Northern Heat

by Helene Young

  She saw a classmate and rolled down the window.

  ‘Laura, hi. Is Abby still around?’

  ‘No, she left earlier.’

  ‘How early?’

  ‘Maybe an hour ago? She was with Sissy.’

  ‘Right, thanks.’

  The window slid up and Kristy wiped the rain off the inside of the door.

  ‘PCYC?’ Conor suggested when they got back into the car.

  ‘I’ll call her.’ Kristy’s normally unruffled demeanour was slipping.

  The call went to message bank. ‘Abby, it’s Mum. Call me, hon.’ She tapped out a text but there was no immediate reply.

  Conor could feel the tension radiating from her.

  ‘PCYC. Let’s go.’

  The big building was a hive of activity. Bare feet or rubber thongs seemed to be the order of the day. Petra was under one of the awnings and waved when she saw Kristy’s car. Kristy pulled up in the drop-off zone. She and Conor ran across, water bouncing back up off the pavement with the force of the rain.

  ‘Have you seen Abby and or Sissy?’

  ‘Nope, but Freya was here a little while ago. I saw her with bags. I thought she was donating blankets and stuff.’

  Kristy clutched her friend’s arm. ‘Do you think, maybe?’

  ‘Shit.’ Petra pulled free and hurried off towards the staff area with Kristy close behind. Conor figured he might as well follow, but he had no idea what was going on.

  Three minutes later they were all staring at the inside of an empty locker.

  ‘Freya’s?’ Conor guessed.

  ‘Yeah,’ Petra replied. ‘She’s been stockpiling stuff for a couple of months like Kristy suggested. Had their passports, money, a different phone. Looks like she’s finally done it.’

  ‘Done what?’

  ‘Left the arsehole,’ Petra snapped.

  ‘So where’s Abby then? And Sissy?’

  Petra shook her head. ‘Abby wouldn’t go off with Freya without telling you. Come on. Let’s see if anyone else has seen her. Maybe they dropped her home on the way.’

  Kristy’s phone rang and she fumbled, almost dropping it as she dragged it out of her pocket, hurrying to keep up as Petra led them back to the sports arena.

  ‘Dad? Where are you? Really? No, no, I understand completely . . . We’ll be fine . . . Nothing you can do . . . Yep, love to Mum as well. Take care, Dad.’

  ‘He’s not coming?’ Conor asked, slowing beside her.

  ‘There’s a thunderstorm sitting over the top of Ruby Downs. They’ve had 100 millimetres of rain in half an hour and it’s still pouring. If he leaves now he’ll be cut off. No way should he leave Mum alone.’

  The main sports arena was littered with stretchers and bags as people started to carve out their corner for the storm’s duration. Petra stalked to the PA system and tapped the mic. It echoed around the building. ‘Excuse me, folks. Anyone see Abby Dark, Kristy’s girl? Her mum’s here to pick her up. Or Sissy McDonald?’

  ‘Yeah. Jeff, the old bloke who’s still on the McDonalds’ spread, was here collecting them,’ a middle-aged woman called from where she sat on a camping stool next to an oversized esky.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘He was muttering about horses and wild goose chases. Didn’t quite get the gist of it. Those girls looked thick as thieves.’

  Kristy’s face was pale. ‘Why the hell would Abby go with Jeff?’

  Conor reached out and gripped her elbow. ‘I’m sure he’s harmless.’

  ‘Cunning as a magpie, that one, but he adores Sissy,’ Petra said. ‘He won’t let anything happen to her, although he knows which side his bread’s buttered.’

  ‘Right. Let’s go.’ Conor grabbed Kristy’s hand. Her legs were wobbly, but she followed him with Petra trailing behind. At the front door he stopped. ‘If she turns up, call.’

  ‘Of course,’ Petra replied, her mouth pinched with worry.

  ‘Maybe she’s at your house. Let’s check there first.’ Conor kept his voice low, reasoning. Kristy looked to be hanging on by a thread. Her nod of reply was jerky. If Jeff had taken the girls back to Glenview and Freya had done a runner then it was all going to unravel and someone was going to get hurt.

  He looked east as they headed for the car. Cyclone Kate was creeping closer. The layers of cloud were stacking on top of each other now, with billowing storm cells embedded in the outer rings. Cooktown was in for a rough ride.

  29

  Kristy’s phone beeped as they got to the car. ‘Oh my God, it’s Abby.’ She wrenched open the door and dropped into the seat. Conor peered over her shoulder from the passenger side.

  Hi Mum, Sissy freakn about her horse . . . call soon all good:)

  ‘That sound like Abby to you?’ Conor asked.

  Kristy tilted her head. ‘Three months ago I would have said no, but recently? And since she’s with Sissy? They both send texts like that.’

  ‘O-kay.’

  Kristy had the phone to her ear but she hissed when it went to message bank again. She tapped out a message.

  Honey, call me. It’s urgent.

  A text came back in sixty seconds.

  Cool cool can’t talk, busy.

  ‘No voice calls? Or she doesn’t want to talk? Or she can’t talk?’

  ‘Surely there wouldn’t be system outages this early?’

  ‘Heavy rain can play havoc.’ Kristy wanted to believe that.

  ‘I think we should report her as missing.’

  ‘But she’s not missing, she’s just somewhere I wish she wasn’t.’

  ‘So tell Abby we’re coming to get her. She and Sissy must be at Glenview.’

  ‘In this weather?’ She didn’t want to believe it, but Conor was probably right.

  ‘I’ll come with you. Drive slowly. Send her a message. Tell her you’re coming to collect them.’ His offer warmed her despite the air-conditioning blowing on her wet clothes.

  ‘Let’s check at home again before we go, just in case.’

  ‘Sure. And get you some dry clothes. You’re shivering.’

  She hadn’t realised the ache in her jaw was from clamping her teeth against the shudders of cold. How quickly the temperature dropped with a cyclone heading in and the rain bucketing down.

  They drove in silence for the few minutes it took to get to her house.

  ‘Abby?’ she called, freeing her key from the lock. ‘Abby?’ She was conscious the house wasn’t exactly tidy with a laundry basket overflowing onto the dining table, and dishes in the kitchen sink. She rushed to her daughter’s room, checking behind the door, under the bed as if her daughter was playing hide and seek. She did the same thing in her own room, in the bathroom, flicking on light switches as she went.

  ‘You want me to check with Mary?’ Conor asked. He was drenched to the skin, his T-shirt almost transparent.

  ‘I’ll ring.’

  Mary answered almost immediately. ‘You’re home. I was getting worried about you with all that rain.’

  ‘Is Abby with you?’

  ‘No. Should she be?’

  ‘She wasn’t at school and she’s not at the club either.’

  ‘Bloody hell. Where is she?’

  ‘I’m not sure, but she might be out at the McDonalds’ farm.’

  ‘In this weather?’

  Conor walked away as Kristy explained it to her neighbour. She was grateful for his steadying presence. The terror of losing Abby was overwhelming.

  She hung up and turned to find he’d switched her coffee brewer on.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘We’re both having a coffee. I’ll make it while you get changed into something warmer and then we’ll leave. Five minutes won’t make any difference right now.’

  She glared at him. ‘Five minutes can be the difference between living and dying.’

  ‘I know that. I know that all too well, Kristy, but I also know you’re not going to be any use to Abby if we slide off the road because we’re not alert. So please
, just humour me and we can be on the road in five.’

  She whirled away and stomped to her room. It took less than a minute to drag on a pair of jeans and a long sleeved T-shirt. She grabbed an elastic for her hair and slipped it on her wrist. She couldn’t walk past Abby’s room without stopping. She picked up a discarded pyjama top and held it to her face, breathing in her Abby, her beautiful baby girl. She would not cry. It could all be a misunderstanding. She would be strong. Again.

  Back in the kitchen Conor had the drinks ready. ‘How do you have it?’

  ‘White, no sugar.’

  He added a long pour of milk. ‘Should be cool enough to drink. You got a waterproof?’

  With a quick nod she sipped the coffee, then gulped it down when she realised it was lukewarm. Conor had already finished his and rinsed the cup.

  ‘Grab your coat. Let’s go.’

  The rain had eased, but the wind was building. Kristy turned her face to it before she opened the car door.

  ‘Got to be blowing 20 knots already,’ Conor said as he slammed his door.

  ‘And increasing.’ Kristy started the car and drove out onto the street. Leaves blew past, an empty bag caught up in the eddy.

  ‘They’ve moved the time of crossing forward again to three a.m.,’ Conor added.

  ‘Why is it cyclones cross in the middle of the night? They’re terrifying enough without the darkness. Must be horrendous on a boat.’

  ‘I’ve never been in a cyclone before. A storm, yes, but not one of these.’

  ‘You seem so calm.’ She glanced across at him. He met her gaze for an instant.

  ‘Nothing more we can do, is there? No point in worrying or panicking.’

  ‘Right.’ And of course he was right. Abby might be out at Glenview station with Sissy, happily looking after a couple of frightened horses. This could all be for nothing.

  ‘So, storm on the boat?’ She was talking to distract herself now. ‘Was it bad?’

  He looked down at his hands. His voice seemed to deepen. ‘I lost my last boat in a storm near Bundaberg. It was the tail end of a cyclone, one not as big as this. The seas were huge. I thought I’d make it to safety, but there was so much debris in the water from the earlier floods. Something wrapped around my prop and my rudder. I lost power and steering.’

  A blast of wind rocked the car as they came around a corner. ‘The currents pushed me onto the shore. I had no option but to abandon ship. The boat was wrecked on the rocks. Nothing left but shards of broken fibreglass and snapped rigging.’

  Kristy felt tears prickling at the devastation in his voice. ‘I’m so sorry. How did you get ashore?’

  ‘I was rescued. In more ways than one. By a woman and the local cop, Darcy and Noah.’ His laugh was short, no mirth in it. ‘I don’t think I really cared if I lived or died at that moment. But, here I am. Seems I cared enough to carry on.’

  ‘Sometimes just treading water is enough.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  They were running into the next rain squall and Kristy flicked the lights and windscreen wipers on.

  ‘Feel free to tell me to mind my own business,’ he said, ‘but I saw the photos on your wall. Your son was a beautiful boy.’

  Kristy concentrated on keeping the car on the wet road as puddles built up on the uneven surface. It was tempting to fob him off, but she didn’t want to think about Abby out there somewhere in this weather. When she finally spoke he had to lean in to hear her.

  ‘Finn was a ray of sunshine. Smiling was his default position. And eating. He loved his food, everything. Didn’t matter what you gave him. And the only thing he loved more was swimming.’ She paused. ‘One day he took himself to the beach. We were staying in a beautiful apartment at Noosa, right on the beach. No one saw him go. When we noticed he was missing it was too late. He’d drowned. He couldn’t be resuscitated.’

  ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘So am I, every day of my life.’

  ‘It would have been especially hard for someone who’s a healer, who saves lives.’

  She bit the inside of her lip. It hurt so much that this man she barely knew understood her better than her own husband had. That had been at the heart of her pain. She should have been able to save Finn and she couldn’t, she hadn’t. The road blurred through her tears and she swallowed, willing them not to fall. Surely, surely, she should be able to talk about this after three years?

  He rested his hand on her shoulder, warm, secure, his thumb rubbing up and down the top of her arm. A council truck coming the other way sprayed them with water and forced them onto the hard shoulder. Her hands tightened on the wheel. Conor didn’t move. She took a deep breath. ‘And my husband died a year later.’ It was the best she could manage.

  ‘Tough time for you and Abby.’

  She could only nod and concentrate on driving.

  ‘I’m sorry for asking.’ His hand dropped back to his lap. ‘Your house is full of photos of them.’

  ‘I figured I owed it to Abby to keep those memories alive. She lost so much yet she was all that kept me going. I had to live because I still had Abby.’

  ‘And you cared enough to carry on.’ He paraphrased his earlier words.

  ‘I suppose I did.’

  ‘So Cooktown’s a new beginning?’

  ‘Yes. Somewhere familiar to me, to Abby, with her grandparents close enough. And it’s a small town. Community’s important. I wanted to keep her safe.’

  ‘And you have.’

  ‘Up until now.’

  ‘Hey, she’ll be fine. We’ll find her and take her home.’

  Take her home. Was Cooktown home? Or Ruby Downs? Or nowhere?

  ‘Do you call anywhere home?’

  He looked at her for an instant, surprise in his eyes. ‘The Veritas, I guess. I don’t think of where my parents live as being home. It’s not the house I grew up in. My house in Sydney was sold when Annabel and Lily died. I couldn’t bear it.’

  ‘I know that feeling. It’s almost like you can hear them still, but you can’t reach them. They’re everywhere, but they’re not coming home.’

  ‘Hmm.’ The sound was deep in his chest and he’d turned to look out the window.

  They drove for the next five minutes in silence. The traffic was light. Most people were already home. She wanted to ask him about his family, about his identity, but she didn’t know how to begin.

  Her phone beeped.

  ‘Can you check it?’ she asked.

  ‘It says, Mum, Jonno’s gone crazy.’

  ‘Write back, Where are you? And add a smiley face so she knows she’s not in trouble.’

  The response was swift and Kristy pulled off the road, almost snatching the phone from Conor.

  Hiding. He’s got a gun.

  Who’s with you? she typed back. There was a brief wait and Kristy nibbled at her thumbnail.

  Sissy and the horses.

  You can’t stay there. It’s dangerous.

  Gates are locked. He’s mental!!! Steve too!! even Sissy scared.

  ‘Sissy’s not scared of much,’ Conor said. ‘What the hell’s going on at that place?’

  ‘Maybe Freya hasn’t made a break for it,’ Kristy said, trying to make sense of what they knew. ‘We’re almost at Glenview. We might as well call in anyway.’

  ‘And if Freya’s done a runner? Won’t this alert them to that?’

  ‘You think so?’ She pulled onto the road again.

  The phone beeped again and Conor picked it up.

  At the boatshed my phone almost flat.

  ‘Stay where you are,’ Conor read as he typed. ‘Turn your phone off now and save the battery. Turn it on in one hour. Conor.’

  ‘What?’ Kristy was horrified. ‘What’s going to happen in an hour?’ The phone beeped again before he could reply.

  Oh thank god you with mum :-D

  A massive fork of lightning hit a tree several hundred metres off to their left in the middle of the paddock. A deafening clap of thunder rever
berated through the car. Kristy almost screamed. They watched as smoke rose from the shattered trunk. It heralded more rain and the heavens opened again, dousing the fire before it could grow.

  ‘That was bloody close,’ Conor muttered. ‘We’ll try Freya again. Use my phone. If something’s happened and the McDonalds have her phone they won’t recognise the number if they’re blocking you.’

  Kristy felt the knot in her chest grow to brick size. ‘I guess.’ She didn’t dare look at Conor as she dialled Freya on his phone.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Freya?’

  ‘No, who’s this?’

  ‘Kristy.’

  ‘Oh shit. This is Petra. She’s left the phone at the PCYC. It’s in a bag. Wait on.’ Kristy could hear the bag being plonked on the table. ‘Bloody hell, along with two iPads and an iPod. She must have left them here so Jonno would think she and the kids are here, safe from the cyclone.’

  ‘So where the hell are they? We think Abby and Sissy are on Glenview with the horses.’ Kristy was shaking like a leaf. ‘We’re heading out there now.’

  ‘For Christ sake, don’t barge in there. If she’s convinced him that they’re in the cyclone shelter, then she’s bought herself twenty-four hours’ head start.’

  ‘Would Sissy be crazy enough to want to stay with the horses?’

  ‘She’s mad enough about them, but I can’t see Freya leaving her behind. And without a phone.’

  ‘No, I can’t either. God, I can’t believe this is happening. Abby wouldn’t do this to me.’

  ‘You’ve told the cops?’

  ‘They’re all flat strap with cyclone preparation. And I have no proof other than some text messages that don’t make sense.’

  ‘Don’t go onto Glenview without an invite. Please. They aren’t people to be messed with. Remember that.’

  ‘Kristy, let’s go,’ Conor interrupted. ‘I have a plan. Please?’ He held out his hand for the phone.

  ‘Petra, it’s Conor. Do me a favour. Call Miller. Tell him what we think might have happened and that we think Abby and Sissy are on Glenview. I’ll go in via the river. See what I can see. He’s not going to approve, but at least if I’ve warned him there’s more chance of beating a trespassing rap.’