The Named by Marianne Curley Read Free Book Online

surprise me, and then I remember the story of his sister’s death. I was too little to be aware of it at the time, but Matt and Mum have mentioned her over the years. ‘How did your sister die?’
    I think at first he’s not going to answer, then he says with a small shrug of his shoulders, ‘It’s a bit of a mystery.’
    ‘Really? I thought Mum said she’d been ill.’
    ‘The autopsy stated a massive brain haemorrhage, caused by a rare aneurism she’d probably had since birth.’
    ‘That’s terrible.’
    ‘But she was only ten and had never shown previous signs of illness. Not even one headache.’
    ‘How did you all cope?’
    He pushes aside a half-fallen log that blocks thepath. ‘I don’t remember a thing,’ he says quickly.
    ‘You were probably too young.’
    ‘Four,’ he says and shivers suddenly.
    I start wishing we’d never got on to this subject. ‘I don’t remember much from when I was four,’ I reply softly. That was about the age I was when my father left.
    He gives himself a thorough shake as if shedding the memory. ‘Well, anyway, I think Dad took it the worst.’
    ‘Oh?’
    ‘Yeah, he’s never been the same since.’
    ‘How so?’
    ‘Mum reckons he used to be more outgoing, adventurous. A risk taker. Someone you just wanted to be around. Someone I would have been proud of.’
    I think about what I know of Mr Roberts now, selling his leatherwork from one of the craft workshops at the Angel Falls Café. A quiet, modest man who hardly speaks. ‘He’s a talented craftsman. His leatherwork is just beautiful.’
    ‘Mum reckons he could have been anything he wanted.’
    ‘Maybe this is what he wants.’
    ‘If it is, then why does he never smile? My house is like a morgue.’
    As I wonder what it would be like to live with a person who never smiles, Ethan grabs my arm and tugs me down behind a thick flowering bush.
    ‘What is it?’
    He pulls me down lower to the ground, putting a finger to his lips, frowning in uncertainty. His reaction makes me think we’re doing something we shouldn’t. Like when he took off this morning, always peekingover his shoulder. Cautiously he reaches up for a peep, then breaks out in a wide and relieved smile. ‘It’s nothing.’ He drags on my jumper sleeve to keep going.
    Peering over my shoulder, I see a photographer snapping shots of the valley beyond the ridge. But Ethan’s uneasiness arouses my curiosity. ‘Tell me why you dragged me up here.’
    ‘There’s a cabin I want to show you. It’s not a real cabin now, just the remains of one. We can talk there.’
    ‘A deserted cabin? Deep in quiet bushland? I wonder why you didn’t tell Matt our destination?’
    Ignoring my sarcasm, he keeps going, heading into deeper scrub. After a while he turns his torch on as the thickening canopy overhead blocks out the remaining afternoon light. I start getting the creeps and tug on Ethan’s arm. ‘Ah, I think we should turn back.’
    Ethan stops and turns round. ‘Why? We’re nearly there.’
    With a wide sweep of my arm I indicate the surrounding deepening woodland. ‘It’s just bush. And it’s getting darker the deeper we go into it. It’s creepy.’
    But then he says, ‘What happened to that pesky little monkey I used to know who couldn’t stop climbing trees and jumping down cliffs and getting into trouble?’
    My head tilts to one side. He’s appealing to that part of me I’ve always found difficult to deny. ‘How much further? Exactly?’
    ‘Ten more minutes, I promise.’
    ‘And when we get to this half-standing deserted cabin you’re going to tell me how I managed to heal myself this morning?’
    ‘Absolutely.’
    He has me now completely hooked, and he knows it.He doesn’t even wait for a reply, but starts jogging off in a general forward direction. I run to catch up. After ten or so minutes he stops, and starts pulling vines down out of his way. I follow and before I realise it, we’re standing beneath a couple of old wooden