Find Me (Trust Me, Find Me 2)
Shaun’s first assessment had been right. There was a hole in the roof on the right wing, and the rain had gotten into that part of the building causing a fair bit of rot and damage to the rooms. But it was all fixable, Shaun decided as he wandered around, now feeling increasingly pleased with his settlement from Her Majesty’s Government.
Leaving Celia busy with her list, the men went outside to explore the barn to the side of the house.
Pulling open the large wooden door, Shaun peered in. The main barn was a large cavernous space. It had been used for stabling and storage.
At the far end of the barn was a wooden partition. It was puzzling. The barn had seemed to extend further from the outside. Shaun absently ran his hand along the joint above him until it hit a bump. It was a peg.
He pulled at it and felt a catch, and then the giving way of a door that opened in his hand.
“Hey, Frank! There’s another space behind here.”
The ground floor of the room beyond had been used for storage too. There was an ancient bicycle with wobbly-looking wheels, a wheelbarrow, an old push lawnmower, and a full collection of spades, axes and other utensils that would come in quite handy.
“Hey, I’ve got myself a boat!”
Shaun’s eyes were fixed on a Canadian canoe, perfect for pottering on the lake.
“Good-oh.”
Shaun looked up. Above the storage area was a beam.
It was odd. Why would the beam run across the middle of the barn, like that? Unless...
Grabbing a set of ladders, he carefully placed them against the beam and climbed up.
“What’s up there?” Frank called from the bottom, where he was holding the ladders firm.
It was a hidden mezzanine loft.
“A mattress with a quilt.”
Shaun swiped the torch on his phone to see more clearly into the shadowy corners.
“And there’s a small stove.”
“It’s a sleepout.”
“Maybe.”
Shaun climbed back down the ladders. It looked more like a safe room to him. A place to hide.
“Us Kiwis love a bit of camping and extra space for visitors.”
Shaun checked himself. There he was again, projecting his damaged mind. Frank was right. It was a sleepout.
They wandered out of the shed.
“What was that?”
Shaun flicked around as he heard it again by the side of the barn.
“What?”
Something moved to the side of Frank, followed by a squawk.
“I don’t bloody believe it.”
Frank bent down and peered into the thick spiky manuka bush beside the barn.
“It’s Rowdy.”
“Rowdy?”
“Yeah. Rowdy the Rooster. Gave him to Jake a few years back. Must be getting on a bit by now.”
“So, Jake had hens here?”
Frank pointed to the wire netting on an old makeshift compound across the yard.
“Looks like a chook pen to me.”
They strolled back towards the house, wandering lazily over to the lakeshore in front of the lounge windows.
“How come a fulla like you lands himself a piece of prime Kiwi real estate, then?”
“It’s hardly prime, Frank.”
He was making a new start. Frank and Celia were the only friends he had on this side of the world and he didn’t want to lie to them, but he couldn’t tell them the whole truth either.
“It was a settlement. I did some work and the payment from the British Government was the deeds to this place.”
Bending down Frank picked up a stone to skim.
“I guess this may seem like the perfect spot to you. But the reality is, out here’s a tough place.”
The stone made seven perfect bouncing arcs across the mirrored lake.
“If I were you, I’d sell it and buy a bach at the beach, so’s you can go surfin’ and have some fun. Not be stuck out here on yer tod.”
Shaun contemplated Frank’s words as he picked up a flat pebble and then skimmed a perfect seven-bouncer.
Why was Frank so negative about this?
It was so peaceful here. Idyllic even.
Shaun put it down to ignorance. The bloke had probably never travelled. He’d lived here all his life; he didn’t realise what a special place it was. And anyway, Shaun didn’t think of New Zealand as being particularly lawless, not compared to the places he’d been to. If there was any trouble, he was confident he could soon sort it.
“Nah, the beach’s not for me.”
Frank sighed.
“I reckoned as much. But, there’s things about this pl...”
“Frank! Where’ve you got to?”
Celia bounded out of the kitchen door, nearly sticking her foot into the hole on the porch decking.
“What’s up?” Shaun asked.
Frank went towards her.
“Celia, what you flappin’ like an ole chook about?”
“Ah, nothing. I... I got a little freaked out there on my own. I… I heard a noise.”
Celia smoothed over her hair with her hand.
“Hope you’re not scared of the odd possum?” Frank joked, looking at his wife. “Being out here doesn’t suit everyone.”
Shaun shrugged.
“You like it out here, don’t ya?”
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else, mate.”
“Me either. I can see there’s a lot of work needed.”
“Yeah. She’s a doer-upper, alright.”
“And I haven’t got anything else to do... Besides, I kinda like it here. It’s peaceful.”
Frank sniffed.
“Quiet as the grave.”
Celia shuddered.
“You’ll be needing a builder.”
“I can do the work myself.”
Frank studied the old lodge resignedly.
“If you need tools, you’re welcome to borrow what I’ve got.”
“Thanks, Frank.”
“And you’ll be staying with us, at least until you can get the electric put on,” Celia added.
Shaun studied them both. They’d been so generous and open-hearted. Salt-of-the-earth folk. He’d been lucky to have met them.
“I’ve burdened you enough. You’ve both been very kind.”
“Ah, no worries.”
And that was that. Celia bulldozed all Shaun’s protestations.
“By rights, we’re neighbours now. And you’re gonna need all the help you can get, I reckon.”
Frank put his arm around Celia’s waist.
“But, what a view, eh?”
“Yeah, you can say that again,” Shaun agreed.
It was the first time he’d noticed it. The lake from the house was like a perfect mirror reflecting the rolling volcanic hills covered in the native forest around it.
“It’s a special place, alright. And when I’m done, I’ll cook you a barbie.”
Frank chuckled.
“Now you’re talkin’ We’ll make a Kiwi of you yet.”
Chapter 6
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Hugging little Aaron, and then my flatmate Courtney, I fight back the tears.
“You take care, Claire,” she whispers to me, her voice catching.
I hoist my backpack over one shoulder. It’s so heavy, I wonder how I’m going to cope. Everything I own and need is in this pack.
“Promise to send us some of your lovely photos. I want dolphins, Auntie Claire.”
“I’ve packed my camera, so I’ll see what I can do. Be a good boy. I miss you already!”
And with that, I’m out of the door and down the stairs to the high street to wait for my free ride to London with Jac and Annie. They’re getting themselves matching tattoos for some loved-up reason that I’m not even going to ask about.
They pull up soon after and I throw the rucksack into the boot. Annie moves to sit in the back with me.
“I can’t believe you’re finally doing this.”
/> She seems more excited than me.
I’m heading down through France and Italy to Greece. Then over to Crete and the job in a café.
My stomach flips as it dawns on me, I’ve never been further south than Birmingham.
And to be honest, the scar isn’t helping my confidence any. I’ve been trying to cover the red welt stretching down my neck with scarves and high-neck jumpers, but I know I won’t be able to when I’m travelling and the weather’s hot.
“Does it look bad?” I ask Annie tentatively.
“Claire, you look great. You always do. Don’t worry about the scar. Your hair covers it.”
“Thanks, Annie. You always make me feel good.”
Perhaps there is such a thing as true love, I consider as I watch Jac and Annie chatting as we drive along.
I curse under my breath as ironically at that moment when I’m thinking about him again, The Killers begin blasting Mr Brightside out from the car stereo. ‘It was only a kiss.’
“D’ya think Sion did it?” I ask Annie quietly as we sit in slow-moving traffic on the motorway. We’ve skirted around this issue before but I’ve never asked her straight out.
“No.”
I’m shocked. She says it so matter-of-factly.