Christmas at Remarkable Bay Read online

  ‘I suddenly lost the power of speech. I failed to come up with any words at all. Even saying “yes” was beyond my capabilities.’

  ‘So you panic-ate an entire finger bun?’

  ‘I did! And it was delicious.’ Mara slapped her forehead as she paced the living room of her holiday house. ‘I thought the bird watching tour this afternoon would calm me down but I couldn’t concentrate on the hooded plovers or the musk ducks or the red-browed finches as I was walking along the boardwalk through the mangroves. All I could think about was tomorrow night and how the whole thing is such a bad idea.’

  ‘Come on, Mara. It’s not a bad idea. You’re doing exactly what I advised you to do, remember? Leave all your problems behind, find a handsome man and have a cheap, meaningless holiday fling.’

  ‘That is so not me. I don’t do meaningless.’

  ‘Tell me something. Is this cop hot?’

  Mara rolled her eyes. ‘That is completely irrelevant. He’s a cop, Narima.’

  ‘So he’s not a hot cop?’

  ‘Okay, yes. He’s a hot cop. Objectively speaking.’

  ‘But here’s what’s intriguing me. He asked you out and you said yes. There must be something about this cop that makes him different from every other police officer you’ve ever met.’

  ‘Yeah. No. Maybe.’ Narima was right. She’d found herself reacting to his gaze, his touch, his body in a way that was unfamiliar and unexpected.

  ‘C’mon, Mara. I’m going to give you some tough love now. You ready?’

  ‘Ready as I’ll ever be.’

  ‘Toughen up, princess. There. That’s my tough love. A nice man is offering to cook you dinner and then provide fireworks after. First world problem, much? Enjoy this. He sees something in you. You obviously see something in him. Can’t two single people enjoy each other’s company on the last day of the year?’

  Mara had to admit that Narima was right. Why couldn’t two people—a cop and a chalkie—drink in the new year together?

  Wait a second. Mara’s mind began to spin at a mile a minute. Why hadn’t she thought of this before?

  George was a cop. Abbie was still missing. Maybe she could pick his brain about Abbie, see if any angles had been missed by the useless plodder she’d been dealing with over her disappearance. But she wasn’t going to tell Narima that just now. Narima already thought she was hanging on too tight to something she couldn’t do anything about.

  Mara sighed. ‘You’re right. I’m just going to relax and go on this date.’

  ‘Good. Now, you need to stop panicking about it. You’re smart, fantastic dinner company and you’re gorgeous. But here’s the most important thing: don’t forget to shave your legs.’

  ‘That’s your advice? Shave my legs?’

  ‘Of course! Not that I, for one second, think you’ll have any of that cop’s tall, dark and handsome body rubbing up against you, but if you don’t shave your legs you’ll feel them all night and you’ll be anxious about the prickles.’

  Mara laughed. ‘You are hilarious.’

  ‘And I love you. Have fun. Send me a photo of what you’re planning to wear and I’ll say yes to the dress. Or not.’

  ‘Promise.’ Mara paused. ‘And, Narima?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘You haven’t heard anything more about Abbie?’

  Narima sighed. Mara didn’t have to see her friend’s face to know what that meant. ‘Not a word. All you can do is keep positive thoughts for her, okay?’

  They said their goodbyes. Mara didn’t want to tell Narima that all the positive thoughts in the world hadn’t made a difference so far.

  Abbie was still missing.

  Chapter Eight

  When George heard the knock at the door, he tossed the kitchen sponge in the sink and with a quick glance was finally satisfied the place looked tidy and clean.

  He’d spent the afternoon shopping and tidying the house, vacuuming Fluffy’s hair from the carpet and scrubbing the kitchen. He wasn’t a slob by any stretch, but he hadn’t given Karen’s place a good go-over since he’d arrived more than a week ago. He’d set the table already, with gleaming wine glasses and a bunch of flowers in the middle. There was a bottle of Australian bubbles in the fridge—he remembered what she’d said about the French kind—and a couple of Wagyu beef steaks were on the counter slowly thawing to room temperature. He was no gourmet chef but he could cook a mean steak. A cheese platter sat on the kitchen counter, and the soft cheese was already oozing into the sultanas, almonds and crackers alongside it.

  As George padded through the living room on bare feet, he rubbed a hand back and forth over his hair and angled his head from side to side to loosen the tension in his shoulders. He’d been looking forward to this. Spending time with Mara. A warm night, champagne, and fireworks. There was something he wanted to explore with her, an urge to know more about this woman. It was something he hadn’t felt in a long while.

  He opened the door, hoping he was smiling, then made sure he was.

  The look on Mara’s face snapped him to attention.

  He reached an arm out to her and put his hand on her forearm. ‘What’s happened, Mara?’

  She looked like she’d seen a ghost. ‘I … I need your help.’

  ‘Of course. What is it?’

  ‘It’s a long story but we’ve got to leave right now. I’ll tell you everything while we’re driving up to Adelaide.’

  * * *

  As they drove out of Remarkable Bay and took the main road up to Adelaide, Mara clutched her phone, desperate for another message.

  Ms Blumberg. I’m in trouble. I don’t know what to do.

  Mara’s phone had beeped with an incoming text while she’d been driving to George’s place. As soon as she’d pulled up in front of the small and neat beach house, she’d taken her phone from the pocket in her handbag and checked the message. She’d expected it to be Narima sending her some last-minute tips.

  ‘Abbie.’ She’d shuddered when she’d seen the name pop up on the screen. She hadn’t heard from her since she’d disappeared. She wanted to text back Call the police now but she knew Abbie wouldn’t. She didn’t trust them, either.

  Where are you? I’ll come and get you.

  A minute later, Abbie had texted back half an address: a number and a street name but no suburb. Mara didn’t recognise it, and tried not to think the worst about what Abbie had been doing and where she’d been all this time. Sleeping rough? Couch surfing? Who was she with? What else had happened to her?

  In that moment, sitting in her car in George’s driveway, there had been only one person she could think of to help her. And that person was George Gray. If Abbie was in trouble, Mara knew she couldn’t go by herself to rescue her. She’d need help.

  ‘Any more messages?’ George asked, glancing at the phone clutched in Mara’s hand. The sun was setting low in the sky and Mara repositioned the visor so it didn’t hit her eyes.

  ‘No. But we’ve got an address. That’s the most important thing, right?’

  ‘That’s right,’ George answered. ‘I’ve punched it into the GPS. It’s in the city, in the south-west corner of the square mile.’ He paused and she felt his eyes on her. ‘This is probably the time to tell me. What’s this girl’s story, Mara?’

  Mara looked out the car window, at the rows and rows of grapevines in full leaf along either side of the main road that skirted through Willunga. ‘Abbie is a student of mine. Or was. She was supposed to have finished Year Twelve this year. She’s such a great kid. So smart. But it turns out she’s been putting up with so much at home, hiding so much … When she finally told me about what had been happening to her at the hands of her new stepfather … god, it was heartbreaking. It was the first time I’ve wanted to hurt someone, you know?’

  ‘I take it you went straight to the police when she told you. Being her teacher, you’d be required under child protection laws to report it immediately.’

  ‘And of course I did that. I went str
aight to the principal and told her and then everything kicked into action. That same day. Almost that same hour. She was always our number one priority.’

  ‘And the stepfather was arrested?’

  Mara felt hot tears on her cheeks. ‘He denied everything and Abbie ran away before the police could question her.’

  ‘So they had no witnesses? What about the mother?’

  Mara shook her head. ‘And that’s what I can’t understand. She denied it, accused Abbie of lying. How could a mother not stand up for her own daughter? Even if she didn’t know before, once she knew …’

  George glanced up at the rear-view mirror. ‘This kind of abuse and violence is usually inflicted on more than one person in a family. The mother’s most likely a victim, too.’

  Mara thought over what George had said. She’d never met Abbie’s mother. She’d never made appointments at parent-teacher interview nights, and Mara had never had any concerns about Abbie’s schoolwork, so they’d never crossed paths. ‘That makes it even more awful, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Yeah. It does.’

  She nodded and then turned her gaze from the road to look at him. He was looking at her, too. His jaw tight, his mouth serious and his eyes dark. His hands gripped the steering wheel and he sat right on the speed limit, steady and controlled.

  ‘I’m so sorry about this,’ she said. ‘Dragging you from your holiday. It’s just … I didn’t know who else to ask.’

  ‘It’s what I do, Mara. You were right to ask me.’

  They drove in silence for a while and it wasn’t as awkward as Mara thought it might have been. When they’d had Christmas lunch together, they’d tried to fill the empty space. Now, they knew they didn’t have to. Tonight was supposed to have been a date—dinner and champagne and perhaps some laughs, and who knows if they would have kissed at the stroke of midnight. It would have been nice to have someone to kiss at midnight.

  But all those thoughts vanished. Finding Abbie was more important than any of that. They had an hour-long drive and Mara had to distract herself from thinking the worst. She turned in her seat.

  ‘Your place at Remarkable Bay seems nice. The place you’re staying at, I mean.’

  George glanced at her, and there was a hint of a smile on his face. Maybe he needed to think about something else, too.

  ‘Yeah, it is. Karen hasn’t done much to it. It’s pretty simple.’

  ‘How do you know her?’

  ‘She’s my patrol partner.’

  ‘Is she on holidays?’

  George stared ahead through the windscreen. He cleared his throat. ‘She’s in rehab. In Melbourne.’

  ‘Oh. God.’ Mara swallowed hard. Was it that tough to be a cop these days? ‘Good for her. I mean, that she’s asked for help. That must be hard for someone in uniform.’

  George quickly turned to her. He looked surprised, as if he’d been expecting judgement instead of sympathy. ‘She’s had a rough road.’

  ‘What happened to her? Was it something on the job?’ Mara asked.

  His eyes didn’t leave the road ahead of them. ‘A guy was about to shoot me. She stepped in front and got hit instead.’

  Mara’s hand flew to her mouth and she gasped. ‘That’s … that’s horrible.’

  ‘So the least I can do is look after her place and the dog until she gets home.’

  ‘How long does rehab take?’

  ‘She’s with her folks up in Adelaide now for Christmas but she’ll be home in a few days. She’s been gone almost three months.’

  ‘I hope she’s better, George.’

  ‘So do I,’ he said quietly.

  * * *

  It was dark when they arrived in Adelaide. They drove up West Terrace through the ring of parklands that surrounded the city, turned right into South Terrace and then left into Morphett Street. From there, George turned left again into a small side street and slowed. The voice from the GPS told them they had reached their destination.

  ‘I know this place,’ George said quietly. ‘It’s a homeless shelter.’

  He pulled up across the road and cut the engine. Mara clutched her phone and began to shake with relief. Abbie was at a shelter. At least she was somewhere safe. This second. This moment. Mara couldn’t think about where she’d been for the past three months.

  George laid a hand on hers. ‘You okay?’

  There was such a strong, steady calmness about him. It was exactly what she needed when all she felt inside was turmoil. ‘Yeah. I’m okay.’ She waved her phone. ‘Do you think I should call her or should we just go in?’

  He glanced at the entrance to the shelter. The old red brick building, which looked like it had once been a factory, was almost set on the footpath and to the left there was a walkway which led down one side to what seemed to be the front door. People were milling around and the sound of live music, guitars, wafted out to the street through the open windows.

  ‘Looks like they’re having a New Year’s Eve party,’ he said, with a hint of humour in his voice, the first she’d heard for the whole trip. They shared a knowing look.

  ‘That’s nice, isn’t it?’ she said.

  ‘Why don’t you try calling her?’ George suggested. ‘If we walk in there together, it might upset people.’

  ‘How can they know you’re a cop? You’re not even wearing a uniform or carrying a gun or anything.’ She glanced at his hip. ‘You’re not carrying a gun, are you?’

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘No. Not on holidays. It’s safely locked away at the station.’

  ‘Right.’ Mara realised she’d been watching too many crime dramas.

  George cocked his head in the direction of the shelter. ‘You ever been in somewhere like that before?’

  ‘No, I haven’t. And it wasn’t until this very moment that I realise how lucky that makes me.’

  ‘Here’s my plan. They’ll smell cop on me a mile away. They’re vulnerable people who may or may not have been in trouble with the police before. If we can, let’s leave them be to enjoy their party. Call Abbie. If she comes out, good. If there’s something about doing that that makes her feel unsafe, we’ll go in.’

  ‘Okay.’ Mara dialled Abbie’s number. She waited until it rang out. ‘No answer.’

  ‘Try texting her. She might not want to answer the phone. Tell her we’re in a silver Pajero.’

  Mara’s fingers flew over the screen on her phone. She was so nervous she had to start again.

  ‘Done.’

  They waited, their eyes trained on the entrance of the building across the road.

  ‘What does she look like?’ George asked.

  ‘Abbie? She’s tall and athletic. She played on the school cricket team. She’s got long blonde hair.’

  Applause drifted out to the street.

  ‘What if she’s gone?’ Mara whispered. ‘What if we’re too late?’

  ‘Hold on.’ George’s back straightened in the driver’s seat. His whole body language changed. He became tense, every muscle coiled, as if he was about to spring out of the car.

  ‘Don’t react, Mara.’ His voice was quiet, steel-edged. ‘Stay completely relaxed and still. Don’t look until I tell you to. There’s a young woman walking out now. She’s tall, she looks panicked but she has very short black hair. Could that be Abbie?’

  Mara did as George asked. She took a moment before she glanced across the road.

  ‘Yes! That’s her. That’s Abbie.’

  ‘Wait here.’ George opened the door and stepped out. He stood there, resting an arm on the open door.

  Mara shifted so she could see past George. He waited until Abbie looked across the street and then he waved. She looked back over her shoulder and then bolted to the car.

  Chapter Nine

  Abbie slammed the rear passenger door closed behind her so hard it shook the car. She looked wild. She was panting and shaking. ‘Ms Blumberg,’ she gasped and then burst into tears.

  Mara had spun around in her seat. ‘Abbie, you’re safe
now. This is my friend George. I asked him to come up to Adelaide with me tonight in case I needed help looking for you.’ Mara tried to reconcile her memory of Abbie with the girl sitting in the back seat of George’s car. It wasn’t just her hair. She was thin and pale. Wide-eyed and coiled in fear.

  Abbie leaned forward and clutched the back of George’s seat. ‘Drive,’ she shouted. ‘Please just drive. Jared thinks I’ve gone to the toilet. He’ll come looking for me. Go!’

  George started the car, planted his foot on the accelerator and they took off.

  * * *

  Half an hour later they were on the Southern Expressway, the main road leading south out of Adelaide, and heading back down to Remarkable Bay. It was ten p.m. The roads were busy with people heading out to New Year’s Eve celebrations. Some of the driving was already pretty celebratory, and George drove as cautiously as the police officer he was. Mara was glad of the normality of wheels humming on the road, the settled air in the car, the soft music coming from the radio. She looked to the back seat. Abbie’s head was slumped against the window. She’d been asleep for fifteen minutes.

  Mara’s thoughts had been spinning around in her head like clothes in a tumble dryer since they’d sped off from the shelter. Where had Abbie been all this time? What trouble was she in? Who was Jared?

  ‘Mara,’ George said quietly.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Who’s Jared?’

  ‘I don’t know. But she seems terrified of him, doesn’t she?’ Mara had racked her brain trying to figure out who he might be. The name didn’t ring a bell from Abbie’s circle of friends at school.

  They stopped at a set of traffic lights and a car pulled up next to them. The thud thud thud of loud music made them both turn. There were four young people inside the small hatchback, happy and laughing, singing along to the music. Four young friends heading out to celebrate the last day of the year. That’s what Abbie’s life should be, Mara thought. Not this. Not being rescued from a man she was afraid of, a man she had to lie to so she could escape him.

  ‘She can stay with me tonight.’