Emerald Sky by David Clarkson Page A

about with her boyfriend just enough to make
the relationship appear genuine. Apart from that, she kept herself to herself.
She most certainly did not entertain visitors at home.
    Taking on a new identity was never easy.
The difficulty was compounded when the old identity was being sought by people
with seemingly endless resources. She could not for one moment allow her
vigilance to waver. That is why she had committed the names and faces of all
2,307 of the town’s residents to her memory. A school project she had initiated
based around family trees helped considerably with this. It also afforded her
the ability to compartmentalise the various branches and more easily build the
whole picture.
    On top of the names and faces she was
also aware of what everybody did for a living and where they were supposed to
be at particular times. She also knew the make and colour of every car in town.
Jim Canning drove an orange-beige Camry. Ed Hoyland drove a red Honda. Sheila
Robinson a white Ford and so the list went on. If anything was out of place or
not how it was supposed to be, she knew about it. That is why the sound of a
car pulling into her driveway caused her so much alarm.
    Carefully, she placed her index finger
between the blinds and opened up a slither to peek through.
    It was a police car. The plates were from
Victoria, but also from out of town. She guessed at Melbourne or one of the
outer suburbs. This told her all she needed to know. She knew it involved Adam
before the policeman opened up the back door to allow her pseudo-boyfriend to
get out.
    The two men exchanged a few words before
the one in uniform returned to his vehicle and drove away.
    Various worst case scenarios battled
rational explanations within the endless corridors of her imagination. Had he
committed a crime or was he the victim? Had the law been broken or was this
resulting from some terrible accident? Did it really matter either way?
    Packing to leave would not be a problem.
She always kept a small bag containing everything she would need under her bed.
Whatever the case; he would have to deal with it. Her anonymity could be
compromised for nobody.
    ‘What in Hell’s name is going on?’ she
demanded, as she let him into the house (unlike her, he did not have a key to
his partner’s home).
    ‘I’m so sorry,’ he replied, his face
ashen with either worry or grief.
    ‘Sorry about what? What have you done,
Adam?’
    ‘It was just a bit of fun. I didn’t know
any of this would happen. Now I’m going to lose everything. I’ll get fired from
work and nobody in this town will employ me ever again.’
    She instinctively reacted to his body
language by placing her arms around him and resting his head on her shoulder.
She could feel the tears from his muffled sobs leak through into the material
of her shirt. The urge to offer comfort was strong; she was, after all, a
compassionate person, but she had to fight it nonetheless. Emotion was not an
option.
    ‘Whatever’s happened, you’ll be able to
deal with it. Just start from the beginning and tell me what you did that’s so
bad.’
    She led him into the lounge and set him
down on the sofa whilst she went into the kitchen to make two cups of tea. By
the time she rejoined him he had calmed down considerably and looked to have
finally regained control of his emotions.
    ‘The police brought you here and not to a
prison cell, so I’m at least guessing you’ve escaped any serious charges,’ she
said, handing him his brew. ‘Whatever happens, you’ve still got a life to
return to.’
    ‘I wish it was that simple,’ he replied.
‘Pretty soon everybody will know what I did. Or rather - who I did.’
    His tone changed towards the end as if he
were suddenly seeing a funny side to what had happened, but the words had the
opposite effect on Alex. Once more, she could feel panic rising in her chest.
    ‘What do you mean; “who you did”?’ she
asked.
    He told her the name. It was one she had
heard