Paper Chains (22 page)

‘Ho!’ exclaimed Jack. ‘Look at the commotion you two cause when you walk into a room! Trouble-makers you are, that’s what I’ve always said.’ He chuckled happily while his step-children rolled their eyes collectively. Hannah stopped panicking about the scene she had caused and focused on her family instead. She had never noticed it before, but she suddenly realised that her dad was just as eager to impress his step-children as she had always been. She softened and relaxed.
Ah, Dad, you big old goof. Don’t worry, they love you, I can tell.

She finally allowed herself to look straight into her step-siblings’ eyes and realised that what she saw there was . . . nothing. Not contempt, not disgust. To be honest, the look on their faces could probably only be described as bland indifference. And then she realised why. They had their own lives, their own issues. What did they care about a step-sister who had gone awol for a few months and was now back with her family? To them, it was probably just a vaguely interesting story about someone they really didn’t know all that well.

As Amy turned to greet her brother and sister and the three of them hugged and laughed and chattered as they all sat down, Hannah watched them and was struck by that familiar stab of jealousy from her childhood. What she wouldn’t have given to have been a part of their close-knit relationship when she was growing up.
Oh get over it, Hannah. So you were an only child, big deal. You want a relationship with your step-family then make it happen. And stop whinging about it.

‘So,’ said Carol, cutting through Hannah’s thoughts as she brightly addressed Hannah and Liam, ‘Simon’s just spent two years working in the Greek Islands and Riley’s been travelling around the UK.’

PART FIVE

Taking flight

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

India was seated between two fat men. She knew it was rude to refer to someone as fat, but really, they were enormous. One was in a business suit. The buttons of his lime green shirt strained over his stomach and a few belly button hairs poked out between the gaps. The other man wore a white polo shirt that could have doubled as a tent, and khaki shorts. She felt as though she were seated between two versions of the same person. This is me on the weekends, when I play tennis and try not to die of a heart attack. Over here is me during business hours, see my smart suit jacket? I had to have it specially made, it’s a size extra, extra, extra, extra large. She closed her eyes and pressed her legs together so that her bony knees dug into one another. Shame she was trying not to drink; a few vodkas would go down quite nicely right about now, then she could fall asleep in a drunken stupor, wake in Sydney when weekend-fat-man started trying to squeeze past her out into the aisle.

In the end she fell asleep anyway. And apparently she must have been tired, because she slept right through dinner. When she woke the plane was dimly lit and full of snores. Not surprisingly the loudest of those were coming from her two large friends. Leaning forward she realised her neck felt excruciatingly stiff. Quietly she unclasped her seatbelt and stood. She considered the space between business-fat-man and the seat in front of him. There was no way she could slip through without waking him. A chuckle from the seat behind drew her attention. She looked over to see a young man with long ginger hair that flopped rather sexily into blue eyes, grinning at her. He was seated in the aisle seat. In the middle seat next to him was a little old lady with a mop of white curls and in the window seat was a middle-aged woman. Both were fast asleep, the elder lady with her chin resting on her chest while the younger had her forehead pressed against the glass of the darkened window.

‘Bit stuck, are you?’ he whispered.

‘Seems like it,’ she hissed back.

He stood up and leaned forward to take a look. ‘Way I see it is you’ve only got one option,’ he said.

‘Oh yeah? And what’s that?’ she asked.

‘You’re going to have to take my hand and climb over the back of the seat.’

India stifled a giggle. ‘Are you kidding me? I can’t do that; I might get in trouble from a flight attendant.’

He looked up and down the aisle. ‘No one’s looking. Come on, you’ll have to do it quick before someone comes.’

India relented. ‘Oh all right, fine!’ She placed one knee on her seat, reached across to take his waiting hand and began to clamber over. They both had to suppress more laughter as her bottom brushed against weekend-fat-man’s face on the way across, but eventually she was safely in the row behind and her ginger-haired saviour was stepping out into the aisle to let her past.

‘Thanks,’ she hissed as she stretched her arms luxuriously.

‘Any time,’ he responded, his eyes twinkling flirtatiously at her.

Huh, I think he might be hitting on me.

‘I’m Jonas,’ he added then, reaching out a hand to shake hers.

‘India,’ she supplied politely.

‘What a gorgeous name,’ he exclaimed.

Oh dear, now he’s getting just a bit too smooth.

‘Can I take you for a walk, India? Perhaps we could stretch our legs together?’ India was just about to decline, but Jonas pressed a hand to the small of her back and began guiding her down the aisle.

Bit sure of yourself aren’t you there, Jonas?

He chatted quietly with her as they circled the plane, up and down the aisles. His conversation seemed to vary between clichéd compliments – ‘wow, you have the most amazing legs, India’ – and flattering facts about himself – ‘so you see I’m the youngest accountant to ever make partner in the history of the company.’ India found him revoltingly amusing. When they came to a stop outside the toilet door, Jonas placed one hand on the wall above her and leaned in close to whisper in her ear. ‘Look, I think we both know there’s an attraction here, the air is practically on fire between the two of us. So here’s what I’m suggesting. Let’s just get it out of our system right here and right now.’ And his eyes flicked up to indicate the toilet door behind them.

India smiled. She imagined the two of them disappearing into the tiny space together. She saw herself pushed up against the wall, her skirt yanked up around her, underpants tugged to the side. Jonas with one foot braced against the toilet seat, thrusting in and out with gleeful enthusiasm. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing. The thing was, once upon a time, she would have taken him up on his offer. Not because she found him at all appealing. But because she liked sex, and she had no problem with using a man simply for the orgasmic high he could provide her – or could try to provide as the case sometimes was.

She liked the fact that she was a sexually liberated person. She liked the fact that she did what she wanted, when she wanted, with whoever she damn well pleased. But yet again she was finding herself thinking of someone else. Simon. Bloody Simon. And what he had said to her on the phone – before she had left London in a panic. She couldn’t get the sound of his voice saying those words out of her mind.
Am I truly in love with you? Hell yes.
She realised then that Jonas was still waiting for her answer, staring at her expectantly. Carefully, she stepped out from under his gaze and then pushed open the toilet door and, holding her arm out, she indicated that he should go in first. He looked like a confident, self-satisfied wolf as he stepped inside – she could swear he was just about smacking his lips in anticipation. Then she gave him an over-exaggerated wink as she shut the door on him. As his face disappeared, she saw him nod in understanding; he clearly expected her to come in and join him in a few minutes.

Back in Jonas’s seat, India fell to sleep again almost immediately. She didn’t wake until the plane was descending into Perth. When they had landed and were allowed to depart, Jonas gave her a filthy look as she was making her way down the aisle, but he was stuck between business-fat-man and weekend-fat-man, so she just smiled and shrugged as she continued on past.
Sorry, buddy, but you must know that you’re a bit of a wanker.

Simon placed the phone down on its receiver, stood up and stretched, cracking his stiff back as he did.

‘Heading out,’ he called to his mate Dean, who was letting him stay on the couch. He could have moved back in to his parents’ place, but it felt wrong after so much time away from home. Besides, with parents came questions.
Are you going to stay in Sydney? Do you have any money left? When are you going to get a job? When are you going to get your own place?

Dean just grunted in response and Simon pulled the apartment door closed behind him and jogged down the stairs to the street. He was heading to a bar in Newtown to meet Riley. Mostly he got along fairly well with his eldest sister, but he wasn’t particularly looking forward to today’s catch-up. For some reason she seemed really annoyed with him for coming home to Sydney without consulting her first. Apparently she’d been trying to reach him for a few days – even went to the Greek Islands to see him. But come on, he was a grown man – he didn’t generally feel the need to run his travel plans by anyone, least of all his big sister. How was he supposed to know she had been trying to track him down?

When they’d spoken on the phone just now she’d sounded irritated, her voice clipped as she arranged for them to meet up. He reached the bar first and ordered a drink while he waited.

When Riley finally arrived and came charging through the bar towards him, Simon regarded her warily. ‘So what’s with all the urgency, what’s going on?’ he asked, swirling the liquid in his glass so that the ice cubes clinked together. ‘You’re very pale,’ he added before she had the chance to respond. ‘Too much time spent in dreary England methinks. You need to get yourself some sun, girl.’

‘Simon, shut up. I’m here about India, that girl you’re clearly in love with.’

Simon immediately sat up straighter. ‘What about her?’

‘That weird mail system you told me about, you know, the way she gets travellers to pass her letters along? Well, I’ve got one of her letters for you. And the thing is, it’s got some fairly major news in it for you. I haven’t read the whole thing, just the bit that was posted on Facebook. But I wanted to give it to you in person.’

Simon was only momentarily confused.
Her letter had been posted on Facebook?
But he didn’t want to start asking questions about that right now. He knew which letter she must have: the secret.

‘Where is it?’ he asked sharply.

‘Right here.’ Riley pulled the slightly crumpled envelope out of her handbag and passed it over. She watched as Simon tore it open and pulled out the letter, then pretended to be examining her fingernails while she waited impatiently for him to read it.

When he was finished his face had completely dropped. His eyes seemed to have sunk into their sockets and his hands were visibly shaking. Without a word he held the letter out so that she could read it in full too. He waited until she was finished before he spoke.

‘Riley, what the hell am I going to do? I have no idea where she is now. I spoke with her on the phone, just before I left the Greek Islands. She finally told me where she was staying. But when I got there, she was gone again.’

‘And you don’t know where?’

Simon thrust his head into his hands. ‘No! Fuck, fuck, fucking hell. I was so angry with her for taking off on me. I thought she was just some stupid girl that broke my heart. Dammit, why did she have to be so secretive about everything?’ The outburst caused several people at the bar to look their way, and Riley reached out to squeeze her brother’s arm, attempting to placate him.

Simon drained his bourbon and stared down at the letter that Riley had placed on the bar in front of him.
What the hell was he supposed to do now?

India was avoiding going back to Gingin – but she knew that she was going to have to head out there eventually. It was getting dark, and cold. And she really hadn’t been feeling all that well since she stepped off the plane. Probably just the jetlag she supposed. As she meandered around the streets of Perth, avoiding catching a bus back to her childhood home, she caught sight of a homeless couple, backs propped up against a building, a cardboard sign resting by their feet, an upside down hat waiting for coins from strangers. They were quite young and India couldn’t help but wonder how it was that they’d ended up in this situation. And then she saw the track marks on the girl’s arms and she felt a surge of anger. Drugs. That was what caused people to ruin their lives.

Was that what her parents had looked like? All those years ago, living on the streets of Perth. India knew so little about them, but now she realised just how much she wished she did know. What did her mum look like? Did she have any thoughts for the baby that was growing inside her as she continued to shoot up? Did she get to lay eyes on India before she died? Elyza. That was her mum’s name. And that was all she knew about her.

As India headed towards the bus station, she tried hard to picture her mother. Tried to imagine what she might have been like, the colour of her hair, the smell of her skin. When she reached the station and sat down on a bench seat to wait for her bus, she closed her eyes and imagined.