She shook his hand. It was calloused, perhaps from chopping firewood. “Friend . . . We’ve just met. Could you tell us where we are?”
“Yes, certainly. You’re not far from your granddad’s place—just more into the bush, more concealed. Really in the thick of it, so to speak. That’s the way I like it.’
“How do you know Gramps?”
“We came across each other out here in the bush. Our friendship grew through many walks. We both had secrets and kept them to ourselves for many years but over time we came to trust each other. And he has told me about his past and your mum’s situation.”
Secrets? “Mum’s situation?” Isabella was spooked.
“People were after your mum, Isabella.”
“Why?” Isabella said. She looked at Lucas, who seemed to be sizing up this man.
“Do you know why?” Lucas asked.
“She was onto something and got to the point where she could trust nobody except her Dad.”
“Onto something?” Isabella asked.
“Your granddad told me what a clever woman your mum was. And I could believe that, after your granddad confided in me some of the things he got up to.” He shrugged. “Come, let’s go to the lounge room. It’s warmer.”
They followed him into a large room that was indeed warmer and was a combination of lounge, dining, and kitchen. A pot-belly stove sat in the far corner of the room, its shape resembling the man. There were books everywhere, on the timber floor, on the timber table, on the lounge chairs. There were also sketches of birds on loose pieces of paper.
Black pulled out a chair from under the table and gestured for them to do the same. Isabella had to remove a book from her chair. The title included the words End Times. That fitted in with the feel of the place. She showed the cover to Lucas, who looked puzzled. She placed the book on the table.
“Yep, your mum was a smart lady. And that’s why you’re here. She discovered something. I don’t know what, but I know your granddad feared for her life and put a strategy into place to action in the event of your mother’s death and the authorities catching up with him. I was part of the strategy, and sadly, your granddad was right. But you had to be protected. That’s the role of your friend Lucas, and to a lesser extent, me.”
Black got up from his seat and walked over to the sink. He poured some water in a kettle placed it on top of the pot-belly. He came back and sat down.
“I knew things were happening. The sound of the helicopter hovering near your granddad’s property was loud. This house shook from the noise. They finally got him. He knew that would eventually happen, too.” Black turned towards Lucas. “Do you have some notes with you?”
“Yep, they’re actually funny sheets, in the briefcase.”
“You may want to go and get them.”
Lucas hesitated and then got up. Isabella watched him leave the room. She felt uneasy sitting alone with this man.
“You hungry? Let me make you some French toast. It’s one of my specialities although I like to call it eggy bread. It goes by a few other names and I eat it any time of the day. You can tell I’ve been living by myself for too long. What a boring subject: French toast.
At least he was trying. And she was a bit peckish.
“Yes, that would be nice. Tell me another name.”
“Spanish toast. See it’s not really French. Think of French fries. They’re not French. It’s just a name someone picked up somewhere.”
Isabella smiled. He was harmless. “But you know French fries are different to the big fat chips, so maybe there is a connection. A French connection.” With that, Isabella thought of Mrs Perdu—she was not harmless. Isabella felt her chest tightening.
32 – Hello pressure
IT WAS OBVIOUS THEY WERE TIRED from their adventure—or misadventure. James Black gave the girl the spare room and the man took the couch. He heard the girl sneezing for a while, but what could he do? She accepted a box of tissues with a smile and a red nose. When sleep did come upon them, they slept long and deep.
James was jittery but calm enough to make them breakfast. The girl recommended eggy bread to her friend, who seemed famished and apologised for the amount of toast he ate. Black’s encounters with people were normally outside on the deck and were normally just with Pops—the girl’s granddad—who only made the occasional trip inside to the toilet. Now he had strangers in his house, and how long were they going to be here?
Black wasn’t sure what to do. He had offered to help his friend but now that reality had set in he wasn’t sure if he was up to it. She was a pretty thing. Looked a little like his own daughter—then again, most girls he saw reminded him of his daughter—familiarity, all to do with comforting his ego from his past shipwreck of a life. He messed up that relationship and had a continual ache in his heart. He realised a benefit of being isolated would be no triggers setting off emotions attached to memories sitting in the grey matter above his shoulder.
That Lucas fellow also looked familiar. It’s because you’re a visual person, Jimmy. You see things others don’t, so chill because you don’t know him. He shuddered. They must have left the door open. As he walked towards the door he had the urge to turn around. He sensed something in the room, but nothing other than an empty room.
He decided he might have to stop reading some of the books, particularly the ones which spooked him, the ones about demons. Those books gave him uneasy feelings, akin to what he felt now.
At the door he looked out and saw them sitting wrapped up in blankets on the old picnic table. Their footprints trailed behind them in the dew of the grass. Crazy to be sitting outside, but maybe they wanted some privacy. He closed the door.
Still feeling uneasy, he walked down the passageway peering in each of the rooms, chastising himself as he went. He stared in the room where the girls’ belonging were. Things thrown on the bed. Pills in their blister packaging. The empty box the pills came from on the floor. What was she taking pills for? He picked up the box and read the description—some kind of antidepressant with a black box warning about the increased risk of suicidal thoughts with taking this medication. Crazy—they were meant to help. He noticed the Perdu@ logo and that the ‘at’ sign was without an address. Maybe the @ stood for something else. Perdu was a different name but he’d seen it before: Pain Perdu, another name for French toast.
He turned quickly. No one there. Something wasn’t right. He told his imagination to back off.
The pills—after so many years. He sensed it, something pushing its way through his thoughts. Whispers.
You’re still there aren’t you?
<°)))><
Isabella was rugged up in the blanket and stared at the steam coming out of the cup. She heard the back door close.
“Think we forgot to shut the door, Bella,” Lucas said.
Isabella nodded. “Oops, sorry. Last thing on my mind.” An eagle soaring high above caught her attention. “Look at that, Lucas. How graceful.” As if in tune with Isabella’s thoughts, the great bird turned to show its immense wingspan and commenced gliding. No effort at all.
“This place is certainly well concealed. Only eagles can see us. Your gramps really thought through the situation we were going to be in. Pity I’ve yet to work it out. Why are people after you, Isabella?”
