Nine Letters Long (4 page)

Evie shrugs. If only she knew.

 

Now alone, Evie can ring Victoria. It's only with Victoria that Evie can relax enough to ask all of the questions hidden inside her head, the things that scare her and the things she doesn't understand.

Victoria is silent as Evie starts to tell her what happened.

‘Remember I once told you, Evangeline, to only attempt a séance with me.'

‘I know.' Evie feels the tears pool in her eyes. ‘But I thought it was okay; just some silly fun.'

‘Did you really?'

‘Well, no,' Evie blurts. ‘Not really. Maybe I had a feeling something was going to happen.'

‘Oh dear heart, I know,' Victoria sighs. ‘You must learn to listen to yourself, even if it's not what you want to hear.'

Evie's tears spill. ‘I just wished I … I could've stopped it.'

‘But sometimes you can't, Evie,' Victoria explains. ‘Your … sensitivity is not something you can control. But you can listen to and trust your instinct.'

‘So this was going to happen anyway?' Evie sniffs.

‘Yes. It seems so,' Victoria tells her. ‘But next time don't ignore the signs. That way you can avoid this sort of thing happening when your friends are around.'

‘So if I hadn't done the séance with them … God, I'm stupid,' Evie sobs. ‘It was horrible. I didn't know what was happening. I'm so, so ashamed.'

‘Evie, there's nothing to be ashamed of. Surely, after everything that's happened, you know that. Somehow Athena would've found a way to you. There's a powerful connection there.' Victoria's voice rises. ‘She's chosen you, Evie.'

‘I haven't told you how it started yet. It was all because Alex likes this guy Zac and –'

‘Tell me that later. I think I have something I need to tell you first.'

‘You already knew, didn't you?'

‘Not exactly,' Victoria answers quietly. ‘But there was something that caused me concern.'

‘Is this what you rang my parents about?'

‘Yes, I'd tried to call them and then I heard your message on my machine a little later,' Victoria says. ‘I'm sorry I didn't tell you as well but I just wasn't sure. Gosh, I've just realised I've made that same mistake. Not trusting my instinct. Perhaps we never learn.'

‘You mean perhaps we never get used to it.'

‘Perhaps.' Victoria pauses. ‘Anyway, let me tell you what I sensed and how it happened.'

Evie stretches out on her parents' bed. She has a feeling this is going to be a long story.

‘You comfortable?'

‘Yes,' Evie chuckles, wiping the tears off her cheeks.

‘You know I don't do many readings these days. Too old. But there's still a couple of people I see. There's one particular lady who comes to see me twice a year. She's been coming for nearly four years now. I don't do an actual reading for her. Instead I act as a go-between, like a spiritual interpreter between my client and her daughter.'

‘So you mean her daughter's … dead?'

‘She died during an asthma attack. She'd be twenty-one now.'

‘How old was she when she died?'

‘Seventeen,' answers Victoria. ‘That was the first time Nora, my client, came to see me. She was beside herself and was desperate to speak to her daughter. There seemed to be a lot of angst and trouble when she died. A lot of unfinished business between mother and daughter. I'm sure you understand that.'

Evie nods to herself.

‘I've always been able to reach her,' Victoria continues. ‘Twice a year, Nora comes. Like clockwork. In May, which was her daughter's birthday, and October the first, the anniversary of her death. I don't know why, but almost two weeks ago, which would've been four years since she died, she wouldn't speak to us. “Cannot talk with you” and “no more” were all she would say. Yet there was something about it I couldn't quite grasp. Something different I could sense.'

‘How do you mean?'

‘I could feel this girl's distress. It was powerful, like she was terrified and suffocating, which is the way she would've felt when she died. But why now? Why do I sense the distress now and never before? It felt like she wanted to tell her mother something but couldn't.' For a second, Victoria is quiet. ‘What a girl can't tell her mother is often something she can tell a girl her own age. And this was what I felt, Evie. She was looking for someone else. Someone of her own age. There is a burden she must offload, I'm sure of that. This is a soul who needs to talk. There is something stopping her from moving on. Maybe this is why she's always been so easy to reach. She must linger in our world.'

Evie's hand grasps her throat.

‘So this was why I called your parents. I feared she was looking for someone else to talk to. Someone of her own mortal age. I sensed it would be you.'

‘So you did tell Mum and Dad?'

‘Yes,' Victoria sighs.

‘And they still let me stay at home on my own?'

‘They were very concerned when I first told them, but that was a few weeks ago. I was certain if she was going to try and contact you it'd be straight away.'

‘So they thought if it hadn't happened by now then it wouldn't happen?'

‘Yes. I was certain she wouldn't be able to wait. She was in so much distress, so much. Poor, poor Caz.'

The saliva suddenly pools in Evie's mouth. She tries to swallow it. Take in what she just heard. Instead, the disbelief dribbles down her chin.

‘C-A-Z. Caz.' Evie wipes her face. ‘That's … that's a word from … last night. I just thought it was Zac backwards. I didn't make the connection. But that must be who it was – “she says you will help me”. Me? Me must be … Caz.'

 

Monday morning, Evie waits for the bus, the familiar dread back in her guts. She leans against the bus stop, chewing on her lip. It's better out here in the fresh air, the spring sun warming her back. Better than at home. She knows her parents are trying their best. Trying to absorb the fact that it's happening again. But their fake smiles and cheery voices will never fool Evie. Her senses offer her no protection. There's no buffer for the times she feels vulnerable too. That's the challenge; there's nowhere to run. And even if she tried, it would find her. Evie knows that.

Seb waves as Evie makes her way down the aisle of the bus.

‘Hey,' he says as she squashes in next to him. ‘I'm just giving Zac shit.'

He looks down at his mobile, waiting for Zac's reply. ‘Ha, sucked in!' he sniggers. ‘Loser!'

‘What is it?' Evie asks.

‘Romania lost the soccer against Spain.' Seb texts back a message. ‘Zac's spewing. They're out of the comp now.'

Seb continues pressing the buttons on his phone while Evie stares out the window, saying nothing.

‘What's up? You don't seem too happy this morning. Mondayitis?'

‘Try lifeitis.'

‘Haha!' But he's not laughing at her. He's laughing at Zac's message on his phone.

Evie shrugs. How could she tell him, anyway? He'll think she's an even bigger weirdo than he already does.

Evie tells herself if she acts normal, Seb will never know what's going on in her head. ‘So Zac goes for Romania? How come?'

‘Yeah.' Seb pulls out a pen and a piece of newspaper from his jacket. ‘He sure does.'

‘How come?' Evie asks again.

‘How come what?'

‘How come Zac goes for Romania?' Evie wonders why she's even bothering to pretend. He hasn't paid her a scrap of attention. ‘Seb?'

‘Oh, sorry.' Seb puts the pen down. ‘Um, well, Zac's family's from Romania. That's why.'

‘Oh.'

He goes back to the paper.

‘What are you doing?' Evie peers over his shoulder. ‘Is that the –'

‘The cryptic crossword,' he tells her.

‘I'm too dumb for them.'

‘Get a life, Evie. It's just a matter of cracking the code. No brain surgery required.'

Evie goes back to staring out the window.

‘You
aregrumpy,' he says. ‘Just like the old Evie.'

His words sting.

‘Ah, that's right,' he continues. ‘Your oldies were away and the girls slept over. Did Alex talk all night?'

‘Something like that.'

‘Zac reckons she wouldn't be too bad if she could just shut up for a bit.'

Evie picks at her nails, trying to distract herself from the agitation bubbling in her skin.

‘Zac mentioned organising a bit of a night out. I reckon Luna Park. Be good going back there, checking it out. What do you reckon? You'd be into it, wouldn't you, Evie? Hello? Evie?'

‘Huh?'

‘What is it?' he frowns. ‘Tell me.'

The bus pulls up at his stop – ‘the pin'. Evie stares at her knees. He glances out the window. She shakes her head.

‘Come on, I've got to get off,' he's speaking quickly. ‘Look, you don't have to be like this with me. Why are you –'

‘I'm … fine, Seb.' Evie pulls up the corners of her mouth into a robotic smile. ‘Really.'

‘Don't lie.' He pulls his bag out from under the seat. ‘I thought we made a deal.'

‘See you this arvo?'

Yes, they did make a deal but Evie doesn't want to go there. Not today.

‘I'm practising with the fellas,' he mutters. ‘See you whenever.'

Seb squeezes into the line of Wolsley boys filing out of the bus. Evie keeps her eyes focused straight ahead. ‘Don't look out there,' she tells herself. ‘Just in case.'

There's a tap on the bus window. Evie's eyes don't flicker. ‘Don't turn around,' her head instructs. ‘Not today.'

Another tap. ‘Evie!' But it's Seb's voice and straight away Evie turns to the window. He's holding something up. ‘Your CD,' he mouths.

Evie tries to slide open the window, but it's stuck and the bus is moving away. ‘I'll get it off you tomorrow,' she calls.

Seb jumps back on to the footpath and waves. Evie smiles and waves back. The little girl's not there today.

As the bus drives away from the pin, Evie thinks of that day back in July when Seb and she made their deal. The day Evie knew she could trust Seb no matter what.

 

‘I still can't believe you didn't know a little girl was killed at the pin.'

‘No.' Evie swallows. ‘It was my secret. I couldn't tell anyone.'

‘It must've been … scary?'

‘Yeah, it was.' Evie hugs her knees. ‘Sometimes I'd see her every day and then I wouldn't see her for months. I forget exactly how old I was but one day I realised no one else saw her … standing there. That's when it got scary 'cause I figured then she must've been … dead. Like a ghost. And then I used to think I was going mad. That was pretty horrible too.'

‘When I'd get on the bus, you'd always be staring straight ahead. You looked like you'd bite if anyone came near you.' Seb shakes his head. ‘But that's why, isn't it? That's why you didn't want to look out the window.'

Evie nods.

‘Geez, and I thought it was because you didn't want me to sit next to you.'

‘Well, that too.' Evie feels her skin turn pink. ‘Sorry.'

‘That's okay,' Seb smiles. ‘I still did. I was a bit overkeen, wasn't I?'

‘Brave,' Evie giggles.

‘Mad, you mean. Oh. Sorry.'

‘Well, it's not like that now.'

‘And you never even heard about the girl being run over at the pin?'

‘Not until you told me.' Evie picks at her nails. ‘I know how pathetic that sounds.'

‘It'd be pretty unbelievable – to most people.'

‘My parents made sure I never knew. Apparently that was my mother's idea of protecting me.' Evie shrugs. ‘If only they'd realised how different my life would've been if I knew that I could see – and sense – these things. Well, I guess
I learnt the tough way. It's been hard to forgive them. Mum mostly. She didn't want me to know.'

‘I'm glad I was the one to tell you.'

‘Seb?' This is what Evie needs to ask. ‘Does anyone else know about … what I see there? I mean, you haven't told anyone –'

‘No one. I swear.'

‘Thanks,' Evie whispers.

‘You can trust me.'

‘I know I can. I really do.'

‘You can tell me if there's, like, stuff going on. I mean, that's if you want to.' Now the colour flushes through Seb's face. ‘You know I've always … well … liked you. Just being your friend's enough.'

‘Thanks, Seb.'

‘So deal or no deal?'

Evie laughs. ‘Deal.'

They shake hands. For a second, Seb doesn't let go. Instead, he squeezes her hand, his eyes fixed on her. And that's the moment Evie knows she can trust Seb, always.

 

After dinner, Evie stacks the dishwasher, dreading the sound of the doorbell. Victoria is coming over to discuss what's happened. Having it so out in the open seems strange, but this is the new way. The post-Adelaide way.

She feels her father's hand on her shoulder.

‘How are you going?' he asks. The frown sits deep in his forehead. Evie hates it when he looks like this. ‘You know we're really going to get a handle on it this time.'

Evie nods then turns back to the dishwasher, slipping the plates into the bottom rung.

‘Evie. Talk to me.'

‘I'm okay, Dad.'

‘Evie, come on.'

Evie rinses the forks then places them into the plastic basket, one by one. ‘Evie, can you just leave the dishes for a second! Come on, love; we've been through so much. Don't shut down on me now.'

‘I'm not … shutting down,' Evie answers. ‘I'm just … well, I'm not sure how I feel.'

The doorbell rings. Evie and Nick stand there, listening to Robin's footsteps along the wooden floors.