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Authors: Libby Gleeson

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‘And my mother?'

Jazz's mum shook her head. ‘I'm sorry, I don't know.

I think she must have passed away. It was always just you and your father.'

Jazz's dad glanced up at the clock. ‘You kids should get a good night's sleep and in the morning we'll work out what to do.'

Rhiannon Chalmers, daughter of David Chalmers who worked in some big company. Red silently said the words over and over. They were a foreign language. They belonged to a different person who came from a different world.

• • • • •

‘I can't sleep. It's just so weird and so amazing that you're here.' Jazz pushed herself up on her elbow. ‘What do you want to do tomorrow? We could hang out, go to a movie, that's if anything's open. Dad said the whole city is shut down. We'd have to go out to the suburbs.The trains into town aren't working. We'll have to get you some clothes, and I'll put a message up on Facebook with a photo. I'm still friends with some of the kids you'll remember from primary school. We can meet up or we could go out with my new friends, whatever.'

‘I don't know.' Red stared up at the plaster rose around the light in the centre of the ceiling. Jazz didn't get it. This wasn't like before. This wasn't normal life. I don't know who I am, Red whispered to herself, and you don't understand that. You've got no idea how it feels. I'm empty. I don't belong, not here, not to you, not to anyone, not even to Peri.

‘Anyway,' Jazz pushed herself out of bed and came and sat on the edge of Red's bed. ‘What's that thing you're wearing around your neck?'

‘This locket?'

‘Yeah.'

‘I don't know. It feels like the only thing I've got from before. I was wearing it when Peri found me.'

‘You must have been wearing something else!'

‘Yeah, sure. But that was just dirty old clothes.'

‘Is there something in it? A photo?'

‘Dunno. We did try to open it before but it was too hard. We didn't really have anything sharp enough.'

‘I'll get something.' Jazz leapt from the bed and disappeared towards the kitchen.

She came back with a small sharp knife. Red lifted the leather cord from around her neck and laid it on the sheet. ‘I should do it.' She took the knife from Jazz and tried to wedge it into the place where the two sides of the locket sealed. At first nothing happened. She twisted and turned the tip of the blade, scratching away the thin layer of mud and salt. Then the tip slipped between the two edges and slowly she drew it along the length of the locket. It sprang open and out fell a small piece of black plastic, a couple of millimetres thick. Red turned it over in her hand.

‘It's a memory stick,' said Jazz. ‘A USB. Quick, let's see what's on it.'

Red rolled the small object around in her palm. A memory stick. Could it have memories she didn't have? Could it tell her who she was and what had happened in the last two years? ‘Give it to me.' Jazz was now sitting at her desk, her computer on. Red hesitated, then held out her hand.

After a few moments a box appeared on the screen. ‘Lucky it's working,' said Jazz and she leant forward and began typing her password. First a brand name and then a long list of file names came up. She clicked on ‘removable disk'. More file names. She clicked on the first one.

A face appeared.

‘Dad.' Red grabbed the back of Jazz's chair. ‘That's my dad,' she whispered as Jazz stood up and let her fall into the seat in her place.

• • • • •

‘My name is David Chalmers and I am creating this file
because I fear for my life and that of my daughter. If
you are in possession of this, please deliver it to Justice
John Stanton, Federal Royal Commissioner currently
conducting hearings in Melbourne and Canberra. This
matter is urgent. Do not, under any circumstances, allow
it to fall into the hands of any other person. Do not take
it to the police. Trust no one. I repeat, no one
.'

He paused then and the camera panned across a desk covered in thick piles of paper.

‘
I'm scanning all these documents to make a full
record of my investigations into the company Jamieson
Finance, done during my time as an undercover agent
working with the company in Sydney. When I have
finished scanning I will place the original documents in
a safe place and give the details of where they can be
found.

‘I cannot stress too highly that there are those who will
do everything possible to prevent this information from
getting to the Royal Commission. Whoever you are
watching this, you may be in danger, as indeed I am
myself. Already some attempts have been made on my life.
I repeat, trust no one. Do not take this to the police. Take
great care.'

The screen went blank.

Red stared. It was the face she remembered, the one from the aeroplane, but the words were strange, unreal.

‘What should we do?' whispered Jazz. She sat curled up on her bed, her arms wrapped around her knees, fingers interlaced, her knuckles white.

Red didn't answer.

‘I'll get my mum or dad.'

‘No.' Red shook her head. ‘Get Peri.' She didn't turn her head as Jazz obediently left the room.

• • • • •

Peri said nothing as they played the video clip again.

‘And that's your dad?' he said to Red as the image faded. ‘Wow.'

She spun the chair round to face him. ‘That's him. Not Jay Martin or James Martin. I know it's him but I can't remember much about him. I can close my eyes and I can see the day you found me. I remember that. And I remember everything that has happened since. But except for that day on the aeroplane I don't really remember him.'

‘Do you know anything about what he's talking about? About people trying to bump him off?'

Red shook her head.

‘Maybe the company he's investigating got a hitman out to get him. It's like a crime movie.'

‘It's real life,' said Red.

‘Well, let's have a look at some of the other files.'

‘No. I don't think we should. He says they're important and that's enough.'

‘We have to tell Mum and Dad,' said Jazz. ‘They'll know what to do.'

‘He said tell no one,' said Red.

‘My parents aren't no one.'

‘Your dad's a policeman. He said not to tell them.' Jazz was slumped on the bed. ‘Why would he say that? This is really weird.'

‘Everything's weird now,' said Red. She leant forward and closed down the file and removed the memory stick. ‘We're not going to tell anyone now. In the morning we'll work out what to do.' She turned off the computer, and sealed the memory stick back in the locket. It felt cold against her chest. ‘Let's go back to bed.' She didn't know what she wanted to do. She couldn't think with Jazz and Peri there. She wasn't sure she could think with them gone.

Peri looked at her and shook his head slowly. Then he turned to go.

‘'Night, Red.'

‘'Night, Peri.'

Jazz climbed slowly back into bed and said nothing.

• • • • •

Red pulled the sheet up to her neck, her father's words tumbling around in her head: ‘
in danger …
commission … trust no one … do not take this to the
police …attempts on my life'.
Why couldn't they go to the police? Isn't that what people did when they were in trouble? What did it all mean? And Peri said maybe the company had someone out to kill him. Could that be true? And where was he now? And who was Jay Martin?

Her eyes became more accustomed to the darkness and she saw pinpricks of light on the ceiling. Yellow stars of all different sizes were scattered there, as if tossed at random. Earlier, in the half light, they had been invisible. It took the darkness to uncover them.

I am lying on cool grass staring at the sky. ‘That's the
Milky Way,' he's saying. It's Dad. I know it's him although
I can't see him. ‘It's made up of well over a hundred
billion stars, maybe two hundred billion or some people
say four hundred billion. We're part of it and our sun is
twenty-four thousand light years away from the centre.'
We lie there in silence. ‘They're huge but most of them
have no names and we know so little about them. Makes
you feel pretty small and insignificant,' he says
.

CHAPTER SEVEN

RED WOKE MANY TIMES IN THE NIGHT. SHE HEARD
Jazz's even breathing and occasionally the low hum of a car on the road. She pictured the face on the computer screen and struggled to drag memories from deep inside herself. Could she place him eating breakfast across a table from her, walking beside her on her way to school, sitting beside her in a lounge room watching television? Nothing. She was lying still, staring up at the ceiling stars when the alarm on Jazz's phone rang: a song she didn't recognise.

• • • • •

‘I'm going to have a shower,' said Jazz. ‘Then we should tell Mum and Dad.'

Red shook her head. ‘We can't tell anyone.'

‘But they'll know what to do.'

‘We can't. He said not to and especially not to tell a policeman.'

‘Are you saying my dad's a crook or something?'

‘I'm just trying to do what my dad said.'

‘Dad could look your dad up on the police computers. There's sure to be stuff on there about this commission thing.'

‘We can't do that.'

‘Aren't you ever going to tell anyone? That's crazy.'

‘I don't know. Not yet. And don't you say anything. It's my stick and my dad and he said not to tell anyone.'

‘OK. OK. Don't go off at me.'

At breakfast they hardly spoke. Peri sat opposite them and looked from one to the other, raised his eyebrows, shrugged and then added another WeetBix to the four already in his bowl.

Jazz's mum rapped the granite benchtop with her scarlet fingernails and said, ‘We want to talk to you all. Andrew and I are pretty concerned at what's happening. He's in the study. He's working at home this morning. When you finish, go and see him.' She left.

Red looked across at Jazz. ‘Have you told?' Jazz shook her head. ‘When could I? You've been with me all morning.'

• • • • •

‘Sit down,' Jazz's father stayed standing. Red fixed her eyes on his shoes.

‘Now, Margaret and I have been talking. We are really happy to have you stay with us. Both of you are truly welcome here for as long as you like. With all the chaos outside, it may take a long time to find your families anyway, and we don't want you out there, on your own, but …' He paused.

There was a deep scratch on the outside of the shoe on his left foot. How could that have happened?

‘ … but we insist that we report your presence here to the authorities.'

‘To the police?' said Peri.

‘Well, yes. Someone may be looking for you. We need to register you so that in that case they can find out where you are.'

‘But—' ‘No buts, Peri. I know you said you've been in contact but given everything that's happened, if I was your dad I'd be worried sick.' He looked at Red. ‘We need to find out what's happened to your father. We've made a decision. We can't do it today because I've got a conference call starting in less than an hour and then some meetings. Jazz's probably told you I'm co-ordinating the post-cyclone team and we're still in search and rescue. But first thing tomorrow morning I'll take you in to the local police station and see what paperwork we have to fill out. They might hear something or see something on all the stuff that crosses their desk and they'll make the connections. We'll need your full name, Peri.'

For a moment Red thought Peri was going to object but he swallowed hard, nodded and said, ‘OK.'

Why was he agreeing?

‘And you, Rhiannon, we think it's important that you are examined by a doctor. You may have had a nasty knock on the head. You could need X-rays. So we'll make an appointment to get you checked after we've been to the station.'

Red frowned but said nothing. No way. She looked across at Peri again but he had turned away from her.She didn't know what to say.

‘That's settled, then. Off you go now. I've got some work to do.' He sat down at his desk and was already typing on his computer as Red, Peri and Jazz left the room.

• • • • •

‘Why did you say OK?' hissed Red. They followed Jazz out onto the verandah. ‘I don't want to go onto some register.'

‘We won't,' said Peri. ‘We can't. If your dad was right about some blokes looking for him, trying to kill him, they'll know his name and your name. If it goes on a database that someone could hack into, they'll find you. We have to get that stick to that judge wherever he is.'

‘And how are we going to do that?'

Peri shrugged. ‘Dunno. But I reckon that's what we have to do.'

They moved onto the grass under the wattle tree, away from the house.

‘We could google the Stanton guy and find out where he is,' Jazz said.

‘And then,' said Peri ‘we just clear out and find him. But we've got no money, no transport. Red, your dad said he was in Canberra or Melbourne. I don't know how far away they are but it sure is too far to walk. And the trouble is that even if we got there, he wouldn't listen to us. People like him have all these security blokes around them and people like us can't get in to see them.'

‘We have to try,' said Red. ‘Have you got any money?' She turned to look at Jazz. ‘Or could you get us some?'

Jazz nodded. ‘Go and google him and I'll check it out.'

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