Entwine (24 page)

Her dad spun around, and Sarah caught up with him outside on the front veranda.

“Is everything okay with Alyssa?”

“Oh, yeah, baby just passed the danger period, baby is set up, baby and mother are all fine.”

“What about Nigel and Alyssa?” Sarah crossed her arms, and gave her dad a look. “How are you two going?”

“I’m so embarrassed. I keep messing up. She crawls back and I love her, and it’s stupid, but I do, and that one night, she fell pregnant, and I decided it was an omen for me to get my life together. I made it right, stuck by her. But, like usual, it’s unravelling. She doesn’t demand money for her, but she needs more of it than usual in her situation now, and she is too tired for me. I just drink or watch TV and she’ll be out with her girlfriends for coffees. I feel like a support beam, and less and less of a partner, actually.” He shook his head. “But, as I said. I love her, and a baby is a big thing. We’re adjusting.”

“She’s not using you, is she?”

“That offends me. Alyssa would never use me, or anyone. She’s beautiful, feisty, and independent, but she would never do that.” Her dad walked down the steps to the path. “Actually, we’ll be fine for money.”

Sarah watched her dad walk to his car and drive away. She stood there for a while after he left, wondering how Alyssa was a user, that she had used many men and probably women in her life to get what she wanted, and only for her benefit, even to the detriment of other people. Alyssa couldn’t be trusted at all.

Sarah worried at her lip, concerned for her dad. She had to go after him and apologise, at least look like she understood. If he was that clueless, what sort of things did Alyssa already do to him that he was oblivious to?

What hold did this woman have over him?

• • •

NOW

Sarah took off in her car after her dad. With only a few minutes head start, she drove to his place. Alone in her car, Sarah thought. Her dad mightn’t have been the best father after his first affair with Alyssa, but he did have the best intentions at heart. It was just that those intentions came out misconstrued, with him all blinded by Alyssa’s facade and a little lost in his own true self. Her dad needed a woman in his life. He just couldn’t pick one and stick with her, and the one he ended up choosing was a headcase.

At his place, she parked in the driveway and took a few deep breaths before walking up the porch to the front door. There, she rapped three times, and stood back, and tucked her hands into each other across her chest.

Her dad opened the door, frazzled. He wasn’t looking at her, but around, and back inside. He didn’t even stay in the one spot, or invite her in. Just said, “Oh, hi again, Sez,” and turned back, digging through a bowl on the entry bench as Sarah passed him.

“Lose something?”

“Yeah, my wallet.”

Sarah pushed back her talk. He seemed like he needed to get this over with anyway, or else her chat would just go in one ear and out of his other. “I’ll look upstairs for you, if you want.”

Her dad grumbled something. It may have been thanks, but he was head down and focused on looking through the bowl in front of him. His concern amped up her
worry. How much money was in there for him to be this anxious to find it? She didn’t ask—that would just worsen his state, and neither of them needed that.

Sarah decided she’d check the bathroom. Too many times she’d gone to wash her hands, put on make-up or adjust something, and she’d leave her glasses, keys or purse there. But even after Sarah glanced over the benchtops, opened drawers, and looked under the cupboards underneath, she came up empty.

Sarah walked over to his bedroom, hoping he wouldn’t mind her nosing around in there. The bed was made, the cover spread without a crease. The carpet was clean, no piles of clothes, or bags chucked around. It seemed hopeless, until she saw the dark leather wallet on a bedside table.

Sarah had come to her dad’s room sporadically. When she came over, she rarely went upstairs to his bedroom. The last time she was here might have been half a year ago. But, now that Alyssa was set up in here, she noticed the side with the wallet on it was hers. She had a lipstick rolled on its side, lodged between a couple of necklaces. She had a mini bowl with her rings and earrings, and a tag for a Myers coat, the price reading $350.

Sarah said, “
Dad
! I found it in your bedroom.”

Wasn’t that the first place he’d look? Remembering his panic, she opened it, and found a $10 note in there.
The hell
, she thought. She flicked to his cards, and noticed all the slots were filled with credit and bank cards and such. Nothing was missing.

No steps came to her. Her dad must have been way deep in looking for the wallet for him to be in his own world enough to miss her call. She was about to call again, when her words stung.

She was almost sure this wasn’t about Alyssa needing money for the baby anymore. How much money could one woman with her own job need in only the early stages of the second trimester?

Bullshit.

Sarah dropped to her knees, and sifted through her bedside table. She found vouchers of all kinds, old headbands, an empty camera case, more junk. There were plastic ziplock bags with old, twisted and discoloured jewellery in them.

One of those bags, tucked right at the back, had a mobile phone in it. Sarah breathed rapidly as she took it out.

The mobile phone was turned off. It was an old model that probably didn’t have Internet access on it. Not even worth keeping, in this day and age.

Sarah’s interest piqued. She turned it on, but it asked for a code.

“Shit,” she muttered, rubbing her lips together.

She flipped the phone, noticed a bulge straining the backing, and took it off. The battery remained lodged in place, but a paper with only four digits fluttered out. Sarah picked it up, reading: “4116”. This time, when she turned on the phone and entered the code, it let her to the home screen.

Sarah swallowed, and it sounded loud, as she had to push past the tightness in her throat. The realisation of uncovering potential crucial information about who Alyssa truly was made her eyes grow wide.

Shaking her head, she willed herself to focus back on the phone. She had to enter another code to access the messages, which wasn’t the same. She tried quadruple zero: fail. Knowing she only had likely three chances, she swapped the original digits to 6114, and it worked.

Either Sarah was incredibly smart or Alyssa was incredibly foolish.

There were only three contacts in the messages she had. The latest one, and the one for the last couple of months was—

Sarah blinked. She had to bring the phone closer, but the text was big enough before, and now, to read. She gulped, and then forced herself to think the name.

Robin Treel.

Little fucker. Both of them! Yep, Sarah hadn’t forgotten one bit that night all those years ago, or finding him on Facebook. All the messages were sickening. “Love you more than anything, sexy”, “I want to be with you forever” and “We’ll run away together. Forget that old asshole”.

She sat, unmoving, feeling tingles in her feet from sitting on them directly for all this time, and then she noticed the bedside table, the bed came back into view, and she remembered the fact she was sorting through Alyssa’s dirty secrets in her dad’s room.

She called, “Dad!” louder this time.

Her dad’s heavy footsteps bounded to the entry. He was panting, and his face had a red tinge. She handed over the wallet, and her dad did his own inspection. When he looked up, his face had paled in those couple of seconds. “Did you take something out of this?”

Sarah stood there with wrinkled eyebrows. She had planned to stagger to shock, but now she forgot about the phone and what she saw and said, “Course not. I just found it and called you.”

“No, but it’s missing.”

Sarah gulped. “What is?”

“The money I got from selling my bike. I didn’t use it much, so I sold it for us, and the baby. I sold it just yesterday!” He dad started pacing, looking around, under furniture. “I didn’t leave it anywhere. There’s no way anyone could have stolen it. Shit!”

Sarah opened Alyssa’s drawer, and looked through it in case the money was there. Behind her, she heard her dad mumbling cusses.

“You sure you didn’t directly deposit it in the bank, or—”

“Yesterday was Saturday. I didn’t get to them in time.”

“How much did you have?”

Her dad stilled, and by the loss of expression, she noticed that he seemed like hope had drained from him. It wasn’t the right time to hit him with even more devastating news.

He slumped on the end of the bed. “Uh, it was, um,” her dad wasn’t focused. He blinked and then finished off, “eight grand.”

“
Eight
!?”

He nodded, chin tucked in. “Alyssa’s gonna kill me,” he added.

That was when other things started to click for Sarah. Why was her dad assuming he’d lost the money himself? Why did Malik only get so drunk he didn’t know what he was doing, kissed, and was all over Alyssa that night after she got together with him, when he’d been sober for three years previously? He’d tried to plead his innocence. Had gone to all the trouble of making the album Sarah now kept tucked under her bed.

Her body flushed with heat, rage pouring from her thoughts deep throughout her body, until she had gritted teeth and her bra felt like it was cutting off her chest every time she drew in a breath.

Had she planned a pregnancy for her own financial benefit, and then, out of jealously, spiked Malik’s drinks to ruin Sarah’s and his relationship? Sarah had to know. She had to give Malik another chance and apologise, if he too were a victim of Alyssa’s.

She’d been waiting for something to finally end their separation—be it a finality, or a second chance. Now, it looked like she could get her happy ending.

“Dad,” she said. “Call Alyssa.”

“Nah, I’ll check with her later. She had to go out and see her parents. They’re pretty much out of range at their property.”

Sarah doubted that. She was probably off to see her own lover boy.

“I’ll call her. Seriously, you need this money. See if she can help you find it.”

Her dad had his hands pulling on his hair at this stage. All he managed was to nod, and take one hand away to point at the cordless phone on the hallway bench, just outside.

Sarah found Alyssa’s mobile programmed in at number one. She saved the number into her own mobile contacts, and then rang it from her from her mobile. It rang and rang, not surprisingly. Sarah didn’t take Alyssa for a complete fool, given she’d done all—

“Hello?” Alyssa said, just before Sarah was going to hang up.

“Hey, it’s Sarah. Have you—” but the line went dead before she could finish. Sarah tried calling back, but it said the mobile wasn’t available. She stood, looking at her mobile, feeling how franticly her heart was beating now.

She sat by her dad on the bed, and let him look at her before she spoke. “Okay, can you promise to hear me out?”

“Sure.”

“You need to speak to Alyssa. Find her. I called from my mobile. She picked up, not knowing who I was. As soon as I said it was me … well, she hung up before I even finished saying we were looking for your money. Now her mobile is turned off. I don’t see a way how anyone else could have your money, Dad. Please, just have a think about this. She’s been benefitting a lot from a relationship where you guys haven’t been romantically happy anymore. Why else has she stuck by? The baby? Money? Another personal benefit?” Sarah paused and took a deep breath. “There’s more.”

Her dad hardly managed to nod his head; she could see the strain it took him, in his frozen state, to do even that.

“I found this.” She handed Alyssa’s secret mobile phone to him. “It was hidden at the back of her drawer in a bag. She uses it to text sometimes. I think you should see.”

Her dad was already “seeing”. He’d started pressing buttons the second she gave it to him, and had obviously gone directly to the texts, as Sarah had. He was now realising in these seconds, that felt too full of tension to be mere seconds, and too fast to be only seconds, that Alyssa wasn’t who she’d claimed to be.

Her dad stood up and walked in circles. His lips moved, and his hands were dug in his pockets, but otherwise, Sarah couldn’t tell if he were angry or hurt or stressed, or which one of them he felt the most.

He held up a finger. “I was originally going to refute everything you just told me when you started,” he said.

Sarah didn’t know what to say. He looked like he needed some space, from his vibe. And it was rubbing off on her and she couldn’t think. Maybe it was best she listen to his needs. “I’ll just be downstairs. Be right back.”

Downstairs, she rummaged in his fridge for OJ and gulped that down. She slapped the glass down in the sink and leant back against the bench. What was she going to do? Her dad needed direction and she was anything from confident, bold and … but she knew someone who was. And someone who could help them.

Malik.

He always managed to appear fearless and controlled. He new Alyssa inside out, and she also needed to ask him some things about that night now that she had uncovered new information.

She called his mobile. “Malik, I need a favour from you. Dad and I need your help.”

“Sarah? Sure, you guys okay?”

“Well …” Sarah ended up letting that hang there. She wasn’t about to lie, or explain it all over the phone, and she didn’t know what else to say. “Do you know where my dad lives?”

“Nope, but I can be there soon if you want.”

“Yep.”

Sarah gave Malik the address. He promised to come down, now.

• • •

NOW

Malik arrived at her dad’s place. She knew the sound of his engine, and peered out from behind a curtain, where she was watching. Yep, it was him. She opened the door before he knocked, and, stunned-faced, he stepped through, wandering his gaze around from the entry. He had Lucy in one hand. Sarah was thankful it was his weekend to mind their daughter. Would Alyssa have taken off with her, too?