Eden Forest (Part one of the Saskia Trilogy) (5 page)

Chapter One

Ireland ~ Present Day

(Sarajane)

I
t’s Sunday so I get muffled up and shove on my black wellies

that are decorated with pink hearts. I smile to myself. Josh

bought them for me. Josh is my best friend. We met when I

was only ten years of age at our local beach, here in Blackrock,

Co. Louth. From that day on, we never looked back.

“Sarajane, you can’t keep doing this.” My smile vanishes

as Dad stands in the kitchen doorway. His face is drawn with

sadness. I button up my army-green jacket.

“I can’t stop, Dad,” I say while pulling a black woolly hat

down over my hair. A car horn beeps outside. I kiss Dad on the

cheek without meeting his eyes. “I’ll be back before dark,” I say

and stick my gloves in my pocket.

“Sarajane.” I turn around and face him. “Please be careful.”

I force a smile. “Always am, Dad.”

Josh has the heater up full blast, as it is a cold morning

outside. He’s wrapped in a puffy black jacket, jeans, and heavy,

black military-style boots. His blond hair is tucked away under

a black cap.

“Love the boots,” Josh says while he reverses out of the

driveway of our two-story house. We live in a cul-de-sac with

two other families. We keep to ourselves and so do they.

I look back at the house and Dad is standing in the sitting

room, looking out the window, wrapped in grief. I give a small

wave and then we are out of sight. The drive is always silent as

we make our way to the forest, my mind racing,

praying today will be the day we find something.

Josh pulls in at a filling station. “Coffee?” he asks while

taking off his seat belt.

“Yes, thanks.” His door closes and I watch as people go on

with their daily lives. It looks so simple, no major complications.

When my mother was around, I never realised how great my life

was. Josh climbs back in, then hands me my coffee and drops a

bag onto the floor on my side.

“What did you get?” I ask as he turns the key in the ignition.

“Your favourite. Tuna sandwich with lots of mayonnaise.”

We leave the filling station and I wrap my hands around my

coffee for extra warmth. We arrive at the parking lot just on the

outskirts of the forest. I climb out, still clinging to my cup. We

follow our usual trail. The ground is muddy from the rain. This

causes my wellies to make squishing noises. Josh has nailed red

pieces of cloth onto trees to help us remember the area we need

to search. I send up another silent prayer that today I will find

something, anything.

This area was the last place my mother was before she

disappeared six months ago. She was out that day, walking

Charlie, our dog. The Garda found Charlie dead, along with

my mum’s blue rain mac. That is all we have left of her.

It made no sense, her disappearance. There was no ransom.

We weren’t wealthy, just comfortable, so that was ruled out

earlier on in the search. Also, my mother had no enemies. She

was just a housewife.

We take opposite sides of our outlined area and comb the

ground for clues. After two hours of coming up empty-handed,

we return to the car. Josh gives me my sandwich and a bottle

of minerals.

“Josh, do you think when someone dies they would linger

around?”

He takes a drink before answering me. “Yes, I suppose, if

they have unfinished business.”

I know Josh is just being kind. He really believes if you’re

dead, that’s it, lights out.

“I don’t feel her here,” I say.

Josh places his hand over mine. “That’s good, Sarajane.” Pity

fills his brown eyes, and it makes me angry.

I push his hand away. “She is alive.”

He places his hands on the steering wheel, his knuckles

turning white from his grip. I know he believes she’s dead and

I’m in denial. “You can’t keep this up.”

I seal my sandwich, having lost my appetite. “Keep what

up?” I ask, knowing fully well what he is talking about. I knew one day I would have this conversation.

Josh turns to me. “Sarajane, please. Searching for her in the

same place for the last six months is not healthy.”

My temper flares. “Sorry for taking up your Sundays.” I

jump out of his car, slamming the door, and return to the

forest.

Josh follows me. “Sarajane, this is not about my time.” I

keep walking, splashing mud past my wellies up onto my black

jeans. Josh catches up with me. “Just stop.” He stands in front

of me. “I’m trying so hard to help you. You know I would

do anything for you, right? I don’t care about my time. I just

worry about you.”

I look away, shaking my head. Tears fill my eyes. “If I stop

looking, it means I’ve given up on her.” My tears spill over. Josh

pulls me into his chest and lets me cry. Afterwards, I use my

glove to clean my face and nose.

“I will come with you every Sunday forever, but I just think

there is nothing to find here.”

I look into his brown eyes. “I won’t stop.”

He wraps an arm around me and kisses my head. “Okay, we

won’t stop, then.”

We search for a few more hours, but find nothing. Josh drops

me off at my house just as it’s getting dark.

Jessica and Dad are in the sitting room when I arrive home.

“Sarajane, is that you?” Dad calls from the couch.

“Yes, just getting changed.”

I kick off my muddy boots and leave them at the door. Then

I race upstairs to change into my pyjamas bottoms and a T-shirt. I tie my hair up and splash cold water on my face before heading to the sitting room. I take a deep breath and plaster a smile on my face before entering.

A bowl of popcorn sits on the coffee table. I’m not hungry

by any means, but I need to look fine. “Oh, popcorn!” I grab a

handful and sit down beside Jessica, eating one at a time. We sit

there and watch It’s A Wonderful Life, Jessica’s favourite film.

It feels so depressing to watch it tonight. Once it ends, we all

head to bed. I feel more down than I did earlier, and Jessica and

Dad look no better.

BLEEP, BLEEP, BLEEP! My alarm clock wakes me out of

a nightmare. I sit up in my bed and push my hair away from my

damp forehead. The clock flashes seven a.m., plenty of time for

a shower before work. Once showered, I pull on a clean pair of

black jeans. I finish it off with a blue T-shirt and black boots.

Scooping up my black curly hair, I place it on the top of my

head.

“Jessica, it’s time to wake up.” I bang on my sister’s door

again. “Last chance or I’ll come in there and pull you out of

bed.” A few seconds later, the door creaks open.

“I’m awake, okay, Sarajane, so stop bugging me.” She rubs

her eyes, squinting at me. “Since you’re dressed, you can make me

breakfast.” While rolling my eyes, I head for the stairs. Jessica

is normally a morning person, but since Mum’s disappearance,

it’s taken its toll on us all.

I finish my breakfast and head for my car. It’s an old Renault.

My parents bought it for my eighteenth birthday, which was

three years ago. I beep the horn just as Jessica is coming out the

door with toast in her mouth.

“You need to learn some patience,” she says with her mouth

full.

Ignoring her statement, I pull out of the drive and make my

way to Jessica’s secondary school.

“Have a good day,” I say just as she slams the car door and

races over to her friends. I mumble to myself as I drive away.

“Have a good day yourself, Sarajane. Oh, and thanks for dropping me to school.”

I arrive at work with fifteen minutes to spare, so I head into

our local shop for a takeaway coffee.

“Morning, Sarajane, how are you today?” Mr. McCormack

owns the shop. He’s about seventy years old and has known

me all my life, so I know his concern is genuine, unlike Mrs.

Parkinson, who loves to gossip. She’s the town’s daily newspaper

and I see her in aisle three.

“I’m good, Mr. McCormack.”

“What can I get you, dear?”

“Black coffee, please.” When he comes back with my coffee,

I place the money in his hand and leave just as Mrs. Parkinson

is making a beeline for me.

“See you,” I call back to Mr. McCormack over my shoulder.

“Good-bye, dear,” he calls after me.

I cross the road and make my way into work. Susan and

Christine are already in the bookstore, talking about Susan’s

new love interest of the week.

“So who is the lucky fellow this time?” I ask while stashing

my bag under the counter. Susan fumbles with the books in her

hands while Christine makes herself busy.

“Oh, no one you know.” Susan places the books on the

trolley and starts pushing it down the aisle. I catch up with her,

blocking her way.

“Why are you guys acting so weird?”

Christine stops what she is doing. “Susan, just tell her.”

I place my hand on my hip, feeling irritated. “Tell me what?”

Susan lets out a heavy groan. “It’s Max. Look, I know you

guys had to listen to me after… well, you know, the last time,

but he’s changed. Really, Sarajane, he has.”

Oh God, Susan is asking for trouble and she knows it, but

I’m not her mother. “Whatever makes you happy, Susan, but

please, be careful.”

She gives me a smile. “He has changed. But what about Josh?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll talk to him and make sure he’s at least

pleasant.” Susan looks so relieved. “But if he isn’t, I really can’t

blame him.”

Christine joins in. “Me neither, Susan. Josh really helped you

out the last time with Max, and I don’t blame him for hating

the guy now.”

Now Susan looks worried again, but she keeps defending

Max, her ex, who hit her at a party. If Josh wasn’t there, I don’t

know how far he would have went, but yes, he was really drunk

and thought Susan kissed someone else, which she didn’t, but in

my mind, it was no excuse.

I change the subject, much to Susan’s relief, and we talk

about the upcoming ball that is in the next couple of days. I

didn’t get tickets, but around our small town there’s always

great excitement leading up to it.

The day goes by quickly and I’m grateful. I don’t know what

Susan is thinking, but she really seems adamant.

After work, I head home and stick a lasagna in the oven.

Food isn’t great since Mum’s missing and I was elected the chef.

I tidy over as I wait for the lasagna to cook. My phone vibrates

on the table. A text from Josh.

What are you doing tonight?

Sitting in with Dad and Jessica
. I hit send and set the table.

My phone vibrates again.

Want company?

Sure.

Two minutes later, another text
. See you at eight thirty.

Okay.

Dad arrives home as I’m dishing out dinner. He lands a kiss

on the top of my head. “Smells lovely.”