Arcadia

by Di Morrissey

  ‘Of course, no worries, we’ll get it done.’

  ‘You’re a darling. I’ll give you a ring again tomorrow while we still have reception. Love you.’

  ‘We miss you, and love you. But all’s good, you and Jess have fun.’

  As Sally got up to join the others inside, her mobile rang again and she quickly answered, thinking Toby must have forgotten something. ‘Hi . . . Toby?’ She glanced at the phone, but there was no number displayed.

  She listened for a moment and knew it was the same mysterious caller as before.

  ‘Listen, stop calling me. You have the wrong number.’

  She paused, sensing the breathing at the other end of the line, but then, to her shock, a low male voice said, ‘I know where you are.’

  And then the line went dead.

  5

  North-west Tasmania, 2018

  The wipers clicked monotonously to and fro, leaving a wet fan shape on the windscreen. After the warmth and familiarity of being with Chrissie and Paul, driving along a deserted road with the cold and mizzling wind blowing outside was a shock to the system.

  Sally and Jessica had set out after lunch, leaving Chrissie and Paul to catch up on their work around the farm now that the television crew had left. The weather had closed in and the girls were glad they’d thrown their padded jackets into the car. They’d said their goodbyes, had Carmen’s directions, and were heading out to meet her at the small harbour to go over to the island.

  Jessica drove and Sally checked her phone and Facebook. ‘I just can’t stop thinking about that creepy call,’ she said, sighing.

  ‘Well, Carmen said there’s no reception on the island, so you won’t get any strange calls there,’ said Jessica.

  ‘Do you really think somebody is following us? Knows where we’re going and where we’ve been?’ asked Sally in a hesitant voice. ‘Of course, anyone could see where we are by looking at the photos I’ve put up on Facebook. From now on I’m going to message them to Toby instead.’

  ‘Maybe someone could work out where we are,’ said Jessica, ‘but why would they bother? No one apart from your family knows about the papers and stuff we found, or that we’re planning to go to Seawinds. And even if they did, there’s nothing sinister in that.’

  ‘Well, there’re the plant people we spoke to at the Gardens . . .’ began Sally.

  ‘We didn’t say much to them, and anyway, it would be very unlikely that they’d be making the calls, don’t you think?’

  ‘Yes, but . . .’

  ‘But what?’ persisted Jessica.

  ‘I just feel there’s something that’s not quite right about all this . . . like finding the name of a house, Seawinds, at Shelter Bay. Who lives there now? Is there any connection with my family? It’s unnerving that the tin was in the cave on Arcadia’s land. It’s not like we were out bushwalking just anywhere and stumbled over it.’

  ‘True,’ said Jessica slowly. ‘As kids we just figured it was a swaggie’s hangout from the old days. The tin box must have been there all along but we weren’t strong enough to move the bed. Also, I suppose we were so busy playing and making up our own games there that it’s no wonder we didn’t find it. You know, I never thought I’d go back to that cave.’

  ‘How innocent we were as kids,’ Sally mused. ‘What would have happened if we’d found the old tin box and taken it to our parents back then? What can of worms might we have opened?’

  ‘Who knows? But you’re right, maybe it’s lucky we didn’t come across it then. Now we can try to find out something about the things that were in it without telling anyone just yet,’ said Jessica.

  ‘I suppose so. And now here we are, trekking halfway across the state because of some man’s connection with my grandmother. It was a good excuse to get away together, have a bit of a road trip, investigate a mystery and have fun,’ said Sally. ‘But the phone calls. They’ve freaked me out. I just have the scary feeling there’s something more to it. That someone’s monitoring us and taking notice of where we’re going, what we’re doing.’

  ‘I have to agree,’ said Jessica slowly. She glanced in the rear-view mirror. ‘Well, there are no other cars on the road.’

  Sally began fiddling with her phone and snapped a photo of the drizzling rain from the car window. ‘I’m texting this so Toby can see this awful weather. Apparently it’s sunny at home. Katie loves seeing what we’re seeing.’

  At that moment Sally’s phone rang. ‘It’s Carmen,’ she said to Jess as she answered. ‘Hi Carmen, I hope there’s going to be better weather than this on the island. We’ve just left Chrissie and Paul’s . . .’ Sally listened. ‘Oh, that’s a shame. All right. Let us know as soon as you know anything.’ She hung up. ‘Damn. Carmen says we can’t get to the island in this weather. The sea is up, it’s too rough.’

  ‘Oh crap. So what now?’

  Sally turned and looked at Jessica, knowing they both shared the same thought. Jessica pulled over.

  ‘Right, I’ll see how we get there,’ said Sally, who already had Google Maps open on her phone.

  ‘Just put in Shelter Bay. We don’t have an address for Seawinds so we’ll need to go to the town, if there is one, and ask around,’ Jess said.

  ‘Okay. I’ll just try Google Maps in case something comes up for Seawinds,’ Sally said, tapping the screen. ‘You know, even though I was reluctant at first, now I think I’d be disappointed if we can’t get over to the island with Carmen.’

  ‘The island won’t go anywhere, and I’m sure Carmen will call us when the boat can safely pick us up,’ said Jessica.

  Sally studied her phone. ‘The town’s a bit off the beaten track. Google Maps isn’t coming up with anything for Seawinds. I think we need a proper street address or house number.’

  ‘Let’s ask someone when we get into town. In such a small place, hopefully someone will know where it is and maybe even who owns it,’ said Jessica.

  ‘So when we find it, what do we say to the people who live there? Should we ask them if they know of this fellow, Broadbent? And what should we tell them about the stuff in the tin?’

  ‘We could say we were bushwalking, sheltering from the rain in a cave and golly, gee, we found all this stuff. And saw the name of their house on the old map. Sounds reasonable, don’t you think?’

  ‘Hmm, I guess so. Then what?’

  ‘Sal, let’s wait and see what happens. We can’t script the whole thing.’

  *

  It was late afternoon and the rain had eased somewhat by the time they drove into the small and seemingly deserted township of Shelter Bay. They were silent as Jessica drove slowly past the shuttered garage with its broken-down pump out the front, near a peeling, lopsided Closed sign. The Royal Lion Hotel was empty, shutters barring the door, and the chicken takeaway shop had boards on its windows, while the charity shop had a large sign out the front, Do Not Leave Goods. Out of Business. Nevertheless, a few rubbish bags with old clothes leaching through tears in the plastic were bunched on the front step. The post office was bolted and abandoned with a sign reading Moved to New Premises, and a map hung lopsidedly on the front door.

  ‘Good grief, the whole place has closed down. Everybody has left town,’ said Sally as they passed the dusty, unused laundrette.

  ‘Should I just put my foot down and head for the city lights?’ said Jessica.

  ‘Well, we’re here now,’ Sally replied uncertainly.

  ‘Here? Where? There’s nothing here. Shelter Bay is kaput.’

  ‘Are we in the right place, do you think?’

  ‘We passed that sign that said Shelter Bay 5 km just back there.’

  ‘Perhaps they should take it down.’

  ‘There’s no one here to take down the sign and turn off the lights.’ Jessica stopped the car. ‘Let’s see the map. Where’s the next sighting of civilisation? I don�
��t feel like sleeping in the car.’

  ‘It’ll be getting dark soon. I couldn’t face the drive back over that mountain range at night. It’s too scary. No lights, no rails around those bends, and a huge drop below.’ Sally sighed.

  ‘We can take the coast road. See here, we’re only a kilometre or so from the coast. Maybe they moved the town,’ said Jessica. ‘Look, there’s a bay marked here.’

  ‘Yikes!’ screeched Sally suddenly, flinging herself against Jessica as she shrank away from her door, where a young man’s head and shoulders had appeared in her window.

  He tapped with hands in fingerless gloves. His sleeves were rolled up, showing elaborate tattoos. He was saying something.

  Jessica hit the button for the passenger window and rolled it down an inch or so. Sally recoiled, moving close to Jess again.

  ‘G’day. Where’s everybody gone?’ said Jessica, leaning over to Sally’s window.

  ‘Town’s closed. All gone from here. What’re you looking for?’

  ‘We’re looking for Shelter Bay.’

  He gave a stretched smile showing bad teeth. ‘Nothing here any more. There’s a few places down at the waterfront. On the bay. You looking for a feed, or something? Where youse headed?’

  ‘Just kind of touring,’ said Jessica. ‘Is there a pub or somewhere to eat on the waterfront? Has the town moved?’

  ‘Moved on, more like it. Once the tin mine closed.’ He tilted his head over his shoulder. ‘Too many blokes died.’

  ‘Oh, how tragic,’ said Sally. ‘Well, thanks for your help.’

  Jessica put the car in gear but held her foot on the brake. ‘You lived around here a long time?’

  ‘Long enough. No one comes here much.’ He straightened up. ‘Kilometre or so down that way, turn into the waterfront at the old jetty. Restaurant should be open.’

  ‘Thanks very much, we’ll grab a bite and be moving on,’ said Jessica cheerfully, and slid the window closed. He stepped back and they drove away.

  ‘Moving on to where?’ asked Sally. ‘There’s nothing for miles. We’ll have to stay here.’

  ‘Well, I’m not telling him that. Who knows? We might’ve interrupted some drug deal.’

  ‘Jess, you can be so judgemental sometimes. He was actually quite helpful!’ Sally said. ‘Let’s find somewhere to stay tonight. With your wild imagination, you’re making me feel nervous now.’

  But when they wound down the road into the small community they were surprised.

  ‘Hey, this looks all right,’ Jessica exclaimed.

  ‘Who would ever have guessed? It’s very quaint. Do you think it’s old, or mocked up to look that way?’ said Sally as they turned into the main street lined with refurbished shops, small businesses, a milk bar and a restaurant.

  ‘Oh, look, that guy was right, the restaurant’s open. Let’s stop,’ said Jessica. ‘It looks very 1960s.’

  Beyond the glass counter with a display case of fresh ingredients – salads, meats, cheeses, as well as sausage rolls, pies and cakes – was a line of booths, each set with tomato sauce, mustard, pepper and salt, and paper napkins twirled in a glass beside plastic menus and a small posy of fresh flowers.

  ‘I bet they serve milkshakes in metal containers,’ said Jessica.

  Sally was looking at the menu. ‘Maybe, but they also have fresh scallops, oyster pies, and kedgeree, yum.’

  As they settled themselves in a booth, a young woman came over, brushing her hands on her apron. ‘Sorry, I was just getting a cheese damper out of the oven. What can I get you?’

  ‘It smells wonderful. Maybe we could have an early dinner?’ said Sally.

  ‘All our seafood is caught here,’ the woman said. ‘Would you like to start with a drink? Coffee? Tea? We also have some good local wines. I’m Petal, by the way.’

  ‘What a cute name. Unusual.’ Jessica smiled.

  ‘My mother, grandmother, aunties and cousins are all named after flowers. I think they’d run out by the time I was born.’ She glanced over her shoulder as a man came through from the kitchen. ‘Oh, here’s Roger. He’ll fix you up. I’d better get back in there; I’ve got something on the stove.’

  Roger gave them a smile. ‘Have you decided? Our seafood is popular.’

  ‘If we’re staying the night here, we’ll have a glass of wine,’ said Jessica. ‘Could you recommend somewhere to stay? We’ve just driven in so we haven’t had a chance to look around.’

  ‘We were a bit shocked at the state of the main township when we came through,’ said Sally. ‘Closed up completely.’

  ‘Yes. Nowadays most people drive straight through it then find their way down here. As for accommodation, there’s only one option really, Rose Lawn. It’s a guesthouse that is rather, er, quirky. But comfortable and clean.’

  ‘Sounds good,’ said Sally.

  ‘What do you mean by quirky?’ asked Jessica.

  Roger shrugged. ‘Hamish Holroyd, the owner, is a bit . . . eccentric. Odd sort of bloke. I’ve only met him once or twice. I can ring and book you in.’

  ‘Well, beggars can’t be choosers! It would be great if you could call him, thank you,’ said Sally.

  ‘Will do. Now, we have a local red wine, or would you prefer white?’

  ‘If we’re having seafood, I might go for the white,’ said Jessica.

  After Roger had taken their orders and walked away, Sally tapped a quick text into her phone. ‘Toby will be relieved to know we’ve found civilisation,’ she said.

  ‘Yes, and he’s not the only one,’ said Jess.

  *

  Petal persuaded them to try her fresh fig custard pie for dessert and Roger brought them small glasses of sticky wine on the house to go with it.

  ‘You’re booked in at Rose Lawn. It’s only ten minutes down the road. There’s really not much else here since the big pub closed. A room in the old boarding house, but that’s a bit basic. After the mine closed, there wasn’t much call for the boarding house.’

  ‘What happened at the mine?’ asked Jessica.

  ‘There was an accident. Few years back now. They never got to the bottom of what really happened.’

  ‘Thank you so much,’ Sally said to Petal as she paid the bill. ‘Everything was delicious. I’ll have to bring my husband and our daughter here one day. By the way, do you know of a house near here somewhere called Seawinds?’

  ‘Oh yes, the big old place. I can draw a map of how to find it from here, if you like,’ said Petal.

  After drawing the map and showing them where to go, she handed it to Sally. ‘You should be able to find it easily enough. I don’t know if anyone is still living out there. Take care and enjoy your time up here in the north,’ said Petal.

  ‘If you come by for coffee in the morning, you can let us know what you thought of Rose Lawn,’ Roger said, smiling. ‘I’m sure it will be fine. Have a good night.’

  ‘Nice couple. The place was a bit kitsch but the food was great,’ said Jessica as she pulled on her seatbelt and started the car. ‘Okay, so time to find this Rose place. I have to say Roger didn’t fill me with confidence about it, though!’

  *

  As they swung into the driveway, their headlights lit up clumps of rosebushes on the front lawn and creeping roses covering the portico. A light shone above the door, which opened and a man waved at them, indicating the large carport and cleared area. ‘Park over there,’ he called out.

  Hamish Holroyd fussed over them, lifting their bags from the boot and attempting to carry both before Jessica took hers from him. He paused to point out a large shape near the house that was shrouded in green plastic.

  ‘Hot tub. It’s turned on. In case you girls want to have a nice soak.’ He gave a bit of a giggle and Jessica looked at Sally, rolling her eyes at his ‘nudge nudge, wink wink’ tone as they were ushered inside.

&nb
sp; As soon as she’d set foot in the door she recoiled with a stagger at the intense odour of old-fashioned roses.

  Sally coughed to smother a giggle, or possibly a gag, as they headed down the hallway, with Jessica waving her hand in front of her face.

  They barely took in the striped wallpaper in multiple shades of pink, the bunches of dried roses tied with pink bows, the jugs and bowls bearing fresh roses and potpourri mixtures, and the rose-scented candles. The smell of roses was overpowering.

  ‘This is Room One, here you are, dear,’ Mr Holroyd said in a broad Cockney accent, as he put Sally’s bag on the stand inside. ‘We call this our Old Rose Romantic Room, and across the hallway here is Room Two, our English Rose Room. See if you can spot the difference . . .’

  He gave a cackle that turned into a wheezy cough. Sally and Jess stood in the doorway, frozen, as they eyeballed the child-sized figures of storybook characters that were posed around the bed.

  ‘Cinderella, Snow White, those naughty dwarfs, Goldilocks . . .’ he said, introducing them.

  ‘We know who they are,’ managed Jessica.

  ‘Mrs Holroyd made them. We do so enjoy them . . .’

  ‘They’re looking at me,’ said Sally in a slightly strangled tone.

  Jessica jumped across the hall, sticking her head into her room.

  ‘Oh my God.’ She didn’t know whether to laugh or scream.

  Sally was at her side clutching Jessica’s arm. ‘Holy moly . . .’

  ‘You know them, of course,’ exclaimed Mr Holroyd with a delighted smirk, scratching his thin grey moustache.

  The Cheshire Cat with a huge, evil grin was curled up on the centre of the bed. Ranged around it were the White Rabbit, a mean-looking wolf in a red cape and a grotesquely plump pig. ‘Clever, isn’t she? All made from scraps, you know.’

  ‘Are there sound effects?’ whispered Sally, but Jessica jabbed her in the ribs.