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Authors: Jaclyn Moriarty

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PART 22
Lunchtime on a Saturday Two Weeks Later

One

Two weeks had passed since the fire, and Grandpa Zing had already built a gazebo on the site of the garden shed. It was here, for symbolic reasons, that the Zings held their “explanation lunch” for Cath.

While in the hospital, she had been extremely confused by everything Mrs. Zing said, so that, in the end, she spoke in her law-student voice to say, “Why should I not call the police about your shed, please?”

Mrs. Zing asked that she wait until she was home and felt better, and then they could hold an explanation lunch, and
then,
if she still wanted to, she could telephone the police. It was not clear what she could say to the police even if she did call them (the Zings could deny the contents of their burned-down garden shed), and what she really wanted was an explanation. So she had agreed to Mrs. Zing's request.

Cath Murphy sat at one end of the table, and Mr. and Mrs. Zing sat at the other. The table was draped in a new white cloth, and was surrounded by elegant garden chairs. Bellbirds chimed in the bush behind the Zings' back fence. A kookaburra rested on the fence itself, silently watching the family, as they in turn regarded their cucumber soup and reached for their napkins and spoons.

Cath had been introduced to each of the Zings on the way out to the garden, and now she sat with her back straight and surveyed each Zing in turn. On her right sat the girl, Listen, who had rescued her from the fire; then Listen's father, Nathaniel; and Nathaniel's girlfriend, Marbie Zing. On her left sat Cassie Zing; then Cassie's mother, Fancy; and Fancy's husband,
Radcliffe. Occasionally Cassie whispered an observation to Cath. She had already whispered that her parents were getting a divorce, but they were both going to come and watch her win races at the Redwood Sports Carnival the week after next. Now she was whispering something about the mint sauce.

“Well,” declared Mrs. Zing, in a ringing voice, and people drew their hands back from their spoons.

“I thought I would begin with a general explanation,” she said. “Then, if you have any questions, we can do our best to answer them.”

“Mmm,” said Cath faintly.

Mrs. Zing breathed in deeply and began. Her narration was punctuated by clinking spoons, chiming bellbirds, and the occasional chuckle of the kookaburra or whip of a distant whipbird.

“Several years ago,” Mrs. Zing began, tilting her head slightly as if to remind herself of the details, “my husband, Mr. Zing”âhere, Mr. Zing raised a hand to identify himselfâ“yes, Mr. Zing here, went to Ireland to write a novel. While he was away, I got a job making pies on the set of
Pie in the Sky.
I had an affair with the star of that movie, Nikolai Valerioâyes, Nikolai Valerio. I had an affair and became pregnant with his child. I told nobody, not even Nikolai, until five months had passed. Then I told him. Mistake, I suppose! He promised to come to my house to figure things out, but I never saw him again. I got a note from the set decoration supervisor, pinned to an artificial rose, if I remember correctly, and it informed me that
Pie in the Sky
had been moved to a secret location. My pie-making was no longer required.”

She paused and everyone looked at Cath, who was smiling gently.

“Nikolai's career relied, or so his people thought, on his loyalty to his wife, Rebekka. His image was that of perfection. He was the romantic innocent. Now, there were already rumors surrounding Nikolai's friendship with meâpeople had noticed the way we caught each other's eyes,
and, more to the point, a feisty young reporter was on our trail. Do you know, he had a photo of me and Nikolai, slipping into Nikolai's hotel?! This reporter had approached me, posing as some kind of a set electrician, and asked me all about myself. Me, being a chatterbox, mentioned that my husband was in Ireland and had been gone for almost a year. I think you'll see where this is going!”

Cath clenched her teeth and looked around the table. Apart from Listen and Cassie, who were staring at Mrs. Zing in wonder, everybody was eating calmly, now and then glancing sideways at Cath. It seemed that nobody planned to stop this woman. Cath was going to have to participate in the humoring of somebody delusional, and she was not sure she believed in that.

“Anyway,” continued the delusional woman, “the reporter had been asking questions. He didn't have much, of courseâthere could be all sorts of innocent reasons why I was with Nikolai outside his hotel. But if it emerged that I had become pregnant? While my husband was away? Well! You get the picture. So, Nikolai's people took steps. They flew Rebekka over to join Nikolai, and gave the reporter those famous photos of the two of them dancing barefoot in a meadow. They got my husband, David, to come home, to try to improve appearances. They rushed me, David, Fancy, and Marbie”âFancy and Marbie raised their hands, solemnly, to identify themselvesâ“to a secret location by the sea. There, they offered me a deal.”

“A deal?” prompted Cath, still playing along, but growing increasingly irritable. She had not touched her soupspoon.

“Right. Valerio's people would arrange for youâyou understand, of course, that
you
were the babyâyes, they would arrange for you to be adopted, and
I
could secretly keep an eye on you. They set up a corporate structure through which I would communicate with Nikolai, report on your progress, and make requisitions for anything you needed. The
corporation paid Mr. Zing and me a generous salary for our work. I'm sure you can never forgive me for giving you up, Cath, but let me assure you, I did it for your own sake. I wanted you to have a normal life. If I'd kept you, that reporter would have added things up, and it would have come out, and truly, if the world knew who your real father wasâ”

At last, Cath interrupted. “My
biological
parents,” she said firmly, “died in a house fire. I have a photograph of them at home, and I can assure you my father is not Nikolai Valerio. Nikolai Valerio! For heaven's sake. Of course,” she continued, her voice growing strident, “I have adoptive parents who I consider to be my parents. They live in Perth and know nothing about what I found in your garden shed, because I knew it would just upset and confuse them, but don't think for a moment that I won't tell them if I need to! I don't want to hear another word about Nikolai Valerio. I
know
who my parents are! I'll show you the photo if you like. But I want one sane person to tell me
right this moment
why you people had all that information about me. I mean, right now. Stop wasting my time, or I'm calling the police.” She held up her cell phone, impressively.

“Ah!” said Mrs. Zing. “The photographs of your â
parents
'! I'd almost forgotten. Yes, we arranged two photos. One, if I remember rightly, was of a young blondish couple, the other of a big firefighter who was supposed to have rescued you. All three were regular extras in Nikolai's movies. We made up the fire story so you'd never go looking for your biological parents.”

“Your adoptive parents seem like very nice people,” said Mr. Zing. “It's probably a good thing that you haven't upset them with this.”

“About the shed,” Fancy put in helpfully. “Well, we kept all our records about you there, as well as the photos. Medical, dental, educationalâ¦”

Cath choked on her gasp.

“Oh,” said Fancy sadly.

“It was like this,” tried Radcliffe, leaning his elbows on the table. “Here's an example. You remember when you had that skiing accident when you were sixteen or so?”

“You needed reconstructive surgery for your knee,” Marbie reminded her.

“Oh yes!” said Mrs. Zing. “We all learned as much as we could about knees and knee operations! We became quite the experts! All the information isâ”

Cath had stopped listening. “How do you know about the photo of my biological parents?” she demanded, but her voice trembled. “They
did
die in a fire. They're not
extras
in a film. How do you know about my photos?”

Mrs. Zing suggested that they go inside and watch the DVD of
Turntable Troubles,
Nikolai Valerio's fifth movie. Radcliffe pointed out, as the movie began, that Cath had the same fine cheekbones and bump on the end of her nose as Nikolai. She ignored him. Mrs. Zing paused at the spots in the movie when Cath's “mother,” “father,” and “heroic firefighter” appeared as extras in the background.

It was confirmed that
Turntable Troubles
had been made five years after these people were supposed to have “died.”

Two

Extracts from the Zing Garden Shed (Burnt Fragments)

C
OMITO
R. B., “C
OMPRESSION
P
IN
F
IXATION OF
A
RTICULAR
P
HALANGEAL
F
RACTURES
,” R
OYAL
B
ARTHOLOMEW
O
RTHOPEDIC
R
EVIEW
, V
OL
. XII, NO. 2, F
EBRUARY
1989

R
ECURRING
N
IGHTMARE
N
O
. 4

A
VERY SCARY RABBIT STANDS IN THE CENTER OF THE ROAD
. I
T IS ORDINARY-SIZED AND ORDINARY TO LOOK AT, BUT THERE IS SOMETHING VERY SCARY ABOUT IT
.

N
UMBER OF
R
EPORTED
R
ECURRENCES
: 3

S
UBJECT'S
A
GE
: II

R
EPORTER
: N
EWSPAPER DELIVERY BOY

S
URVEILLANCE
E
QUIPMENT
âC
ONSIGNMENT

P
ENCIL SHARPENER WITH HIDDEN CAMERA, TRANSMITTER, AND RECEIVER
.

R
ETAIL
P
RICE
: $250

Y
OUR
F
REQUENT
B
UYER
P
RICE
: $225

Three

Cath was staring at Cassie, who was spearing peas onto her fork. She had three peas on each prong of her fork, and was trying for another.

“All right,” Cath said finally, looking up around the table. “Just
assuming
that this story is trueâ”

“Oh, it
is,
” interrupted Radcliffe, buttering a slice of bread vigorously.

“Just assuming,” repeated Cath sternly, and Mrs. Zing nodded her encouragement. “How did you get all that information about me? You had photographs of me at my desk in elementary school. You had photographs of me in my law classes! In my
dining room
! You had photos of my ankles! You had my
academic records
!”

“Well, good question,” said Mrs. Zing. “We had three main avenues of inquiry. First, and most importantly, we had spies. Second, we had gathering techniques. Third, we had one or two hidden cameras.” She raised her voice slightly, so she could pretend not to hear Cath blustering, “
Spies
? Hidden
cameras
?”

“In relation to spies, we chose people around the edges of your life. Your postman, the dental nurse, the school secretary, the local florist, colleagues, acquaintances, bus drivers, and so on. They had to engage you in conversation, ask routine questions, take secret photos of you, and so on. And if we needed to get into your apartment for some reason, we might send out an Urgent Request for a Distraction to all the spies. We recruited them by hinting that this was a top secret, yet slightly shady organizationâyou know, we appealed to their thirst for adventure. They didn't
know anything about the Valerio connection, of course. And they had to sign very strict confidentiality agreements. We paid them so well that it was hard for them to refuse. Also easy for them to ignore any pangs of conscienceâ¦”

“Mum did most of the recruiting,” said Fancy. “She always knew exactly the right people to approach. She never got a refusal.”

“In relation to gathering techniques, well, Fancy and Marbie developed all sorts of methods for getting access to school offices, dentists, doctors, physical therapists, and so on, and taking photos of your records. We were meticulous about maintaining up-to-date information. Cath, you really should eat. You need protein and carbohydrates to help recover from burns, I read that. Nathaniel, help Cath to the gravy, would you?”

“Of course,” said Nathaniel politely.

“And in relation to the hidden cameras?” Cath said coldly, ignoring the hovering gravy boat. Nathaniel set it down next to her plate.

“Well, don't worry yourself too much about that,” said Mrs. Zing. “They never had sound recording devices, so we didn't hear what you said. We had several around your house when you were small.”

“We should let her know that her adoptive parents didn't have anything to do with this,” said Mr. Zing.

“You're right,” agreed Mrs. Zing. “This had nothing to do with them. They never had a clue. That was a golden rule. But anyway, we cut back on the number of cameras as you got older, to protect your privacy. From the age of twelve, we stayed out of your bedroom, for exampleâthat's the age when I stopped going into Fancy and Marbie's bedroom, so it seemed about right.”

“You cut back on the number of cameras,” said Cath, “to
protect my privacy
?”

Everyone looked down at their food.

Four

Extracts from the Zing Garden Shed (Burnt Fragments)