Page 44 of The Vanishing Place

The gray of the sky matched the gray of the sea, the line where the two met hard to distinguish. There was a heat to the afternoon though, a rare tenderness to the salt breeze, and the warmth of the sea air wrapped Effie up.

She stood in shorts and a singlet with her toes buried in the sand as the water lapped at her ankles. It was changing her—the West Coast air and the endless ashen sea.

As she looked out at the water, her phone buzzed in her pocket, stealing her attention from the crashing waves. After a moment, she pulled it out.

Prepare yourself, my friend…

Three dots appeared and flashed under Blair’s message.

It’s all Ewan’s doing. Nothing to do with me. The man has issues.

Effie rubbed her forehead, groaning, as her phone pinged and the image came through.

“Jesus, Blair.”

Rimu was sitting on Ewan’s knee in a checked hoodie, the drawcords tied into a bloody bow. It even had arms for Rimu’s front legs. Ewan was wearing a matching one.

Ewan got them made. Both with a “calming fleece interior.” Ewan says it makes the dog feel hugged. I swear to god.

Effie buried her face in her palm.

Honestly. I TOTALLY LOVE THEM. Ewan’s ordering one for me now.

Effie replied, almost smiling.

Well, we always knew you had issues .

The dots appeared again, dancing as Blair typed, but a figure caught Effie’s eye and she turned.

Lewis .

Effie stood still as he walked down the beach, her body rooted to the spot as he closed the gap between them.

He kept his gaze set on her, not once looking away, not stopping until they were a few meters apart.

Neither of them spoke as the waves rolled in behind them.

Then Lewis took a step forward, and Effie’s breath caught in her throat.

“How did—” she began.

“Your car. I spotted it from the road.” Lewis’s face hardened, and he clenched and spread his fingers at his sides. “I…” He swore, then kicked at the sand. “I just…it’s like you’re always there, in my head, and I can’t—”

“Lewis, we’re not going to talk about this now.” Effie shook her head. “Look, you’re married—sorry, separated. I get it. We don’t need—”

“Yes.” His raised voice silenced her. “We are going to talk about it. Right now. Because not everything gets to be your decision. You’ve been like a petulant child since you got back, refusing to listen or to let anyone help you.

” He threw his hands up. “And god forbid, Effie, that you let anyone get close to you.”

“Me?” she snapped. “You’re the one who was secretly married. You’re the one who pulled away from me.”

“It was never a secret.” He paused. “And you know that it wasn’t, that before…I couldn’t…”

“Couldn’t what?” she demanded. “That you couldn’t kiss me? Couldn’t bear to touch me?”

Lewis shook his head and let out a frustrated groan. “For fuck’s sake, Effie.”

“I get it,” she said. “You want to save me. You think I’m some fragile bush girl in need of rescuing.” Her lips trembled. “Well, I’m not. And I don’t need your help or your pity.”

“Pity?” Lewis balked. “I don’t pity you.” He threw his arm out in the direction of the water, his voice raised. “You left. You left and you never looked back. You built a whole new life for yourself on the other side of the world, and you didn’t give a single thought to the people you left behind.”

“That’s not what happened.”

“You didn’t give a shit about the one person who loved you more than…” Lewis balled his fingers into a fist, his body shaking, then he turned away.

Effie didn’t move or make a sound. She seemed to have forgotten how to form words.

Eventually, Lewis looked back, his eyes damp, and Effie’s chest constricted.

“I missed you, Effie.”

She shook her head; it was all she could do.

“You didn’t call,” said Lewis. “In seventeen years, you didn’t call.”

“I—”

“I thought about you all the time,” he said, moving nearer. “I wondered where you might be, or who you might be with. Who was getting to love you.” He stepped closer. Too close. “Does that sound like pity to you?”

Effie bit into her lip, her muscles vibrating, and she was fifteen again.

“And now,” he said, “you’re here.”

His face was right there in front of her, the warmth of his breath brushing against her neck and cheek.

She was fifteen and lost and heartbroken. “I thought you didn’t want me.”

Lewis took her face in his hands and looked into her eyes, then he kissed her.

He pulled her close, his mouth forceful, and Effie sank into him, her heart pounding as he lowered her to the sand.

Lewis kept kissing her as she tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head, and she ran a hand down his bare chest.

Effie groaned as he moved his head down to her stomach. He kissed her from her navel up to her neck, the damp warmth of his mouth seeping through the thin fabric of her singlet.

“Lewis,” she murmured.

He kissed along her collarbone, taking his time, and Effie clawed into his shoulders. With each touch of his tongue, something surged inside her, and she moved her fingers down to his jeans. She tried to undo the button, but he stopped her.

“Lewis?”

He looked up, a smile eclipsing his face, and lowered himself onto her, her body beating under the weight of him.

“Can I take you home?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He kissed her.

“Yes.”

He kissed her again. “Thank god.” His smile widened. “I might have died if you’d said no.”

—

A few hours later, Effie crept back into June’s house. She didn’t want Anya to wake in the middle of the night and find she wasn’t there. She inched the girl’s door open, grimacing as the hinges creaked, and peered inside. But Anya was fast asleep.

“Night, little one,” she whispered.

She stepped back, cursing the hinges, and pulled the door closed.

The smell of sex clung to her clothes and hair, and her body was too alive with Lewis to consider sleeping.

She tiptoed to the kitchen and put the kettle on.

June had left a note on the benchtop. About bloody time .

And she’d signed it off with a kiss and a smiley face.

Effie pocketed the note and took her tea through to the living room. She had only just sat down when Anya appeared in the doorway.

“Anya.” She looked up. “I thought you were sleeping.”

“June said you were with Lewis.”

“I was.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“No, no.” Effie smiled and shook her head. “I’m fine.”

Anya frowned. “He’s a policeman.”

“Yes.” Effie patted the cushion next to her. “But he’s also my friend.”

Anya walked over and sat on the sofa. “So we like him?”

“Yes. We like him very much.”

Anya looked at her. Then she lay down and rested her head on Effie’s lap.

“I didn’t like the other police people.”

“No.” Effie pulled a blanket over the child. “I’m not their biggest fan either.”

“Is that why you hid Mum’s stuff from them?”

“Sorry?” Effie frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Did you not want those police people to have it?”

“Have what?”

“Mum’s things.” Anya yawned. “Her clothes and books and stuff.”

Effie stiffened. “What clothes?”

“The clothes that were in the hut.”

“Anya,” Effie tried to keep her voice steady, “what do you mean? Who hid them?”

“You did.”

Effie took a breath. “When did I hide them?”

Anya turned and pulled the blanket to her chin. “When you took me back to the hut.” She rubbed her eyes. “When you made me stay outside and draw.”

“Anya, I didn’t hide anything.”

She yawned again. “Mum was gone, remember? And all her things were gone too.” She frowned. “Unless Mum took them.” Her frown deepened. “Or he did. He hated Mum’s clothes. He said they were ugly.”

“Who?” Heat tingled in Effie’s chest and neck. “Who said that?”

“The bad man.”

“And where is he now?”

Anya shrugged. “Hiding in the trees.”