Read Online Red by Libby Gleeson - Free Book Online Page B

dad,’ she said quietly. ‘So, how do we get to Melbourne?’
    â€˜Google that too.’
    They were scrolling through railway timetables when Jazz came back into the bedroom waving a credit card. ‘We can use this. By the time Mum finds out I’ve taken it we’ll be back and we can tell her all about it.’
    â€˜We?’ Red raised her eyebrows.
    â€˜If you’re going off somewhere, I want to come too.’ Jazz held onto the card. ‘Come on, Ginger.’
    â€˜It will be more expensive with three and it could be dangerous.’
    â€˜I’ve got the card,’ said Jazz.
    Peri shrugged. ‘I reckon it’s OK. She should come.’
    â€˜OK.’
    Peri and Red stepped back and watched as Jazz settled herself in front of the computer. She clicked through to the train booking page. ‘What names do you want me to put in?’
    â€˜Peri and Ruby Martin.’ Peri pointed at Red. ‘You’ve got more names than a whole footy team.’
    Jazz typed in the details of the credit card. The completed tickets came up and she pressed Print. ‘Tomorrow morning,’ Jazz said, ‘we get the train at Strathfield because that’s the closest station where the country trains stop. Eight o’clock in the morning and we should get there about half an hour before that to find our seats.’
    â€˜How do we get there?’
    â€˜Walk. It’s not far. I’ve done it heaps of times.’
    â€¢ • • • •
    In the afternoon Jazz pulled T-shirts and shorts from her chest of drawers and held them up for Red. ‘You have to have a couple of spares. You can’t wear the same ones all the time.’
    â€˜Peri wears the same ones all the time.’
    â€˜Boys can get away with it.’ She held up a pink top with ruffles around the neck.
    Red laughed. ‘I don’t remember much, Jazz, but I reckon I never wore stuff like that, it’s not me.’ She sifted through the clothes scattered on the bed. She chose a black T-shirt with swirls of muted green and red that made a spiral pattern, and a pair of black jeans.
    â€˜These’ll do.’
    â€¢ • • • •
    â€˜I want to leave a note for Mum and Dad,’ said Jazz.
    â€˜They’re going to freak out.’
    It was seven o’clock. They were in her room filling their backpacks with fruit and drinks from the kitchen.
    â€˜Don’t tell them where we’re going,’ said Red.
    â€˜They’ll just follow us.’
    â€˜Tell them not to go to the police.’ Peri hoisted his bag over his shoulder.
    â€˜Dad is the police,’ said Jazz.
    â€˜Well, tell them Red has remembered something and we are just checking it out and we’ll contact them tonight or tomorrow.’
    â€˜Like I said, they’re going to freak out,’ said Jazz.
    â€˜Too bad.’ Red wanted to leave before Jazz backed down. There was a purpose now. This commissioner would know who her father was, maybe know what had happened to him, might even know who was after him, who wanted to kill him. Maybe getting the memory stick to the commission might save her dad’s life. As she pressed the apples down into her bag, her hand brushed the book she’d taken from the school library. For a moment she thought of taking it out and leaving it on Jazz’s desk. Her fingers felt the smooth, hard cover. She withdrew her hand, empty, and zipped up the pack.
    Jazz scribbled a note and placed it in the middle of her pillow. As they moved quietly along the hallway they could hear Jazz’s parents talking over breakfast on the back verandah. Peri opened the front door and they tiptoed through.
    They didn’t speak as Jazz led them along the footpath to the main shopping strip and across the park. Ahead of them was the railway line and after ten minutes they could see the sprawl of buildings that made up the station.
    â€¢ • • •