Nine Letters Long

Cover

Title Page

Dedication

Copyright

Imprint Page

Epigraph

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

Acknowledgements

About the author

The Red Cardigan

The Story of Tom Brennan

Undine

The Janna Mysteries 1: Rosemary for Remembrance

The Circle

‘Three may keep a secret if two of them are dead.'

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
1706–1790

‘Evie? Evie?'

Evie pulls the doona over her head, muffling the sound of her mother's voice downstairs.

‘Evie, it's time to get moving,' she calls. ‘It's nearly a quarter to eight. Come on.'

Silence.

‘Mmmm.' Evie snuggles the doona around her neck whispering, ‘Five more minutes.'

‘Evie!'

‘All right!' Evie yells.

With one eye shut, she lifts the corner of her blind and peeks out. Blue sky. Brilliant blue sky wallpapering the heavens. Evie smiles. Spring is here.

In the bathroom's steamy mirror, Evie watches herself comb her wet hair. She has a new haircut. A new haircut to mark a new beginning.

Evie remembers the hairdresser's horror. ‘Are you sure you want me to cut off all this beautiful hair?'

‘Chop it,' Evie tells her. ‘Chop it all off.'

The hairdresser's face is pasted with anguish as she cuts away at Evie's long fair locks. Evie sits there staring in the mirror, not speaking. Instead, she watches handfuls of hair fall to the floor as a lightness begins to tingle her scalp and a smile curls the edges of her mouth.

It's time to move on, she knows. Athena would want her to.

‘It'll be quite a bit darker with all this length cut off,' the hairdresser tells her.

‘Yeah, I thought of that,' Evie nods. ‘Can you bleach it really white blonde? That was my colour when I was a kid.'
Now Evie rubs the fudge in her hands, the sticky product heating up between her palms. Her fingers work it through the top layers of hair, spiking it up in a messy way that says, ‘I just rolled out of bed and haven't done a thing with my hair.'

‘Perfect!' Evie tells her reflection. ‘I'm getting the hang of this.'

Evie throws the doona over her bed, stuffs books into her bag, then drags her school jumper out from underneath. Shaking it, she holds her breath and pulls the jumper over her head, the prickly wool scratching her skin.

‘Err yuck,' she shivers, squirming her arms into the itchy sleeves.

Evie misses the softness of her red cardigan. She misses the way she could wrap it around her chest, its warmth insulating her from the cold outside. But her red cardigan is where it should be – with Athena's parents. Evie has no need for it now. Again she thinks, ‘Time to move on.' This is what she's meant to do.

Some days Athena occupies every space in her mind. On those days she feels so close the hairs on Evie's arms wriggle and twist as though Athena has brushed up against her skin. Lately, Evie has sensed her presence. Not too close though. Just a feeling that Athena is watching her.

Evie pulls up the blind. The trees in the back courtyard reach their branches up towards her bedroom window. The same trees that dropped their shrivelled flowers last autumn, covering the brick pavers in a dirty pink carpet.

So many days in April and May Evie sat on her bed, sometimes for hours, staring out the window watching the ground
cover fade to brown, wondering what was happening at school.

Evie recalls the sky turning a murky grey one particular afternoon and wanting to scream and cry, ‘How can this be happening again? How?'

It was June and the trees stood naked.

But this morning tiny buds sit on the branches growing fat and ready to burst into a mass of fuchsia blossoms. ‘Spring,' whispers Evie. ‘A fresh start.'

 

‘Will I put some toast on for you?' her mother asks as Evie bounds down the stairs.

‘Yeah, thanks, Mum.'

Her father looks up from his paper. ‘Gee, I love your hair.'

‘Dad, you say that every morning.'

‘If I had any hair to spare, I'd get the same do, you know.'

‘Dad! Yuck. That'd be off.'

Evie pours herself a cup of tea and waits for her toast to pop. These days Evie enjoys brekky at home. Her mother is a thousand times more relaxed. At last the questions seem to have stopped.

‘Evie. Nick and I were thinking you might want to have Alex and Poppy and some others over on Saturday night.'

Evie looks up from buttering her toast. ‘Excuse me?' she says. ‘Did I hear right?'

‘Come on, Evie,' Nick laughs. ‘We were talking about it last night. It might be fun. Get amongst it and mingle. Alex'd be able to pull something together, wouldn't she?'

Evie turns to her parents. ‘Mum and Dad,' she starts, ‘what are you on about? Is this part of your campaign to … to dehermit me?'

‘There's no such word,' Nick sings.

‘Oh come on; it's not funny.' But Evie is smiling. ‘You know what I'm saying.'

‘Well, it's up to you, sweetie,' Robin says. ‘If you're not comfortable with it yet then –'

‘I'm not saying I'm not comfortable with it,' Evie butts in. ‘I mean, I'm not sure how I feel. I don't know. It still all feels a bit weird sometimes.'

Evie catches her father frown. ‘It's not bad,' she adds. ‘It's a thousand, no, a million times better. Look, don't take offence.' As Evie speaks she turns to Robin. ‘But I'll tell you when I want to have something here. Is that okay?'

‘Sure.' Robin clears her throat. ‘Sure. No need to rush things.'

Evie cuts the crusts off her toast. She's not hungry now. ‘Sorry,' she shrugs.

‘We just want you to be happy,' Nick says.

‘I am happy. Honest,' nods Evie. ‘I'm feeling like the whole world's new.'

Robin goes to touch Evie's head. ‘Don't!' Evie blurts. Quickly, Robin pulls her hand away. ‘It's just my hair, Mum. That's all.' Evie mutters. ‘I finally got it looking right this morning.'

Her mother attempts a smile. ‘It looks great.'

Evie senses she's wounded her. She didn't mean to. It's just that it's early days and mother and daughter must still tread carefully.

 

‘Promise you'll say yes,' Alex says to Evie as they walk to art class. ‘Promise?'

‘What?'

‘You have to say “I promise” first.'

‘No,' giggles Evie. ‘You might tell me to dak Powell.'

‘That's not a bad idea,' Alex replies.

Mr Powell is their art teacher and the adviser for final year major works. Powell and Evie have had their differences. Evie is aware of Powell's suspicion and dislike of her. But this term Evie has decided she's not going to let it get to her.

‘So what do I have to promise, Al?'

‘Well …' Alex starts.

‘Yes?'

‘Will you come to a party with me this Saturday night? Please pleeeease.'

‘Won't Poppy go with you?'

‘She says she'll only go if you go.'

‘Does she now?' Evie says. ‘Whose party is it?'

‘Nathan O'Gorman, a Wolsley boy from Year 11.'

‘Never heard of him.'

‘Me neither,' Alex shrugs.

‘Well, why are you so desperate to go, then?'

The pink flushes through Alex's face. ‘Al? You've gone red,' teases Evie. ‘Spit it out. Who is it?'

‘Zac,' Alex squeaks. ‘Zac Arcos.'

‘That mate of Seb's?'

‘Yeah,' she pants. ‘The one with the gorrrrrgeous dark curly hair.'

‘Interesting, Alexandra. I didn't know you had a thing for him.'

‘Badly,' Alex groans. ‘So you have to come and hold my hand or I'll diiie.'

‘You're trouble!'

‘Seb'll be there too,' she tells Evie. ‘Is that interesting?'

‘Possibly.'

‘So?'

‘So?'

‘Will you think about it at least?' Alex bites her bottom lip. ‘Pretty please.'

‘Mmm, maybe.'

The girls take a seat at the back of the classroom.

‘What'll your oldies say about it? Will your mum chuck a tizz?'

‘You're kidding,' Evie replies. ‘This morning she actually suggested –'

Powell taps the desk at the front. His black jeans sit high around his waist. ‘Evie,' he calls.

‘Yes, sir?'

He taps the desk again. ‘Up the front, please.'

Evie picks up her books. Alex picks up hers too.

‘Alex?' Powell frowns. ‘Sit down. I don't believe your name's Evie.'

As Powell discusses their essay topic, ‘whether artists intentionally set out to provoke reactions', Evie thinks about Saturday night.

To go to a party would be a big step. However, Evie has promised herself that life is going to be different now –
normal. And the fact that Seb will be there is an added attraction. ‘Maybe I will go,' she thinks. ‘Maybe it'll be okay.'

 

‘Powell is a first-class dickhead,' Alex says after class. ‘When's he going to get over it?'

‘You know, maybe I will see if I can come to the party.'

‘Ah!' screams Alex. She drops her books and throws her arms around Evie. ‘I love you! I love you! You don't know how much this means to me.'

‘Are you sure we don't need, like – an invite?'

‘Evie!' Alex shrieks. ‘That shows how long it's been since you've been out and about, girl! Invite, what's that? We'll just turn up. The three of us 'cause Pop'll come now.' Suddenly Alex's face crumbles. ‘Oh, but what –'

‘What?'

‘What if you're not allowed? I mean, your mum's still a bit funny after what happened in Adelaide and stuff. Maybe she won't –'

‘Alex, chill!' Evie tells her. ‘My parents are petrified I'm going to become a hermit. I was trying to tell you, at brekky this morning Mum actually suggested I have people over on Saturday night.'

‘To your place?'

‘Yes!'

‘You're kidding!' Alex looks horrified. ‘You're not going to, are you?'

‘As if,' Evie groans. ‘So she's got to be cool about me going out.'

‘Sounding hopeful,' Alex says. ‘Hey, tell her you get to have the experience and she doesn't have to clean up the mess.'

‘Oi!' Alex calls to Poppy, who's coming down the library stairs. ‘Over here.'

‘Has she cornered you yet?' Poppy smiles.

‘Oh yeah,' Evie laughs.

‘And guess what, Miss Kaldos?' Alex has her hands on her hips. ‘She's coming!'

‘What?' Poppy squeals. ‘You're kidding. That's unreal, Evie!'

‘God, would you two settle down,' Evie tells them. ‘You're making me feel like a retard. Like it's my first big outing or something.'

‘Can't we be happy for you?' Alex asks.

Evie and Poppy roll their eyes.

‘It's all about Zac, you know,' Poppy says.

‘I heard,' Evie answers.

‘I told Evie Seb'll be there.'

‘Yeah?' Poppy turns to Evie. ‘What's the sudden interest between you and Seb? I've been meaning to ask.'

‘We're just friends, Poppy.' Evie feels her face flush. Seb now knows her darkest secrets and that makes him more than just a friend – that makes him someone she can trust, and for Evie that is everything. ‘Just … good mates.'

‘Oh yeah? Since when?' Poppy scoffs. ‘A couple of months ago you wouldn't have shared your oxygen supply with him.'

‘Things change,' Evie shrugs.

 

‘Evie's been invited to a party on Saturday night,' Robin tells Nick as they're sitting down for dinner.

Evie looks at her dad, expecting his face to light up, but instead his forehead crinkles into a frown. ‘Really?' He clears his throat. ‘Wow.'

‘I thought you'd be happy,' Evie says. ‘This morning you were –'

‘We are,' Nick interrupts. ‘Of course we are.'

Her parents' eyes connect then quickly flick away. ‘Whose party is it?' he asks. ‘Someone we know?'

‘A guy from my year at Wolsley.'

‘Does he have a name?'

‘Yes, Dad,' Evie sighs. ‘His name's Nathan O'Gorman.'

‘Never heard of him.'

‘Seb's going, and Alex and Poppy.'

‘Evie, how do you feel about it?' Robin's first words since the announcement. ‘I mean, have you really thought it through?'

‘It's a big step,' Nick adds. ‘I mean are –'

‘Are his parents going to be there?' Robin cuts in.

‘Yes,' Nick nods. ‘Is there going to be supervision? Uninvited guests are a huge problem at these parties. We're doing a story on it next week. A house up on the North Shore was totally destroyed by –'

‘Hang on!' Evie throws up her arms. ‘This morning you guys were telling me to have a party here.'

‘Well, not an actual party,' Nicks corrects.

‘More like a gathering,' adds Robin. ‘And you'd be at home. It's different.'

‘Well, this way I still get to mingle and you don't have to
clean up any mess the next day.' Evie nods at her parents. ‘Hey? Sounds perfect to me. Don't you think?'

Evie looks at them. ‘I don't get it. You're like two completely different people tonight.' Her dad is staring at his plate. ‘Is there something you're not telling me, 'cause I'm sensing something.'

‘We just want you to be safe,' Nick answers.

‘Safe?'

‘Yes. Safe.'

‘Look, I'm fine. I understand it … me … whatever you want to call it, much better now. So, if that's what you mean by safe, then don't worry.'

‘You really do want to go to this party?' Robin asks. ‘And you're comfortable about it?'

‘Yes, Mum,' Evie tells her. ‘Nothing spooky's going to happen.'

‘I didn't say it was.' Robin starts to clear the plates.

‘You finished?' she asks her husband, although his dinner's hardly touched.

‘Thanks,' he nods.

Evie and Nick hear the dishes clatter into the sink.

‘Hey, Evie.' He covers her hand with his. ‘We just want to think about it. Just give us an hour.'

 

Upstairs, away from her parents, Evie telephones Alex.