The Family Next Door(72)

He only had eyes for Essie.





57


BARBARA


Barbara snaked through the streets of St. Kilda, wondering what to do. She’d been forced to head all the way back to Melbourne because of the bushfires, but what had she been doing here in the first place? And why didn’t she remember coming here?

Maybe she had Alzheimer’s? As horrible as that would be, at least it might be some kind of explanation for what was going on. She didn’t want to admit it, but the longer she drove in this heat, the more frightened she became. She pulled the car to the side of the road and tried to decide where to go. A hotel? A bed-and-breakfast?

“Can we go on a twam ride, Gran?” Essie asked. She pointed a chubby finger at the tram that wove down the street they were on. “Please?”

Her eyes were two shining beacons.

“Not right now, honey. I have to figure out where we need to go first.”

Barbara looked around. Nothing looked familiar, but then again, she hadn’t spent a lot of time in Melbourne before. Her aunt Esther lived in Melbourne, but it had been a while since Barbara had visited her. Barbara glanced over her shoulder. There was a tourist information booth a few meters up, on the opposite side of the road. She’d go there, she decided. They’d know what to do. They might even have information on the bushfires and tell her when she could get back on the road to Sydney.

“Please, Gran?” Essie said. “Please can we go on the twam?”

“No, sweetie,” she said. “Just stay here for a moment. I’m going to talk to the people at that booth.”

And she got out of the car.

Two minutes later she got back into the car with the name of a hostel and a bushfire update.

“Is your seat belt on?” she asked, turning around. But Essie wasn’t there.

“Essie?” Barbara twisted to look in both foot wells. They were empty. “Essie!”

Panic rose in Barbara’s throat. She jumped out of the car and scanned the sidewalk but there was no sign of a child in either direction. Suddenly a car’s brakes screeched. Barbara gasped. Essie was on the road; a car hurtled toward her. It happened in an instant. Barbara stepped off the pavement and bolted, narrowly missing a car coming in the opposite direction. She caught Essie around the waist and heaved them both off the road and onto the tram tracks. This was the superhuman strength mothers talked about having when they saw their child in danger. This was it.

We’re okay, she thought. We’re okay.

On the tram tracks, they stood, catching their breath—their hearts pounding as one.

“Gran,” Essie said, sobbing.

“Shh. It’s all right,” Barbara said. The sun beat down on them. She needed to get them both to a hotel and give Essie a nice cool bath. Some clean clothes. And a nice long sleep.

She lifted Essie safely onto the island platform and that’s when she heard the commotion start up again. More brakes screeching. What now? Barbara thought. “Ma’am!” came a voice. Barbara glanced around.

And then the tram came.





58


ESSIE


As she rested her head against the wall of her hospital room, Essie had an overwhelming feeling that this was penance. She’d left her daughter once before—in a park of all places—and as punishment, she’d been taken from her. It was karma, pure and simple. Ben was pacing the hall with Polly and Isabelle stood by the window. The police had left, or maybe they were out in the hallway, Essie didn’t know. She found it hard to concentrate on what everyone else was doing when her little girl was missing.

Missing. Essie had no idea how to react to that word. It wasn’t as though Mia had been snatched by a stranger. She was with her grandmother, for heaven’s sake! Then again, Essie didn’t know if that was true. Was Barbara her grandmother? Was she Essie’s mother?

Would she ever see Mia again?

The police seemed to think she would. They reassured her with all sorts of stories—misunderstandings!—involving children who were returned home by the end of the day. They were confident this was one of those cases. But Essie was anything but confident. She wanted nothing more than to find her mother, to sort this whole situation out. At the same time, a thought hovered at the edges of her consciousness—if her mother was capable of taking Essie, and never returning her—if—what did that mean for Mia?

Essie let out an involuntary sob. She felt Isabelle stand and move to her side at the same time as there was a tap at the door, and a policeman walked in.

Essie sat up. “Is there news?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Essie scanned his face. It wasn’t the relieved, delighted face of an officer coming to tell a mother everything was all right. She wasn’t sure what kind of face it was. “Have you found Mia?” she asked tremulously.

“We have.”

Essie felt a flicker of hope. “Is she all right?”

“She’s absolutely fine. Not a scratch on her.”

Ben melted at the news. He fell to his knees, with Polly still in his arms. But Essie kept looking at the police officer.

“And my … mum?” she asked in a small voice. It felt wrong to ask, as if asking was a betrayal to Isabelle. To Mia. At the same time she had to ask.

“Well,” he said, “that’s a little more complicated. You see…”