Page 22 of The Vanishing Place
With the time difference, she’d lost most of a day—as well as the motivation to watch another second of in-flight entertainment. She was also pretty sure that she smelled. Thirty-seven hours, and three flights, was too long to exist in recirculated air.
She barely remembered the long journey to Scotland nearly two decades ago, but there was a lot about that week that she’d blocked out.
Rubbing her eyes, her body clock somewhere in the middle of the night, she peered out the glass at the bright afternoon sky. As the sun caught on the snow-capped peaks, a rush of heat spread through her chest, and she swallowed the lump in her throat. It was truly beautiful. Breathtaking.
Home.
For more than half her life she’d lived on the other side of the earth. But home—the sense of belonging that hung heavy in her bones—was down there, beneath the clouds. The bush had never left her—it had lain dormant in her core, no matter how deep she’d buried it.
The Southern Alps spread out below her, infinite and spectacular, as the plane dipped toward Queenstown Airport. The peaks of the Remarkables poked out through a basin of thick white clouds like a snapshot from aNational Geographicmagazine. Effie kept her fingers to the window as the plane sank into the clouds and the world disappeared. Nothing. Just a wall of white mist. Then, miraculously, the clouds parted and a long strip of water appeared between the mountains—the lake leading all the way to the airport. It wasn’t until the wheels thudded on the runway that Effie realized she’d been holding her breath. Up there, looking down, she’d kept picturing them. Somewhere in the vast expanse of bush, hidden in the trees.
What happened to you, Tia?
Where are you?
Effie closed her eyes as she stepped off the plane and inhaled the warm spring air, letting it soothe her. By the time she’d made it through customs and ordered a coffee, she was fine. She found a seat at the Patagonia café, sat down with her long black and a sandwich, and logged on to the Wi-Fi. Within seconds, her WhatsApp started beeping, making Effie smile. She took a sip from her cup and started scrolling through the messages—all from Blair.
Are you there? Message me as soon as you land. x
And when you get to Koraha. x
Is the coffee good? I’ve heard that Kiwis make a good coffee. They invented the flat white apparently. Who knew? x
Google says that you can bring your OWN WINE to restaurants. I knew I should have gone with you. x
Miss you. Love you. x Ewan (big soppy weirdo) says he loves you too. x
Ewan says no great loss with Greg. Apparently he always thought Greg was too short for you. x
Ewan says you should find a hot Kiwi barista. x
Ewan is now trying to make me a flat white. x
According to Qantas, you should be in Queenstown. Message me. x (Ewan’s flat white was bloody good—don’t tell him though, I’ve told him he needs to keep practicing.)
Rimu is doing great. Doesn’t miss you at all. Think we’ll keep him. x
Effie rolled her eyes. Blair would be spoiling Rimu rotten. Ewan probably even more so; he was a giant softy. Effie liked Ewan. He and Blair had tied the knot just over a year ago at a small ceremony at Fairy Glen. There had been a lot of umbrellas and a lot of whisky. Effie smiled as she typed a reply.
I’m officially in New Zealand and I can confirm that the coffee is fantastic. Unfortunately, the barista is wearing a wedding ring. I’m just grabbing a quick bite then I’ll drive to Koraha. About 3 hours.
Blair replied immediately.
Are you sure you should be driving?
Slept surprisingly well. Had 3 seats to myself from Dubai. Isn’t it like 3 a.m. in Scotland? GO TO BED!
Will you see Lewis today?
Go to sleep. Love you. Say hi to Ewan and Rimu. x
Don’t let Rimu sleep in your bed. x
Too latex
Effie slipped the phone back into her pocket and sipped her coffee, which she had to admit was extremely good. There was probably even a coffee shop in Koraha now. But other than that, she doubted Koraha would have changed much—that was how the West Coast worked. The same small town. The same people. People who believed that Effie was still missing—the bush girl who’d vanished into the trees.
She chewed on the end of her thumb. Returning to Koraha was risky. Effie knew that, and so did Lewis. Going back meant exposing what Lewis had done all those years ago.
