Page 15 of The Missing Sister

‘Hellooo!’ Chrissie called as they drew closer, and eventually a man – who was broad-shouldered and probably in his mid-sixties – looked up and waved at them from what was clearly a vegetable patch. ‘Maybe he’s expecting us.’

‘Or maybe he’s just friendly. Didn’t you notice that everyone in the passing cars waved at us too?’ said CeCe.

‘Hello, girls,’ said the man, leaning on his spade as they approached him. ‘What can I do for the two of youse?’ he asked in a pronounced Australian accent.

‘Uh, yeah, hi. Do you, um, live here? I mean, is this your house?’ CeCe asked.

‘It is, yeah. And you are?’

‘I’m CeCe and this is my friend Chrissie. We’re looking for a woman – in fact, two women: one called Bridget Dempsey and the other called Mary – or Merry – McDougal. Do you know either of them?’

‘I most certainly do,’ the man nodded. ‘Especially Bridge. She’s my missus.’

‘Great! That’s fantastic. Are they in?’

‘I’m afraid not, girls. They’ve both buggered off to Sydney, leaving me all on my lonesome.’

‘You’re joking!’ CeCe muttered to Chrissie. ‘We could’ve flown straight there. Merry’s daughter, Mary-Kate, said she wasn’t flying out until tomorrow.’

‘She’s right,’ said the man. ‘Merry was staying here, but she suddenly changed her mind and suggested that she and Bridge get the afternoon flight to Sydney, so they could spend what they called a “girls’ night” together in the big city and do some shopping.’

‘Shit,’ CeCe said. ‘That’s a shame, because we’ve come a long way to see her and we’re off to Sydney ourselves tonight. Do you happen to know how long Merry is in Sydney for?’

‘I think she said she was flying out of Oz tonight. I’m due to pick up Bridge on the incoming flight this afternoon.’

‘That must be the plane we’re flyingouton,’ said Chrissie, rolling her eyes at CeCe in despair.

‘Can I help you in any way?’ the man said, sweeping off his Akubra hat and dabbing his sweating forehead with a handkerchief.

‘Thanks, but it’s Merry we came to speak to,’ said CeCe.

‘Well, why don’t we step out of this glaring sun and go sit on the terrace? We can crack a couple of tinnies and you can explain why you need to see Merry. I’m Tony, by the way,’ he said as they followed him back up the garden and under the cool shade of the awning. ‘I’ll just go grab those beers, and then we’ll have a chat.’

‘He seems like a good guy,’ commented Chrissie as they sat down.

‘Yeah, but he’s not the person we want to speak to,’ CeCe sighed.

‘There y’go.’ Tony returned and put the ice-cold beers down in front of them. They each took a grateful swig. ‘So, what’s the story?’

CeCe did her best to explain, with Chrissie filling in details when needed.

‘Now that’s a tall tale,’ he chuckled, ‘although I still don’t fully get the connection between your folks and Merry.’

‘Nor do I, to be honest, and I get the feeling we’re probably barking up the wrong tree, but we thought we’d try anyway,’ CeCe said, feeling deflated and exhausted.

‘Mary-Kate did leave messages for her mum saying we were coming. And one for Bridget. Didn’t they get them?’ said Chrissie.

‘I dunno, ’cos I was out all day yesterday fixing up a bathroom for a mate of mine. To be honest, I don’t know much about Merry, love. I met Bridge two years ago when she asked me to build this for her.’ He indicated the bungalow. ‘My parents brought me across from Brisbane when I was a kid, and I’m a builder by trade. My first wife died some years past, and when Bridge moved here, she was single too. Never thought I’d find another woman at my age, but we clicked right from the start. We got hitched six months ago,’ he beamed.

‘So you haven’t known Merry long?’

‘No, I only met her for the first time at our wedding.’

‘Is your wife Irish by any chance?’ continued Chrissie doggedly.

‘Ya guessed then,’ Tony nodded. ‘She is, and proud of her heritage too.’

‘We were told that Merry is originally Irish as well,’ said CeCe.