Nine Letters Long (11 page)

‘Shit! Shit!' She takes the letter out of her pocket, slips it under the door and races back across the road. A car swerves around her. ‘Idiot!' the driver yells.

Her knees almost give way as she collapses back in the chair. In one breath she sculls her glass of water, keeping an eye on the door across the road.

Alex comes back from the toilet. Evie smiles at her. Her heart's beating so fast she's sure it's popping through her top. She crosses her arms and smiles. ‘Hey, Al, did you hand in your art essay?' She's getting good at this deception game.

‘No.' Alex flops back in her seat, upsetting the coffees onto the table. ‘Bum.' She mops up the froth. ‘Did you?'

‘Yeah. On Friday.'

‘I asked Powell for an extension over the weekend,' Alex says. ‘And do you think I've even got it out of my bag!'

‘Do you want my …' The light upstairs has just gone off.

‘Your what?'

‘Um, my notes.' Evie shuffles around in her chair. ‘My notes. Do you want my notes?'

‘Yeah, but what about Powell? He'll get suss for sure and then we'll be in..' Alex's words drift off into the air.

Paris is standing inside the glass door. She bends over and picks something up. When she walks outside, Evie can see it's the envelope in her hands. Paris glances at it before shoving it into her pocket. Then quickly she starts to walk down the street, every now and then looking over her shoulder.

Evie has to stifle the scream in her throat and hold her legs down to stop herself from chasing her.

‘You've gone all red in the face, Evie.' Alex is looking at her, a strange expression on her face. ‘Are you feeling okay?'

‘Yeah.' Evie hears herself squeak. ‘Fine.'

Again, Paris disappears around the corner, leaving Evie with a dread in her guts.

 

‘I knew she was there too, Evie.' Victoria refills Evie's glass with water. They are sitting in her kitchen. The afternoon sun lights up the room. ‘I was waiting and waiting to hear from you. So I can tell you I was most relieved when you called this morning. I'm glad your father's laid down the law.'

Evie gulps down the water. Her mouth is dry. Her hands have been shaking since she slipped Paris's letter under the door.

‘So, by the sounds of it, you've had quite a bit of contact with Caz.'

‘Three times now,' Evie nods. ‘Well, four if you count the first one. I smell her first. There's this perfume around her. It was around Nora too, but it didn't smell the same around her, and yet I knew it was the same.'

‘At least she gives you some warning.'

‘Great!'

‘The messages sound fairly … cryptic,' Victoria says.

‘I wanted to bring my book to show you but I just couldn't risk it. I'm so off the planet at the moment I'd probably leave it somewhere and then I'd never find it.' Evie pushes the hair off her face. ‘This whole thing's becoming a big mess. I can feel it. I've got no idea what I'm doing. My head's spinning and –'

‘Maybe you need a break, Evie. A little distance can help in these situations.'

‘A break!' Evie almost shouts. ‘I can't even hide in my own bedroom. Caz is there day and night. Most of the time she's just hanging around – like a bad smell, ha! But last night was different. Last night she went psycho. Victoria, my cupboard doors were opening and closing like they were on … springs or something. Honest. I am not exaggerating.' Evie gets out of her chair and paces around the kitchen. ‘I mean, that just completely freaked me out. What if it happens again when Mum and Dad are home? Dad's keeping quiet now but I don't know how long he'll keep that up. I feel so bad for him. I feel like a complete liar – well, that's because I am – but how can I let on about what's going on? They'd be so
disappointed, and I can't anyway 'cause of Caz and her not wanting adults involved, excluding you, I s'pose.'

‘Caz obviously doesn't mind me knowing; she just doesn't want to tell me directly.'

‘I'm seriously going out of –'

‘Sshh.' Victoria stands behind Evie. ‘Sshh.' She leads Evie back to the chair. ‘Evie? Evie, look at me. You're the boss, remember. You're the one in charge. Caz shouldn't be doing those things. You have to let her know that.'

‘But I don't know how,' Evie whimpers. ‘I really don't. She's so powerful.'

‘She's not as powerful as you, and she needs you. She needs you to convey her messages.'

‘God, I wish I wasn't like this!'

Victoria puts her arms around Evie. Together they sit huddled on the kitchen chairs.

‘I remember when I first realised I was different.' Victoria's voice is soft in Evie's ear. ‘I was … horrified. Horrified. How could this be happening to me? Night after night a lady sat in the chair next to my window. Sometimes she was crying; other times she just sat there, pulling at her fingers.'

‘That's like me with the little girl at the pin.'

‘That's right,' Victoria answers. ‘Except I was much older than you.'

‘How old?'

‘The first time I saw her I was twenty-one. Just twenty-one.' Evie hears the click of Victoria's throat as she swallows. ‘One night I finally said, “Who are you?” Do you know what she said? She said, “No one. I am no one”.'

‘The next morning I woke to the sound of an ambulance racing down our street. A young woman who lived at the boarding house at number twenty-one had hanged herself. She left a note, four words to be exact. “I am no one.” That was when I realised I'd had a … premonition. It was terrifying.'

‘What did you do?'

‘She stayed in my room for months after that. Finally I said, “It's time for you to go. There's nothing I can do for you here.” And she left.'

‘Just like that?'

‘Just like that,' Victoria says. ‘She just needed some guidance, some direction, I suppose, into the next world.'

‘But, you think there is something I can do for Caz?'

‘Most definitely. It's just that it's not clear. Not yet.'

‘What do you think it is?'

‘It's in the messages.'

‘So do you think she wants me to talk to Nora?'

‘Tell me what she said again?'

‘Ask Nora. Ask her secrets. That's all. Then other stuff that didn't make sense.' Evie shrugs. ‘Well, not to me.'

‘And you gave Paris the letter with the names Caz gave you?'

Evie nods. ‘Well, I'm pretty sure they were names.'

‘They were,' Victoria tells her. ‘Cosmin, Petar. I would imagine all of them are Romanian names. For some reason, that name Cosmin rings a bell.'

‘So who are they?'

Victoria doesn't speak. Evie watches her, waiting for her words.

‘I can't remember where I've heard that name. But I'm not going to ask Nora, and she definitely shouldn't know about the letter. At least not from us. If she's meant to know then Paris will tell her.' Victoria's finger taps at her lips. ‘Let me think about whether or not you should contact Caz with Nora again. I'm not sure, it depends –'

‘I couldn't possibly do it without you!' Evie blurts. ‘Nora makes me really, really uncomfortable.'

‘I know,' she nods. ‘That's why we need to be cautious around her. Nora is somehow … deep in this. She left in such a flurry the last time but she wants to speak to her daughter. I'm sure of that.'

‘So what should I do now?' asks Evie. ‘I mean, what can I do?'

‘Nothing. Go out. Have some fun. Be a teenager.'

‘Sure! I'm having trouble even being a human.'

Victoria smiles. ‘What's your friend Alex up to?'

‘She's love sick,' Evie tells her. ‘And painful.'

‘Well, there we go. That's what a sixteen-year-old should be. Evie, it's important that life goes on.'

‘How?' Evie frowns. ‘How? I can't think about anything else. I can't read. I can't draw. They were things that used to help me escape. Well, that was before, I suppose.' She closes her eyes. Her jaw aches. Her head hurts. Her body feels so tired. ‘I can hardly even have a conversation with my best friends. It's too hard. My head is just full of Caz and now Paris.'

‘Evie, every time this happens, and it may keep happening, you can't just bale out of the real world.'

‘But this is real – for me. This is my world. My reality. I can pretend to others it's not happening but how can I pretend to myself when it's all around me?'

‘You know, I'm going to say the strangest thing.' Victoria shakes her head. ‘But it's just come to me. Maybe it's time not to pretend to others. What I mean is not to pretend around those you can trust. You know who they are, and Caz does too. In fact, she and Athena almost hand-picked them.'

‘Huh?'

‘Caz first spoke to you when your two closest girlfriends were there.'

‘Oh yeah.'

‘I bet Caz had some good girlfriends too. Hmmm.' Victoria nods again. ‘Maybe, just maybe, Evie, she doesn't expect you to do this on your own.'

 

Evie lies in bed, staring at the ceiling, the voices in her dream still ringing in her head.

‘You're scared, you're scared!' Alex is squealing. She wears a long yellow gown that trips her up as she tries to spin around and around. ‘Evie's a chicken, Evie's a chicken,' she sings, and points to something Evie cannot see.

On a corner by herself, Evie stands. ‘I'm not a chicken,' she calls back. ‘I'm not.'

‘Oh yes you are.' Alex begins to flap her arms like wings. ‘Brrk brrk. Brrk, brrk.'

Now Alex is walking towards the thing she was pointing
at. Evie sees it's a box draped in a black cloak. ‘Come and have a look, chicken Evie. I dare you.'

‘No!' Evie cries.

‘Come and have a look, chicken Evie. The answer's under here, beneath the cloak. But you have to be brave enough to take a peek.' Alex slowly lifts a corner of the material. ‘Come on. Take a peek.'

‘No! Stop it!' Evie wants to run over, to save whatever it is under the cloak. For she understands people want to hurt it. Evie has to protect it. If it's uncovered, there'll be trouble. Trouble for all. But Evie is too frightened to leave the corner she is standing on. ‘Don't Alex! No!'

Alex screeches with laughter as she rips the cloak off the box. Out of the box steps Paris Cuza, a piece of green tape strapped across her mouth. Evie begins to run across the road to where Paris stands. As she's running, she sees the cloak has now wrapped itself around her shoulders. Cars and trucks swerve around her as Evie tries to pull the cloak off her body.

Now Evie lies in bed, absorbing the images, piecing them together. She knows what they mean, yet it lends her no reprieve from the dread that sits in her guts.

Evie takes out her diary. She must get this off her chest.

‘I can't believe you let Alex tell Zac to ask Anton Golding to Luna Park!' It's late Saturday afternoon and Poppy is lying on the floor of her bedroom, trying to zip up her jeans. ‘God, I hate it when Mum puts these in the dryer.'

Evie sits on Poppy's bed, a mirror on her lap. ‘Well, I kind of said yes, but to be honest I wasn't listening to her at the time.'

‘She was having a crap-on?'

‘Kind of,' Evie says, concentrating as she puts on some mascara. ‘Anyway, it's too late now; he's coming.'

‘Yeah, but what are you going to do? I think he thinks he's coming 'cause you like him.' Poppy gets to her feet. ‘Do these look too tight?'

‘Touch your toes a few times.' Evie smirks at Poppy through the mirror. ‘That'll loosen them up.'

‘Just don't pricktease him. Which for you, Evie, means don't even look at him.'

‘Pricktease? As if!'

‘Well, you know what I mean.'

‘Have you ever even seen me flirt before, Pop?'

‘Nope. Oh, maybe a teeny weeny bit the other day with Seb.'

‘When?' Evie squeals.

‘On the bus. I saw you two making eyes.'

‘We so were not making eyes, Poppy.' Evie thinks if only Poppy knew how desperately she was trying to avoid his eyes that day. And yet she's right; instead she kept finding them looking at her.

‘Anyway, you'll break his heart tonight, girl.'

‘Oh no!' Evie collapses on the bed. ‘Do you reckon Seb thinks I wanted Anton to –'

‘Yeah! Get with it, Evie. God, you're a vague-out sometimes.' Poppy touches her toes for the last time. ‘There, does that look better?'

‘Yep,' Evie smiles. ‘You look lovely.'

‘Evie, can I ask you something?'

‘Yeah.' Evie's fingers work the fudge through her hair. ‘What?'

‘Well, the last couple of times we've gone out I've noticed you're not wearing vintage stuff, like …'

Evie's hands stop and land in her lap. She stares at them.