Charlotte and the Starlet 2 (13 page)

Charlotte wanted to talk to her forever. 'I love –'

But that's all she got out before the connection went
dead.

Pat emerged from the tent looking around,
suspiciously. Leila had heard him in the nick of time
and kicked the phone. It slid back to the stump like
a hockey puck. After a quick reconnaissance, Pat
moved back into the tent. That had been close. She
tried to tamp down the excitement she felt. Charlotte
knew. The kid was smart. But trying to find her was
going to be ...

'... A needle in a haystack.'

Charlotte gloomily estimated the odds for Miss
Strudworth. They were sitting in Strudworth's office,
puzzling over how to proceed. Charlotte had told
Strudworth it had been an anonymous informant.

'Come, Richards, don't be downcast. It's a very
good lead. We know she's alive and in the bush, at
least.'

Strudworth advanced to a large map on her wall.
It showed the surrounding districts. Nearly all bush,
thousands upon thousands of hectares of it. Strudworth
batted on bravely, 'We also suspect the operation
is in a national park. We can tell the authorities first
thing in the morning.'

'She said she only had forty-eight hours before she
became pet food.'

'I'm sure they can send up a helicopter. This really
is very encouraging.'

'She said there were parrots nesting nearby. Blue
wings and hood and yellow breast.'

Like she'd been fired from a cannon, Strudworth
shot backwards on her office chair to a crammed
bookcase which touched the ceiling. Her long arm
shot out like a lizard's tongue. Her fingers rattled
across the spines of books, stopped and hooked out a
large hard cover.

'This is what we need.' She slapped the cover. 'Has
every bird in the state in it.'

She flipped it open on her desk, found 'Parrots' in
the index and turned to the appropriate chapter. Each
big glossy page had coloured photographs of the
parrots and a description of their habitats, complete
with maps. It took them several minutes before they
found the one they were seeking.

'The Yellow-Crested Yeoman,' Strudworth read
aloud. For a moment Charlotte's heart leapt with
excitement. Then it came crashing down as she
looked at its habitats. It was reasonably common.

'Remember we're looking for national parks,'
advised Strudworth, reading Charlotte's disappointment.
If they concentrated only on national parks
in the greater district, they had two possibilities,
Gumblemattong National Park to the north and
Yirramandee National Park to the west. Both were
massive. Charlotte mentioned that 'the informant' had
also said she heard running water in the distance.

'Hmm.' Strudworth cast a hawk-like eye over
the parks.

'Then it has to be Gumblemattong, Lake Kavenagh
region.' She stabbed the map with her finger.

Once more Charlotte dared to hope.

'And ants. She was being bitten by big, green and
black ants.'

'I'm no entomologist. That, I'm afraid, had best be
left for the Parks people, but it should narrow the field
further.'

Strudworth folded the book closed.

'Now go on back to bed. There's nothing more we
can do tonight. We have a lot to do in the morning and
you have to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for class.'

'Can't I work on this with you?'

'I wish you could. Mr Graham is coming to stay
tomorrow to keep an eye on how you girls are doing
in class.'

As head of the JOES, Mr Graham could determine
who remained a JOE.

'We mustn't lose sight of the big picture, Charlotte.'

For Charlotte, the only picture that counted was
one of a pretty bay mare.

'Will you call the Parks people?'

'First thing. I promise. Illegal logging is a big
no-no. Don't worry, they'll get right onto it.'

With that assurance, Charlotte allowed herself to
be led back to her room. Hannah was still fast asleep.
Charlotte had almost forgotten what a good night's
rest felt like. She tried to sleep but she was too excited
and worried for Leila. Leila must have been having
a terrible time but Charlotte pushed that thought out
of her head and forced herself to imagine their
reunion.

Charlotte was at Miss Strudworth's office door at
six a.m. Strudworth had been expecting her.

'The Parks people aren't in the office till nine a.m.
but I have left a message to call me urgently.'

'Thanks, Miss.'

Strudworth gazed out of her window to see a car
arrive in the driveway below.

'Here's Mr Graham now. You best get off to your
morning drill and I will let you know news as soon
as it comes to hand.'

Charlotte filled Hannah in as they went through
their morning drills. Charlotte was again riding
Mikey.

'So who was the woman who called?'

Hannah's voice exuded a certain amount of tremolo
as she bounced on Lightning's saddle during a canter.

'She didn't say.'

'So she could be scamming you.'

'No. I am one hundred per cent sure she was telling
the truth.'

Emma and Rebecca rode past.

'How's Lucinda doing?' called out Charlotte.

'How should we know?' replied Emma.

'So much for being a friend,' commented Hannah.

They finished up and returned to the stables where
Charlotte was pleased to find Bevans.

'Good to see you back, Bevans.'

'Nice to be back, Miss Charlotte.'

His smile was short-lived as Emma came striding
up, grumbling that her horse needed to be reshod.

'Sometimes it's good to let the hooves have a little
bit of breathing space,' offered Bevans.

'If I wanted your opinion, I'd ask,' snapped Emma
before hustling out.

Bevans turned a stoic face on Charlotte and
Hannah.

'
Mostly
it's nice to be back,' he said.

Charlotte forced herself to have breakfast and did
her best to concentrate during Miss Batt's maths
class. Mr Graham sat at the back of the class making
small notations about the pupils. At the end of the
class, Strudworth appeared at the door and called
Charlotte over.

'Good news.'

'They've found her?' Charlotte quivered with
excitement.

'Not that good. I spoke to the Head Ranger at
Gumblemattong. He was very interested to hear about
illegal logging. He has sent up a spotter plane.'

'It's still a big area to search.'

'Not so big with that information about the ants.
The black and green ones are called Humbug Ants and
are only found west of the lake, so that narrows the
search considerably.'

The news heartened Charlotte. Surely with a plane
they would spot the loggers.

If it weren't for the fact that Leila knew Charlotte
would be sending a search party, Leila would not
have been able to keep going. Yesterday she had a
little stamina to begin with but the exertions of
the previous day had drained all that from her, a
thousand times worse than the long walk home from
the Oscars after-party. The straps from the harness
were cutting into her shoulders, splitting her coat
and exposing her flesh, which stung with each step.
Flies had begun to buzz around her, searching for
blood and gore. She fought them off as best she
could but she daren't stop for fear of another lash
from trigger-happy Pat. The loggers were putting on
bigger logs today, determined to get as much lumber
as they could from the forest. Leila's muscles ached.
She had hoped the Parks people would send a
spotter plane or a chopper but by midday she had
heard nothing. Her confidence was flagging fast.
Come on, Charlie, find me.

'No good, I'm afraid.'

Strudworth broke the bad news over lunch in the
dining room. Charlotte had virtually no appetite to
begin with but that news made her feel like throwing up.

Strudworth elaborated. 'They sent up a spotter plane
that did circles over the entire area. The canopy is very
dense in parts so it could be difficult to see the logging.
The ranger has gone in himself in a four-wheel drive
but, so far, he has seen nothing suspicious.'

'They have to keep looking.'

Hannah reached across and held her friend's hand.
Strudworth did her best to reassure them. 'The ranger
will continue to search on the ground but I'm afraid
they've had to call the plane away for a bushfire to
the south.'

Charlotte felt herself being dumped in a big black
wave of misery. Time was running out for Leila.

'Don't they realise how urgent it is?' she pleaded.

'The trouble is, we can't be sure the call was
legitimate. It's not as if the caller gave her name, is it?'

'I
know
it was real.'

Strudworth nodded.

'You want it to be but I'm afraid that's not quite
enough for the Parks people.'

'If only Leila could talk,' said Hannah.

Charlotte was so tempted to say something. But
what was the point? Nobody would believe her
anyway. The bell sounded for the end of lunch.
Strudworth announced she had to drive to the city
for a meeting with her lawyer and Lucinda's father.

The news panicked Charlotte.

'But who is going to push the Parks people?'

'Charlotte, there's nothing more I can really do.
We've narrowed down the area, now they're either
there or not. I'm hoping that with this meeting I will
be able to get Lucinda's father to be reasonable.
Otherwise ...'

Charlotte understood. It could be the end of
Thornton Downs. She offered Strudworth the best
of luck and hoped there was enough to go around
because Leila needed plenty too.

'Now I want to look at expressive writing, the use of
adjectives, adverbs and metaphor.'

Mr Craven had a habit of moving his long thin
hands around as he talked.

'Could you give me an example of an expressive
sentence, please ...' His finger rolled out backwards
and then pointed out. 'Rebecca?'

At that moment Rebecca was sucking a strand of
her long red hair, contemplating the ceiling, trying
desperately to decide if she should wear the black and
white one-piece bathers or the side-tie green bikini to
the pool party at Michaely Billingsworth's next month.

'Rebecca?'

It took her a moment to realise everybody was
looking at her.

'What?'

Hannah nudged Charlotte. Mr Graham was rolling
his eyes. Mr Craven swallowed almost apologetically.

'An expressive sentence, please. About anything
you like.'

Rebecca's mind didn't so much flash into action as
very slowly engage.

'Hmm.' A moment or two passed. 'Yup, I've got it.'

Silence followed. Mr Craven suggested nervously
that she share it.

'Oh.' A confident smirk passed Rebecca's lips, she
began her masterpiece. 'The party was soooo cool.
Like, really super-cool and the girl in the white onepiece
was like really, kind of ... hot. And there were
no salads or rubbish like that, just really cool stuff to
eat. And the music was great.' Rebecca beamed to her
audience and almost bowed. Emma shot her a thumbs
up. Craven nervously glanced Mr Graham's way.
Mr Graham remained impassive, making a small mark
in a notebook.

Mr Craven picked up some printed sheets from
his desk.

'Thank you, Rebecca. There is a certain teen
veracity in your prose but let's look at another
example.' He cleared his throat and began reading.
'Her bedroom was almost a cell, small, rectangular,
unadorned, with only one high slit for a vent. The air
so thick it might have been just boiled by a giant's
kettle. Wallpaper curled from pitted plaster like old
band-aids but to Bella, her surroundings mattered
not. For she was possessed by imagination. She lay on
her back, staring at the willow patterns, imagining she
was far from this melancholic apartment block in this
festering city. The sound of night traffic from the
bridge was carried to her through the vent on an
almost airless breeze. Laying there, eyes closed, she
could imagine it was a stream in a pretty forest, with
the whispers of impish nymphs floating above.'

Craven put down the papers as if expecting
applause.

'I like mine better,' said Rebecca. 'All that stuff
about band-aids – gross.'

'Who wrote it?' somebody asked.

Craven blushed and Charlotte realised it had been
Craven himself.

'Just a piece of writing.'

The class began to debate the merits of Rebecca's
effort against his but Charlotte wasn't really listening.
There was something worrying her like a pebble in a
boot. Something about ...

She had it! That bit at the end about the whispering
traffic. From a distance it could sound like a stream.
Maybe what Leila had heard wasn't water but traffic
from a road.

'They're searching in the wrong place.' She was feverish,
shouting down the line to a woman at the
National Parks authority.

'Well, where should they be searching?'

'I think, perhaps, Yirramandee National Park.'

A voice boomed in her ear.

'Charlotte! Class.'

Mr Graham stood behind her, pointing at the class
room. Charlotte desperately urged the woman at the
other end of the phone to let the rangers there know
what she had just told her.

'I will try and get a message through to the Head
Ranger but it might take a while.'

'What about a helicopter?'

'We've got fires. They get priority.'

'Charlotte.'

Mr Graham's voice was even firmer now. Charlotte
told the woman she had to go. She put down the
phone and raced off to class, noting Mr Graham write
something in his notebook.

Later, as she and Hannah dressed for the afternoon
drills, she announced breathlessly, 'I'm going to have
to go there.'

'To Yirramandee?'

'Yes. By the time the ranger gets the message,
if
he
gets the message, it might be too late.'

Hannah was trying to understand.

'But it's fifty kilometres away and you can't go.
Strudworth isn't back and you have to go to classes.'

'That's where you come in.'

Charlotte indicated her bed. Arranging pillows
and a mop, she had made it up to look like she was
sleeping.