False Bottom (2 page)

Chapter 2

Christopher pointed to the flashing screen high above his head, on which flight times were listed.

‘Wrong one,' said Amy fixing the pin on her all purpose Save Anything badge.

Christopher had two hobbies: drawing people and worrying. He blinked and looked again. ‘Flight Q9 I can't see it! But it was there before. We've missed the flight.'

Amy checked her Save the Whale watch. ‘It's only 12 o'clock. Our plane doesn't go until 1:45 . That's arrivals ,Christopher. We're going, not coming. We need the departures screen. Over on the other side.'

A breathless airport attendant with legs like a giraffe rushed towards them. She waved a list. ‘Amy? Christina? I'm supposed to be looking after you. Ever travelled alone before?'

Christopher went red. His hair did need a cut, but, ‘My name's Christopher, not Christina! And we've flown about a million times already!' He pushed his round John Lennon glasses back on his nose. He always did that when he was cross.

‘Ah...Your aunt said she had to get back to where she'd parked her goat. Was she joking?'

‘No. Wilhelmina the goat is part of ‘Animal Actors,' Amy explained in a said-it-all-before-kind of voice.

Christopher added, ‘We're okay.We always are.'

That wasn't true. The twins were always falling into trouble. And today was no different.

‘Did you see the mystery flights sign?' Christopher pointed at it.

Amy nodded. ‘Lucky-dip flights. People pay fifty dollars. Then they get a vacant seat on an interstate flight. They have to come back the same day. Joy- riding.'

‘Oh, I thought it was a flight with a mystery happening.'

‘I was looking for identical twins,' the airport attendant said. That's why I couldn't find you earlier. You should be in the unaccompanied minors' lounge.'

Amy didn't like being called a U M but it was better than being called an unaccompanied minor twin. Christopher told everyone he was born first.

‘No thanks. We've been there already, millions of times.' Christopher preferred sketching people or wandering around. ‘Anyway, we're not by ourselves. We're together.'

‘Our flight doesn't leave until 1.45,' said Amy, fiddling in her purple and aqua backpack. Her passport was safe on a cord around her neck. Edwina had a mini-passport too. ‘Why isn't it on the screen?'

‘That's why I came looking for you.'

‘Has the plane crashed?' Suddenly, Christopher was interested. ‘Or gone missing?'

‘No. The plane has been delayed. It will be an hour late.'

‘2.45,' muttered Amy. That's why Singapore wasn't listed. The screen had room only for flights due in the next two hours.

‘Why is it delayed?' asked Christopher.

‘Something's missing. Not the engine,'she said quickly as Christopher's mouth opened with that question.

Amy watched closely. Was she covering up something? She didn't seem to want to answer all their questions. Was something really wrong with the plane?

‘What else is missing?' asked Amy.

‘A person.'

‘Who?'

‘Is it the pilot?' asked Christopher.

‘No.'

‘Is it a passenger?'

‘Don't worry about him.'

‘Who is he?' Amy never gave up.

‘We don't know. His baggage is here and he isn't.'

‘How do you know he's missing?' Once Amy caught the scent of a mystery, she followed it regardless.'He might just be running late.'

But the giraffe lady was not going to answer awkward questions. Her high heels moved nervously, like well-polished hooves.

‘I'll ring your parents in Singapore. If they're not home, I'll leave a message at Changi which is the Singapore Airport. Wait here.'

‘May I go to the toilet? It's just over there.' Amy pointed to the international toilet sign. ‘Then I'll come back.'

‘All right. But don't wander off. I'm responsible for you. My name is Rose.'

Amy had read her name tag already. And she smelt of roses, too.

Christopher said, ‘I'll wait for you out here.'

He pulled out his sketchbook and watched through the window. Yellow lights flashed on busy vehicles. Joined-together trailers piled with bags and suitcases were pulled here and there.

Planes came rolling up. They plugged into the tube. The airport was like a giant vacuum cleaner. People were whooshed out of the planes, up the walkways and out through security. Always the suits with briefcases came out first. Christopher started to design a giant vacuum cleaner for passengers.

Perhaps that's where the missing passenger could go?

Meanwhile, Amy wondered about the real reason why the plane was late.

Chapter 3

Amy hurried into the women's toilets. She liked all the coin machines with little packages of toothpaste, perfume and combs. You could have a shower, too.

Ahead of her was a wheelchair. Just the back of a woman's shoulders and head were showing. The dark hair was cut short. Like a ruff, a neck brace circled her neck. Then Amy noticed the stickers. She always noticed other people's stickers. Mum and Dad collected stickers for her from all over the world. Most were ‘greenie' Save The Planet stickers,but she had a few surfie ones like Hot Tuna and Billabong, too.

Amy looked closer. There was a bright yellow sticker she hadn't seen before. Like a frill-necked lizard. Let Our Lizards Be Frilled, Not Grilled, said the sticker. What did that mean?

Just then, a hand pressed the control on the arm of the chair. On that hand was coiled a big lizard ring. The frills were made from opal. The chair wobbled and the bag on the handles slipped. The zip was half open. What looked like an airport security jacket was stuffed in the bag.

Crack!

A tawny yellow walking- stick fell on the floor. It had a lizard carving on the handle. Amy stared. There was something strange about that frilled lizard head. It matched the ring which the woman was wearing. Near the wheels there was a squeak. Did they need oiling? Or was it something else?

Just as Amy bent forward to pick up the stick, with a quick movement ,the woman swung the chair around further. In her lap she had a mobile phone and a briefcase.

Amy watched as the woman put down the aerial on the mobile phone.

She's wired for sound. I thought witches had broomsticks, not neck-ruffs, lizard jewellery and mobile phones, she thought.

‘Thanks, dear.' The woman took the stick from Amy and rolled away. Amy stared after her. The voice had been an after-crying weepy sort of voice.

When Amy came out to wash her hands, the wheelchair woman was still there, putting on pink lipstick. Her bird ear rings dangled. She was sniffing sadly. Her tissue looked stringy damp. She peered into the mirror and rubbed at the runny black mascara marks.

‘Did you say goodbye to someone?' asked Amy kindly as she washed her hands. An airport was a hullo and goodbye sort of place.

‘Yes, my son. He's always travelling. Chasing things. I don't know when he'll be back. He's got a dangerous and difficult job. Especially this time.'

Amy fished in her pocket for a clean hanky. Aunty Viv always gave them black hankies before they left . It was in case they caught a cold from the water when they crashed in the ocean. Aunty Viv bought hankies in bulk.

‘Have this.'

‘Thanks, dear,' said the woman patting her eyes. The black mascara vanished onto the black hanky.

A thin-faced woman with dark glasses, and wearing a big floppy hat walked past .She seemed to be watching them in the mirror. Although her face and neck were thin, she was round elsewhere. Her jacket had lots of outside pockets, a bit like Dad's photo jacket where he kept his extra film and spare lens. For once, Amy didn't pay enough attention. Later, she wished she'd looked more closely.

As the hand- dryer whirred in the corner, Amy turned around.

‘They need a drying machine here for tears,' she suggested. Christopher could easily design one. ‘Or for spraying smiles.'

Once Christopher had designed windscreen wipers for their glasses. They fell off!

Looking at her backpack tag, the old woman smiled. ‘Are you leaving soon for Singapore ,dear?'

‘Yes.'

‘First time?'

‘No. We're meeting Mum and Dad. They shoot birds and animals.'

‘What?'

‘With their cameras. They're photographers. They work all over the place.'

Amy had used that ‘shooting parents' description before. Everybody paid attention to that!

‘Really?' The old woman looked very interested. But perhaps she was interested in photographs? ‘Thanks for the hanky. Sorry it's so wet. Let me wash it and post it back to you. What's your address in Singapore?'

‘Don't bother,' said Amy politely.

‘I'd like to return a favour. It's always helpful to know people in places where my son might visit. Is that your address on your backpack tag? ‘

‘Yes, and our Sydney one too.'

Reaching into her big bag slung from the handles of the wheelchair, the old woman found a pen and copied both addresses.

At the time, Amy did wonder why she wanted both. But then she moved on to thinking about why the plane might be late.

‘Bye. Thanks. Here's my son's business card. I can be contacted at that address too.'

Amy looked at the engraved card. She preferred to collect surf stickers or telephone cards. The curly writing on the card was hard to read.

JON SMART

SPARE PARTS MANAGER

EXPORT/IMPORT

Why would that be a dangerous job? What sort of spare parts did he manage? She knew that ‘import' meant things coming into the country. And ‘export' meant things going out of the country.

‘What does he export?' Amy asked.

Mrs Smart didn't seem to want to answer that. ‘Things. I'm not sure, this time.'

‘Do you like lizards?' Amy stared at her jewellery.

‘Why? Oh, my opal. Yes, of course. My son gave it to me. A good luck present for our new business venture.'

The thin woman with glasses walked out, tugging at her floppy hat.

It was so big ,that it almost covered her face.

At the mirror, a girl was putting a rainbow wig over her mousey, brown hair. She also put safety pin ear rings into her ears. Fascinated, Amy watched. Rainbow Wig's bag had a Singapore travel tag, too. Later, it was quite useful to know that Rainbow Wig's hair was mousey brown underneath.

Chapter 4

‘Look!' Christopher pushed a business card at her.

Amy read, ‘ Christopher Lee , Artist. That's you.'

‘I know. It cost me two dollars for five in that machine.'

He pointed to a squat vending machine. It made business cards.

‘If you wanted to pretend to be someone else, you could just make up a card,' said Amy slowly.

‘Or use the one a person gave you,' suggested Christopher.'And pretend to be them.'

‘It's not like a passport. You don't need a photo to match.You could pretend to be him.'

‘Or her. ‘ That reminded Amy. She fished in her outside pocket for the Jon Smart business card.

‘Where did you get that? It's printed the same way as mine.' Christopher looked closely at the curly printing. ‘Was it done on this airport vending machine?'

‘I don't know. She gave it to me.'Amy tugged his sleeve.'What d'you reckon a spare parts manager might sell?'

Christopher shrugged. ‘Car spare parts? Engine parts? Things for robots? Computer parts? Left-overs?'

‘Mmm, why would that be dangerous?'

‘Depends what they're used for.'

‘If it was body parts, you could use a new brain.' Christopher laughed.

Just as Amy tried to think of something clever to say, she noticed the wheelchair rolling across the carpet towards the departure gates.

‘Look, Christopher!'

‘At what?'

‘Mrs Smart. The Lizard Lady. In that wheelchair.'

‘Yes, I drew her before. She was changing money. I liked the shape of that wheelchair.' Christopher flipped through his notebook. ‘Here she is.'

Amy stared at the sketch. Christopher's drawing had captured her exactly. He always drew lots of details, so he'd drawn the bearded man standing behind her, holding an airline bag. He'd also drawn the bag on the handlebars and the stick with the frilled lizard shape. This chair had a drawer underneath.

‘Was that her son?' asked Amy.

‘How would I know? I was going to draw one of the airport wheelchairs but then she rolled along.'

‘Which airport ones?'

‘Over there.' Christopher waved at three blue wheelchairs neatly parked near the office. Each had a seat belt.

‘Can people take personal wheelchairs on board?'

‘I'm not sure.'

‘She said she was saying goodbye to her son. They have a new business, but she didn't say what it was.She won't be travelling with us,' said Amy. ‘He must have gone through already.'

If she had already said goodbye, why was she in this international lounge? Most people here would be flying soon. As Christopher drew, Amy looked around. Out of habit, she checked the screen. Places and times kept flicking over.

There it was! SIN was moving up the list.

‘Look, Christopher. Singapore's just flashed up higher. We'll be moving soon.'

‘Ace.'

Rose bustled up to them, again. She'd been checking regularly. ‘The plane will be leaving in less than an hour. Just a few problems. Are you still okay?'

‘Fine.'

‘Move down to Gate 8 soon. Have you got your departure tax stamps?'

Luckily, Aunty Viv had already paid their departure tax, so they didn't have to stand in a queue for that. Everybody had to pay twenty dollars before they left the country. Airports had lots of rules. And different uniforms.

‘See his uniform,' Amy said, pointing to the security guard. ‘That's like the jacket Mrs Smart had stuffed in her bag. Perhaps it's the latest fashion?'

Above them, the television news was on.

‘A bank robbery occurred at Westpac in the city late this morning. Half a million dollars was taken. Police are looking for a woman and a man dressed as a security officer to help them with their enquiries.

‘Let's go!' said Amy. ‘Follow that wheelchair!'

‘Which chair? I can't see one.'

Mrs Smart had vanished.

‘How can something as big as a wheelchair vanish?' said Amy.

But it had.