The Leaves Forget, page 5
So if you get this letter and I haven’t called you or been in touch, please come and find me.
Please, Craig.
Come and get me!
Liv x
Fuck! I grab the last letter. My blood goes cold. The writing on the front is different. It’s not Liv’s handwriting.
16
THE FOURTEENTH LETTER, 18TH MARCH
Just one day after the last one.
Hello. Craig, is it? Jonathan here, nice to meet you.
My stomach turns to snow and my pulse is suddenly loud and heavy, throbbing in my ears.
I really have no idea what Liv has been telling you about us, but I assume you’ve had some kind of running commentary on life here at conclave. She was clever, I’ll give her that.
Was? I think I’m going to vomit.
I checked so many times, tried to figure out why she always wanted to drive, but I never caught her slipping to the post box. But no matter, we have nothing to hide. We’re simply a group of people who don’t want any part of modern life. We’re just hippies, really, looking for enlightenment. She shouldn’t have been writing to you, I have no idea for how long she has been or what she’s said. Cunning little soul, isn’t she? I knew something was up, but I never could figure out what. More fool me, I suppose.
Anyway, Liv ran away. She’s gone, I don’t know where. I assume she’s on her way back to you. I found the compartment in the truck with her letter writing stuff and a scrap of paper with your address. But as she’s gone now I can’t ask her more about it. I guess she’s already been in touch? No hard feelings. This way clearly wasn’t for her after all.
Please don’t come and disturb our peace. I’m happy for this to be an end to it if you are.
Thank you.
Jonathan
I sit and stare at the letter for what seems like an age. That last line sounds so much like a threat. Jonathan sent this letter over two months ago. And if she ran away after mailing it, and he only then found her stash of paper, how does he know my name? Maybe Liv mentioned it, I suppose that’s possible. But isn’t it also possible that he caught her right after she sent that last, crumpled letter that she’d written? That she didn’t get away? That he made her tell him about the secret paper and pen and envelopes and me and everything? And then what? What did he do to her? He’s talking like she’s simply gone, but she has yet to be found, so I’m sorry if I don’t believe a fucking word he says. Liv might have taken too long to see through his manipulations, but not me. I’ve had him pegged from the start.
I’m on my feet and grabbing my coat before I consciously realise I’m moving. I’ve had a few too many drams, but I can’t wait. I have to do something.
But what? I’m scrambling for my phone as I run out the door and head down to the building’s lobby.
17
I’M CURSING THE COLD again within minutes of leaving the house, striding along the footpath, tapping on my phone for an Uber to my parents’ place. I gave up keeping a car of my own years ago. Living in the city, there’s public transport and cabs and Uber. And Mum and Dad always lend me one of theirs when I need it as they have two and rarely go anywhere separately, especially since Dad took early retirement a couple of years ago, and Mum stopped working at sixty.
My mind is spinning. More than two months ago Liv begged me to come and save her and I didn’t know. She must have felt so alone. So abandoned. Did she think we’d all given up on her? My heart aches at the thought.
The ride pulls up a few minutes later and I climb in. It’s nearly seven p.m., not too late really, but I have to wonder what I hope to achieve this evening.
I dial my dad’s phone as we drive.
“Hey, Craig, what’s new?”
“Dad, there’s been a development. I’ve heard from Liv—”
“What? What have you heard?”
I hear Mum immediately speak up, high and strident in the background. Dad is talking over her and neither are listening to me.
“Dad! Please!”
“Sorry, go on.”
“It’s not great, okay? I don’t know where she is, but I have found out where she was, at least until about two and a half months ago. After that . . . I don’t know.”
“Well, that’s closer than we’ve been yet. What did you hear? How did you hear?”
I can tell by the echo that he’s put the phone on speaker so Mum can hear too.
“I got some letters. It’s going to be easier to explain in person, it’s a bit of a mess. I’ll show you the letters. I’m on my way there now, so I’m just checking you’re home.”
“We are. We’re not going anywhere.”
“Okay, good. And I’ll need to borrow a car for a day or two, okay? I have some stuff to follow up.”
“Sure, of course. Whatever you need. Just get here.”
“I’m fifteen minutes away.”
Next I dial Andrew and it rings out. He was seeing his family tonight, “parental date night” he calls it, and insists I don’t go. It’s too boring for me, apparently, and he gets away sooner if he says he has to leave to come see me. I’m not sure if I feel used or looked after by that, but we’re used to it now. Anyway, he probably has his phone on silent. It goes through to voicemail.
“Hi, love,” I say. “There’s some news about Liv, and I’m heading over to Mum and Dad’s. Nothing concrete, but some stuff to follow up.” I don’t want him to get over-excited like my parents did. “Would be good if you can join us, I’m sure you’ll want to catch up.” Andrew liked Liv a lot, thought of her as his little sister too. “Can you call me when you get a chance? Love you.”
I hang up and lean my head back against the seat. The whiskies are having a bigger effect than I thought, my vision swimming a little. Probably just as much from the intense heat in this car after the cold outside.
“Everything okay, mate?” the driver asks me.
“What’s that?”
“Are you okay? I don’t mean to pry, but that was a couple of pretty hectic phone calls and you look . . . Well, you don’t look well.”
I huff a laugh. “Sorry, I’m not sick. I had a few drinks too quickly, that’s all. But I’m not going to spew or anything. It’s just been a hell of a day. All kinds of family drama, you know. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay, cool. Family, huh? The cause of all our joys and all our dismays.”
I glance across, take him in for the first time. He has a warm, brown face, kind eyes. His hands on the wheel look manicured. I get a positive, generous vibe off him. “Yeah,” I say. “That can be true. Your family cause you a lot of dismay?”
He laughs. “Actually, in general, no. But I have a younger brother who is doing his best to end up in jail and probably will succeed before long if he doesn’t pull his act together.”
This guy looks to be in his mid- to late-twenties at least. “A lot younger?” I ask, guessing.
“Yes. My mother remarried after my father died. I was twelve. We moved here, and she met a new man. They have a son, my half-brother. He’s fifteen and currently quite off the rails.”
His father died when he was twelve, and now he’s dealing with this situation. Everyone has their story. Everyone has struggles we can never even guess at. The cause of all our joys and all our dismays. “I hope your brother finds his way.”
“Thank you. We’re doing our best.”
My family is actually pretty normal and well-balanced in comparison, other than Liv being flaky as hell. At least, pretty normal until she vanished. But we’ve never been dangerously poor, and we’ve always got along with each other. Mum and Dad are still in love, heading for a Golden wedding anniversary. Until Liv disappeared, we’ve never really been tested in any way. Not like this poor guy, but he’s still kind and warm and smiling. I respect him enormously all of a sudden.
Now I think maybe a lot of stuff is all coming for us at once.
The Uber driver drops me off and I pause to give him five stars and a generous tip, then I head inside to field Mum and Dad’s frantic questions. Twenty minutes later I’m in an armchair sipping hot coffee while they’re shoulder-to-shoulder on the couch reading the letters together. Their sounds of distress echo my own sentiments. Mum has a tear on her cheek and Dad’s cheeks are twitching as he grinds his teeth.
“She’s so stupid sometimes,” he mutters, when they get to the end.
“She’s too trusting,” Mum says.
I raise both hands. “Let’s not bother debating what got us to this point, yeah? What Liv already did is done. It was months ago. Let’s concentrate on what we’re going to do now. I need a car. I’m going to head first to the offices she mentioned, in Warrane. The street names she gave should be enough to find it. See if there’s anything there. I doubt it, but I just want to check first as it’s not far. Then I’m going to head up to the conclave place. I know I can find it. The letters are postmarked from the Deverin post office. I looked that up in the Uber on the way over. Easy enough, about an hour and a half from here.”
“Not tonight.” My Dad’s voice has that tone of finality.
“What do you mean?”
“There’s no point doing anything now. It’s nearly eight o’clock, it’s dark and cold. You won’t achieve anything. And you said yourself you’ve had a drink. I won’t lose you to some idiotic drunk driving crash right when we might be close to finding Liv again. And what about Andrew and your work?”
“I called Andrew. He’ll call back when he gets the message. I can put work off for a day or two, that’s not a problem. They’ll understand a family emergency, and this qualifies, I reckon.”
Dad nods, licks his lips. He’s clearly thinking, planning. He always was a pragmatic man. Mum sits watching, hands clenched together.
“Will Andrew be able to take time off?” Dad asks, looking up.
“I expect so. It’s important, right?” He might have bookings, he works as a quantity surveyor, but I’m sure it won’t be anything he can’t pass off to someone else. Same as me, they’ll understand.
Dad nods once, decisive. “Okay, so wait until Andrew calls back. Ask him to come help us.”
“Us?”
“Yes, us. We’ll take my car, it’s four-wheel-drive. Might prove useful.” He looks over at Mum. “Beth, you can stay home and watch the phone?”
“I want to come.”
“We need someone here, near the phone. Available to get help sent or whatever. I think it’s a risk if we all go gallivanting off together.”
She stares, chews her lower lip. “I’d like to come too, but I’m guessing this is man’s work. Is that it?”
Dad opens his mouth to object, but I interrupt. “No, Mum, that’s bullshit. It’s not man’s or woman’s work. But we do need someone at home, close to the phone and any other help we might have to call in.”
Mum nods, then she smiles sadly, but without rancour. “I can do that.”
“Good,” Dad says. “I won’t leave you wondering, we’ll let you know everything that happens along the way.”
“I’ll text you with every development, Mum. I promise.”
“Okay.”
Dad nods again. “Good. So we talk to Andrew, hopefully he can come right over, and we set off first thing tomorrow.”
“Craig, have you eaten?” Mum asks, and I realise I’m starving.
18
WE’RE EATING BREAKFAST, crunching toast and sipping coffee in companionable silence, when Andrew lets himself in the back door. He came over the night before and got caught up on everything, and insisted on joining us before we’d even asked.
“Morning, Clive. Beth.” He comes directly to me and we hug, kiss. “You okay?” he asks.
“Sure. For a given value of okay.”
He hefts a shopping bag. “I went out early, got road supplies. Muesli bars, juice boxes, stuff like that.”
“Have you eaten breakfast?” Mum asks.
“I have, thanks. But that coffee smells great.”
Mum pours him a cup and Dad says, “Thanks again for coming along. Your work okay with it?”
“Nothing they can’t manage for a day or two. I want to be here with you guys. It’s kinda insane, what’s happened so far.”
He’s not wrong in that assessment. “Liv has always done madcap shit,” I say, with a wry smile. “But yeah, this is out there even for her.”
“Sounds like she just got dragged in until she found herself too deep to get out.”
“I think so.”
“Where did she go, though? I mean, that last letter sounded like she was out of there, but you never heard anything, so . . .”
The implication is clear. Dad and Mum are looking intently at me, waiting for me to confirm what we all fear, I suppose. I nod, sigh. “Yeah, I think Jonathan caught her. I think she sent that last letter, and maybe he didn’t realise she got it out? Either way, I reckon he caught her in Deverin and took her back. But after that? Who knows? Maybe they’re still there and we can go get her.” It’s what I want to be true, but it sounds hopeless.
“So where do we start?”
“The office she mentioned is in Warrane, which is only a few minutes from here. Let’s go there and see if there are any clues. Maybe even a person we can talk to.”
“A person we can pin down and interrogate, you mean?”
I can’t help a smile. “Certainly, if that’s what it takes. In case they’re not near Deverin any more, maybe someone at that office will know something and we can squeeze it out of them.” Andrew’s passion is one of the things I love about him. His anger is evident, but I can see a fear in his eyes too. I suppose the fear is that we’ll find the worst. Or maybe that we won’t find anything at all and the mystery of what happened to Liv will have more backstory but no more closure than before. “But I don’t expect it’s likely,” I add. “We just have to check there first, I think. And then head straight for Deverin.”
“I agree,” Dad says. “But we’re not wasting time there. I think we need to get to Deverin as soon as possible.”
It’s already been over two months since her last letter. What difference does a day or even a week make now? But I don’t say anything, because everyone here will already be thinking that, like I am.
Andrew gulps down the last of his coffee. “Let’s go then.”
“Text me every bit of news!” Mum says.
I hug her, kiss her cheek. “I will.” It feels good to be moving, finally doing something.
Dad drives us over to Warrane and we don’t talk in the car. As we get close, I pull up Google maps. “Liv’s letter said a small office block on the corner of Cambridge Road and Electra Place.”
We hang a left at a large roundabout and Dad says, “This is Cambridge Road.”
My map confirms it. “Next left is Electra Place, only a hundred metres or so.”
Dad turns the next left and pulls up to the kerb. On one side is a low brick building and what looks like an electricity substation. Opposite is a yard displaying kit homes mostly made from steel sidings. Dad drives slowly up Electra Place and it’s entirely industrial. Garages and warehouses, bizarrely a funeral director’s, a mechanic. Nothing remotely like an office block.
“Maybe she remembered the address wrong?” Andrew says.
Dad drives back out on Cambridge Road. It’s all residential housing on the other side, so he turns left and crawls along. We pass a paint shop and an automotive place, then it becomes residential housing on that side too, but the last building before the houses start is a two-storey, grey brick block, square and cold-looking. Dad hits the brakes and moves to the kerb, the car behind us blaring a horn and swerving around. The driver gives Dad the finger and Dad frowns, offers an apologetic wave back. “This one, you think?” he asks.
I don’t know, but it’s the best option we’ve seen. “Let’s take a look.”
The place is closed up and bare of furniture. What we can see through the grubby windows is bare cement floors and general litter and detritus lying around. A pile of junk mail lies just inside the door.
“Looks like this place has been empty for months,” Andrew says, hands cupped around his eyes as he peers through the grimy glass.
“Maybe they only open up once a year when they’re trying to lure in new blood?” I try to see through the main door and there’s a kind of reception desk there, covered in dust. A door behind it is closed. “Liv’s letter said the place was run-down and that she went into an office behind the reception desk. So this could be the place, but there’s clearly nothing here now. More importantly, there’s no-one here now.”
“This is a waste of time,” Dad says. “Look.”
There’s a faded sign in the side window almost obscured by street grime. It’s a poster from a real estate agent, Available for Lease: Long or Short Term.
“Rents it when he needs it?” Dad suggests. “Regardless, it’s useless to us, right?”
I have to agree. I turn and head back to the car, Dad and Andrew just a step behind. “Let’s get to Deverin.”
19
WE HEAD NORTH-WEST out of Hobart, take a left on the B61 at Westerway, and up into the hills. We pass through Fitzgerald and Maydena then eventually come to Deverin, a bit more than an hour and a half’s drive from the city. Liv had been so close all that time. We’ve spoken little on the way, all lost in our own thoughts. Andrew is in the back and I reach through between the seats from time to time so we can give each other fortifying squeezes of the hand.
Dad’s face is set as he drives, and a part of me can tell he’s bracing himself not to find his daughter, but maybe to finally find the evidence that she’s gone for good. I’m not sure exactly how I see that in his expression, but it’s there. Or perhaps I’m projecting because, honestly, how is it possible that Liv is still alive but hasn’t managed to reach us since her last rushed letter? Unless Jonathan has her well and truly under lock and key. Is that possible, or is that some weird and twisted hope on my part?
