Broken Page 8

  I look across the bench to Skinner. ‘What do I have to do?’

  ‘Keep your mouth shut. Don’t make it obvious you agree with Zavier, or Ebony will get suspicious of your motives.’

  ‘Don’t worry; she won’t get suspicious of me.’

  16

  Jordan

  ‘We shouldn’t be doing this.’ With Amber in the back seat reading a play for English, Ebony in the passenger seat beside me, I try to sound convincing without pushing too hard. Whatever I tell Ebony will probably not change her mind, but I can’t have her figuring out whose side I’m on.

  I hate the sound of that – whose side I’m on. I won’t let Ebony get hurt. The only way Prince Luca is getting his hands on her is over my dead body. I realise I’m walking a thin line here, something like a double agent I suppose. But I have to do this for Mum, and eventually, when Thane’s gone home to Avena and Ebony is over him, she’ll turn to me for comfort, and I’ll love her until my last breath.

  ‘You don’t understand,’ she says. ‘I’m not going to see Mr Zavier because I want to.’

  ‘Why don’t you wait until Thane gets back?’

  ‘Jordan, I need to know before he returns.’

  ‘He’s not going to like this.’

  ‘I know,’ she murmurs.

  ‘If something goes wrong, he’ll hold me responsible. He ordered me to protect you.’

  ‘Nothing will go wrong.’

  ‘Yeah, well just remember the sun sets early these days and Thane wanted us indoors by nightfall just in case.’

  Amber looks up from her book, meeting my eyes in the rear-view mirror. ‘In case of what?’

  ‘Dark angels and demons,’ I clarify.

  ‘Oh, right.’

  ‘They’re used to living under dark skies on Skade so when they come to Earth they find our bright sunshine intolerable.’

  ‘There’s plenty of daylight left,’ Ebony says. ‘Nathaneal will understand my reasons for doing this.’

  ‘Really? What reasons?’

  ‘If it turns out I’m not . . . of his kind, he can stop wasting his time thinking he’s found his abducted angel.’

  OK, she’s not going to turn round with this mindset, so I can relax a little.

  It takes forty minutes driving fast, longer than I was imagining. So we can’t stay long, but even with this in mind, when I turn into Willow Tree Lane, I find myself cruising along in a low gear. It’s the only way to take it all in – statuesque trees in deep reds and orange colours, massive flower displays and a brick-paved road all the way to black iron gates.

  It screams wealth.

  The girls exchange a knowing glance and a giggle at my gawking. They’ve been here before. I glance at Ebony. ‘Your uncle is rich.’

  ‘He’s not her uncle,’ Amber snaps. ‘At least, we don’t know that yet, so don’t go jumping to conclusions, or I’ll think you’re more of a moron than I already do.’

  ‘Thanks for clearing that up, Amber.’

  She shrugs. ‘No problem.’

  Standing in front of the gates, I glance around for an intercom system, but Ebony just turns a handle and the gate swings open. Before I realise what I’m doing I grab her wrist. She looks at me, waiting for my objection, or my question, or something. ‘Ah, that’s the same door-handle technology Thane has at his place.’

  ‘I know.’ Her eyes look sad, and guilty, like she knows she could be walking into a trap, or taking the path to hell, but can’t stop herself.

  ‘So, Jordan, what do you reckon it means?’ Amber asks once we’re all through and walking along a sweeping driveway.

  I shrug. ‘Heaps of wealthy people probably have that technology.’

  ‘Well, I’ve never heard of it,’ she mutters.

  ‘Stop worrying, you two,’ Ebony says, ‘I’m aware that Mr Zavier could be a dark angel, but it’s not going to stop me hearing what he has to say. Since Mum and Dad told me they adopted me, my life has been a crazy jigsaw puzzle. I’m finding pieces in all sorts of places, and while some fit, a lot don’t. But the man who owns this house is the man who brokered my adoption. He knows exactly what happened. Who I am. I will listen to his story, and then I’ll try to figure out whether he’s telling me the truth or not.’

  ‘Be careful,’ I warn. ‘It might not be easy to tell when he’s lying, and when he’s not.’

  She smiles at Amber, then at me. ‘That’s what I got you two for, isn’t it? To watch my back?’

  My stomach twists into a knot. ‘Yeah, of course!’

  She doesn’t notice how uncomfortable I’ve grown. Her mind has already shifted. ‘I want you both to listen carefully to what Mr Zavier says in case he knows something about my parents and drops a clue. I can’t sleep from worrying about them, wondering where they are and if they’re even alive any more.’

  Tears spring to her eyes and Amber gives her a hug. ‘I’ll be listening, I promise,’ she says. Over Amber’s shoulder, she catches my eye.

  ‘Yeah, of course. I’ll be listening too.’

  ‘The angels haven’t found them yet or they’d let me know, right, Jordan?’

  ‘Straight away.’

  ‘It’s been so long, I don’t know if they ever will find them, or when they do, if it will be too late. So please, you two, will you help?’

  And just like that, she melts my defences and I wanna tell her the truth about my mother and Skinner and the whole blackmail thing. But of course I can’t. ‘Don’t worry, Ebony, I’ve got your back.’

  She gives me a spectacular smile that has her trust in me written all over it. And I feel like the biggest bastard in the world.

  17

  Jordan

  A paved footpath spears off the driveway, shortening the distance to the house by slicing through a rainforest instead of having to go round it. Streams trickle over rocks while lizards skitter through the undergrowth. Above us, glossy oversized foliage and colourful parrots and lorikeets fly from one tree to the next, hunting out nectar and cracking open seeds. The forest is so alive with animal sounds and the fresh smell of moist earth that it’s easy to forget what we’re doing here.

  But once we walk out, and the house is right in front of us, our reason for being here catapults back into my brain. I glance at my watch and gawk at how much time has passed.

  I pick up the pace, making the girls walk quickly to the house, a huge building made of sandstone and red brick, with multiple garage doors at the southern end and a covered veranda on three sides with white shutters on too many windows to count.

  Mr Zee opens the door as soon as we step on to the veranda. Dressed casually in a navy polo-neck pullover with tan trousers and shiny black shoes, he looks more like a banker than a teacher.

  It might be my imagination, but his eyes seem to linger on mine as I walk in, like he knows my life story backwards. Since he’s in cahoots with Skinner, he probably does. ‘We don’t have much time, sir.’

  Ebony flashes me a scolding look.

  His eyebrows lift, then he nods, his face moving into a warm smile. ‘I’m glad you told me,’ he says. ‘Come this way. I have tea waiting.’

  He shows us into a white-tiled foyer with a high roof and an elegant, swirling staircase with polished rosewood rails, then into a living room with white leather couches set facing each other in front of a brick fireplace with a warm fire blazing.

  The three of us sit on a couch together, Ebony in the middle, while Mr Zee pours steaming hot tea into delicate-looking teacups and makes small talk. He focuses on the girls, asking them how long they’ve known each other, have they always been friends, that sorta thing. He swings the conversation round to Ebony’s missing parents, asking if she’s heard anything. Then, after refilling our cups, he gets to the reason Ebony is here.

  His version of Ebony’s birth completely contradicts Thane’s version. ‘Rachel had only just turned fifteen when she discovered she was pregnant.’

  Amber gasps, ‘Really? That’s like me having a baby in Ye
ar Ten!’

  ‘I was in my final year of a Bachelor of Science Degree. It was exam week of second semester with my last exam set down for the following day. Rachel wasn’t due for another two weeks. She hid her pains so not to bother me while I studied. The night was cold and wet, an early taste of winter. I had a fire going. When I went to start dinner she couldn’t hide her pains any more, but by then it was too late. She had started bleeding and though I didn’t know it then, her fate was sealed.’

  The memories – if that’s what they are – continue pouring out of him. ‘I pulled the mattress off my bed and laid it before the fire. I called an ambulance, but a head-on collision on Mountain Way occupied both paramedic teams that night. It was going to be too long before one made it to my place.’

  He looks directly at Ebony for a long moment, drawing her in, before slipping back into his story. ‘You arrived drowning in a pool of your mother’s blood. I severed the umbilical cord, cleaned you up a bit, slipped you inside a pillow slip and wrapped you in the first warm item my eyes landed on – my black rug. When the ambulance came it was too late for Rachel. But I wouldn’t let them take you too, so I hid you in the middle drawer of a chest in the garage and told the paramedics that Rachel had given birth in the forest only moments before she staggered to my door, crying that her baby was dead. I told them, “She was shivering and bleeding terribly, so I made her as comfort-able as I could, but she died soon after I called you”.’

  ‘And they believed you?’ Ebony asks.

  ‘They didn’t have any reason not to. It had started raining heavily, hampering their search for a foetus. A later search proved futile.’

  Amber asks, ‘Why didn’t you let the paramedics take the baby?’

  He shifts his eyes to her. ‘They would have made Ebony a state ward and I would have lost all track of her.’

  ‘So that’s why there’s no record of my birth,’ Ebony volunteers, sounding as if she’s believing his story.

  He shrugs, lifting his palms. ‘I’m afraid that couldn’t be helped. The truth is, Ebony, after losing Rachel, I thought your grandmother would raise you. I had to keep you out of the system to give her time to come round.’

  ‘But she didn’t, I gather,’ I say.

  He shakes his head.

  Ebony says, ‘And you were too busy.’

  ‘Unfortunately, true. I knew as soon as I finished my degree I would be travelling, so I found you good parents who were suffering with the loss of their own newborn. As soon as I met them, I knew they were the right ones. It was important for me to keep you in the valley so whenever I returned from my trips I could see for myself you were being well cared for. I made it an adoption stipulation that you were not to leave the valley, not even for a day, until you turned eighteen. I couldn’t risk coming home for even a few hours and not be able to see how you were going.’

  ‘Ahh,’ Ebony says. ‘A lot of this tallies with what my parents told me, but, still, it’s a lot to take in, Mr Zavier, because there’s another version of my birth.’

  He leans forward and looks straight into her eyes. ‘I don’t know what you’ve heard or been told, but I swear to you, Ebony, I am your uncle.’

  She stares at him hard. ‘So you’re saying that I’m human.’

  His face registers surprise. He gives a short laugh, looking puzzled and amused at the same time. ‘What else would you be?’

  ‘I don’t know. An angel?’ It’s a gutsy thing to say. If he has any reaction, she’ll register it, looking at him the way she is.

  But Mr Zee’s only reaction is amusement. ‘Let me assure you, you were not born under a rock. I didn’t find you in a cabbage patch. There is no wicked witch about to break down your door, or dwarfs with a prince in tow, waiting for you to fall asleep.’

  Ebony laughs. Whether she’s just being polite, or analysing his every comment, I can’t say.

  He smiles back gently. ‘You have had a tremendous amount to deal with, but you appear to be doing very well. I want you to know I’m here for you now. My travelling days are over.’

  Man, his story is convincing. He’s so believable I don’t know what to think. Is he an angel? Is he human? Whether it’s the truth, partial truth, or total bullshit, I can’t tell. Maybe because he’s a teacher, or just a damn good storyteller, I don’t know, but it won’t take much for this dude to convince anyone his version is the truth.

  Either way it doesn’t matter to me – it’s Ebony who has to believe this man is telling her the truth.

  Maybe angels really do make mistakes.

  ‘I’m sorry for your loss, Mr Zavier,’ Ebony says.

  ‘Thank you, Ebony, but you had the greater loss.’

  She looks unsure about what he means. ‘Pardon, sir?’

  ‘You never had the opportunity to know your birth mother. You would have liked Rachel. Though she was young, she was kind and friendly and loving.’

  Amber sits back, frowning. ‘How old were you at the time, sir? You don’t look much older than a university student, but if you were here delivering a baby sixteen years ago, that would have to make you at least –’ she shrugs – ‘fifty?’

  He chokes on his tea. When he composes himself, he explains, ‘Surely, I don’t look that old, Ms Lang. People tell me I’m quite young-looking. I’ve always taken care of my skin. That might sound strange coming from a man, but you would be surprised at how many men protect their skin from the sun’s damaging ultra-violet light rays. I was twenty when Rachel came to live with me. Sixteen years later, I’m still asked for ID sometimes.’

  Ebony laughs. It’s just a light, friendly sound, but it could mean she’s softening towards him. I should be glad. Instead, I feel crummier than ever.

  ‘You have a nice house.’ Amber makes a show of appreciating our surroundings. ‘You were living here when your sister gave birth. Alone. A uni student.’ She stares at Mr Zee with her eyebrows raised.

  His eyes seem to burn into hers for a moment. But she doesn’t flinch and he flicks his gaze very briefly to me.

  I get it. He wants me to help him with this. It turns my stomach, but I do it because I have to. ‘I suppose the house was much smaller then, sir? You know, before you renovated?’

  His mouth twitches with a microscopic smile. ‘Yes, it was,’ he says, words flowing out now as smooth as warmed syrup straight from the pan. ‘My eccentric great-uncle left me this property, a mere shell of what you see today. I renovated using money I made selling off parcels of land on the riverfront.

  ‘My sister was too trusting,’ he continues. ‘She fell in love with a boy who attended boarding school, and whose parents wanted to broaden his horizons on a working farm for six weeks. Rachel worked weekends in the supply store in the village. They met on his first day when he came to pick up provisions.’

  Whether it’s a load of crap or God’s honest truth, Ebony is starting to lean forward more and more.

  ‘Rachel knew she would never see the boy again once he left. He had plans to become a doctor like his grandfather. He had no mind for a pretty young country girl who dreamed of love.’

  Amber catches my eye with a look that’s asking for my opinion. I wish I knew what to tell her. Is he lying? I don’t know! I can’t say for sure! But I don’t trust him. And as long as Prince Luca has my mother trapped in Skade I can’t do anything to discredit Mr Zee’s story. So I lean round Ebony’s back and whisper, ‘He sounds genuine, don’t you think so?’

  Amber stares at me like I’m an escapee from a mental hospital.

  ‘They agreed they would never see each other again unless fate intervened,’ he says. ‘The boy was gone before Rachel learned she was pregnant.’

  ‘How romantic,’ Amber mutters. ‘But she knew his first name, right? Even a naive fifteen-year-old would get that out of a boy she’s having sex with for six weeks.’

  When Mr Zee remains quiet, staring at Amber with cold eyes, Ebony sits up straighter like she’s waking from a dream. ‘What was his name, sir?’
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  He still doesn’t say anything.

  ‘What’s the problem, sir?’ Amber drills. ‘It’s a simple question.’

  ‘Maybe Mr Zavier wants to be sure of his facts before he releases any personal information.’ The words just roll out of my mouth. I don’t even know where they come from. Lying isn’t so hard after all. It just makes me feel dirty inside and out, like a pig rolling in mud and then eating it.

  ‘I made a mistake once before,’ he says, his gaze fixed on Ebony. ‘I don’t want to risk losing your trust because I didn’t validate the facts first.’

  ‘What-ever,’ Amber mutters, stabbing me with her eyes.

  ‘When I heard of your recent tragedy,’ he says, ‘I realised I needed to make contact. I never stopped thinking of you all those years. You are my niece by blood, and nothing is closer than that. I wanted to tell you everything that day we met at the burnt shell of your family home, but after seeing how distraught you were I decided to wait until you’d had time to adjust to your situation. In an attempt to set things right between us, I promise you that I am going to find your biological father, regardless of how long it takes.’

  ‘Really?’ Ebony says.

  ‘Please feel free to call me “Uncle”, except in the classroom,’ he adds, smiling with just the right degree of compassion.

  This dude is smooth. But time is getting away from us. I tug on Ebony’s arm and point to my watch. ‘We should get going.’

  She glances outside and frowns. ‘OK, but, um, I haven’t asked my questions yet. A few more minutes won’t hurt, will it?’

  ‘It’s winter. Today is shorter than yesterday.’

  ‘I won’t say a word if you speed all the way home.’

  I scoff at this. Ebony is a speed freak. She begs me to drive faster. Amber, on the other hand, will freak and I sure don’t want to be driving home with her screaming in my ear. ‘It’s not you I’m worried about.’

  She flicks Amber a look, smiling to herself.