Missing You, Love Sara

by Jackie French

  And they all put the scar over Reenie’s disappearance. The hurt’s still there. I just don’t notice it all the time now.

  CHAPTER 56

  Last year

  This happened just last year.

  I was doing my history assignment (all about the Munich Agreement) so I wasn’t really in the kitchen at all, with the lino that’s so worn you can hardly even see the pattern any more and the pressed metal ceiling that Miss Marlatti says is really old and interesting above me. I was back before World War Two, with Hitler screaming and all these crowds screaming back … when the phone rang.

  It was Mum and she was crying.

  ‘Sara, it’s me.’ It had been ages since I’d heard her cry.

  ‘Mum, what is it? What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing’s wrong. I don’t know. I’m being silly.’

  ‘Mum, it’s okay. Just tell me what happened?’

  ‘Reenie’s friend Helen rang up. Do you remember Helen?’

  I did vaguely. She’d been through school with Reenie, but she’d gone up to uni at Lismore while Reenie had stayed working here for a year.

  ‘What did she want?’ I asked.

  Mum made an effort to control her voice. ‘She said she’d heard about Reenie, of course, way back when it happened. She said she wanted to ring then, but she didn’t know what to say.’

  ‘Why did she ring now then?’ I asked.

  ‘She had this dream.’ Mum was almost whispering. ‘She heard Reenie say, “It’s all right, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m happy now. I’m at peace.” And Helen said, “Where are you, Reenie? What happened to you?” because she said the dream sounded so real, that it really was Reenie’s voice.

  ‘And Reenie said, “I can’t tell you that. It’s complicated. But you’ll all know what happened one day. It’ll just take a while, that’s all.”

  ‘Helen said it was so real she just had to ring me, to tell me. Sara, don’t you remember? It was just what that clairvoyant said!’

  ‘Mum …’ I didn’t know how to put it without hurting her. ‘Of course that’s what the clairvoyant said. That’s what they all say. That they’re happy and that they’re at peace. And we know that we won’t find out what’s happened for a long time. It’s already been a long time, Mum.’

  We won’t know anything until Reenie’s body is found, I thought to myself, or till someone confesses, not unless Reenie really is still alive somehow and lets us know.

  But I didn’t say that to Mum.

  ‘You don’t think I should make too much of it then?’ Mum’s voice was sort of pleading.

  ‘Mum … I think Helen’s subconscious was just saying what we all know, that’s all. Reenie is at peace now.’

  There was a pause. I could hear Mum breathing on the other end of the phone. ‘Do you think she’s dead, Sara?’

  It was the first time she’d ever asked me that, in so many words.

  ‘Yes, Mum,’ I said.

  It was the first time I’d ever said that too. ‘I think if she were still alive she’d have let us know, somehow. Reenie was too … too kind, not to do that.’

  Another silence. ‘Thank you, darling,’ said Mum at last. ‘It was … nice … of Helen to call though.’

  ‘Yes. It was nice,’ I said.

  ‘I’ll see you tomorrow then, won’t I?’ said Mum.

  ‘See you tomorrow, Mum,’ I said. I put the receiver down.

  That was the last time we had any news at all of Reenie.

  CHAPTER 57

  Always

  Not really the last, of course.

  For the rest of my life, whenever I am in a crowd I will be listening for her voice. I’ve heard it lots of times in the past few years, somewhere across the room. It sounds like hers at first, but when I search for her, it’s not hers at all.

  I’ll see her face, a glimpse of her profile or a certain way blonde hair will fall. But when I make my way across the cinema or into the newsagency to see the face more clearly, of course she’s never there.

  Scars fade, but they still hurt.

  Dad doesn’t say anything—or Mum either—but I know they must search among the shadow faces too. All my life, wherever I am, I’ll wonder if Reenie may be just around the corner. If I just walk a little further, she might be there.

  Any day now, I might turn on the news, and they’ll have discovered her body.

  Scars may not hurt so much after a while. But you know they’re there.

  CHAPTER 58

  There has to be an answer of course, even though sometimes it seems like there just isn’t one.

  Something happened to Reenie. It’s in the past, it can’t be changed.

  The answer must be out there somewhere, even if we never know what it is.

  CHAPTER 59

  Letter to Reenie, October

  Dear Reenie,

  It’s been nearly four years now since you went away.

  Went away? Left us? Was taken?

  I do my HSC next month. I’m nervous but not scared, if you know what I mean. I think I’ll do okay. Better than you did, but that doesn’t matter so much now.

  I wouldn’t mind going overseas and working for a year before I go to uni, but I haven’t even mentioned the idea to Mum or Dad. They still need to be able to check on me, to make sure I’m really here, and at least at uni I can come back most weekends.

  Di’s going to do Coastal Ecology. I’d like to study Vet Science, but that’s really hard to get into. So I’m thinking now about Zoology instead. Insects, maybe. Entomology. Do you remember when I had that spider collection when I was small? Only two of them in a bottle, because Mum found out and freaked. Spiders aren’t insects of course, they’re arachnids, but they’re pretty interesting.

  I asked Dad if he remembered my spider collection but he doesn’t, and Mum doesn’t either, even though she screamed and made me put the bottle in three garbage bags and seal them tight and then put them in the bin. You’d have remembered, but you’re not here, so I can’t laugh about it with you.

  Some time in the past year I’ve stopped hating you, Reenie. I didn’t even know I did until you left.

  I always knew I loved you, in an in-the-background sort of way, but I didn’t know how much till lately. I hate the thought of all those years of memories that we’ll never get to share, of the times to come we’ll never have.

  Dad’s going out with Miss Marlatti. When I say ‘going out with’ I really mean he goes up to her place. I guess he thinks I’m too impressionable to bring her here. I bet as soon as I finish my HSC they’ll announce they’re going to get married—I think they’re leaving it till then so as not to upset me at an important time, etcetera.

  But I’m not worried about it.

  It sort of makes things easier for me, because I’d worry about Dad here all alone and I like Miss Marlatti … Sonia. I have to get used to calling her that. I really do like her. It’s as though one day we might be friends.

  Mum starred in ‘The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie’ last month. She was good, like she always is. She’s all right, as long as she keeps busy. It’s when school’s on holiday and she isn’t organising theatre stuff that she gets depressed.

  I think Christmas is going to be hard again. Dad will be with Miss Marlatti, Sonia, I mean, so maybe this year I’ll spend the day with Mum.

  Do you remember what spring is like on the farm? It’s been a dry spring. We’re down to four rungs in the house tank and Dad’s started to cart hay for the stock.

  He’s got Billy Blackstone working for him three days a week now—Johnnie’s younger brother. I don’t know if Dad did that on purpose, to try to get things back to some sort of normality between us and the Blackstones. I’ve never felt that I could ask.

  I didn’t think the Blackstones would ever talk to us again, but everything’s okay now, except with Mrs Blackstone. She still avoids speaking to me or Dad. If Dad rings and she answers the phone, she doesn’t say, ‘How are you?’, or ‘How much rain
did you get?’. Just, ‘I’ll put Billy on for you,’ and that’s that. But Mr Blackstone’s all right.

  I’m going to miss this place next year. But I really want to get my degree and then we’ll see.

  I can’t imagine living anywhere but here, but if there’s one thing I’ve learnt over the past few years it’s that people change. I’m going to change too. Maybe I’ll want to come back here more than ever in a few years time, but whatever happens, I won’t be the same me.

  It’s going to be strange living in the same city as Tom. He graduates at the end of this year, but he thinks he should be able to get a job in Sydney.

  He kissed me for the first time last holidays. Well, more than kissed me, actually. In one way we’re like old friends and in another way everything’s new, so it’s going to be interesting to see what happens now. What would you have thought of me and Tom, Reenie? I’ll never know.

  I miss you, Reenie.

  I think about your face sometimes, but I can’t see it clearly any more, not like it was when you left. I can see your face that Christmas when you were eight and we chased the pig. I can see your face the day you drove off for the last time out the gate with Mum.

  I can still hear your voice though. ‘Hey, Sara,’ you used to say. No one has ever said it quite like you.

  What really terrifies me now is knowing that if you’re still alive that you’ll have changed. I mightn’t know you if I saw you now, in a crowd, in the distance, in a darkened picture theatre.

  I’d know you if you looked at me. I’d know you if you spoke. But in ten years, twenty years time …

  Even if you’re still alive, the Reenie that I knew has gone. Somehow it’s easier knowing that, even though it still makes me cry.

  I’m crying now, writing this. I’d better stop, before Dad comes in and wonders why.

  Do you remember my friend Di? She had an argument with her sister Julie yesterday. I walked in and they were screaming at each other and I wanted to yell, ‘Stop it! Stop it! It’s just not worth it! Make the most of everything while you can!’

  But I didn’t. I just stood there. Julie flounced off and I never said anything at all.

  I want to hear your voice, your real voice, not the one in my head. I want to know that you’re happy, even if I never see you again.

  I love you, Reenie.

  Sara

  Author’s Note:

  No character in this book is in any way based on any person in real life. If there is any resemblance, it is entirely accidental and beyond my control. The kindnesses and generosities in this story though, are mostly true.

  When someone disappears it leaves a wound that never really heals, because you always hope.

  If, for whatever reason, you feel that you must leave home and not tell your family where you are, or if you know anyone in that situation, there is a free police hotline you can ring: 1800 025091. You simply say who you are and that you have left of your own free will and that you are safe. No more questions will be asked and no attempt will be made to trace you. But you will no longer be ‘missing’…

  There is also another really good organisation called Kids Helpline you can ring if you want to discuss ANY problem. Just call 1800 551800. It’s free, and there is someone there to help 24 hours a day.

  And if you ever see anything—anything—that tells you someone may be in trouble, please never feel you just do not want to get involved.

  People disappear every day in Australia. One of the greatest tragedies about each mystery is the fear that to someone it might not be a mystery at all.

  About the Author

  Jackie French’s writing career spans 12 years, 36 wombats, 102 books for kids and adults, nine languages, various awards, radio shows, newspaper and magazine columns, theories of pest and weed ecology and 28 shredded back doormats. The doormats are the victims of the wombats, who require constant appeasement in the form of carrots, rolled oats and wombat nuts, which is one of the reasons for her prolific output: it pays the carrot bills.

  Her most recent awards include the 2000 Children’s book Council Book of the Year Award for Younger Readers for Hitler’s Daughter, which also won the 2002 U.K. Wow! Award for the most inspiring children’s Book of the year; the 2002 Aurealis Award for Younger Readers for Café on Callisto; the ACT Book of the Year Award for In the Blood; and the 2002 Booksellers’ Australian Book of the Year for Diary of a Wombat.

  For more on Jackie French, her wombats and her books, zap onto her website: www.jackiefrench.com or subscribe to her free monthly newsletter about her books and wombats at: www.harpercollins.com.au/jackiefrench

  Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.

  Find out lots more about Jackie French and her

  books by visiting her website at:

  www.jackiefrench.com

  Other books by Jackie French

  Fiction

  The Roo that Won the Melbourne Cup • Rain Stones

  Walking the Boundaries • The Boy Who Had Wings

  Somewhere Around the Corner

  Annie’s Pouch • Alien Games • The Secret Beach

  Mermaids • Mind’s Eye • A Wombat Named Bosco

  Summerland • Beyond the Boundaries

  The Warrior—the Story of a Wombat

  The Book of Unicorns • Dancing with Ben Hall

  Soldier on the Hill • Daughter of the Regiment

  Stories to Eat with a Banana • Tajore Arkle

  Hitler’s Daughter • In the Blood

  Stories to Eat with a Watermelon • Lady Dance

  Stories to Eat with a Blood Plum

  How the Finnegans Saved the Ship

  Dark Wind Blowing • A Story to Eat with a Mandarin

  Ride the Wild Wind • Blood Moon • The White Ship

  Wacky Families 1: My Mum the Pirate

  Wacky Families 2: My Dog the Dinosaur

  Non-fiction

  How the Aliens from Alpha Centauri Invaded My

  Maths Class and Turned Me Into a Writer …

  How to Guzzle Your Garden. Book of Challenges

  Stamp Stomp Womp & Other Interesting Ways to Kill Pests

  Seasons of Content • The Best of Jackie French

  Earthly Delights

  The Fascinating History of Your Lunch

  The Secret Life of Santa Claus

  Copyright

  Angus&Robertson

  An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers, Australia

  First published in Australia in 2000

  This edition published in 2010

  by HarperCollinsPublishers Australia Pty Limited

  ABN 36 009 913 517

  A member of the HarperCollinsPublishers (Australia) Pty Limited Group

  www.harpercollins.com.au

  Copyright © Jackie French 2000

  The right of Jackie French to be identified as the moral rights author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000 (Cth).

  This book is copyright. Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of private study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part may be reproduced by any process without written permission. Inquiries should be addressed to the publishers.

  HarperCollinsPublishers

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  2 Bloor Street East, 20th floor,Toronto, Ontario M4W 1A8, Canada

  10 East 53rd Street, New York NY 10022, USA

  National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication data:

  French, Jackie

  Missing you, love Sara / Jackie French.

  ISBN: 978-0-2071-9706-2 (pbk.)

  ISBN: 978-0-7304-9343-3 (ePub)

  I.Title.

  A823.3

 
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