Page 19 of The Vanishing Place
“I can hear it.” Tia’s arm started to shake. “I can hear it.”
“Come on.”
Effie pulled at her sister, following the faint wooden raindrops, and they ran around the back of the hut to the vegetable garden.
They stopped dead at the same time, hands entwined, and Effie felt the pulse of her sister’s heart. There had never been anyone else at the hut. No one was allowed, Dad said. The hut was a special place just for them.A secret. But she was there, sitting next to Mum’s mint plants. Her head and body were turned, but her familiar white hair hung down her back, a waterfall of silver. Like she could be a witch.
Effie bit into her cheeks, not knowing what to do, not knowing how to fix this wrong, forbidden thing. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him.
Aiden.
Her little brother, only two and a half, was kneeling among the lettuces and the zucchini leaves. His face was screwed up in a look of concentration as his little fingers dug in the dirt.
“What’s June doing here?” Tia whispered.
Then the woman turned, her long wavy hair almost reaching her waist—the roots bright white but the ends dark silver—and she smiled at them. But it was like her eyes and mouth didn’t match. Her smile was warm (like when she snuck them Pineapple Lumps from her pockets), but her eyes were sad. And there, bundled up in a shawl and held to June’s chest, was the baby. On the ground was an empty milk bottle.
“Give him back,” Effie demanded. She took a few steps toward June and made her face serious, like Mum did when they were in trouble. “He’s ours.”
“I know, sweetheart.” June lifted the baby and set him in Effie’s arms. “I was just letting you girls sleep.”
Tia inched out from behind Effie’s legs, her voice small and timid. “Did you bring us candy?” she asked.
“I did.” June smiled, but it made her eyes look sadder. “Would you like one?”
Tia nodded and scurried over to her. They knew her, the woman with the long witch hair; they saw her every time they went to Koraha. Mum and Dad always visited her house. Dad did loads of jobs when they went on their trips to town—building and fixing things—and people shoved money into his rough hands. There was always something broken at June’s house, so Dad would sort it and Mum would drink tea on June’s deck. Then Dad would take her money, and June would sneak Tangy Fruits and Snifters from her pockets.
Effie patted the baby and jiggled him. It was strange seeing June in the bush. She looked too old to be there.
“How old are you?” asked Effie.
June looked up, with Tia sat on one of her knees and Aiden on the other. They were both sucking on lollipops. Sugary yuck, Mum said, full of rubbish.
“You look old,” said Effie.
The woman smiled at that. “I’ll be fifty come winter.”
“Why are you here? No one’s meant to be here. It’s private.”
“Your dad just needed a bit of help after everything that happened.”
Dad.
“Where is he?” Effie held the baby tight, her voice getting louder. “Where’s my dad?”
“He’ll be here soon. He’s just busy. He’s sorting something.” June’s voice sounded odd, like when Dad lied to Tia about killing possums.
“Busy doing what?” Effie shouted. “What’s he doing? Tell me!”
“Effie, maybe you should—”
“Where’s my dad?” Her body shook, her insides hot and jittery, and the young ones inched back from her, moving farther into the curve of June’s lap.
“Sweetheart, why don’t you give the baby to me and we can—”
“No.” Effie jerked back.
The baby cried then, his face bright red, and his trembling body scared her. Effie pressed a hand against his back, their hearts racing together. She was afraid that she might break him, the ugly little thing, more yellow than white, that was part made of her. His slimy red hair was hers, and his angry little frown. Effie swallowed down a salty sob.
