb –,’ she gasps. ‘Oh no! No! I didn’t say goodbye.’
Evie rummages through her drawers for the lighter. She can’t remember where she put it. She delves under the bed, her hand flapping around for the candles and board. She drags the stuff out, checking the door every second.
Her hand trembles as she lights the candles and sets up the board again. It’s got to be done quickly. No time – not with her parents awake and walking.
‘I ask the spirits, um … to … um.’ She’s not sure what she’s meant to say in this situation. ‘I ask the spirits to allow me to say goodbye to them and … and close this meeting. Please. Um, goodbye.’
Evie places her finger on the planchette and slides it towards the ‘GOODBYE’, but something pushes against her.
‘Goodbye,’ Evie says firmly, but again she is unable to reach the word.
She takes a deep breath and glances at the door. The shower’s still running.
‘Tha-a-a-nk you t-to the spirits f-for allowing m-me to speak to their sister Caz.’ Evie can hear her voice shake. ‘And n-now it’s time to go b-back to your side. It’s time to say …’ The nail bed on Evie’s finger is purple as she tries to push the pointer across the board. ‘It’s time to go. Goodbye.’ But it won’t budge.
‘Oh god.’ Evie covers her mouth. ‘Please, Caz. Please go.’
The planchette flies out from under Evie’s finger landing on the word ‘NO’.
‘No?’ Evie feels her heart leap into her throat. ‘No?’ She can barely speak. Her hand fumbles in the bottom drawer of her desk. ‘What … do … you want to … tell me, then?’
Evie places her finger back on the needle, balances the book on her knee and waits for the message. Caz wastes no time. Straight down to the letter N the pointer slides. ‘N-A-I-LS-A-S-L-E-E-P-S-C-R-A-T-C-H-E-S-A-R-M-P-I-T-S-P-A-N-T-S-T-O-R-N-H-A-N-D-S-S-C-O-L-D-I-C-E.’ Evie scribbles down each letter. ‘A-S-K-N-O-R-A-A-S-K-H-E-RS-E-C-R-E-T-S-T-R-U-E-P-A-R-I-S-I-D-E-N-T-I-T-YC-U-R-V-A.’ Faster, the needle moves. ‘C-U-R-V-A-C-U-R-V-A-C-U-R-V-A-C-U-R-V-A …’ Evie can no longer write. Her arm swings furiously around the board, hitting the same letters over and over. ‘CURVACURVACURVACURVA.’
Evie can almost hear Caz’s voice growling in the air. ‘CURVACURVACURVA.’
Evie is gasping. ‘Go, go. Go in peace, Caz.’
She pushes the needle to ‘GOODBYE’, just as she hears his footsteps up the stairs. ‘Goodbye, Caz,’ – he treads down the hall – ‘goodbye’ – he stops outside her room. Evie sweeps the board under the bed and grabs her dressing gown from the floor. The handle is turning. It’s too late to blow out the candles. The door is opening.
‘Evie?’
‘Dad!’
He looks around the room. ‘Oh? I, I thought you were talking to …’ His eyes land on the candles. ‘Candles?’ he says.
‘I, um, was going to have a bit of a relaxation …’
He closes the door. ‘Evie?’
‘Yeah?’
‘What’s going on?’
‘I was just going to –’
‘Were you doing a séance?’
‘No! Um, yes.’
Her father sits at her desk. He picks up a stick of glue, rolling it around in his palm, his ring clicking on the plastic. This is what Evie can’t stand. Silence. His silence.
‘Dad?’ she swallows. ‘Dad, say something.’
He looks at her. He raises his shoulders.
‘I didn’t want to … worry you. I mean I just –’
‘What’s the point of making a deal if one person doesn’t stick to it?’ he says to her. ‘Eh?’
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispers.
‘So this business has been going on.’
Evie nods.
‘I thought as much.’ He puts the glue back on the desk. ‘You’ve had a distracted air about you, but I was hoping you’d tell me. You forget I know a bit about this. I grew up with it, remember?’
‘So you should know this sort of stuff isn’t for everyone to know about. It’s just the way it is!’
‘True,’ he answers. ‘But we made a deal, Evie. A deal where you agreed you’d tell us if anyt
hing was going on.’
Evie sighs. ‘How do I even begin to tell you this stuff, Dad? Let alone Mum. She’d freak.’
‘That’s not giving her a fair go. She was part of the deal too.’
‘Well, tell me what to say then, Dad?’ Evie snaps. She can’t help it. ‘Guess what, Mum and Dad; there’s another dead girl trying to –’
‘Okay, okay, Evie!’
‘It’s not like I want this. I don’t have a choice. That night Victoria came over, I realised that. Do you know what that’s like?’
‘I’m trying to understand it. But if you don’t tell me it makes it hard. In Adelaide we –’
‘Look, Dad, Adelaide was different. Completely different. I didn’t understand anything about it. I mean, I didn’t even know then that I was … you know.’
‘Special.’
‘Special! I hate that word! A few months ago you and Mum didn’t even want me to know I was … special. And now, now all of a sudden, you expect me just to forget and tell everyone!’
‘That’s not fair.’
‘Tell me about it, Dad!’
He shrugs and turns away. ‘We have to be responsible, Evie. We’re your parents. I know we got off to a bad start but we’re trying to make it better for you.’
‘There’s nothing to tell, anyway, Dad.’ It’s a half truth, Evie knows, but she can take it no further. ‘All I have is a pile of jumbled messages. That’s all. I was just seeing if there was anything else I could find out.’ Evie glances at him. So … so are you going to … tell Mum?’
‘I won’t tell her; not at the moment. That’s if you promise me one thing.’ His eyebrows are raised and his forehead crinkled. ‘If, for whatever reason, you can’t tell me what’s going on then I want you to tell Victoria. Understood?’
‘Yes.’ This is better than Evie expected.
‘In fact, I want you to go and see her tomorrow. No arguments about it,’ he tells her. ‘She’s very experienced. She knows how to handle this sort of thing. You still don’t. And I can say that even if I’m not like you.’
Evie nods.
‘No meeting anyone or doing anything risky without consulting her, ’cause that’s not fair to us.’
‘I’ll see her tomorrow, Dad,’ Evie says. ‘I’ll tell her everything.’
He takes her hand and squeezes it. ‘We just want you to be safe, Evie. Safe and happy.’
Patiently, Evie lies in bed, listening to her father’s footsteps pace the floor downstairs. She struggles to keep her eyes open but she must wait. Wait till it’s safe. It’s too risky to look at the messages until he’s in bed and snoring.
The shadow from the hall light flickers against her blind. Evie watches it carefully, almost too afraid to breathe. She hugs her pillow and hopes tonight, in her room, she will be alone.
At last his footsteps climb the stairs and walk along the hall. He pushes her door, the warmth of lamplight floods into the room. Evie clamps her eyes tight, aware of him standing there watching her, his love flooding the room. If she could move her arm, she could almost touch it, thick in the air. And beyond, on the fringes, hangs his guilt. Guilt for passing something on to her. Something he can’t protect her from. Herself. Her gift. It aches at her heart, his guilt. She feels it deep inside her chest, but still she keeps her eyes shut.
Gently, he closes the door. The light disappears with the click of the lamp and to his room his footsteps pad.
Finally, her parents snore in unison. Evie creeps to her desk and takes the exercise book back to bed. She smooths the creases from the page she last wrote on. At last, she can read the message properly.
‘Nails-Asleep-Scratches-Armpits-Pants-Torn-Hands-Cold-Ice.’ Evie whispers each word. Her eyes run along the next row. ‘Ask-Nora-Ask-Her-Secrets-True-Paris-Identity-CurvaCurva-Curva.’
‘Curva?’ Evie frowns. ‘Curva?’
Flipping to the beginning, Evie goes over Caz’s words, one by one.
‘Look the door-Scared-Paris talk-I need assistance and help.’
Evie turns the page. ‘Say to her-andraannca Cosmin Petar Irina Nistor.’ She then goes back to the last one. ‘Nails-Asleep-Scratches-Armpits-Pants-Torn-Hands-Cold-Ice. Ask-Nora-Ask-Her-Secrets-True-Paris-Identity-Curva-Curva-Curva.’
‘There must be something in this?’ Evie stares at the rows of words. ‘But what? What am I missing? Is she telling me to go to Nora again? Will Caz speak to me with Nora there?’ The questions circle around and around in her head until she can think no more.
Where’s Mum?’
‘She’s having a bit of a lie-in,’ Nick answers.
Evie looks at the clock in the kitchen. It’s almost eleven.
‘Is she … hung over?’
‘She’s a bit worse for wear.’
Saturday’s papers are spread over the kitchen table.
‘Dad, why do you always read Saturday’s papers on Sunday?’
‘Because Sunday papers are crap. Is that a good enough answer?’ He folds up one section and begins to open another. ‘Now, while your mother’s still in bed, I’ll take this chance to say I hope you’re thinking about what we discussed last night. I’m deadly serious.’
‘I’ve already called Victoria,’ Evie tells him. ‘I’m going over there today.’
‘Good. I’ll drive you.’
‘It’s okay.’ Evie is prepared for this. ‘I’m meeting Alex for a coffee first, so I’ll get the bus.’
He peers over the paper. ‘Where are you going for coffee?’
‘Broadway.’ Evie takes her mug to the sink. The eye contact is killing her. ‘There’s a new gelato bar there.’
‘Oh yeah, I’ve seen it.’ He clears his throat. ‘What time are you meeting?’
‘Um, around lunch, I think.’
When the phone rings, Evie grabs it.
‘Hello?’
‘Hi, it’s me,’ Alex says.
Evie’s heart starts racing. ‘Hi, me.’
‘You want to do something this arvo? Zac has his soccer presentation.’
‘Yeah, what time did you say?’
‘I didn’t,’ Alex answers. ‘Just this arvo. I don’t know, any time.’
‘Twelve’s good.’ Evie wishes she could rip the phone off the wall and take it to another room. ‘Yeah.’
‘Twelve? That’s in an hour.’
‘Great!’
‘What are you …? Is your mum hanging around or something? What’s –?’
‘No, it’s okay. I’ll meet you at your place.’
‘Oh? So you’re going to be here at twelve?’
‘Yep.’
‘You’re being weird but I’ll see you then.’
Evie places the handset back on the wall. ‘I guess I’d better have a shower.’
‘I’ll drop you at Al’s,’ Nick tells her. ‘Is she going to Victoria’s with you?’
‘Course not,’ Evie answers backing out of the kitchen. ‘I’m going there afterwards. Alone.’
The girls sit outside at Pappa Reggio’s new gelato bar. Evie is quick to grab the seat that faces the other side of the road.
‘Oh, you got the good perving spot,’ Alex whines.
‘Huh?’ Evie pretends not to notice.
‘How come you so wanted to come here?’ Alex asks. ‘I told you the old one in Leichhardt’s way better.’
‘Oh?’ Evie feigns interest. ‘Didn’t you say this was really good when you came here with Zac?’ Evie positions her chair so she can see the entrance to the Venus Cuza College. ‘Or does everything seem good with Zac?’
‘Nooo.’ Alex shakes her head then giggles. ‘Well, yes. But the old one is better. Heaps better. Here they only have about five flavours. The old Pappa’s has about five … hundred. Anyway, you probably noticed I just ordered a coffee. I’ve lost two kilos.’
‘You look fine the way you are, Al.’ She pours Alex a glass of water. ‘So, how are you and Zac going?’
‘Grrreat,’ she croons. ‘He’s soooo nice. He says at the end of the
year he’s going to take me out for dinner at The Rocks. Just the two of us.’
‘Yeah?’ There’s a light on upstairs. Evie watches it as Alex talks.
‘You coming to Luna Park next weekend?’
The waiter brings out their order.
‘Yeah.’ Evie thinks she can see someone standing by the window. ‘Probably.’
‘Great! I’ll tell Zac. He was going to invite his mate Anton. He’s really cute. You’ll really like him. He was at Nathan’s party. Remember the tall one with the blond hair? He’s in Seb’s band; plays the drums, I think. He was talking heaps to you that night. Zac reckons if he knows you’re coming he’ll –’ Alex turns around. ‘What are you staring at, Evie?’
‘Eh? Oh, nothing.’
Alex pours a sugar into her coffee and stirs. ‘Imagine if you and Anton got together. You’d be such a gorgeous couple. Imagine your little blond babies! How cute would they be?’
Evie’s almost positive there is someone standing at the window. Whoever it is looks small enough to be Paris.
‘So will I tell Zac to ask him on Saturday night?’
Evie puts her hand in her jacket. Her fingers touch the corner of the envelope.
‘Will I, Evie?’
Evie looks at Alex. ‘Um, whatever.’
‘Evie, you’ll love him! I’m so excited I think I’m going to pee.’ Alex takes a sip of coffee. ‘Hang on, I’m just going to the loo. I wish I could ring Zac now but I left my stupid mobile at home. Love is in the a-air.’
It’s a second before Evie even realises Alex has left the table.
She glances around her. Everyone’s busy licking their cones and sipping their lattes. No one’s watching her. Evie slides out of her chair then dashes across the road.
The light is still on upstairs. Evie pushes the glass door but it’s locked.
‘Shit! Shit!’ She takes the letter out of her pocket, slips it under the door and races back across the road. A car swerves around her. ‘Idiot!’ the driver yells.
Her knees almost give way as she collapses back in the chair. In one breath she sculls her glass of water, keeping an eye on the door across the road.
Alex comes back from the toilet. Evie smiles at her. Her heart’s beating so fast she’s sure it’s popping through her top. She crosses her arms and smiles. ‘Hey, Al, did you hand in your art essay?’ She’s getting good at this deception game.
