Page 13 of The Vanishing Place

Be safe. Rimu sends kisses. x

Effie lay on her back and stared up at the ceiling, not sure what she was meant to be feeling.

If Lewis was right, she was about to meet a member of her family that she hadn’t known existed until a few days ago.

What feeling was meant to go with that? Excitement?

Fear? Should she have brought her a gift?

Shit . Effie rubbed at her face. She wasn’t good with children.

She got up, showered and dressed, and headed through to the kitchen to find June waiting for her with a coffee.

“Morning, sunshine.” June smiled. “I thought I heard the shower.”

“You’re up early,” said Effie, taking the warm mug.

“Plenty of time to sleep when we’re dead.”

Effie breathed the coffee in before taking a sip. “What time does the clinic open?”

“Nine.” June nodded toward the selection of fresh bread, Marmite and fruit on the table. “But we’ll head over as soon as we’ve eaten.”

Effie frowned. “Does Lewis know we’re coming in early?”

June sliced into the loaf. “He doesn’t want the locals seeing you just yet. Most folks think you’re still missing.” She raised an eyebrow. “Or dead.”

After a quick breakfast, they drove June’s ute the five hundred meters to the clinic—to avoid prying eyes. Effie smiled as June grunted the vehicle into third, the seventy-something-year-old woman with tasseled floral sofas and a Ford Ranger with bull bars and a snorkel.

As they turned the corner, the blue roof of the small community health center came into view, and two decades unraveled in an instant. Effie gripped the door handle, her body shaken with the memory.

“You okay?” asked June.

“Yeah.” Effie let out a breath. “I’m just glad Anya has you and Lewis.”

June turned off the engine. “You know, we’re not even sure it’s her real name.”

Effie frowned. “How come?”

“Lewis will explain.”

They walked across the gravel carpark toward the back door. Effie slipped her hands into her pockets, then took them out again. She’d never been so aware of her hands, of her arms, just hanging there with nothing to do.

Before they reached the door, it swung open with a clang, and Lewis filled the frame.

He waited, one hand on the door, his eyes fixed on Effie.

The gravel crunched beneath her feet, matching the thud in her chest, as she returned his gaze.

His clothes were creased, likely from pulling a back-to-back shift, and his hair was shaggy.

His hair was brown the last time she’d seen him, a boy of eighteen, but it had grayed at the sides.

Despite the exhaustion and stress that hung from him, it still caught her off guard—the pull she felt toward him, as though the last seventeen years had never happened.

Her Lewis .

His face had thinned out, making his cheekbones more pronounced, and he had a short beard—stubble, really. But his eyes, a deep black-brown, were the same. He managed a soft grin as his gaze roved over her.

“You’re here?” he said, as if he hadn’t been the one to book her ticket.

“Yes.” Effie forced an awkward smile. “I’m here.”

For a moment, they stood a meter apart, neither of them saying anything.

Then Lewis stepped forward and pulled her into a hug.

He’d always been lean, but there was an unfamiliar strength to him now.

He held on to her so tightly that Effie found it hard to breathe, but she didn’t say anything.

She would have struggled to breathe even if he hadn’t touched her.

“Thank you,” he said, pulling away. “I really…” He ran his hands through his disheveled hair.

Effie, her chest threatening to burst open, was unable to look at him. Unable to look away. Then June cleared her throat.

“Right, you two.” She stepped past them, and Effie finally took a breath. “As fun as this is, we’re on a time frame. So let’s save the emotional reunion for later.”

Lewis moved aside and they walked into the cool building, with the same pale yellow walls and shiny floors, and Effie tried not to think about the last time she’d been there.

“A time frame?” she asked.

“How about we all take a seat?” June moved over to the small waiting room, just five plastic chairs. “This might be worth sitting for.”

“Where’s the kid?” Effie glanced around the room.

“She’s sleeping,” said Lewis, his voice changed. “We set up a bed for her in the empty consultation room. With only one nurse practitioner, it’s rarely used.”

“One nurse?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Kyle, he’s great. We also get a visiting GP a couple of times a week. She was here yesterday.”

“Did she do an examination of the kid?”

“Yes.” Lewis wouldn’t meet Effie’s eye, as though looking at her made him uncomfortable.

Like there was something he wasn’t telling her.

“She said that Anya was still suffering from mild dehydration, and also diarrhea. She has a number of minor cuts and bruises. Again, nothing serious, probably just from the bush. Although there is one reasonably bad scar down her right thigh. Old. Most likely a burn. Fire perhaps, or a hot object.”

Lewis hesitated, his eyes flicking even farther away.

“What?” asked Effie.

“We found marks on the girl’s ankles,” said June.

“Ligature marks?” Effie asked, even though she didn’t need to. She knew, every part of her knew.

“Yes,” said June. “It looks like the girl was tied up, at least for periods.”

“Has she spoken again?”

“No, not since she told me her name.”

“Which might not be real?”

He sighed. “Apparently, between 2015 and 2018, there were only forty-six babies named Anya in the entire country. But not one of them was in the West Coast.”

“Not one that was registered anyway,” said Effie. She rubbed her forehead. “And what about missing children, runaways, kids that might have—”

“Nothing.” Lewis shook his head, his eyes dark and his skin pale, the kind of grayish tinge that Blair got after a week on night shift. “I spent Saturday canvassing the village. June helped.”

“Not exactly a big job,” said June, “with a total of ninety-two residents and only the kid from the shop having a clue what we were talking about.”

“And tourists?”

“I visited the motel and the backpackers,” said Lewis. “Then I drove around the freedom camping spots. But nothing.”

“Just rubbish and human filth.” June tutted. “It’s disgusting what these young backpackers think they…”

Lewis glanced up and June stopped.

“And the locals?” asked Effie.

“They’ve agreed to keep it quiet,” said Lewis. “The locals here tend to keep things private—Koraha’s business being Koraha’s business.”

“There’s already been a heap of stuff dropped off.” June nodded toward the reception desk. “Clothes, toys, books, food. People are like that here. Good, solid folks.”

“So you found the girl on Friday afternoon, and it’s now Wednesday.”

“Yes.” Lewis nodded once. “Monday was a public holiday, Labor Day, so we couldn’t get the GP in until yesterday.”

“Things don’t exactly move fast around here,” said June. “Next police station is an hour and a half away, in Franz. Just another sole-charge officer there, too. Greymouth and Christchurch are the nearest cities for anything important.”

“What about child welfare services?” asked Effie.

June and Lewis glanced at each other.

“That’s the time frame issue,” said Lewis.

“Are they sending someone down?”

“Not exactly.” Lewis chewed on his lip. “I haven’t contacted Oranga Tamariki yet.”

“I don’t understand.” Effie looked from Lewis to June.

“I’m not obligated to inform them”—Lewis shifted in his chair — “if I can place the child with a family member.”

“With you,” said June.

“What?” Effie stood and took a step back. “You can’t be serious. I don’t even know her.” She pressed her palms to her forehead. “She’s never even met me.”

“Well, let’s just ship her off to the authorities, then.” June raised an eyebrow. “From the West Coast bush to Christchurch. You’re right. She’ll fit right in.”

“June, that’s not what I—”

Lewis held his hands out, more diplomatic than Effie remembered. “I think we should all take a moment.”

“We don’t even know if we’re actually related.”

“Please.” June rolled her eyes.

“And wouldn’t this O-Otanga something—”

“Oranga Tamariki,” offered Lewis.

“Wouldn’t they want proof of a family relationship?”

“Ha.” June laughed.

“I’m just asking you to think about it,” said Lewis. “Please, Effie.”

“Just think quickly,” added June.

“This is insane.” Effie’s thoughts spun.

There was a soft thud, then another, and she turned around.

Effie gasped.

The kid was there. Her arms hung at her sides, red hair falling to her waist, and she stared at them.

Shit . Her feet were bare and she was wearing a Frozen nightdress that came halfway down her shins.

A small green pendant hung around her neck, the jade stone clear against the light blue cotton, and she had a silver scalpel clasped in one hand.

“Didn’t you clear out the consultation room?” Effie hissed.

“Of course I did,” whispered Lewis. “She must have taken it from Kyle’s room.”

Shit . Effie blinked twice. The kid looked just like her.

Lewis took a step forward, his movements slow and unthreatening, but it was too late.

The girl lunged forward, a blur of limbs and matted hair, and threw herself at Effie.

She collided with Effie like a bullet, her scrawny frame more bone than flesh.

Effie reacted on instinct, ready to protect herself, to pull the child into her and hold her tight.

But Effie stopped. Stunned.

The child was hugging her. The girl’s thin arms were wrapped around her body, clinging to her, and she was crying.

“Please,” she whispered.

Effie lowered her head so she could hear.

“Please,” she whispered again. “These people are bad. We can’t trust them.”