Walking Shadows (41 page)

"I'll confirm when I email." I had gathered up my scattered gear from the yard and
piled it back into my satchel. Keys, wallet and transport pass were all accounted for. I still had
no phone. Maybe I'd have time to replace it today, with one of those two-for-one deals. "I'm
going to get you a mobile phone," I told Gary before I left, "I want to be able to ring
you."

"You'll have to leave me instructions on how to use it."

"No problem. Anyway, if you can use the Internet, you can use a mobile phone. Trust
me."

He assured me that he did, and I left. A bus, train and walk later, I was home.

My hopes of not letting Kate learn the hideous detail of my night out promptly fell
to bits when I walked through the front door and there she was, Oscar fretting at her heels, making
frantic phone calls to half the people we knew. Anthony was on his mobile phone, calling the other
half. They both hung up as I came through the door.

Kate flung herself at me. No admonishments, no angry looks. She gathered me in a fierce hug, and
I hugged her back. Oscar yipped happily at our ankles.

"You're all right then?" Anthony rose from the sofa and hovered, waiting to be of use
to my sister, his lady-love.

"Right as rain," I said, "I'm dying for some breakfast, though." My stomach
gurgled, underlining the point.

"Breakfast I can do." Anthony was clearly pleased to have a practical way of being
supportive. He bounded into the kitchen and started rummaging in the fridge.

Kate regarded me sternly. "Dad called me last night, hysterical." She kept her voice
low so Anthony couldn't hear, "He was saying that Gary was, well, you know 'what he
is'."

"What did you say?"

"I told him I knew that already, and that you weren't in any danger. And then I came home
this morning and you weren't here, and I thought; I don't know what I thought."

"We had business to finish."

"Is it finished now?"

"Yes. It's over."

Kate nodded, content with that for now. She would want to know the details later, when Anthony
had gone. I might even tell her some of them. Leaving out the getting shot part, anyway.

Oscar's bid for attention was getting loud and risked bothering the neighbours, so I bent to give
him a vigorous pat. He sniffed me all over, whined a little then head-butted my hand until I gave
his ears a thorough scratch.

I showered, washed my hair, brushed my teeth and decided my reflection looked better than it had
any right to. The bruises around my face were nearly gone. The ones from Abe's earlier mistreatment
were dark but could be hidden. The bullet wound was a tiny wrinkle of skin like an inoculation scar.
I tied my hair back and dressed in a long, loose skirt and a short-sleeved shirt that put minimum
pressure on my remaining contusions.

Breakfast was lovely - making fluffy scrambled eggs and flavoursome sautéed mushrooms were
clearly among Anthony's many talents - and the plunger coffee completed the job of restoring me to
passing-for-normal. Kate calmed down, and when she was calm, Anthony was happy, so that was all
good. Oscar got toast scraps, which made his life complete.

One more thing to do, I thought. A bigger thing, and not the end of something either.

It's an old cliché, that while there's life there's hope, but I don't think people
understand how true that is. Gary is proof of that. But most vampires aren't like him. They can't or
won't make that push - to change, or at least to keep trying. Those of us with blood in our veins,
though, we have the chance to choose again. Always.

Evan had chosen to be something new. If a slayer-chemist with a 300-year-old family vocation can
do that, and if a vampire can cross thresholds into homes and churches and learn how to feel without
blood as a catalyst, then regular folks can do it. If this week had taught me anything, it was where
there is hope, there's life.

While Kate accompanied Anthony down to the Esplanade, seeking out a newspaper and, I suspected,
canoodling time, I phoned my Dad.

He was incoherently relieved to hear from me, then angry, then contrite. I let it run its course.

"I told you Gary would look after me. What he is isn't the same thing as what he
does."

Dad subsided. Finally, he said: "You think you've sunk as low as a man can go. And then one
day you discover that there are real monsters out there, with fangs and no pity. Then you learn that
your daughter trusts one of those things more than she trusts you, and with good reason. And that's
when you discover what rock bottom really is."

I bristled at him calling Gary a 'thing', then took a deep breath and let it go. Dad would just
have to get used to the idea, the way Kate had.

"The truth is, Dad, I want to trust you. Our history has made that difficult."

"I know, sweetheart. I'm," he took a breath, "doing something about it. I've
joined a group. I called my sponsor last night."

"Did you tell him about the vampires?"

"God, no! But I've recommitted. He knows I fell off the wagon. He says the important thing
is to get right back on it and not give up."

"He's right. Tell you what, Dad. You keep working on this. I can go to meetings with you if
you want. Call me if you feel the urge to drink and you can't get hold of your sponsor. I don't
expect miracles. I know there'll be times it falls apart. But if you'll try, I promise to be here to
help however I can, for as long as you need. You're not to give up, though. Change is hard, but it's
only ever too late when you're dead. There's a lot of scope right up to then."

The long silence at Dad's end of the line made me wonder if he'd hung up. Then, finally,
"I'll try not to let you down."

"It's not about me, Dad. It's about you and me and Kate, and all of us wanting to do better
than we've been doing. You know what they say, Dad, 'nothing changes if nothing changes'. Things
have to change."

"What about Kate?"

"I'll talk to her. Maybe we can get together tomorrow and do breakfast. We can take Oscar
for a walk together. How does that sound?"

"It sounds wonderful." I think he was crying.

"Great, 9.30 tomorrow morning, our place."

Kate came home
sans
Anthony, who had band rehearsal in the 'burbs at midday. I told her
what I'd said to Dad. I thought she was angry, until she folded me in another bruisingly hard hug
and said it was a good idea.

"We need to tell him about Mum," I said.

"I suppose so," she conceded, and then added: "He needs to know how dangerous she
is now."

We spent the morning doing sisterly things. We danced to lively music while we played tug-of-war
and fetch with Oscar, and then I painted her toenails and she brushed my hair. I phoned Mez to check
on arrangements for pool, which was still a goer, then emailed Gary to confirm it. I invited Kate to
join us, and she accepted cheerfully.

After lunch, I reported my lost phone and went shopping for a replacement. A reasonable
two-phones-for-one deal was on offer, and the fact that both phones were fire-engine red sealed the
sale.

Then we treated ourselves to art. Arm in arm, we walked under St Kilda's avenue of trees to the
National Gallery of Victoria, a big grey box of a building, surrounded by an unattractive concrete
moat.

We stepped under the broad arch framing the entrance and paused in front of the glass wall to
partake of the great Melburnian tradition of splaying our fingers in the water skimming endlessly
over its surface. Cool liquid splashed over my hand and onto the concrete. Bless the wise heads that
had insisted the waterwall stay when the refurbishment was done. Through it, I could see the rippled
shapes of people in the skylit foyer - a glimpse of what reality would look like if it had been
created by Monet.

Droplets of water scattered over my face as Kate flicked her fingers dry in my direction. I
retaliated and we giggled like little kids. A man in a suit grinned at us, making us laugh outright.

Inside, by mutual unspoken consent, we crossed the concourse into the shade of the Great Hall.
Above us was the astonishing stained glass ceiling. The Hall, as always, was mostly bare, but for a
few people meandering towards the sculpture garden, and the people stretched out on their backs on
the plain grey carpet.

Following another great Melbourne tradition, we found a spot near one of the black support
pillars and lay on the carpet to contemplate Leonard French's high-vaulted, kaleidoscopic ceiling.
Side by side, we remarked on the colours; on how the primitive design was held aloft by modern
engineering; on how the simplicity or complexity of the design changed as much with our mood as
which part of it we looked at. The sun was a bright circle above a patch of orange and red, and
dappled colours were reflected on the top of the wall, adding another dimension to the effect.

This ceiling intrigued me and settled my nerves, and it was free to anyone who took the time to
visit - a boon back in the days when I was always broke. With a small sigh of contentment I closed
my eyes. Just what the doctor ordered.

"Is it comfortable down there?"

I opened my eyes to see Evan regarding me with puzzlement. He had a travel-worn backpack slung
over one shoulder.

"How did you know I was here?"

Beside me, Kate sat up. "He called me while you were busy at the phone shop. He said he had
some important things for you."

This is what happens, I thought, when you don't let your sister know the whole story up front. I
sat up and eyed him warily.

"How'd things go?" I asked.

"Well enough. I took him down to the Mornington Peninsula. I found a very quiet place. It's
all done. And I made sure the fire was out before I left. I've been reading about your bushfire
season."

"Why have you been lighting fires?" Kate's eye was stern and steely.

"I've been destroying evidence," Evan said quietly, firmly and clearly. "I've been
doing it all morning. Covering my tracks. And some of Lissa's as well. You're her sister Kate, I
take it."

Kate remained disapproving. "Yes. So are the tracks all covered? Lissa's not in any more
danger?"

"Absolutely none. My family and I have been doing this sort of thing for a long time. We're
generally very good at it."

"It's over now?"

"Now and forever." A wry smile emerged. "I'll have to find something else to be
very good at."

"Perhaps," said Kate coldly, "you'll find out somewhere else. As in not near my
sister."

"That would appear to be a given." He looked at me. "I have something for
you." He held his hand out, I grasped it and let him help me to my feet. I turned and did the
same for Kate.

He swung the backpack off and handed it to me. "Your phone's in there. That's how I got
Kate's number. Mundy's diary and address book are there too. It also contains my computer. Three
centuries of data. I noticed that Gary has quite a collection. He told me he was collating
information, despite there being so few facts available. This is more comprehensive than anything
he'll have. He might find it useful for whatever he's collating it for."

"I can't take this."

"It's not the original material, of course. It's certainly not the only copy. We have the
original texts at home, and everything's on the master computer there. Also numerous backups. My
brother was most insistent. It's possible that if he'd spent less time archiving and more time
training he would still be alive."

"Don't play that game, Evan," I told him. "What-ifs will only drive you
crazy."

His green eyes clouded, and he sighed. "All right. No what-ifs. I can't help having my
regrets, however." And he bent down and pressed his lips to mine. The touch was fleeting, and
sorrowful, and full of goodbye.

I held my breath a moment, let it go slowly. "Go make something new out of them then. I find
that going out and living my life, instead of running for it, helps a lot."

"Things like standing in the rain?" he suggested with a smile, "Breaking out of
expectations, you said."

"Exactly."

"Good advice. I'll follow it." He glanced at Kate. "As soon as I leave Australia.
Which is my cue. I have to be going. I've arranged passage as crew on a ship leaving in a few hours.
I need to be gone, in case anyone gets lucky with investigating the rental car smash and learn it
was hired under false ID."

"Oh."

"Track-covering," he said. "Like I said, my family has become very good at
it."

"Well. Good luck." I kissed him on the cheek. "Enjoy your new life."

His smile was wider that time. He nodded politely to Kate, and strode off. We watched him leave.
Then I realised that Kate was giving me a
look.

"What?"

"I'm going to have to do something about your appalling taste in men."

"He was very good looking."

"It's not their looks that are the problem."

Well, that was the truth.

"Has Anthony got a brother, then?"

"He's got two. One of them's gay, the other one's married."

"Oh well. At least I've got Oscar."

Said critter ran in circles when we got home. The new phones were plugged in to charge, we took
Oscar for a run and finally the doorbell rang. Gary had arrived to join us for the planned game of
pool.

Out of deference for Oscar's finer feelings, we met Gary downstairs. Kate and Gary nodded
circumspect greetings and I walked between them on the way to Chinatown. I told him about Evan's
farewell visit, and the computer, arranging to see him later in the week to go over its contents -
and to give him his new phone.

"It won't cost much," I said, "As long as you don't go calling any dumb
subscription numbers."

"What are they?"

"I'll explain it next week," I grinned, "And don't worry, I'll type up
instructions for you, put my number on speed dial, the whole thing."