The Paradise Trap (28 page)

But the police didn’t get involved, because Jake’s parents were already dead. Sterling discovered this when he ran an internet search; Mr and Mrs Borazio had died in a car accident ten years earlier, leaving a sizeable fortune to Jake’s older brothers. And when Sterling finally tracked these brothers down, none of them would acknowledge Jake. They called him an impostor.

‘That’s because they don’t want to share,’ Marcus deduced. ‘I bet they’d be nicer to you if they weren’t so greedy.’

‘And if you tell them the truth, they’ll say you’re a
mad
imposter,’ Holly lamented. ‘I’m sorry, Jake. This is going to be harder than I thought – unless you fight them with a DNA test, and that will mean police involvement . . .’

‘I don’t care,’ said Jake. And he really seemed to mean it. His brothers’ rejection didn’t appear to bother him. Neither did his epic struggle to prove who he was. Marcus found out why much later, after Jake had given up his job as the Huckstepps’ gardener and moved out of the furnished loft that had been built over their six-car garage. Though his new boss didn’t pay as well as the Huckstepps had – and his new digs were only half the size of his former residence – Jake was adamant that he preferred it that way.

‘If things were too easy, I’d be back in fantasy land,’ he pointed out. ‘All these tough breaks
prove
that I’m in the real world. It’s such a relief not being stuck in an endless loop where you always know what’s going to happen next!’

According to Jake, the setbacks of his everyday life were good for him. He certainly thrived on challenge; even Marcus could see that. Upon first emerging from Miss Molpe’s caravan, Jake had been unable to drive a car, use a computer, or identify an eggplant. Within six months he had mastered all these skills and more. It was like watching someone grow up in fast-forward mode. Soon Marcus wasn’t showing Jake what to do anymore. Soon it was Jake giving advice to Marcus.

There was only one challenge that Jake wouldn’t face. Though he cheerfully wrestled with unfamiliar technology, hostile lawyers and grudging government departments, he wanted nothing to do with Miss Molpe. He wouldn’t even discuss her – unlike the Huckstepps, who were always asking each other questions about every aspect of her existence. Had she really been a siren, or had some weird, bird-like being (an alien, perhaps) chosen to disguise itself as a mythological monster? And if she really
had
been a siren, why had she felt compelled to keep killing travellers? Could it have been because she missed the cadaver-strewn shores of her youth, where her voice had once ruled the waves and won every heart?

No one knew. No one could even agree on a likely explanation. And while Sterling was keen to pursue the matter, Jake definitely wasn’t. ‘No,’ said Jake, when Sterling proposed that they should try to discover Miss Molpe’s present whereabouts. ‘I don’t care where she is. Or what she is. I just want her to stay away from me.’

‘But aren’t you interested in knowing what actually happened?’ Sterling pressed.

‘Not really,’ Jake retorted. And Newt backed him up.

‘What happened is that she destroyed her own tourist trap,’ Newt theorised. ‘So she wouldn’t get caught. And good riddance, too.’

‘Yes, but
how
did she destroy it? And what was actually destroyed? Prot wasn’t – we know that. Was it because he belonged to the real world, or because of the alloy in his casing?’ Sterling turned to the Bradshaws. ‘What I want to do is dismantle your caravan, piece by piece. I’d like to examine all Prot’s databanks, because there’ll be quantifiable readings in there. I want to check police records for disappearances, and then I want to compare our own recollections of what we saw, and after that I want to pursue the whole Shibilis angle—’

‘Why?’ Jake interrupted.

‘Why?’ Sterling looked astonished. ‘Because unless we find out what actually happened, we might not be able to stop it from happening again!’

‘Do you think so?’ Marcus wasn’t sure. ‘Couldn’t we just sell the caravan? Or destroy it?’ He appealed to Holly. ‘I don’t really want to go in there again – do you? I mean, even if Miss Molpe never comes back, it still smells horrible.’

His mother sighed. ‘I know it does,’ she admitted. ‘But I paid so much for it, you see . . .’

‘That’s all right!’ Sterling interrupted, beaming enthusiastically. ‘I’ll pay you double the original price! And you can buy yourselves something better!’

So Sterling bought the Bradshaws’ old caravan, took it apart, and found nothing. He combed through Prot’s databanks and found nothing of great interest in there, either. None of his research turned up any useful information, though he kept making inquiries long after his beach holiday had well and truly ended. Every so often, during the months that followed, he would call the Bradshaws with a question or invite them to evaluate his latest theory. Sometimes, when Jake visited Holly, he would bring an update from Sterling. But nothing ever came of all this work – and eventually, even Sterling gave up.

As for Holly, she didn’t use Sterling’s money to buy a new caravan. She didn’t need to, because the Huckstepps were always inviting her to stay in theirs. Instead she used the money to pay for a very simple honeymoon, once she’d finally married Jake. And with the small sum left over, she was able to take Marcus to see his dad.

For something that Marcus had looked forward to for so long, it proved to be a disappointing trip. He soon realised that his father wasn’t particularly interested in him – not half as interested as Jake was. And the journey itself was a disaster, what with the baggage handlers’ strike, the unscheduled stopover, the endless rain, the bad cold that Marcus picked up, and the earphones that he lost. But he didn’t mind, really. Disastrous holidays no longer worried him. On the contrary, he found them reassuring, because he knew he was safe from Miss Molpe just as long as things weren’t perfect.

It was the dream holidays that he had to avoid.

‘Look at this,’ he remarked to his mother one day, upon glancing at a magazine holiday promotion. ‘
Island
Paradise Getaway Special. Four nights in a luxury spa resort,
all meals included, complimentary champagne and snorkelling,
swim with the dolphins, free kids’ club.
That sounds too good to resist, don’t you think?’

‘Probably,’ Holly agreed.

‘Do you think it’s Miss Molpe again? Do you think it’s one of her traps?
Free kids’ club
– that’s just the kind of thing Miss Molpe would dream up.’

‘Perhaps,’ Holly had to allow.

‘Maybe we should warn people that she’s still out there, waiting to pounce on them.’ Marcus was concerned about all the innocent little kids who might find themselves lured into Miss Molpe’s paradise trap. ‘Maybe we should write a letter to the newspapers, saying that if it sounds too good to be true, then it’s probably a lie.’

‘We can’t do that, Marcus. We’d be sued for defamation.’

‘But—’

‘People want to believe in paradise. They want to believe that they can escape into a perfect world where nothing will ever go wrong. It’s why they pay so much money for these trips.’ Holly leaned down and hugged him. ‘Don’t fret about it, sweetie. You don’t have to worry about Miss Molpe. As long as you’re sensible, you’ll be safe from Miss Molpe and everyone like her. All you have to do is remember that the real world isn’t
meant
to be perfect. And that there will always be ups and downs, no matter where you are.’

Then she went off to watch the Powerball jackpot on TV, leaving Marcus to help Jake build a kennel for their little white dog.

A
BOUT THE
A
UTHOR

Catherine Jinks was born in Brisbane in 1963 and grew up in Sydney and Papua New Guinea. She studied medieval history at university and her love of reading led her to become a writer. Her books for children, teenagers and adults have been published all over the world, and have won numerous awards.

Catherine lives in the Blue Mountains in New South Wales with her husband, Canadian journalist Peter Dockrill, and their daughter Hannah.

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Evil Genius
explores the fine line between good and evil in a strange world of manipulation and subterfuge.

Winner 2006 Davitt Award
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Winner 2009 Davitt Award
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