Thirty Days: Part One Page 23

  “I can’t do this anymore,” I mutter as my eyes search the clock that reads 1:03 a.m.

  Looking on my phone, I’m quick to learn that a bus service is offered throughout the night heading into Brisbane, so I decide that I will take the 2:25 a.m. shuttle from Kempsey. Opening the door, I spy four collapsed bodies in a line asleep against the wall. Tiptoeing shoeless down the staircase, I’m startled when Grady steps out in front of me at the bottom.

  “Where are you going, Miss McMillian?” he whispers with narrowed eyes before taking me by the arm and pulling me a short distance.

  “Well, I was going home.”

  “May I ask how you plan on getting there?”

  “Bus. I’m going, Grady. You can’t stop me.” Anger begins to spew a molten red throughout my core.

  “Where is this bus leaving from?”

  “Kempsey,” I reply, my voice sounding confident.

  “Do you know where Kempsey is?” He cocks his eyebrow.

  “Nope. Have no idea, but I’m sure I’ll figure it out.” I flick my arm, forcing his hand to let go of its grip.

  “After what happened last night, I can’t risk that. Here, let me take you,” he offers before taking the carryon from my shoulder and putting it over his.

  “Why would you help me?”

  “It’s for the best.”

  “Grady, did you—”

  “I heard everything, Abigail.” His expression becomes worried.

  “Would you promise not to tell them until morning that I’ve gone, if I let you help?”

  “Done.” A fair result to a non-existent negotiation. “Let me do one better. Let me get you on a flight out of Sydney instead. I’m sure we both agree it would be safer and it would most definitely make me feel better about the situation.”

  “How? Why?”

  He smiles kindly. “Marcus has a private plane on standby. He has since you two flew in. You see, as much as he wants you here with him, he also doesn’t want to hurt you, so if at any time you needed to leave, it was his strict instruction that I was to make it happen. It will take me about an hour to get everything done, but I will.”

  “Thank you, Grady, you’re my hero.” I place my hand on his arm, showing my appreciation.

  “No. I’m just your friend.” He smiles softly before walking to the front door. “Are you coming?”

  “Yes,” I say hesitantly. “You’re very sneaky, Grady,” I confirm as he closes the door with extra care.

  ***

  Rain trickles over the windscreen as we drive down what appears to be a highway, the many lanes and bright lights leading me to that conclusion. I’m glad I chose to sit in the front passenger seat rather than the back. Grady’s company is keeping at bay a brewing panic, as my heart plummets in despair. Noticing Grady is in jeans and a T-shirt, it dawns on me that this is the first time I’ve seen him in casual clothing and it also makes me wonder why he was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs tonight. Did he always know I’d run from this? I guess he also knows me well.

  The dimple in his chin is smaller than the tip of my pinkie finger, but draws my attention every time I see him smirk or smile. It’s then I realise he’s smirking.

  “What’s with the look?” I ask, unsure.

  “What look?” he answers, not taking his eyes from the road.

  “You’re smirking.”

  “Didn’t realise I was.”

  “Alrighty then,” I say in song, which causes him to chuckle.

  “You have a big personality, just as Marcus described.”

  “So I’ve never met you before.”

  “No, ma’am, you haven’t. But I do know a lot about you.”

  “That’s kind of creepy, you know.”

  He chuckles once more. “I guess it is, Miss McMillian. I’ve been Marcus’ sounding board for years, and since he offloaded so many memories of you, I’ve learnt a lot.”

  “He talks about me?”

  “Every day. I thought he’d move on from his heartbreak and the broken man I picked up from the lock-up in my taxi, but he never did. I assume talking about you, and frequently, keeps you real to him, keeps you alive.”

  “Lock-up?”

  The bellowing laughter that spews from his mouth makes me jolt.

  “How is this funny?”

  “It’s not really.”

  “Then why are you laughing?”

  “Because you were the reason he was there.”

  Gasping in shock, my chin tips back.

  “And I happened to be the person who drove the taxi that collected him the following morning. Drunk and disorderly is not a great look for an up-and-coming lawyer, but one he took on the chin.”

  “This is going to be a strange question. But I’ve no idea how old Marcus is.”

  “He’s twenty-nine, Abigail.”

  “Okay,” I whisper. “He’s very young to have such a position in a law firm, isn’t he?”

  “If you mean partner, yes, he is. But he’s exceptional at what he does. He fights for those who really need to be fought for.”

  “Was he already a lawyer when I met him?”

  “No, ma’am, he was still studying at the university in Brisbane. I guess it was made easier for him. His father was a partner in a law firm, so he got plenty of hands-on experience. Marcus was born to do this. His father and his grandfather were both lawyers. It’s in his blood.”

  A sudden hush falls in the car as we pull down a small dirt road that leads past a high concrete building. Four large spotlights come off the building, supplying light into the distance. Spying a single plane on what must be the runway makes my heart heavy. Why must it be this way?

  “We’re here!” Grady exclaims as the rain increases its force against the car. “They won’t have arrived yet, but soon. We’ve got clearance to fly, so it shouldn’t be much longer now.”

  “The pilot?” I ask quietly.

  “Yes. The pilot and air controller. The pilot’s a good friend of Marcus’ and very experienced. Thirty years under his belt. You’re in safe hands.”

  “Safe hands,” I repeat mechanically. “Can you tell me more about Marcus and the lock-up while we wait?”

  “Sure. What do you want to know?”

  “You said he was there because of me.”

  “He was.” Grady shifts his body so he faces me. His posture tells me he’s incredibly tired, so do his droopy eyes. “The night he said goodbye to you at the hospital after your fall was the night he wrote himself off. And by write himself off I mean drank himself into oblivion. Marcus was found trying to fight a man three times his size. He was fearless with all the drink under his belt and still is, if he ever hits the bottle. The police apprehended him and he co-operated. Honestly he was too drunk to resist. They never put him in cuffs. They just wanted to give him somewhere to sleep it off. Long story short, Marcus urinated on the patrol car tyre, and they weren’t overly happy as you can imagine. He spent his night in the watch house and was released the next morning. They didn’t even end up charging him. That’s when we met. They called him a cab, and I was it.”

  “Marcus told me some of this story when I met him on the Coast, minus said tyre incident and the extent of his intoxication. He said, ‘The love of my life forgot me, and I was nothing to her anymore. I’d be surprised if she ever remembers our time together. Sometimes something so life defining for one person is meaningless to another. I guess I was feeling hopeless and that led to my night in the clink.’ The love of his life was me.”

  Grady nods his head before sighing. “He loved you, Abigail. Really loved you.”

  “So it seems.” I find myself biting my thumbnail. “Where did he go after this happened? Sammy, my friend, said that he was supposed to stay invisible.”

  “Well, he has bounced around a bit. He was working as an undergraduate at Sims, General, and Klein on the Coast with his dad, Peter, when you had your fall. I’ve done a lot of driving for Marcus after the day I picked him up, so he got me
a job working for the company.”

  “How old are you seriously?” I blurt out as he looks too youthful to even have had a licence back then.

  “Thirty-five.” Grady’s brows draw together in confusion.

  “What is your secret? You look twelve.”

  “Twelve.” He chuckles. “I don’t know whether that’s a compliment or…I’m actually not sure how to take that.”

  I giggle at his response and his now flushed cheeks.

  “Can I continue?”

  “Please do.” I snigger.

  “When Marcus first moved to Melbourne, I went with him. He worked at the office there for a while. Then he came back to the Sunshine Coast for a few months. It was too hard for him to stay away from you like he had promised, so he moved to Sydney and tried to settle down. I moved with him. His father retired not long ago, and he was offered his share of the partnership. That’s what brought him back to the Coast. I stayed behind with my new wife.

  “Congratulations on the nuptials.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Why are you staying in the house in Sydney if you’re married and live here?”

  “I always do when Marcus is in town. It can be a twenty-four-hour job when he’s here. Let’s just say Marcus throws himself into his work, a permanent distraction, if you will.”

  “Workaholic, got it.”

  “This case he is working on this week was really hard on him. It’s important, Abigail, and he has to stay here and close it. I can’t have his head chasing dreams of being with you. I need him to focus and do his job.”

  “It’s a horrible case.”

  “It is, and this one brings back memories of Victoria’s death for him.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Victoria was abducted and killed, Abigail.”

  “Oh my God, no!” My mouth falls open and my breath hitches in my throat.

  “I’m afraid so...”

  “The day my dad died,” I mutter.

  “She was found the day after your dad died. Nobody realised she was missing until that morning. It’s sad really. A night on the town with friends turned into such a tragedy. Marcus was supposed to stay at the Coast that weekend, but Victoria made sure he went back to Brisbane to study. He had an important exam the following Monday. She was always looking out for him like that. She was stubborn like you, Abigail, and although Marcus tried to get her to let him stay, she wouldn’t have it. Naturally, Marcus has blamed himself ever since. The coroner was able to establish that she died the day before. That brought Marcus some peace, I guess, mainly because she only suffered a few hours and not days.”

  “Oh my God. Poor Marcus. I can’t imagine.” I sit shell-shocked.

  “You were the person who kept him strong, Abigail. He is a kind and giving man, our Marcus, and he needed someone to need him more than his grief, so it didn’t engulf his existence. You were his saviour, as much as I believe he was yours.”

  “And then I forgot him—us. Disposed of all our memories like they were rubbish. I’m a horrible person,” I cry out, dropping my head to my lap.

  “I have to make him stay in Sydney, and I will, Abigail. He must see this case out for personal closure. You can see this now, right?”

  I nod slowly.

  “I promise once it’s finished, I’ll return him to you, if you promise to leave him and make no contact.”

  “I promise.” I sniffle.

  “Please, Abigail, you need to remember what happened, but you need to do it without Marcus by your side.”

  “I’m trying,” I scream as my heart throbs to the beat of my pulse.

  “That’s all I ask…it’s time to go now.”

  “Now?” I croak out between sobs.

  “Yes.”

  Homecoming

  I watch the raindrops dribble down the plane window but, apart from that, there is only darkness.

  The pilot is very kind. He was introduced to me as “The Captain.” I’m pretty sure this is a name for someone who controls ships, not planes, but I go with it. I was referred to as “Marcus’s Abigail.” It seems Marcus has spoken to many about me. The plane is very small. It’s the smallest plane I’ve ever travelled on, an old double propelled thing.

  Every pocket of air causes us to bump and jump around with the turbulence. After thirty minutes we seem to find a smooth run. It’s probably due to the fact that we’re out of the storm. With heavy eyes, I allow myself to close them in hope of sleep, praying it relieves the feeling of the sand grains seemingly caught under my eyelids.

  “I love the highway, Dad.” I smiled with my hand dancing through the wind out of the open window. The greenest of green scenery raced by.

  “Me too, sweetheart.” Dad looked in his element with the steering column of Rodger, his beloved navy Dodge D5, between his fingers.

  “So are you going to tell me why we are going into Brisbane yet…? No,” I snapped, tapping my finger against my chin. “Let’s see if I can guess. A shopping spree…my graduation present…no, my eighteenth birthday present?”

  “Wrong, wrong, and wrong,” he answered cheekily as I looked at his neatly trimmed beard and his bright green eyes.

  My lip dropped, and I pouted, the pout that made Dad give me anything I wanted.

  “Hey, quit it with those eyes, young lady.” He grinned.

  “I love you, Dad.”

  “Ditto,” he replied as the sunlight danced like sugar plums around his head.

  “So spill the beans.” These words caused him to breathe heavily, and when his eyes met mine again, they were soft yet sad. “What’s wrong?”

  “Abstar,” he began, hesitant to continue. “I made a mistake. A whopping big one. And I want you to know that I’m deeply sorry.”

  “Dad...” I bit at my lip.

  “I want this to turn out okay. Well, I’m hoping. I need to do this with you now before too much more time passes.”

  “You can’t adopt me out now. I’m much too old, you know,” I interrupted, hoping to prolong a situation I could see was going to cause me hurt.

  “I’m not adopting you out, silly girl. This isn’t one of those joking times, Abstar. I need to be serious now.”

  “Okay,” I muttered.

  “So about a month ago I was given some news.”

  “No. Dad, are you dying? Please don’t tell you’re sick, have cancer or are dying. I can’t live without you. Are we going to the Brisbane hospital? Oh crap, we are, aren’t we?”

  Dad placed his hand on top of mine, which was resting on my knee. “Stop. Don’t get your knickers in a knot, sweetheart. I’m not dying. I’m going nowhere near the pearly gates of Heaven for a very long time, yet. Now breathe before you turn blue.”

  “You’re scaring me.”

  “I don’t mean to. I just can’t find the words to tell you what needs to be said.”

  “You’ve never had trouble before.” My thumbnail slipped between my teeth, my nervous habit that provided safety.

  “Baby girl…I was so drunk and stupid. Actually, I don’t want you to think you can do these stupid things when you’re drunk, so scrap that.” His words hesitant, his breath laboured.

  “Dad, I promise whatever it is, it will be okay. I love you. You’re my daddy. You can say it.”

  And just as he went to speak, Rodger the Dodger started barrelling smoke from under the hood and the car chugged to the emergency lane off the highway.

  “Oh buggar,” Dad scoffed, opening the driver’s door. “Don’t do this to me now, Grandpa Rodger. What has you burning up, old friend?” he spoke out loud to his very favourite car.

  “Dad, what’s the problem?” I jumped out to help him, and the warm sun instantly heated my skin.

  “Not sure yet, baby girl. Step back while I get this hood lifted.” Smoke puffed from under the cover like that from a steam train. “I’m going to have to call someone to help with this. Stand clear of the old guy, will you.”

  “Okay,” I shouted out as he approached
the driver’s door.

  One step, two steps, three steps to the side, I stood watching puffs of smoke drifting across the highway.

  “Hey, mate, have a wee problem,” I heard Dad say before I looked over the roof of the car and saw him grinning his cheeky grin at me with his mobile phone in hand.

  Screech! The sound was deafening.

  “Dad, watch out!” I shrieked at the top of my lungs.

  Bang. Crash! The crunch of splitting metal raced through my ears.

  “No,” I wailed.

  Roger pushed towards me, another car forcing him my way. I stood stilled, shocked, frozen. The car spun around my body, missing me on every turn. The entire world slowed as, frame by frame, it played out almost motionlessly. I tried to scream as my head turned to witness Rodger reared up on its side before it flipped repeatedly.

  “Dad,” I screamed when I could find my voice again. My breath hitched and my legs gave way. I was falling…

  “I’ve got you,” he said. Chocolate eyes stared into mine. “Holy shit,” he cursed with his mouth wide open.

  Marcus.

  My eyes spring open. I’m huffing and puffing, the fear I’m experiencing palpable. I calm my breathing, but I still feel like I’m falling. “Marcus caught me. I’m awake?” Confusion. “Holy fuck, we’re actually falling,” I cry out when it becomes apparent the plane is hurtling towards the ground.

  “Don’t panic, Abigail.” The Captain’s tone is strained. “I’ve got this old girl under control. I’ll get her to the ground. Hold on tight.”

  “Holy fuck…holy fuck,” I repeat under my breath as my life flashes before my eyes, stopping on a vision of Marcus, who is peacefully standing in front of me. A wide smile, a small scar no bigger than my fingernail, a face of a god that gazes at me adoringly. We’re dancing on top of a mountain. I’m blissfully happy as my skin glows in a flowy blue dress. The dress fans outwards as I’m spun, causing me to laugh loudly.

  “I love you, Abigail,” Marcus whispers, pressing his body to mine. His warmth leaves me as he drops to one knee. A red velvet box opens. I take a step back as my heart bursts with excitement. I squeal, stepping back a few more times…I slip. I’m slipping. I fall. My hands cling onto a cliff face as my nails scrape through the dirt. I’m not stopping, I’m going over. The pain in his voice as he screams my name is torturous. I can’t hold on. I’m falling…