Chapter 38
CHAPTER
Angelina, wearing a black velvet dress, pearls and stilettos, her auburn hair swept back in an immaculate chignon, spins across the floor singing an off-key version of ‘I Could Have Danced all Night’.
‘Are you planning to do that for the next two hours?’
‘I’m in love!’
I add another stack of chairs to the chairs already pushed against the wall. ‘Who would have guessed?’
‘Nate and I talked and talked and talked last night. He said he’d never stopped loving me and he never will.’
‘I’m happy to hear that.’
‘My bowerbird said if I can love him even half as much as he loves me, he’ll be a happy man. I told him I’d love him twice as much tomorrow as I do today.’
‘Bowerbird behaviour from both of you.’
She laughs. ‘Neither of us has ever given up on the idea of love, which is why we’ve both kept searching for it, but we’ve never been able to find anything that came close to what we could have together. We’ve told each other everything there is to tell, the good and the bad.’
‘I’m so happy it turned out.’
‘When I called Golden, she had to get Tor on the line to get any sense out of me.’ Her eyes fill with tears. ‘I couldn’t stop crying.’
‘Nate’s been here for two weeks and you spent the first week dancing around each other. You’re not rushing into this?’
‘Besides Golden, I know Nate better than I know anyone. He’s clever and hardworking and genuine. That’s why people like him.’
‘I’m one of those people but …’
‘What, Flick? I trust you. I trust your opinion.’
Jerry whistles as he walks into the mess. ‘Nice dress!’
Angelina’s eyes open wide. ‘What about Flick’s ensemble?’
Jerry looks me up and down. ‘Smoking, Flick.’
I run my hands down my jeans before adjusting my scarf—a repurposed red and white checked tea towel from the kitchen. The bottom buttons of my shirt are undone, and I’ve tied the ends into a knot at my waist.
‘Flick?’ Angelina’s smile is slipping. ‘What was your “but” about?’
‘You’ve never told me why you broke up.’
As if she can’t believe they did break up, she shakes her head.
‘Everybody loved Nate, including my conservative politician father and socialite, hard-to-please mother. I’m ashamed of this now, but back then, I equated likeable with boring.
By the time I worked out how wrong I’d been, it was too late. ’
‘You both deserve a second chance.’
Smiling radiantly, she holds out her arms. ‘I’m in love!’
Angelina encourages everyone taking part in the dance to come to the front of the room.
Jerry volunteers to go first, taking us through the steps of Elvis’s ‘Blue Suede Shoes’ before we all partner up to give it a try.
Angelina makes apologies for Nate, telling everyone he had an unexpected call, before selecting Kingsley as her partner to demonstrate her waltz.
By the time Helen orchestrates a two-step to ‘Strangers in the Night’, we’re no longer afraid of making fools of ourselves.
‘Flick! You’re next!’
‘Take your partners for the bush dance!’
I’ve grouped the people who’d signed up to my dance in twos and threes, but when they assemble, Robin has no one to dance with.
‘Where is Dougie?’
‘He hasn’t shown up,’ Angelina says. ‘Nate’s not back either.’
‘Where do we stand?’ Jerry asks. ‘What do we do?’
I grab Robin’s hand. ‘Let’s show them how it’s done.’
The enthusiasm of the dancers trumps the correctness of the steps, but Robin is breathless by the time my dance is over.
‘That was fun!’
When a shirtless Kingsley takes us through a Dirty Dancing line-dancing routine, Angelina and I laugh so hard we have to hold each other up. Next are the climate scientists, who are scheduled to perform an interpretative Midnight Oil ‘Beds are Burning’ dance.
I’m leaning against a wall and sipping lemonade when the swing door to the kitchen opens.
‘Lisse.’
Sebastien, hair pushed back from his face, is dressed entirely in black. He’s often serious, but tonight his tight jaw and grim mouth are next level. Our eyes lock and my heart thumps.
‘What—’
He puts a finger to his mouth before pulling me into the shadows. His hand is freezing cold.
‘When did you last see Nate?’ he says into my ear.
‘You’re not meant to be back yet. How did you get here?’
‘Nate, Lisse. This is important. When?’
‘The dance started at six. Angelina was doing the second dance, but she said Nate couldn’t dance with her because he’d had to make a call. That was—’ I check my watch. ‘An hour ago.’
‘Fuck.’ Sebastien takes his fancy phone from his pocket and checks the screen. ‘Have you seen Dougie?’
‘He put his name on the list to partner Robin for my bush dance, but he didn’t turn up. I haven’t seen him all night.’
The music stops as the climate scientists take people through the steps to their carefully choreographed dance. Sebastien pockets his phone.
‘Why are you dressed like that?’
‘Do exactly what I say.’
A blast behind us. A gunshot? Then a crash and splintering glass. A gaping hole in a floor-to-ceiling window behind the chair where I usually sit. Dougie, a revolver in one hand and a steel bar in the other, smashes an even bigger hole and walks through. People cry out and back away.
‘Quiet!’ Sebastien’s shout. ‘Quiet!’
The air is thick with the hum of terrified whispers as Sebastien loosens my grip on his arm and pushes me towards the door.
‘Wait there,’ he hisses. ‘Help me get them out.’
‘What—’
‘Summer is waiting outside.’
‘Thorsen!’ Dougie shouts out. ‘Get up here where I can see you!’
‘No …’ My voice tapers off as, hands raised above his shoulders, Sebastien walks towards Dougie and the shattered window behind him.
‘Clarissa.’ Sebastien doesn’t have to shout because the room is deathly quiet. ‘Dougie wants me. Everyone else leaves.’
‘No!’ Dougie’s face contorts. ‘I didn’t say that!’
‘You don’t need the others.’
‘I’ll tell you what I need!’
‘You can’t cover all of us.’ Sebastien’s voice is calm.
‘Don’t tell me what I can’t do!’
‘Clarissa,’ Sebastien, even closer to Dougie now, speaks again. ‘Take the others out.’
Dougie looks wildly around. ‘Stay!’ He points the gun at Jerry and Kingsley and they hold up their hands.
‘All good, Dougie,’ Kingsley says. ‘All good.’
‘Clarissa! Flick!’ Sebastien’s shout is loud but measured. ‘Clear the room.’
When Sebastien jerks his head towards the climate scientists, it’s like he’s turned on a switch and everybody comes to life.
One of the younger expeditioners stumbles and Clarissa and another woman grab his arms and drag him along the floor towards me.
Robin is doubling back to help others when Sebastien calls out more orders.
‘Stay together. Go to Flick, then outside. Do what Summer says.’
As other people step up, linking their arms with those too frightened or shocked to move and walking them to the door, I give orders too.
‘Follow the others. Quickly. Don’t look back. Summer will tell you what to do.’
‘I couldn’t find you.’ Angelina is at the back of the crowd. Face pale, she grabs my arm. ‘Where’s Nate?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘He was outside.’
‘We have to do what Sebastien says. He’ll deal with Dougie, then we’ll find Nate.’
She swipes at her face as she nods. ‘Yes.’ She nods again. ‘I’ll find Clarissa and Summer. I’ll help them.’
The climate scientists stand back and push others through the door before leaving.
Angelina, the last to reach the door, turns around. ‘Flick?’
‘Shut the doors.’
‘What about you?’
‘I can leave through the kitchen.’
As Angelina slams the doors, I flatten my body against the wall and, sidestepping through the shadows to the kitchen counter, crouch beneath it.
The stacked chairs obscure me, but I can see clearly.
The shattered window gapes to Dougie’s left.
Kingsley and Jerry, hands on their heads, sit together on the floor.
Sebastien has positioned himself between them and Dougie.
‘Dougie,’ Kingsley says, ‘what has got into you?’
‘Ask Thorsen!’ Dougie jerks the gun up and down. ‘He knows.’
‘I’m the one you want,’ Sebastien says quietly. ‘Let Jerry and Kingsley go.’
‘Just the two of us?’ Dougie snarls. ‘That can’t be fair.’
‘I don’t have a gun.’
Dougie waves the gun at Kingsley. ‘Get over here. Empty Thorsen’s pockets.’
Sebastien holds his arms to the side as Kingsley, hands shaking, follows Dougie’s directions. One by one, he places items on the floor. Phone. A black cap. Earphones. A narrow brown leather case.
‘Kick that over here!’ Dougie blocks the leather case with a foot before picking it up and flicking his wrist. A glint of silver. A long, sharp blade.
‘What’s this for?’
‘It was my grandfather’s.’
‘Was he military?’
‘It’s a fishing knife.’
Dougie considers the blade before clicking it back into the case and putting it in his back pocket.
‘We’re your friends.’ Jerry’s voice is high. ‘How can you do this?’
‘Shut up!’ He waves the gun at Kingsley who sits next to Jerry again. ‘Keep your hands on your heads!’
‘Why take hostages?’ Sebastien deliberately positions himself in front of Dougie again. ‘What do you want?’
Dougie’s eyes shoot left and right. ‘How did you get here?’
‘Parachute.’
‘How many of you are out there?’
‘I came alone.’
‘Gillespie.’ Dougie clicks his fingers in agitation. ‘He went outside to pick you up.’
‘Where is Nate?’ Sebastien’s voice is conversational, as if it’s any other day of the week and he’s asking after his friend.
‘It didn’t feel right him being here, nice as pie, but hovering around. I should have known. Liars! Hypocrites!’
‘Clarissa will be calling for help.’
‘I’m safe while I have this.’
When he points the gun at Sebastien’s chest, my breath catches. I bite on my lip and hold my breath.
‘No one is leaving Morrison, including you.’ Sebastien isn’t pale like Jerry or sweating like Kingsley or holding his breath like me.
‘They’ll get me out,’ Dougie says.
‘Your Russian associates?’ Sebastien slowly shakes his head. ‘Not from here.’