Authors: Gabrielle Lord
It had been raining constantly for the last couple of days, but as we sat on the train, after leaving Sharkey and Boges behind in Melrose, the downpour eased. I was already cold, pulling my hoodie closer around me, and the thought of meeting the kidnappers in the rain added an extra layer of gloom to my already lousy mood.
Although we’d made copies of the drawings, and hoped we’d escape without giving anything away, I didn’t want anyone else to have the
originals
. Each line had been drawn by my dad’s hand, and I wanted to hold onto that. I also didn’t want to give all the clues away. Winter came up with a brilliant idea–to make replicas of the drawings to hand over, but mess with them a little. Last night we sat around while she
skilfully
re-sketched Dad’s pictures, but made tiny,
subtle differences that we hoped would
completely
throw anyone trying to decode them.
On the drawing of the butler with the
black-jack
, she changed the two cards on his tray to add up to an insignificant number; she removed the ball from under the collared monkey’s paw; she changed the ‘five’ in the oval above the door to a ‘six’, and then moved the dot in between the two place names on the transparency.
I leafed through them. She’d done such a convincing job–I would have been fooled into thinking they were my dad’s work.
I reminded myself that even though we had fakes, if all went to plan, the criminals wouldn’t get their hands on them anyway. Nor on me. And Gabbi would be safe again. But there were so many chances for things to go awry. What if Sharkey and Boges didn’t turn up in time? What if they weren’t strong enough to tackle the kidnappers? I’d warned Sharkey that they could be up against all sorts of weaponry, and silently hoped he was coming prepared with his own. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to my friends.
Winter had taken the clippers to Boges’s fuzzy mane this morning. She trimmed it down to about a centimetre and a half. He looked like he was going to cry as he watched his long
tendrils
fall to the floor in a circle around him, but he looked awesome. I reminded him of how he’d always complained about his hair, and in the end, he was pretty happy with how he looked too–Winter and I both caught his reflection
grinning
in the mirror.
Now, in the train, Winter sat opposite me. She appeared calm and collected, staring out the window at the evening light on the gentle curves of the foothills. Behind them, the Spindrift Mountains loomed, lightly dusted with snow at their peaks.
I shivered.
Winter and I got off the train and walked the short distance to the main street. The rain had eased to a drizzle as we crossed the road to the Billabong Café. A pale yellow neon light spelled out its name. I hoped Boges and Sharkey were already there, somewhere in the shadows.
Apart from the Billabong Café, the motel, and the pub on the opposite corner, nothing else seemed open.
‘Are you OK?’ Winter asked.
‘I’m as OK as I can be,’ I said, ‘under the
circumstances
. You?’
‘Same,’ she said, taking my hand.
‘You don’t have to do this with me, Winter.’
She just smiled at me and squeezed my hand, as if to say there was no way she was backing out on me.
We’d had a few curious looks from locals back at the station, but probably just because we were unfamiliar faces in their small town. I hoped, anyway.
‘Am I imagining it,’ Winter whispered, as we walked together, ‘or do you also feel that
someone
is watching us?’
‘I don’t think you are imagining it,’ I muttered as we stepped up onto the footpath. I felt pretty certain we were being watched. Not just by locals.
We sat down at a table right at the back of the café–in a long, narrow space with dusty bunches of synthetic flowers on vines hanging from the light fittings. We were the only people there, and the owner looked like he was anxious to pack up for the night. The smell of stale fish and chips hung in the air.
It wasn’t until I tried to sit still that I realised I was trembling, but it didn’t feel like fear, more like tension and anticipation. Winter ordered a couple of milkshakes for us while I sent a pre-prepared text to Boges from under the table.
waiting in café for further instructions.
1 know. standing by.