Page 14 of The Missing Sister
‘That’s easy enough; it’s at the end of the runway over there.’ The man pointed into the distance. ‘Just walk round the airport perimeter and turn left. That’ll take you up to Headstone Road.’
‘Thanks,’ said CeCe.
‘You guys looking for anywhere to stay? I can suggest a few ideas, eh?’ the man encouraged them.
‘No, we’re going back to Sydney this arvo.’
‘A flying visit f’sure, mate,’ the man joked. ‘Well, why don’t you check in your rucksacks now so you don’t have to carry them with you? Take your togs, though, in case you fancy a dip before you leave. There’s a few ripper beaches around and about.’
‘Thanks, we will.’
The man pointed them in the direction of the airline desk and to their surprise, they were able to check in to the flight for Sydney immediately.
‘Wow, I love it here,’ said CeCe as she dug into her rucksack for swimming costumes and towels. ‘It’s all so casual.’
‘The beauty of small-island living,’ said Chrissie as they set off. ‘And it’s so green – I love those trees,’ she gestured to the tall firs that stood sentinel in rows ahead of them.
‘They’re called Norfolk pines,’ said CeCe. ‘Pa had some planted along the edge of our garden at Atlantis when I was younger.’
‘I’m impressed, Cee, I didn’t take you for a botanist.’
‘You know I’m not, but a Norfolk pine was one of the first things that I ever drew when I was younger. It was terrible, of course, but Ma had it framed and I gave it to Pa for Christmas. I think it’s still on the wall of his study to this day.’
‘That’s cool. So... what are we meant to say when we turn up on these guys’ doorstep?’ Chrissie asked.
‘Same as we did with Mary-Kate, I suppose. After all this, I just hope they’re in. I feel wrecked from an early wake-up, two flights and now two more to go later on!’
‘I know, but it’ll be worth it if we get to meet Merry and see that ring. Whatever happens, we should defo go for a dip in that amazing sea before we leave for the airport. That’ll wake us up.’
A few minutes later, they saw a sign sayingHeadstone Road.
‘What’s the house number?’
‘I can’t see any numbers,’ CeCe said as they passed the wooden bungalows, all sitting in immaculate gardens and surrounded by manicured hibiscus hedges studded with bright flowers.
‘The house is called...’ Chrissie studied the word on the note Mary-Kate had written. ‘I’ve no idea how to pronounce this.’
‘Well, don’t ask me to try,’ CeCe chuckled. ‘They’re all very house-proud round here, aren’t they? It reminds me a bit of an English village, what with all the perfectly trimmed lawns.’
‘Look! There it is.’ Chrissie nudged her, pointing to a neatly painted sign sayingSíocháin.
They stood in front of the cattle grid that marked the entrance to the property. The bungalow was pristine like all the others, and had a couple of large gnomes standing guard at either side of the grid.
‘Those two are dressed in the colours of the Irish flag, and I think that house name might be Gaelic, so I reckon the occupants are too,’ said Chrissie as they carefully crossed the cattle grid.
‘Right’ – CeCe lowered her voice as they walked up to the door – ‘who’s going to do the talking?’
‘You begin, and I’ll help you out if you’re struggling,’ Chrissie suggested.
‘Here goes,’ said CeCe before ringing the doorbell, which sang a little tune that sounded like an Irish jig. There was no reply. On the fourth press of the bell, Chrissie turned to her.
‘How about taking a wander round the back? They might be out in the garden – it’s a beaut day.’
‘Worth a try,’ CeCe shrugged, so they walked round the side of the bungalow to the back of the house, edged by banana palms. The terrace, table and chairs, all protected by a sun awning, were deserted.
‘Damn!’ CeCe said, feeling her heart sink. ‘There’s no one in.’
‘Look!’ Chrissie pointed to the bottom of the long garden, where a figure with a spade was digging in the earth. ‘Let’s go and ask him, shall we?’
