Page 36 of The Vanishing Place
All the way through dinner, Dad’s and June’s eyes never met. Then June declared it a no-bath night. She and Effie got the young ones ready for bed, then June read stories in the sleeping nook before kissing them all good night. Dad didn’t touch Four even once. After tucking Aiden in, Effie hurried off to the bedroom, forgetting to brush her teeth, and closed the door. Then she sat on the floor, running her tongue over her furry teeth, and waited with one ear to the door.
“Five days,” said June in a shouted whisper. “Five days, you said. It’s been over a month. A month since you walked out on your kids. I didn’t know if you were coming back. I wasn’t sure if…”
June’s voice trailed off and the front door slammed.
After a few minutes of silence, Effie eased the bedroom door open and slipped out. She crawled over to the window and peered through the glass, the summer evening still light. As she spotted them, her heart beat against her ribs and she had to stuff her fingers into her mouth to stop from yelling out.
Dad lunged forward and grabbed June’s arm. He tugged at her, dragging her away, and June stumbled behind him. She swatted at him with her free hand. A fly swatting a mountain.
Oh god. Oh god.
Effie stared at the scene, at the fear etched into June’s face and the man wearing Dad’s clothes—the man who’d put Mum in the ground.
“Stop,” June yelled. “Stop.”
Panic flooded Effie’s brain and she slid to the floor. The dad outside wasn’t hers. He’d come back different. Effie pushed a palm into her chest, trying to slow the pounding. Then a sharp noise split the air, and she turned and pulled herself back up to the window. The air ripped again. The crack of splintering wood, followed by the screech of June’s voice.
“Stop!”
Effie pressed her face to the glass. But June was alone. Unhurt. Dad stood a few meters away, punching one of the vegetable cages. He hit it so hard that the frame cracked and a piece of wood flew across the grass. He kept punching and kicking at it until the heavy wooden frame lay in sticks on the ground. Even from the window, Effie could see the blood dripping down his knuckles. When the final piece fell, Dad collapsed to his knees, and a noise like nothing she’d ever heard burst from him. It scared Effie more than the smashed wood.
June walked over and knelt next to him. She put an arm around his shoulders, and Dad, Effie’s mountain, buried his face into June’s body and wept.
Without making a sound, Effie inched the door open, just enough to let the sounds and the whispers of the bush leak in. The song of a bellbird carried through the air as Dad lifted his head and stared at June. His voice, small and broken, caught in the breeze.
“I can’t find her.”
Effie frowned. Dad was confused. Of course he knew. It was Dad who’d put Mum in the dirt. He knew exactly where she was.
“I’m so sorry.” He lowered his head again. “I’ve lost her.”
Then June started to cry too.
Effie wanted to run out, to sprint across the grass and grab Dad’s hand. She wanted to take him into the bush, to the mound of earth with Mum sleeping underneath.
Look, look. She’s here. Mum’s here.
But Effie didn’t move.
2025
Effie stood inthe doorway and watched the child sleep.
It hurt to watch her, like looking back in time.
Anya had pulled the covers from the single bed and arranged them on the floor. She was coiled up in the corner with a wall of pillows around her, safe in her alcove. Next to the bedding, the child had set out two pots of herbs taken from June’s kitchen.Mint. It was a smell that lived inside Effie, the cool fresh scent blended with memories of Mum and the Before years.
“Come on.” June motioned to Effie. “Let’s have some tea.”
Effie followed her through to the living room, where Lewis was waiting, and she sat in the chair farthest from him. If she got too close, she couldn’t think.
“She’s still sleeping?” he asked.
“Yeah.” Effie gave a half smile. “She’s exhausted.”
After the incident with the TV, Effie had carried Anya through to her bed. But when Effie had gone to check on her half an hour later, she’d been on the floor.
“Sorry,” said Lewis, looking at June. “About the TV.”
