Page 33 of The Vanishing Place
June grinned. “Well, that’s a lie, dear.”
“I’m not—”
June held her hands up. “No judgment here. Nothing wrong with a wee lie to get us through the tough stuff.”
June nodded as Anya lifted up a dark blue dress.
“How is he?” said Effie eventually. “Lewis, I mean. How’s he been?”
“You know what men are like. Never give much away.”
“But…” Effie picked at her fingers. “He’s happy? Settled?”
June’s expression was hard to place.
“You’d have to ask his wife that, love.”
Wife.
“Lewis is married?”
June’s eyes remained focused on the girl. “Charlotte. A nice girl. A primary teacher from Christchurch. They met when Lewis was working there.”
“Lewis lived in Christchurch?”
“Seventeen years is a long time, dear. Things change.”
Effie swallowed the shake in her voice. “He doesn’t wear a ring.”
“It’s complicated,” June said. “And long distance is hard.”
“She still lives in Christchurch?”
June nodded. “Koraha isn’t for everyone.”
“Why didn’t Lewis stay in Christchurch?”
June turned and looked at her. “You’d have to ask Lewis that.” She took another sip of her tea, then turned back to watch the girl. “Oh, I like that one. The green will go nicely with her hair.”
Anya placed the dress on top of the pile, and a quiet settled in the air.
“I think I might go for a run,” said Effie. “Fight off the jet lag. Would you mind…”
June squeezed Effie’s arm. “Off you go. We’ll be just grand.” She nodded at the keys on the kitchen bench. “Take the ute and head up to Monro Beach. It’s a nice path through the bush, and you’ll have the place to yourself.”
“Thanks.”
“Take a couple of hours,” said June. “I can call Lewis if I need anything. Then when you get back, we’re going to have to face this thing head-on.”
—
As the light splintered through the bush, Effie was a kid of seven years old again, encased in a sphere of green. In a world of matai and kahikatea trees. Huge ferns poured down from the skies, the dead fronds forming skirts around the thin trunks, the bark turned olive by a covering of moss and leaves.
Effie’s feet pounded into the ground as she sped up, trying not to put a face to Charlotte’s name, but her throat and lungs stung with the effort.Lewis has a wife. Effie kept pushing until her head throbbed and her breath exploded in jagged gasps, and she spat into the dirt. But she couldn’t outrun it—the thought of Lewis, and the images of what the girl might have witnessed.
The track started to climb slightly, the fire building in Effie’s calves. But she kept running, one foot in front of the other, her mind filled with Tia and the young ones as the path descended into a shallow gully. Tia was there, in her every breath.
What happened to you?
