The Bastard Takes a Wife (22 page)

Then I realised… I’d been so irrational I
hadn’t seen that it was the actual wedding that was freaking me
out. It wasn’t Sam. If we could get married quietly and simply,
then I’d gladly be Sam’s forever. I would marry him, for better or
worse, rugby and all. My mind was made up. After I’d dropped Paige
back home, I’d find him. I’d explain the things I hadn’t known
until that moment. I’d tell him, I’d marry him anywhere he liked as
long as it wasn’t some whizzbang affair. I’d apologise and tell him
I’d been wrong, that all I wanted was him. Too bad if his family
didn’t like it. They could stay at home.

But would he ever forgive me?

Keys in my hand, I practically pranced up the
limestone steps, opening the glass doors that lead into the
reception area where the children waited when they were being
picked up early. The nausea in my stomach was gone. A weight had
lifted from around my neck.

“Hi,” I said, approaching the Reception Desk.
“I’m here to collect Paige Richards-Shaw to take her to her dental
appointment.”

The receptionist smiled at me. “Your
name?”

“Millie McIntyre.”

The receptionist handed me an iPad loaded
with some fancy screenwriting app and a virtual pen. “Just sign
here. I’ll ring through to her French class. She should have come
down by now.”

She picked up the phone, pressing a button. I
watched as she nodded. A frown formed between her brows. She
covered the mouthpiece with her hand. “That was Paige
Richards-Shaw? Right?”

“Yes.”

“In that case we seem to have a problem.” The
receptionist put down the phone. She looked at me. “Paige left
class half an hour ago. She said she was coming here to wait for
you.”

Totally pointlessly, we both surveyed the
empty seats of the Reception area as if Paige were going to pop
from under one.

“Are you saying you don’t know where she
is?”

“I’m afraid so.”

*****

“Call Karl O'Callaghan, Brian! Call Colin
Barnett! Do something!”

Understandably, Adele was out of her skin
with worry by the time I arrived back at the house an hour later.
Even her herbal calming tonic didn’t seem to be helping.

“I don’t think calling the Police
Commissioner or the Premier of Western Australia is going to do any
good, Bunnykins. We need to stay calm and try to figure out where
she might have gone. Maybe you could go and dig out her most recent
school photo for the Police when they arrive? They’ll want a
picture of her, for sure.”

Clearly, underneath that unruffled exterior,
Brian was also beside himself. I’d only ever heard him call Adele
‘Bunnykins’ once in all the time I’d known them. He’d been very
drunk.

“How would I know where the photos are? That
ridiculous au pair we got when Millie left the first time
re-organised the whole of the storage cupboard. I’m lucky to find a
handbag these days.”

Feeling the need to be doing something, I
stood. “Why don’t I go and have a look? Would you like me to ask
Cook for a cup of green tea for you on my way past?”

Adele gave a limp smile. “Would you? You are
a dear.”

After giving the instructions to Cook, I
walked down the hall to the storage cupboard, opening the door when
I got there. It was more of a room really, and used to be sorted in
alphabetical order according to categories, somewhat like a library
of stuff rather than books. At least while I was searching for the
photos I’d be able to contemplate the situation in peace. Maybe get
some clue as to where Paige might be.

I wandered down the first row of shelves,
stopping where I thought the photos would be. If I could think like
Paige for one minute, I was sure I could figure out where she’d
gone. I mean, there were only so many places in Perth she deemed
suitable. Maybe she was hiding out in the backyard? She’d recently
remodeled her cubby into a church and we’d played weddings with her
dolls the last time I’d been there. It was worth a try.

Pulling a random cardboard box marked 2011
from the shelf, I lifted the lid. Bingo. It was filled with photos.
I chose a plastic sleeve and took it from the box. It was the last
class set she’d had taken probably about six months ago. I flicked
through the envelope of pictures. The very last one was of a
toothless Paige, looking extremely annoyed at having to have her
photo taken. She’d been livid the day that tooth fell out. Even new
ribbons for her pigtails hadn’t appeased her annoyance at not
having a perfect white smile for the shoot.

I wondered again if she could be hiding in
the back yard? And if she wasn’t there, where else would she go?
And why? Like her mother, Paige always had a motive. If I thought
back over our last conversation, I might get an inkling as to her
whereabouts. What had we talked about that morning? Well, Sam for
one. The wedding.
One Direction
. The Logie Awards.

Oh my God. I knew where she was.

Jumping to my feet, I ran the longest hundred
metres of my life down the hall and back to the living room.
Breathless, I stopped. Adele was holding a cup of scalding tea and
staring out across the entertaining deck in a daze. Brian was
pacing. I tossed the bunch of pictures onto the coffee table.

“These should do,” I gasped, “but if my
thoughts are travelling straight, I think I might know where she
is. Can I borrow the car?”

Putting down her cup, Adele stood. Suddenly,
she was back in business. “I’m coming too.”

Brian put a hand around her waist, guiding
Adele back into her seat and handing her the cup. “No, Adele. It’s
best if we stay here and wait for the Police. If Millie finds
Paige, she can ring us but until then we need to be putting out
every feeler we can.”

Adele sighed heavily. She dabbed at her
watery eyes. “I feel so useless.”

“It’ll be alright, honey. Millie will find
her. You’ll see.”

Digging his hand into his pocket he handed me
the keys to his BMW. “Go get her. Bring our baby back.”

I took the keys and raced out the front
door.

*****

Three kilometres from the house, an orange
warning light alerted me to the fact that the car needed petrol. Of
all the times. I studied it for a second considering whether or not
to ignore it. I’d never driven Brian’s car before but most other
cars let you go for fifty or so kilometres before you ran out.
Would I have enough if I didn’t stop to fill up? Deciding not to
risk it, I turned into Thomas St and pulled into the BP Service
Station. It was better to be safe than sorry and knowing my luck
I’d run out in the middle of the freeway or something. I’d never
get to Paige in time then.

After two wasted minutes looking for the
button to open the petrol cap, I unhooked the nozzle and began to
fill up. I didn’t have time to do a whole tank. Ten dollars worth
would be plenty for the moment.

“In a hurry, are we?” the attendant asked, as
I threw my savings card at him after filling up.

“Just a bit.”

“Make sure you drive safe, then. Accidents
don’t get you there any faster.”

“I’ll remember that.” I nodded and ran out
the door to the car. The quicker I got back into the car, the
quicker I would get to Paige. Eyes locked on the road, I made my
way into the traffic.

A couple of hundred metres further down the
road, Brian’s car began to make a horrendous chugging noise. It
spluttered in a most un-BMW way and as I pulled to the side of the
road it gave a final cough and refused to drive another centimetre.
Shit. Shit. Shit. What the hell was going on? I had no idea about
cars apart from where the petrol, water and air went in. How did I
fix this? Biting my lip, I tossed up whether or not to call Brian.
I didn’t want to worry him and Adele any more and besides, the
Police would probably be at the house and they’d be talking.

There was another person I could call, of
course. Sam’s flat was a minute away by car. I know I’d recently
shoved his heart in a blender but surely he’d come if I explained
what had happened? Failing that there was begging.

Fingers shaking, I slid my phone from my
pocket and found Sam’s number. I heard the ringtone and that wave
of nausea that had left an hour or so before returned with a
vengeance. I gulped it down. Please answer, I pleaded silently.
Please.

It went straight to message bank, which, of
course it would, given that I’d been a complete bitch two hours
before. I mean, why would he want to talk to me? I wouldn’t answer
his calls if the shoe were on the other foot. I sat for a minute
biting my lip. Then, I tried his home phone. He didn’t have caller
I.D on that so hopefully he wouldn’t know it was me.

After three rings, it picked up.

“Hello?”

Sam’s mother. This was not what I needed.

“Um, ah, hi Patricia. It’s Millie. Look,
please don’t hang up. I need to talk to Sam. It’s urgent.”

I could feel the ice from her voice spreading
through my fingers as I gripped the phone.

“Sam does not wish to speak to you. And quite
frankly, I think you’ve done enough damage for one day.”

Yes. I knew that. I didn’t need to be
reminded. What I needed was some help. I took a deep breath.

“I realise I’m not the most popular person
right now, but…”

“Not popular!” she screeched into the
phone.

“This isn’t about me or the wedding. Paige is
missing. I need Sam.”

“Millie?” Sam was on the phone. Patricia must
have had it on speaker or something. “What’s up with Paige?”

“I went to pick her up from school after I
left you and she’d run away. Adele and Brian are beside themselves.
They’re talking to the Police now. But listen, I think I know where
she is. I just can’t get there.”

“Why?”

“Brian lent me his car and I filled it up
with petrol and now it won’t go.”

“What did you fill it with?”

“Petrol!” God, was he going deaf with his
injuries or something?

“Brian’s Beemer is diesel.”

Fuck.

“That’d explain why it won’t work then.”

I wanted to vomit. I wanted to bang my head
on the steering wheel until it bled. I’d been so concerned with
getting to Paige I’d tucked that minor ~ yet vital ~ fact into the
recesses of my brain. If I had one. “I know it’s a lot to ask but
can you come get me? I’m only round the corner from you in Thomas
St.”

“I’m in the car already.”

*****

After I climbed into Sam’s car and buckled my
seatbelt, I realised that he looked even paler than he had at
lunch. I wanted to believe that it was because he was worried about
Paige but I knew I was kidding myself. He was hurting and it was my
fault. Unable to stop myself, I reached over and put a hand on his
knee. He shrugged me away.

“Are you alright?” I asked.

“What do you think?” His eyes stayed focussed
on the road. “Anyway, this isn’t the time to discuss it. Where’re
we going?”

“The airport.”

For the first time, he turned to face me.
Beneath his bruising I could see the redness rimming his eyes. He’d
been crying.

“She’s seven, Mill’. She’s not going to be at
the airport.”

“She’s also obsessed with
One
Direction
and fairly pissed off that her friend Jennifer is
going to see them at the Logies Red Carpet.”

“And how do you think she’d get a plane
ticket? I’m gathering we’re talking about her going to Sydney?”

“This is Paige, Sam. How did she manage to
order a ‘flipper’ from the U.S. to be sent over in time for the
wedding so that she’d have a perfect smile in the photos?”

“Yeah. I forgot how resourceful she is.” He
turned back to the road and continued to navigate the peak hour
traffic in silence. It was only twelve kilometres to the airport
from Subiaco. It felt like fifty.

Twenty-five minutes later, we parked the car
in the one hour parking and raced to the Qantas terminal. It was a
long shot but I figured she’d be there. Paige knew the ins and outs
of the Qantas Club like it was her own bedroom. She’d never go on
Virgin Airlines. It was way too low rent.

Eyes searching the queues, I ran towards the
first available counter, barging my way in front of a woman who
looked as if she’d like to throttle me at the imposition.

“Excuse me but you haven’t seen a little girl
wearing a green checked school uniform, have you?”

The skinny man behind the counter kept his
voice to a monotone. “We do have protocol. Can you get in line,
please?”

“We’ve lost a little girl,” Sam butted in.
“And we need to find her. We think she may have bought a ticket to
Sydney.”

“No child would be allowed to buy a ticket
over the counter.”

It was pointless. We weren’t going to have
any luck with him.

“Never mind,” I said, grabbing Sam’s hand and
pulling him towards the escalators that led to the gate lounges. If
Paige were waiting for a plane, she’d be there for sure. Or the
Qantas Club.

At the top of the stairs, we stopped and I
led Sam away from the landing. We needed a plan and we needed to
make it now. Yes, Perth Domestic Airport was pathetically small and
under resourced as far as retail outlets went but it would be
quicker if we split up.

“Have you got your phone on you?” I asked
Sam.

He pulled it out of his pocket.

“I propose we split up. I’ll go up to the
Qantas Club. You take the shops and the café. If one of us finds
her, we ring the other. If not, we meet here in ten minutes and
panic.”

Sam nodded and before I could say anything
more, he’d headed off into the Australia Shop. At least for once, I
knew he wouldn’t be looking at the Wallaby rugby jerseys.

At the top of the next escalator, behind
sealed glass doors was the swanky entrance to the Qantas Club.
Technically, I couldn’t get in without an invitation or a
membership but that didn’t mean I couldn’t stand in the lobby and
look. The room was reasonably empty for that time of day and it
wasn’t hard to see who was inside. A couple of men in suits sat at
the bar and on the other side of the room, two or three people
stood with plates at the buffet. I craned my neck to get a better
view. Behind the last woman was a very small thin pair of
green-stockinged legs. It was Paige. Lined up at the buffet like
she did it every day of the week. The little monkey.