Faith peers into the bathroom, before planting her hands on her hips. ‘Where’s Elis?’
They all turn to look at the heap of sofa cushions, pillows and red sleeping bag that has served as Elis’s bed for the past couple of nights.
‘He’s probably gone for a walk or something,’ George says.
Faith pulls back a curtain and peers out of the window. ‘Not great weather for a hike. It’s pelting pick handles out there.’
George stands and steps into a pair of trousers. ‘You know what he’s like; thinks he’s bloody Ray Mears. He’s probably fashioned a shelter out of logs and bear hides.’
‘There are no bears in New Zealand,’ Faith says.
‘Rat skins, then.’
‘He’s probably gone to the bird hide,’ Reubyn says. ‘I’d be there myself, if I hadn’t given up hope of seeing one of those bloody kakapo.’
For an hour or so they lounge around, get dressed and drink weak room-temperature tea. Eventually Polly and Jessie join them, and everyone begins the process of reorganising the space and packing up their stuff. They have a late breakfast of cereal and lukewarm milk, and Jessie makes sandwiches for the journey. Lastly, Reubyn brings in the slide-outs that extend the living area, returning the space to how it was before they arrived. All loose items have been secured, and the only stuff left on the floor is Elis’s. It’s all in a heap next to his half-empty backpack: his sleeping bag, toiletries, clothes. In the couple of hours it’s taken them to pack everything up, most of the chat has been about where the hell he’s gone. They’ve speculated about his mood, what he’s doing, when he’ll be back. George, Miles and Reubyn are of the opinion that it’s nothing to worry about. But the others – Jessie in particular – are becoming increasingly dramatic about it, as if Elis is a vulnerable child or pet that’s gone missing, instead of a grown man with a love of the outdoors.
Now, in a physical manifestation of that split, they sit, three to a bench; the girls on one side, boys on the other.
‘I think we should just get going,’ George says.
Faith, directly opposite, glares at him. ‘We’re obviously not going anywhere without him.’
‘Well, what does he expect? He knows we’re leaving today. If he wanted to come with us, he shouldn’t have gone AWOL.’
Faith doesn’t respond, but, even out of the corner of his eye, George can tell she’s giving him daggers.
‘We should go look for him,’ Jessie says.
George scoffs. ‘In this weather?’
‘We should at least check the trails and the bird hide.’
‘Oh, should we?’ George says, wide-eyed at Jessie. ‘And areyouvolunteering to do that?’
‘No, but I don’t think—’
‘Thought not,’ George says. ‘And I’m not going either. The bastard took a swing at me yesterday, so forgive me if I’m not in a rush to go out and find him.’
Jessie looks at Miles, asking a question with a hopeful raise of her eyebrows.
He shakes his head. ‘I’m not doing it. My clothes still haven’t dried out since the last time I went out looking for him.’
‘But he’s your friend.’
‘And he’s a big boy. If Elis wants to go walkabout, then that’s his choice. He doesn’t need me.’
Faith stands. ‘I’ll go.’
Jessie takes hold of her wrist. ‘Not on your own. It’s not safe.’
The girls look at Reubyn, who initially avoids their eye contact. It appears he’s not in a hurry to search for Elis, either.
‘Look, there’s no rush,’ Reubyn says, eventually. ‘The weather’s still horrendous, and I wouldn’t mind leaving it for a bit before we leave, anyway, to see if the wind backs off a—’
‘Reubyn,’ Polly snaps. ‘Don’t you dare start this again.’
‘Start what?’
