“One thing we need to clarify, Mr. Oak. Is...” Alex looked at his paper for the millionth time. “You’re not Australian. Are you?”
I wanted to lie. To say I was Australian so I wouldn’t be separated from Estelle but my accent gave me away.
My English clip that I couldn't hide.
Anyway, they already knew the truth. They had every detail they needed. I wasn’t an idiot. My verdict had already been decided.
Before I had time to answer, Daphne jumped in. “Mr. Oak, you are in fact from Kent, is that correct?”
“You have our birth certificates and God knows what. Do you really need me to answer that?”
The two officers fell quiet.
These questions were a farce.
I balled my hands tighter. “Just get on with it. What’s the good and bad news?”
Ignoring me, Alex asked, “And you were heading to Fiji on a work visa for three months?”
They wanted to play?
Fine.
“Yes.”
“Yet you ended up overstaying by an extra three years and three months.”
“I hardly call crash landing and having no way off the island a deliberate overstay.”
What was with the skulduggery officials and pompous paperwork? Couldn’t they empathize? Couldn’t they understand what we’d been through? We didn’t need this Spanish inquisition.
“That being the case, we can’t permit you into Australia until necessary forms have been completed.”
“What? You can’t do that—” Estelle leapt in my defence. “He’s mine. We’re married. We have a child together.” She pointed at Coco as if there was any mistaking the blended creation of her blood and mine. “See.”
Alex frowned. “That does bring us to another issue. We will need to figure out what to do with the infant.”
Right, that was it.
“What to do with her? Don’t speak about her like she’s an inconvenience, mate. She’s my daughter.”
Estelle placed a hand on my trembling forearm. “Its okay, G. I’m sure that’s not what they meant.”
“No, quite.” Alex shuffled his papers. “Getting back to the point. We do require correct paperwork. Ms. Evermore is free to enter the country and as the child is clearly hers and below the age of five, she can travel under the proviso of attending the necessary meetings to arrange citizenship.”
“And what about me?” I bit back my rage.
“You, sir, are a little more complicated.”
“I don’t see why. You say I don’t have forms. Well, give me the bloody forms and I’ll fill them out right here, right now.”
“It doesn’t work like that.”
“It can work however you want it to work.”
“I’m afraid that isn’t the case.”
Estelle clutched my hand in hers. “We’re married. Doesn’t that mean anything?”
“Legally?” Daphne raised her eyebrow. “You have a marriage certificate and evidence of this union?”
Estelle straightened her spine, fighting for me. For us. “For all intents and purposes. Yes. Coco is evidence of our relationship. Surely, that’s enough.”
“But the paperwork?”
Estelle didn’t reply.
I did. “No, we don’t have a damn piece of paper. But that shouldn’t matter. We’re not separating. End of bloody story.”
The two officers stared at each other as if we were troublemakers and not long-lost prodigal returners.
Behind us, Nana Evermore couldn’t stop touching Pippa. The longer Pippa stood with her grandmother, the more she lost the persona of wild urchin capable of anything and transmogrified into a scared eleven-year-old girl, bowing to her elders.
Don’t be that kid, Pippi.
I knew her better than that. This was just shock.
Where was the quiet but super-intelligent young woman? Where was the witty jokester, the inquisitive sea-sprite?
I knew where...back on the island. Just like the rest of us.
Nana Evermore interrupted. “Talking of documentation. I’m assuming all ours are in order?”
Estelle’s head snapped up. “What documentation?”
The immigration officers nodded. “You are correct. A temporary passport has been issued and you’re free to return to America.”
“What?” Estelle stumbled. “No!”
Coco sniffed, her face going red with ready-to-spill tears.
“You can’t. I won’t let you.” Estelle dashed to Pippa’s side. “You don’t want to go back to America, Pippi. Stay with us. We’re your family now. You, me, G, Coco, and Conn—” She realised her mistake too late.
Pippa’s face hardened and fell all at once. “My brother is dead.”
She finally said it.
I wish she hadn’t said it.
“I need to be with my family.”
“We are your family.” Estelle grabbed her elbows, ignoring the old woman tutting under her breath. “Pip, don’t do this. We’ll heal together.”
Wisdom far beyond her years filled her gaze. She threw her arms around Estelle. “I’ll always love you, Stelly. I’ll visit and call and never ever forget you. But...I want to go home.”
Home.
Turned out one of us hadn’t replaced that word with our island. Pippa had been the youngest to crash yet the one to hold onto the illusion of civilisation the longest. She’d been loyal while we’d traded our city lives believing our stranding was forever.