The Red Cardigan

by J. C. Burke

  ‘How? But when did this happen? Shit! Yes, okay. We’re at the airport. Yes. Yes.’

  ‘Who was that?’ Theo asks.

  ‘Vic.’

  ‘What did he want?’ Theo snarls.

  ‘Evie?’

  ‘Yes, Dad.’

  ‘They’ve found some evidence.’

  ‘You’re kidding!’ shouts Theo, scrunching up the newspaper.

  ‘Vic went back on his way home from work,’ he tells them. ‘Something made him want to look around those pine trees. He said it was pretty late but he had a torch. He scratched about in the dirt, gave the trees a shake and bingo, a nest fell out.’

  ‘What sort of nest?’

  ‘A bloody bird’s nest, Theo.’ Nick shakes his head. ‘He was going to his daughter’s for dinner, so he took it to show his grandson. He had a bit to drink and ended up staying the night. This morning Vic and his grandson were having a look at the nest when the kid pulls something out from the very bottom of it.’

  ‘And?’ Theo says.

  ‘It was a piece of red silk with gold and black threads. It’s from the jacket Athena wore that night.’

  Theo snaps his fingers. ‘The jacket from Evie’s dream!’

  ‘Vic said it was amazing seeing the nest was so small.’

  ‘Vic thought that was the amazing bit?’

  ‘They’re sending a patrol car, Evie.’

  ‘I know.’

  The road is taped off. Twenty to thirty police in dark-blue overalls comb the area. Some are looking in the carpark, some dig in the grass along the fence and where the four pine trees stand. A smaller group stand at the bottom of the tower stairs. They look like they’re being given instructions. Vic is smoking and talking to a man with ‘FORENSIC’ written on the back of his coat. Rory can’t stop showing his perfect teeth.

  Athena’s uncle and father stand alone at the end of the road. Evie doesn’t know what she’s going to say to them. There are no words for this.

  ‘Here,’ she says, pulling the red cardigan out of her bag.

  Mr Poulos’s hand trembles as he takes it from her.

  ‘Thank you,’ he chokes.

  ‘No. Thank you,’ she whispers and goes back to her father.

  The men in blue overalls climb to the top of the silo tower. Their boots clang on each step. When they reach the top they talk for a while, then two of the men pull at the handle of the door. It groans as they slide it open. They disappear inside.

  Theo cups his hands around her shoulders and squeezes them.

  The mobile is pressed to Nick’s ear. ‘They’re in there now. I’ll call back as soon as we know something.’ He shakes his head over and over. ‘No, Robin, no cameras, no journos. It’s only us and the police. I know. I know. I’ll tell her. Yes, I’ll tell her.’

  ‘Mum?’

  ‘Yeah. She’s in a bit of a state.’

  ‘She feels far way,’ Evie says, sinking back into her father’s chest. He wraps his arms around her, holding her tight. Through her spine she feels his heart beating.

  ‘Our wise, strong, precious girl,’ he whispers. The words land on her skin. ‘You believed in yourself, Evie. When there was doubt everywhere you held on. You’ve handled this with such dignity and, as your mum just said, that’s about as proud as a parent can get.’ She breathes them in.

  They wait and watch the entrance to the tower. Finally a police officer emerges from the doorway. He looks over at Vic and puts his thumb up. Vic nods. ‘They’ve found her.’

  Evie touches her throat. It feels soft. She swallows and the saliva slips gently down. She closes her eyes, the burden lifting from her body. And in the distance she hears the words:

  Like one, that on a lonesome road

  Doth walk in fear and dread,

  And having once turned round walks on,

  And turns no more his head.

  ‘Thank you,’ she says.

  There are reports to fill in and statements to sign. Police headquarters is a buzz of handshakes and backslapping. Men and women in uniform and plain clothes echo their congratulations through the corridors. ‘Well done, Vic’, ‘On ya, Van de Meer’. Occasionally they steal a glance at Evie.

  And Evie watches them. She doesn’t share their feelings. She feels sad. Sad for Athena’s parents, sad for Melena and sad for the uncle, Con Poulos, who gently led the grieving father away. Evie can still see the way his shoulders slumped and his back trembled with the realisation that their search and hope for Athena, their firstborn, was over.

  Theo takes the seat next to Evie. She covers her nose. He must’ve just slapped on more aftershave.

  ‘Well, we got on another flight.’

  ‘Hmm?’

  ‘We got on a flight. Ten past four.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘You okay?’

  ‘I will be,’ answers Evie. ‘As soon as I get out of here.’

  ‘They see it differently to us.’

  ‘How can they?’

  ‘Well, be grateful you’re still classified a juvenile or we’d be stuck here for days.’

  ‘So there is something good about being underage,’ Evie groans. ‘Remind me to tell Alex that.’

  ‘You’re looking forward to seeing her, hey?’

  ‘Yeah. Big time.’

  ‘Apparently they’re releasing a media statement at four-thirty. We’ll be safely in the sky. That’s why your dad’s taking so long. He’s going over it for the one thousandth time to check there’s no mention of you, or your mother will eat him for breakfast.’

  Evie frowns.

  ‘Don’t worry. There isn’t.’

  ‘Poor Mum and Dad. What a thing I’ve put them through.’

  ‘Hey, they’re really proud of you, girl.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘And just between you and me, your grandma would be, too.’

  Once more Evie fastens her belt and grips the seat as the plane bumps and lifts through the cloud cover. She gazes out at the sky, blue and endless, almost expecting to see Athena fly past and wave like something out of The Wizard of Oz. She giggles just for that second. She knows Athena is with her family at last.

  Theo and Nick are two seats in front. Theo’s aftershave wafts through the cabin. He must be snoring, as every now and then Nick looks over and nudges him.

  Evie takes out her sketchpad and reads the last entry, thinking how long ago it seems she wrote those words and how far she has come since then.

  Opening a fresh page and smoothing down the surface Evie writes:

  Friday 7 July.

  Dear Athena,

  I’m on my way home and so are you.

  Well, we both managed to stick to the deal. In the last seven days I have learnt more about myself than in the sixteen and a half years I’ve been alive. If it wasn’t for you finding me or the red cardigan finding Dad, whichever way you look at it, I’d still be trapped inside my old self. Now it’s like I’ve met my real self. I’m trying on my new skin and it fits. Fits pretty well, too! Thank you for helping me find it and thank you for comforting me yesterday. I could feel your calm energy around me. I still can.

  I understand I’ll always feel different but that’s okay. I am, and maybe I like feeling that way. Maybe I don’t want to be like everyone else, even though I used to think I did.

  I’m like Grandma and everybody loved her and as Dad says they thought she was special and she was. She wasn’t bad or weird – she was just normal. Maybe that’s another reason I don’t feel scared any more.

  It’s weird. I don’t feel scared about going back to school. I don’t feel scared about facing Powell or any of those girls. There’s nothing special about them. I feel a bit nervous about seeing Seb (haven’t decided if I’m going to tell Alex) but I think those nerves might be butterflies, if you know what I mean. And I think I’m even brave enough to continue with my drawing elective. I said ‘I think’!

  I might be going off a bit early, so much is buzzing through my head. I mean, who’s to s
ay I’ll never be scared again but at least it’ll be about what’s out there, not what’s in here, in me. So thank you. Hey, it’s pretty cool talking to you.

  I know things will be better at home. It’ll take a while but at least we’re all honest now and that’ll make a big difference, not just to me and Mum but to Mum and Dad, too. So that’s got to be a good thing.

  The food’s coming down the aisle and I’m starving. Dad keeps looking around. I just gave him a little wave but I better go.

  And if I had to go through it all again to get to this (if there really wasn’t an easier way, that is), would I?, Yes, I’d go through it all again. I think!

  Forever, Evie x

  Acknowledgements

  Senior Constable Denis Blowes from the South Australian Police

  Con Bourliofas

  David Burke

  Margaret Burke

  Eva Mills, Commissioning Editor, Random House

  Catherine Steuart

  Tara Wynne, Curtis Brown Australia

  Josie, clairvoyant, formerly of Bayview, NSW

  And as always Victoria, Nicholas and Michael

  About the author

  J. C. Burke was born in Sydney in 1965, the fourth of five daughters. With writers for parents, she grew up in a world full of noise, drama and books, and the many colourful characters who came to visit provided her with an endless supply of stories and impersonations.

  Burke decided to become a nurse after her mother lost a long battle with cancer. She trained at Royal Prince Alfred Hospital in Sydney and later specialised in the field of Oncology, working in Haematology and Bone Marrow Transplant Units in Australia and the UK. A creative writing course at Sydney University led to a mentorship with Gary Crew and the publication in 2002 of her first novel, White Lies (Lothian), a CBC Notable Book.

  J. C. Burke lives on Sydney’s Northern Beaches with her husband and two children. She does a lot of yoga and a bit of nursing. She loves writing for children and young adults, as they still have an optimistic eye on the world.

  Nine Letters Long

  Don’t miss the thrilling sequel to The Red Cardigan …

  Evie has a gift – a gift she’s not always comfortable with. But when Poppy suggests they conduct a séance, Evie reluctantly agrees. The letters on the board start spelling out one name – C-A-Z – over and over, and Evie knows she’s been contacted again. A cryptic message leads Evie to a family where two sisters, one living, one dead, share a dark secret that must be revealed. But is Evie strong enough to solve the mystery and reveal the truth in time to release both girls?