“Since birth, presumably,” I snarled.
“Wow, Charli. What a freak show.”
“Thanks for your support.” My tone did nothing to mask my hurt.
I turned to walk away but Nicole grabbed the hood of my jacket, pulling me back. “I didn’t mean it like that – it’s just… weird.”
I shrugged her off. I had just told her the biggest news of my life and my best friend found it weird.
“It’s not weird, it’s my life,” I hissed.
“I guess that explains why Alex has been acting so strangely all week,” she mused, still ignoring the bigger picture. “I thought it was because I’d quit.”
“You quit?”
“It was taking up too much time.”
“Nic, we’re supposed to be saving money. We’re leaving in a few months,” I scolded.
She shrugged. “Adam is giving us the money from the boat. That’s more money than we’d ever earn selling postcards and working at the café. Ethan said it’s probably worth twenty grand.”
The girl in front of me was no one I knew. Her words revolted me. Adam had worked on the boat day and night for weeks. I’d never felt comfortable with him gifting me the proceeds when it was sold. While it was true that we were pooling all our money, Nicole claiming a stake in the proceeds of his boat was a stretch by any measure.
She didn’t notice my growing fury. “We can go anywhere with that kind of money, Indonesia, Fiji, Africa…”
In all the years we’d been planning our trip, Africa had never rated a mention. Alex had a list of no-go zones. Africa was one of them, along with a zillion other places he deemed unsafe for two girls travelling alone. The ideas spewing out of Nicole’s mouth were not her own. And I knew who had put them there.
I knew that Mitchell and Ethan would breeze out of town as quickly as they’d arrived. All I had to do was ride out Nicole’s abominable behaviour until then. Even if she was foolish enough to invite Ethan to tag along on our trip, he wouldn’t wait that long. We were stuck in the Cove for another four months.
The ride home from school that day wasn’t the usual leisurely drive. Adam just pushed the passenger door open for me rather than getting out to open it.
“Where’s the fire?” I teased, slipping into the seat.
“No fire,” he replied. “I have to get back to meet Norm at four. He’s coming to check out the boat.”
“So it’s done?” I asked, excited that he had finally finished it.
“Completely, even the name. Gabi painted it on for me.”
Norm was waiting when we got there, his ancient station wagon parked right in front of the shed, so close that we had to squeeze past it to get in the door. “Well, isn’t she a beaut?” he announced, sweeping his hand along the hull.
I had to admit, Adam had done brilliantly. The boat was far from ugly now. The wood was smooth and freshly painted royal blue. The exposed wood on the deck gleamed under new varnish, and her name was written in white letters across the stern.
La Coccinelle.
“How can you sell it? Are you sure you don’t want to keep it?” I whispered, grabbing Adam’s sleeve.
“I have the original Coccinelle,” he whispered. My heart missed a few vital beats.
Norm paced around the boat, tilting his old towelling hat a hundred times, deep in thought. “I’ll give you thirteen thousand for it,” he offered.
Adam folded his arms, staring blankly at the boat, obviously much better at the poker face than Norm, who misconstrued his silence for rejection and upped his offer.
“Can you give us a minute, Norm?” he asked.
“Sure, sure,” replied Norm, turning his back as if that would dull his hearing.
Adam pulled me down to the bow.
“I had no idea he was interested in buying it. I thought he was here to offer a valuation. What do you think?” he whispered.
“I think its Norman Davis. He’ll love this boat,” I replied.
“He was very quick to make me an offer, Charli.” Absentmindedly, he swept my hair off my shoulder. “That leads me to think it probably is Huon, and it’s probably worth twice what he’s offering.”
I knew Adam well enough to know that seeing his boat go to a good home would win out in the end.
“He’ll treasure it,” I promised.
Adam turned back to Norm, who was pretending not to listen.
“Mr Davis,” he said, clapping his hands together, “you have a deal…under one condition.”
“Name it,” said Norm, looking a little scared.
“You don’t change her name. The name has to stay.”
Norm looked at the white lettering on the stern, and tried to pronounce it. “What does it mean? It’s not voodoo is it? Floss would never approve of anything voodoo.”
Adam laughed and I nudged him in the side.
“It’s not voodoo Norm,” I assured. “It’s French. It means ladybug.”
Norm leaned forward, shaking Adam’s hand so hard that his whole body jerked.
“Pleasure doing business with you, young fella,” he said, revelling in his negotiating skills. “What about payment? Would you prefer cash or cheque?”
“Cheque. Make it out to cash and see that Charli gets it,” he instructed.
Norm looked at me and winked. Perhaps he thought my negotiating skills were as stellar as his. Embarrassed, I looked to the floor.
We were making our way back to the house when Gabrielle burst out the front door, handed me an overnight bag that Alex had packed for me and put in her car. He’d been sending her home with clean clothes for me all week – one outfit at a time.
“Call Alex. He misses you, Charli,” she said, backing down the driveway, dangerously close to the letterbox.
Adam motioned to her to stop. Too late. “That’s going to hurt,” Adam murmured.
Gabrielle got out and inspected the damage. “This is a sign,” she yelled, pointing at me.
“No,” I uttered, terrified. “It’s a letterbox.”
Adam choked.
“No, silly girl. I have played postman for Alex all week, passing on his messages. I have just run over my mailbox. I can receive no more messages!” she yelled, brushing her hands together as if she was dusting them off.
“Perhaps we should shoot the messenger,” suggested Adam, riling her even more.
Gabrielle looked so angry that I stepped behind Adam for protection. “Charli, go home. Give Alex a chance to explain. He loves you and in case I haven’t made myself clear, he misses you.” She barely slowed her pace as she passed.
Adam waited until she was in the house. “I think she just went postal,” he murmured, making me giggle.
I’d had four days to get used to my new life. There was no going back, but the only person stopping me from moving forward was myself. Alex had reached out to me a hundred times via the strung out Parisienne, but I’d been stubborn and selfish and kept my distance.
It was time to go home.
25. Compromise
Alex was in the lounge pretending to watch TV. The setting was staged –the splinters on his shirt gave it away. He’d been chopping wood, probably up until the second he saw me pull on to the driveway. The woodpile must have grown tenfold that week.
As soon as I walked in he switched off. “Ask me anything, Charli,” he said, getting straight to it.
“Okay. How much wood did you chop today?”
Realising he’d been caught out, he pulled a face. “A bit,” he conceded.
I flopped onto the couch opposite him. Alex picked splinters off his shirt while he waited for me to speak.
“Tell me about my mother,” I said finally. It was one of the most important things I’d ever ask him, but I sounded uninterested.
“I loved her, Charli. You have to know that. She was bright, sweet and unbelievably beautiful. I don’t think we spent a day apart for two years.”
His eyes drifted away. He smiled slightly as he spoke and I knew he was v
isiting a good place.
Box number one had been checked. At least he loved her.
“Were you scared when you found out she was pregnant?” I asked.
Alex gave a sharp laugh. “Scared doesn’t even begin to describe it.”
“She could’ve had an abortion.” My glib tone suggested that would have been an easy option.
Alex frowned.
“Or adopted me out,” I added.
“That was the plan. Olivia knew from the very beginning that that was what she wanted to do. She wanted to get her life back.” He smiled at me. “Her plans were always big.”
“What were her plans?” I wanted him to tell me something that I could align myself to. Maybe she was the reason I was a little weird.
“She wanted to be a dancer. A ballerina,” he clarified. “I can still remember the way she moved. Olivia didn’t walk in a straight line if she could help it. She glided and twirled everywhere she went. She was gorgeous.” His voice trailed off at the end. His smile started slipping.
“So I get my looks from her, then?” I suggested, trying to keep him talking.
His face brightened. “Definitely from her.”
I reached for the throw rug and pulled it forward, needing the distraction while I worked up to my next question.
“Why didn’t you go through with the original plan of adopting me out?”
“You gave me no choice, Charli. I fell in love with you the second I saw you.”
“But Olivia didn’t?”
Alex shook his head. “She was stronger than me. We were young, broke and clueless. She was adamant that giving you up would mean giving you the best life possible. I was the selfish one. You are the very best part of me, Charli. How could I have given you away?”
“What happened to her?” I asked in a small voice.
He grimaced as if my words caused him pain.
“She had her plan, and to her credit she stuck to it. She never held you or named you or even really looked at you. I guess that made it easier for her to cope. She moved interstate to live with relatives soon after you were born. I never heard from her again. I’ve always made sure our number was listed, just in case she changed her mind, but I’ve never heard from her.”
“Do you hate her for that?” I asked, wondering if I did.
“How could I ever hate her? She gave me you.”
It was quiet for a while. I watched him, studying his face carefully. In a lot of ways, I was looking at him for the very first time, drawing comparisons that I’d never made before.
We both had brown eyes. But now I had his eyes – my father’s eyes. The concept was strange.
“Would you ever have told me if Adam hadn’t found out?”
“Of course I would have,” he insisted. “Boy Wonder’s mad translating skills just sped up the process.”
“When?”
“I had a deadline. You need a passport to travel. You need your birth certificate to apply for a passport.”
Nicole had organised her passport months earlier. When it came to doing mine, Alex had kept delaying me. Now I knew why.
Floss had demanded total understanding from me where Alex was concerned. At first I wasn’t sure I could give it. But over the past few days I’d lost the anger. I’d also lost a lot of the curiosity. Initially I’d wanted to know everything. Now my questions were more basic. Most of Alex’s answers were basic too. He stuck to the facts, telling me only what I asked.
I went to bed tired enough to sleep for days, but woke at four in the morning with one more question burning at me. I stood in his doorway, calling his name loud enough to rouse him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked sleepily.
“I have to ask you something.”
He reached across, fumbling with the lamp as he switched it on.
“Now?” he asked, shielding his eyes from the light with his forearm.
I crawled onto the bed, laying my head on the pillow next to him. “It’s really important.”
“I’m listening,” he mumbled groggily.
“You said that Olivia didn’t name me,” I reminded, hoping he was awake enough to keep up.
“No, she didn’t. I named you.”
I leaned over, pulling his arm away from his face so he’d look at me. It made no difference – he kept his eyes closed.
“Since when have you been a fan of nineteenth century England?”
Alex laughed. He knew I detested my name.
“I’m not. I’m a fan of Charlotte’s Web.”
I groaned. “You named me after a spider?” I pulled the pillow from under my head and thumped him with it. “What’s wrong with you?”
Alex threw the pillow back. “She wasn’t just a spider, Charli,” he said with reverence. “She was gifted. How else do you describe a spider that can weave words into her web?”
“That’s the most outrageous thing I’ve ever heard,” I complained.
“Charlotte is the perfect name for you,” he insisted.
I huffed in mock outrage. I’d spent the night gathering information about my mother, believing that sooner or later he’d tell me something that I could use to tie myself to her. Learning the origin of my name brought everything into perspective. He could deny it all he wanted, but the truth was Alex Blake spent as much time in La La land as I did.
I was stuck in a strange place. My white knight, the man who had protected, advised and guided me through my entire life, had had a status update. He was my father. Peculiarly, not much had changed. His tight hold on me never wavered. My curfew stood, my lack of aptitude when it came to my schoolwork was still a bone of contention, and boy-wonder-with-the-mad-translating-skills was still on the outer for encouraging my excursion to New York. Adam and Alex barely spoke any more. I don’t think it was intentional – they just never seemed to be in the same place at the same time.
Gabrielle spent a lot of time at our house, and with her never at home, the cottage had become my favourite place to be. Every minute with Adam was treasured – even when we were in the shed.
La Coccinelle was gone and the empty shed looked massive. I sat on the old wooden workbench, watching as Adam packed up the last of the tools. I’d seen him do a lot of packing recently, and hated every minute of it. I didn’t need reminding that I only had him for another eight days.
“What are you going to do with this stuff?” I asked, picking a screwdriver out of the pile of tools beside me.
He took it from me and dropped it into a crate already overflowing with tools.
“Most of it belongs to Alex,” he said.
“So Alex gets his tools back, Norm got the boat…I’m going to have little reminders of you all over town,” I said, forcing a smile.
Adam wedged himself between my knees.
“I have a confession to make,” he said, leaning in close.
“Oh?”
“I sold my car today. You’re going to be seeing that around too.”
“Sold it to who?”
Adam returned to the tools. “I would have given it you but I knew you’d never accept it.” He was stalling.
“Tell me,” I demanded.
“The Beautifuls… well, technically I sold it their father, but I’m pretty sure he bought it for them.”
“Oh well,” I sighed. “There goes the neighbourhood. Maybe we could hide some rotting fish in the glove box or something.”
He smiled at me. “Does your evil know no bounds?”
“I have boundaries,” I asserted.
He manoeuvred his hand under my knees and lifted me off the bench.
“Where are we going?” I asked as he carried me towards the door.
A grin swept his face. “To the house…to cross some boundaries.”
***
Nicole had quit her job without giving notice. Since she’d gone Alex had worked every shift, and the long hours were beginning to take a toll.
I kept to my routine of arriving just before closing so he’d give me
a lift home. “Alex, I have something for you,” I said, waving a bunch of papers at him as I approached the counter.
“Sounds ominous. What is it?”
“Nothing bad,” I assured him.
“So I don’t need to meet with your principal or hire a lawyer?”
I pulled a face at him. “It’s my passport application. I’ve filled most of it out, so you just need to sign it so we can lodge the papers.”
I put the stack of papers on the counter.
He barely glanced at them. “We’ll go to Sorell next week, if I get time. We’ll lodge them there.”
“We can do it here, at the post office.”
Alex stared at me like I was missing something obvious. He picked the papers up and waved them at me. “You want to give these papers to Valerie Daintree?”
I nodded.
“You’re out of your mind. If you wait a few more months you won’t need my signature anyway.”
“I don’t want to wait, Alex,” I informed him. “I don’t care if people find out …unless you do.”
Throwing it all out there would only be empowering if both of us were prepared to let the secret go. His frown showed he wasn’t ready yet.
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he said, handing papers back to me. “Just give me a while to figure out how.”
I nodded but said nothing. There was nothing I could have said that would have reassured him. Alex was dealing with issues much older than me and I had to give him the time he needed. In fact, I was prepared to let it drop indefinitely. At worst I’d have to wait until I turned eighteen in December and no longer need his signature.
It was Alex who broached the subject again, over breakfast the next morning.
“I’ll close up early today, pick you up after school and we’ll lodge the papers,” he told me.
I swallowed. “You’re sure about this?”
He scraped butter across his toast while he deliberated. “Charli, keeping quiet was never anything to do with you. You know that, right?”
I nodded, hoping I looked convincing.
“When I was a kid, we moved around a lot. My mum would spend a few months running up debts, drinking away her money. Eventually the wolves would come knocking.” He smiled, but there was nothing humorous in what he was saying. “So we’d move on. It was that way for years. When I had you, all I wanted was a stable life for us. Mum was so far gone by then that there was no way she could be on her own. Whatever plans I made had to include her. A guy I knew offered me a week of work on one of his boats. It was an opportunity to make some quick money and set us up somewhere new. All Donna had to do was stay sober for a week to look after you.”