Archive of Our Own

From where he stood inside Andrew Robinson’s personal space, Declan Napier glowered at him through a set of dark eyebrows. “You should drop this investigation of yours now. You aren’t Elle. So give up.” Then, he stalked off in that way that he did, leaving Andrew alone in the hospital hallway, surrounded by the white noise of beeping machines and sensible shoes clicking on the linoleum floors. He stood, silent and still and not knowing what to say in response, even if Declan had stayed around to hear one. But then, he thought, who the Hell is Elle Robinson, anyway? 

He knew, intellectually, who Elle Robinson was. Dad’s youngest daughter, born to him and a woman named Gail. She was twenty-something, she’d been Donna’s guardian while she was at school, she was a journalist in the Middle East, and she was Dad’s pride and joy. Declan and Rebecca had said not to contact her, about Dad after the…Well. Whatever it was. Accident. Attempted murder. Told him that they didn’t want to bother her and at the time he’d thought nothing of it. He didn’t know her personally. Who cared if she was here, or there? Except, now he’s thinking that maybe he does care. She’s an investigative journalist, if anyone could help him figure out what happened to Dad then wouldn’t it be her? The prodigal daughter? But it’s not like he can just call her. For starters, he doesn’t have her phone number, and worse than that even if he did, would she pick it up for him? She’s on a satellite phone, her reception is pretty limited. He doesn’t even have her number, so what’s the point? When Toadie drops Rebecca off, he gives Andrew a look. Andrew looks back, if only because he has nothing else to do. 

“You want a ride home?” He asks. Andrew thinks about it and then nods his head yes. 

As they drive, he keeps thinking about Elle. About how he has a sister he has never met, and about how she looks like him. He’d never really had someone who looked like him before - not in the sense that Scotland and Sydney and Brazil had no blonde-haired blue-eyed boys in them, but in the sense that he’d never looked like Mum. She was beautiful, there was no doubt about that, but she had a kind of long face, with long brown hair and brown eyes. When he’d seen the first picture of Elle Dad had to show him, he’d been stunned because she looked just like him. The same round nose, the same high-set eyes, the same blonde hair and the same square jaw. He didn’t look much like Dad, but he looked like Elle.

“Something on your mind?” Toadie asked as they pulled up to a red light, “Other than the obvious?” 

“What was Elle like?” He asked, turning to look at him. Aficionado of both bowling shirts, and suit vests, if Andrew had to guess he’d say Toadie was probably in his late twenties, with short but styled brown hair, and a goatee. He’d always seemed pleasant, but frequently blinded by his unrelenting desire to protect those around him. So far, he hasn’t requested payment for representing him to that detective, which was good because as of right now Andrew is all but flat broke. 

“Elle?” He asks, a little surprised. He turns down the radio, which is playing some pop garbage Andrew wouldn’t play to torture someone with. 

“Yeah. My sister. You were neighbours.” 

“I knew her.” He confirms, “Elle was, or, I should say, just one of those people who wants to live. She went through a long list of bad things one after the other but stubbornly refused to die.”

“A plane crash?” He did know about the plane crash, Mum heard about it on the news and spent the evening unable to take her eyes off the TV. He’d only been eleven, old enough to know something was wrong but still young enough to be protected from the worst of it. When they announced Dad was found he’d thought that was the end of it. 

“You know about that?” 

“Everyone knows about that.” 

“Why do you ask?” 

“I feel like someone should tell her, that Dad’s in hospital.” 

“No one told her?” 

“Rebecca told me and Kate not to bother her, that she’s too busy. You wouldn’t have her number, would you?” 

“No, we weren’t really friends,” Toadie says back, his eyes now firmly on the road. Seems like there’s something there, but Andrew doesn’t care to go fishing for it. “I’m sure Donna has it, though.” 

“Donna is on her honeymoon.” 

“What about Rebecca?” 

“I’m not going to bother her, we had a fight, anyway.” 

“Declan?” Andrew doesn’t even dignify that with a reply. “Okay, fair enough. Look, I’m sure your Dad has an address book, why don’t you start there?” That was as good a place to start as any. 

…

He found Dad’s digital address book in his computer, where there were three numbers listed for Elle, the first two had labels that read ‘out of service’ and the third was labelled ‘satellite phone’, so he guessed he would start with that one. When he picked up his phone, he finally wondered if this was a good idea. Rebecca knew Elle better than he did, if she said she would be too busy then who was Andrew to disagree? What if he says his name and she hangs up, not interested in having any more brothers after the last two ended so…Explosively? What if she just doesn’t care? He paused and looked at his phone keypad, then back to Elle’s number, then back to the keypad. Can you even call a satellite phone from a mobile? What choice did he have? So, he typed the number, one shaky finger at a time and lifted the phone to his ear. It rang once. Twice, then - 

“Robinson. You’re on the satellite phone so be quick.” Andrew, in a fit of panic, hung up. He realized for the first time, that Elle Robinson is a real person. It’s not that he didn’t know that, of course, but it’s the first time he’d ever realized it. Elle was real, just like him. She’s not just pixels on the screen of a home movie on Dad’s laptop, she’s not just a framed photo or a funny anecdote. She’s a person with a voice, who can speak. A person he just hung up on. Quickly he called her back. The phone only rings once this time. 

“Who is this?” Elle demands, instead of delivering a greeting. 

“Andrew.” He answers, without even thinking about it. “Andrew Robinson.” He clarified, “Your brother.” 

“I know who Andrew Robinson is.” She replied, and he can almost hear a frown in her words. 

“And this is Lucinda Robinson?” 

“Call me Elle.” She says, without hesitation, “No one calls me Lucinda. How can I help you, Andrew?” 

“Um…” He says, feeling like all human language has been knocked out of his brain. “Has someone told you about Dad?” He asks, in a rush. 

“Has…Something happened to Dad?” 

“Someone pushed him off the Lassiters Mezzanine.” 

“Is he okay?!” She demands, or, squawks. 

“We don’t know. He’s in a coma.” Silence on the other end of the phone, and then what sounds like it could be a sob, a sniff, and then - 

“Okay. Do they know who pushed him?” 

“No. That’s kind of why I was calling you.” 

“Me?” 

“You’re an investigator, right? The cops aren’t doing anything. I need someone who will.” 

“Why didn’t Rebecca call me?” 

“I don’t know. She told Kate not to call you either. She said you were busy.” 

“Not so busy I can’t come see my comatose father.” She bristled like he’d said something that offended her. “Do you have any leads?” 

“Not really. Maybe one.” 

“Do you have copies of the security footage from the Mezzanine?” 

“No.” 

“When you say he was pushed -” 

“From the left side. He fell through the glass. He’s uh -” Andrew pauses to compose himself, “It looks pretty bad.” 

“How bad?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“What do you know?” 

“That you should be here.” He says, matching her sudden energy shift. Elle sighs audibly on the other side of the line. 

“Sorry, I - Sorry.” She pauses, considering something. “So you have copies of the security footage from Lassiters?”

“No, I don’t think anyone even knows that there are cameras up there. And if they do then Declan’s not going to let me get them.” 

“Declan? Does he work at Lassiter's now?” 

“Dad’s number one.” He knows he shouldn’t be bitter - he had his chance and he ruined it but he doesn’t know how to let it go. 

“Hm, you said he fell on the left side?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Do you think Harold’s camera might have caught it?”
 
“I wouldn’t know.” 

“Okay, look. If I leave now it’s probably still going to take me at least a day and a half to get back to Melbourne. So, I need you to take some steps in that time so we have a base to work from when I get there. You need to get security footage.” 

“The cops seem more interested in people’s statements. Should I get those?” 

“No, don’t bother. People misremember all the time. A security camera can’t lie to us. If you’re serious about running your investigation then at least get the footage from the store. Try and get it through Lou, he doesn’t understand the technology so he’ll be easier to get past. Spin a story about needing it for insurance, and tell him I’m flying in to help Declan run Lassiters.” 

“Okay.” He agreed, “Anything else?” 

“Who are the suspects?” 

“Declan, Rebecca, Diana Marshall - That’s Rosemary’s ex-man on the inside - Lyn, Toadie, Sonya and me.” 

“You?” 

“I can explain. “

“I hope you can I -” A loud noise came down the phone line. “Damn it. Okay, I have to go. I’ll call you when I’m at the airport, okay?” 

“Yeah. Okay.” 

“You did the right thing calling me, Andrew.” She assured him, “But don’t tell anyone else you have. We don’t want them to start hiding things. Keep playing dumb for now.” 

“See you when I see you.” He said, and without saying goodbye, she hung up.
…

Following that, Andrew decided its best to do as Elle suggested and find the security footage from Harolds. On the way in, he paused. He looked up and to the left, on the outside of a building, there was, in fact, a camera he never noticed before. It slowly moves its head from left to right, the lens was black and shiny. He wondered what it saw on a day-to-day basis, and if it would be any help at all in figuring out what happened to Dad. He knew he should head back to the hospital before the end of the night, and tell him about calling Elle, and how he was going to figure out what happened. But he’s scared. Since the last time he crashed, and they had to do further surgery on his head, he hasn’t quite been able to shake that fear. It’s not like he didn’t know Dad would die someday, it just…It just shouldn’t be now.

Entering Harolds, he smelled hot bread, in the large box that sat like a pillar in the centre of the cafe. Lou stood behind the counter in his yellow apron. A gentleman of a certain age, Lou was probably old enough to be Andrew’s grandfather. He’d known Andrew’s grandfather and had been living on the street since before his untimely death. He was short, with white hair and the demeanour of someone who had been a so-called larrikin in his youth. Despite this, he had taken in Kate, Sophie and Harry when they needed him, and remained a sort of grandfatherly figure to anyone who needed him. He often spoke highly of Elle. 

“Hey.” He greeted, stepping up to the register. Lou nodded hello and said - 

“What can I get for you, Robinson?” 

“I was wondering if anyone from Lassiters had been around to get your security footage for the insurance claim.” He said, “Because it looks like it hasn’t gone through on our end.” 

“Oh?” 

“Well, we need to get the glass banister replaced. And pay for the cleanup of the courtyard. Don’t want anyone standing in glass.” 

“No, we don’t.” Lou pauses, “I don’t think anyone has been.” 

“Oh, well, I could do it. Maybe if it looks like I’m helping, it’ll get Declan off my back.” He adds, so he doesn’t sound too desperate. “And when Dad wakes up, less work for him to worry about. You know what he’s like. Never takes a break.” This seems to convince Lou, who nods his head and then allows him to access through the double doors to the back of the store. 

“Help yourself, sunshine.” He says, “I have no idea how the damn thing works.” And thank God you don’t, Andrew thought, sitting at the desktop computer and shaking the mouse to wake it up. 

A quick examination of the system showed him that the footage he wanted was only a few hours away from deletion so it’s good he was there when he was. The footage itself didn’t show him anything he didn’t already know. Blurry, low-quality images of Dad, falling, falling, then hitting the ground and cracking. He watched the footage three times over. Every time he keeps hoping that Dad’ll get up this time. But he doesn’t. Three times over Toadie and Karl make stupid faces as his father sails through the air and lands solidly on the paved ground of the Lassiter's forecourt. Glass falls around him, like fragments of snowflake, and he lays still, one of his arms twisted up all weird under him. The image is so terrible he can barely make anything out. Karl and Toadie run to Dad to help him, and then they’re followed by Rebecca who is followed by Declan, both coming from the direction of Lassiter’s. He doesn’t know what Elle will be looking for, but either way, he saved the video onto his external hard drive and tucked it away in his back pocket. For now, he thinks perhaps he should go back to the hospital, and if they won’t let him in at least he can look through the window like a goldfish at his father. Maybe he will just be able to sense that he’s there. 

“Has anyone ever told you about your aunt Julie?” Asks Lou, startling him. 

“No.” He says, letting out a breath. 

“She died in a way not too dissimilar to what happened to your old man.” Lou continues, “Fell from a top balcony. Apparently she was drunk, and just sailed over the railing.” 

“That’s awful.” He says because it is. Dad has rarely mentioned Aunt Julie to him, Lucy and Uncle Scott he spoke all the time. There are plenty of photographs of Lucy holding him as a baby, done up in her nineties finery with her bright lipstick and blonde hair. He’s seen the odd photograph of Julie but Dad doesn’t speak about her. Dad doesn’t like speaking about the dead full stop. Andrew has a dead brother that Dad has never even mentioned to him beyond answering his ‘who is this?’ question once, when he was looking for a good picture of Elle. He knew that she was a triplet, and he knew what happened to Robert Robinson. You’d be hard-pressed to find someone who didn’t know about him, but Cameron might as well have never existed for all their father has to say about him. Same for Julie. 

“Everyone thought her husband pushed her.” 

“Did he?” 

“Well, not according to his daughter.” Lou says, “Has someone spoken to Elle, by the way?”  Andrew paused, then said - 

“Yeah. Me.” 

…
That night, Andrew went home for dinner and felt weird about it. Rebecca seemed more on edge than usual, and Declan was barely playing with India. Eventually, he asked them the same question he asked Toadie. 

“What was Elle like?” Rebecca narrowed her eyes, 

“Why?” 

“I’m not allowed to be curious about my sister?” He asked back, bitingly. She sighed, spun her spoon on her plate then said - 

“She was a lot like her father.” Rebecca says, “Ambitious.” 

“Well-meaning.” Declan counters, “But hysterical.” None of this shines any light on who Elle Robinson is, but he supposes it’s better than nothing. If Donna was here, he’d ask her but imagines her reply would be ‘Oh, Elle’s so amazing and totally a hottie.’ which is no help either. 

“Ah-huh.” 

“You haven’t told her, have you?” Rebecca asks, “Because she’s so busy and -”

“I haven’t.” He lied, “I don’t even have her number, anyway. Or an email she reads.” Rebecca relaxes, and smiles at him, wearily. Like how Mum used to smile when her boyfriend would break up with her. He hasn’t spoken to Mum recently, she doesn’t seem like she wants him to call. When his cellphone rings, the caller id is a number he doesn’t know. Declan looks at him, one dark eyebrow raised. 

“Going to get that?” 

“Uh, yeah.” He says, “Nah. They can call back. We’re having a family dinner.” 

“Yeah, family.” Rebecca agrees, with that same smile. Andrew wonders if it was Elle. He’ll have to call back later. 

…

It’s not for another hour he can escape Rebecca’s ever-watchful eye and find a place to call his sister back. Being out and about after dark is not high on his list of enjoyable activities but needs must. Sitting on the rotunda at the lake, he hit redial, then held the phone to his ear. She picks up on the first ring. 

“Why didn’t you answer?” She demands, voice shrill and high pitched. 

“We were having family dinner.” He says, “Didn’t want to draw attention to myself.” 

“I’m in an airport in Jordan.” Elle says, “It’s going to take me twenty hours by air to get back to Melbourne.” 

“That’s a lot.” 

“What choice do I have?” 

“You could stay.” 

“And let you deal with this alone? No.” 

“I’m not alone. I have friends.” 

“I’m coming.” She says, putting an end to the discussion. “I’ll be there in about a day. How is Dad?” 

“They’re talking about removing a piece of his skull, so his brain can swell.” Andrew says, “Rebecca keeps asking, but they keep telling her they don’t know. He looks like a dead body.” 

“Have the police been investigating?” 

“It was all over the papers.” He says, “You didn’t know?” 

“I’m in the middle of a war zone reporting on dead children.” Elle deadpans, “I don’t exactly have time for the tabloid exploits of the suburb my father lives in.” 

“Oh.” 

“Have you spoken to the police?” 

“That detective, Brennan, he thinks it was me, or Declan.” He says, “Because me and Dad, we fought during the wedding.” 

“And you have a lawyer with you?” 

“I had Lucas.” 

“Lu-” She splutters, sounding shocked. “You need a lawyer.” 

“Toadie said -”

“Oh, no. No. I’ll call my lawyer, Samantha and she’ll be your lawyer too. Not. No Robinson is going to take charity from Toadie. I’ll bet he’s Rebecca’s lawyer, and Declan’s.” 

“Yeah.” 

“My lawyer is Samantha Fitzgerald. She’s ruthless, but she’s incredible at what she does. I’ll text you her number and if anyone, I mean anyone tries to talk to you again you tell them to call her.” She sounds exactly how she looks in every photo he’s ever seen of her. Stern. Like Dad, but a girl. 

“Sure.” 

“Andrew?” 

“Hm?” 

“Are you…Okay?” She asks, haltingly. “I know it’s not easy, seeing someone you love like that.” He doesn’t know how to reply. She seems too earnest, even though a moment earlier she was barking orders at him about lawyers and getting security footage of Dad nearly dying. Maybe that’s what Declan meant when he said she was neurotic. He decides to at least give her a truthful answer. 

“I’m…Okay.” He says, “When they find out who pushed Dad, I’ll feel a lot better.” 

“You and me both.” She said, “Do you know who has Dad’s medical power of attorney?” 

“Why would I know that?”

“Oh? You weren’t poking around Tim Collins to get a copy of the will?” She asks, digging a knife into him with her words. 

“I didn’t get anything.” He says, “And I wouldn’t -” 

“I know you didn’t.” She interrupts, “But you need to find that document. Talk to Karl, and tell him you think that either myself or possibly Aunty Lucy is Dad’s power of attorney.” 

“Why wouldn’t it be Rebecca?” 

“He changed a lot of things in 2007, after his brain tum - They just called my flight, okay, look, Andrew, I have to go. I’m going to be incommunicado for 20 hours. I’ll call you when I land.” 

“Sure. Hey, um, have a safe flight.” He adds before they say their goodbyes and hang up. He spends a while at the rotunda, mulling the day over, then goes home and off to bed. Rebecca and Declan are still up when he falls asleep. 
…

The following morning Andrew left the house at about eight. It’s about twelve hours into Elle’s flight, and there is no change in Dad when he goes to the hospital. He sat and stared in through the window for a while, but it doesn’t do any good. If he could just get in there, then maybe - Maybe what? He’ll magically wake up because his son is there? Yeah. Right. He had hospital coffee at nine, and at nine-thirty, Karl came by to check on Dad. The guards let him in without issue. 

Upon his exit, Andrew approaches him. 

“Dr Kennedy?” he asked, making the man pause and turn, 

“Andrew.” He says, “There’s no change in -”

“I wasn’t going to ask about that.” 

“What were you going to ask about?” 

“You’re Dad’s doctor, aren’t you?” 

“For now.” 

“Does the hospital have access to information, like who his medical power of attorney is?” Karl narrows his eyes at Andrew, assessing him. 

“Why do you ask?” 

“I’m not sure.” 

“You’re…Not sure?”

“Elle said I should ask. She thinks he changed it in 2007.” 

“You’re in contact with Elle?” 

“I mean, he’s her dad too.” He says, “Please don’t tell Rebecca.” Then, he lied - “Elle wants it to be a surprise.” Karl narrows his eyes even further but nods his head. 

“I’ll check.” 

“Thank you.” 

“I hope you know what you’re getting into, with her.” He warns, giving Andrew a weird sense of Deja Vu. 

… 

At twelve, he finally left the hospital, mainly because his phone was running out of power. He caught the bus from the hospital to Power Road, where he made his way into Carpenter Mechanics. There were two large cars parked outside, he doesn’t recognize either of them. Lucas Fitzgerald is leaning over a third car, which is inside. A fan is spinning back and forwards, blowing cool air and stopping the place from feeling as claustrophobic as it seems. When he sees Andrew approach, he stands and then looks at him while still holding a wrench. 

“Andrew.”  He greets, “Has something changed with Paul?” 

“No.” 

“Do you need me to come back to the station with you?” 

“No…I have a lawyer now.” 

“Toadie?” 

“No. Samantha Fitzgerald.” This makes Lucas’s eyes bug out like one of those squeeze toys for stress. 

“Sam? How’d -” 

“Can I ask you something personal?” 

“I guess.” He says, wiping his palms on his blue jumpsuit. 

“What is Elle like? For real.” There’s an extended pause, and Lucas spins the wrench around on the tip of his pointer finger while he considers. Andrew scuffs the toe of his sneaker on the oil-stained ground.

“Why are you asking me?” 

“You were engaged to her, weren’t you?” Lucas sighs, and after a deep breath, says - 

“Elle Robison is her father’s daughter.” 

“That doesn’t tell me anything.” He says, frustrated. 

“It’s everything you need to know. Just…Cut her some slack, ok? Her experiences with brothers haven’t…Well. Just give her a chance. She’ll be a good sister if you just give her some time.” When he leaves, he feels even more confused than when he knew nothing about her at all. 

…

He went home and put his phone on the charger after that. He made himself a sandwich he doesn’t taste for lunch and busied himself pretending to do homework. Michael had given him carte blanche to be away from school and while on any other day he might take this time to invest in some of his business ideas for now, he was much more interested in not drawing attention to himself. 

Toward the mid-afternoon, Rebecca came home from the bar, with Declan his usual half pace behind her and he pretended not to hear them. They spoke for a while in the kitchen, before Declan departed to collect India from childcare. Rebecca fussed in the kitchen for a while, before coming to find him in his room, where he was lying on his back, looking at the ceiling. 

“Are you doing okay?” She asks from the doorway. Andrew looked at her and nodded. 

“I’m okay.” He says, not elaborating. 

“You know we’re going to get through this.” She says, “As a family.”

“You keep saying so.” He grumbles, “But what kind of family are we if one member doesn’t even know there’s a problem?” 

“Elle.” 

“Maybe if she was here, it would help. Dad’s crazy about her.” 

“Maybe it would help. Maybe, and more likely, it would just take Elle away from her work and make everything worse.” She argued. “It’s good that you care so much Andrew but this just isn’t a situation your sister needs to be involved in.” 

“Yeah.” He says, “Whatever.” 

“We’re having spaghetti for dinner tonight if you’re interested.” 

“I’m probably going to eat at Summer’s, she’s going to help me with the homework I’m missing.” 

“That’s good.” She says and pats the front of his leg twice, “We’ll be okay.” Andrew has no idea how they possibly could be but doesn’t bother disagreeing with her. 

…

He does go over to Summer’s place. She’s nice but can tell he’s not really in the mood for English. 

“Okay.” She says, “What’s going on?” Summer Hoyland is his age, small, and with dark red or maybe red-brown hair cut into a blunt, sleek fringe that sits down almost in her eyes. Andrew is not unaware of the fact that their families have a lot of history between them - Not least of all that her dad killed his brother. It’s not a secret, but it’s not something people talk about, either. She also has a dead mum, and an absent father and older brother who seemed happy to dump her at boarding school until the cows came home. If he had to class her as something, he’d say ‘Cool chick, but kind of a nerd.’ 

“Nothing.” 

“Don’t lie to me, Andrew.” She warned. He took a deep breath, then asked the same question he feels like he’s asked every day for a month. 

“Did you know my sister Elle?” This gives Summer a pause, she looks slightly taken aback. 

“You might be better asking my Nan that.” 

“I’d rather hear it from you.” Summer chewed the question over, then said - 

“I’m glad she didn’t let my Dad go down for what happened to her…Your brother.” 

“That’s all?” 

“I was like ten, I didn’t have much to do with her.” He sighed, 

“Well, thanks anyway.” 

“Why?” 

“I told her what happened. She’s flying in tonight.” 

“She didn’t know already?” 

“Rebecca said not to tell her, and Donna and Ringo are on their honeymoon, and you know Declan just does -” 

“Yeah. So, she’s going to stay here or at the hotel?” 

“I don’t know. Hotel, I guess. Not a lot of space at our place these days.” 

“And you’re looking forward to seeing her?” 

“I guess. I don’t know. She says she’s going to help me find out what happened.” 

“Knowing her, even though it’s just a little, I would say she’s going to find out what happened and you’re going to be helping her.” 

“Whatever. Just as long as we figure out who did this to my Dad I don’t care.” His phone started to ring, and he answered it as fast as he could. 

“Hello?” 

“It’s Elle.” She says, instead of a greeting, "I’m just at the taxi rank of the airport to catch a taxi to Lassiters. Can you meet me and we can debrief or is it too late?” 

“I should be able to.” He says, Summer grabbed his arm and pointed to a note she’d written in the margins of Hamlet. It reads ‘Can Tash and I come?’ “Can I bring some people with me?”

“Who?” 

“My friends.” He hedges, 

“Yes, if you think they can be trusted. I’ll be staying at the penthouse, just ask them to buzz you up.” 

“Yeah, sure okay. I’ll get all the stuff.” He says, 

“See you soon.” Elle deadpans and then hangs up the phone. 

“We need to find Tash.” Summer says without pause, “I think the more hands we have on deck, the better.” And Andrew is not one to disagree. 

…

They arrived at the hotel at the same time that a large taxi is pulling into the rank. It took them that long to convince Michael that Tash should be allowed to come over to Summer’s to study and then to convince Lyn that they should be allowed to pop down to Harold’s for dessert. Summer seems uncomfortable with the subterfuge, but Tash is loving it. 

The first time Andrew sees her, she’s lifting a red suitcase from the back of the taxi and setting it on the gold trolleys that the bell boys use to ferry it from place to place. When she turns to face him, Andrew feels kind of like he’s known her for his entire life, even if it’s only been a couple of days. She has a tight face, with large green eyes and perhaps the longest hair he’d ever seen outside of a fairytale. Elle looks sad but she rushes over to greet him with a hug, and stands only to his chest making her significantly shorter than him, and also Dad. People, generally speaking, do not hug him. So he’s a bit surprised, so much so he doesn’t even pull away. 

“How are you?” She asks, against his chest. It’s a far cry from the clipped orders she was giving him on the phone so he chalks it up to her being tired, and worried about their father. 

“I’m okay.” He says, which is the truth. Awkwardly, he hugs her back. She smells like she doused herself in perfume before arriving, and it makes his nose tickle. She pulls back and looked up at him, reaching one hand to brush his fringe with one hand. The product used to keep it stiff doesn’t allow much movement. 

“Are you okay?” He asked. 

“Tired. Sad. Worried.” She summed, “How’s Dad?” 

“Alive.” 

“I suppose that’s the best we can ask for.” 

“I asked Karl to check who his medical power of attorney is, but I haven’t heard anything.” 

“Thank you.” She said, “Are you going to introduce me to your friends?” She asked, pulling away and for a second, he wishes she wouldn’t have. 

“Oh, yeah. This is Ta-” 

“Tash Williams.” She said, “Andrew’s ex-girlfriend.” Which is, he supposes, true enough. Tash is pretty, with shoulder-length blonde hair and electric blue eyes. He doesn’t know how else to describe her. Is he in love with her? Sometimes he wonders the same thing. 

“I hear you’ve been taking care of my cat,” Elle says,

“She’s a good girl,” Tash says, seeming a little thrown by the response. Andrew has been around Robinsons' long enough to know Elle did that on purpose. 

“And I think we may have met before.” Summer looks at her with a slightly tilted head, as if she’s assessing her. 

“Yeah. Summer Hoyland.” 

“Elle Robinson.” 

“I just want to say, you know, I’m sorry about what happened to your brother.” 

“Don’t apologize for something your father did.“ Elle says, sternly, “Come on, I’ve got the penthouse booked. We can debrief up there and figure out our next steps.” 

“You don’t want to go see Dad?” Andrew asked, frowning. He hoped against hope that simply being in the presence of his favourite child would be enough to wake Dad. 

“Visiting hours are closed.” She says, “I’ll go first thing tomorrow. But first, we need to get ahead of Rebecca and Declan.” Summer and Tash share a look, and the four of them head for the elevators, and Elle uses a keycard to take them up to the oversized penthouse at Lassiter's. 

Inside, it’s clean and tidy, but heinously out of date. Andrew had never been to the penthouse before, just never had a reason to. A large chandelier hung above a wooden table, and after abandoning her handbag at the door, Elle sat at it. He, Summer and Tash sat across from her, wide-eyed and a bit tired from the day. His sister had laid a notepad on the table in front of her and was clicking a fancy-looking pen. 

“What the hell happened?” 

“Paul fell off the roof at the Lassiters Mezzanine.” Summer says, “They don’t know who, or why just that he was. The suspects are Andrew, Declan, and Diana Marshall.” She wrote that down in shorthand almost identical to their fathers. “Nan found one of Diana’s earrings at the accident site. Declan and Rebecca were there within moments of the accident. Andrew wasn’t, neither was Diana. “

“Okay, what do we know?” 

“Well, we know that Toadie and Karl found him.” Andrew says, “And he had Declan’s blood on his suit jacket. Declan says it came from his cut hand. Kate gave an alibi for Rebecca that has to be crap because she was right there when it happened. Declan doesn’t have an alibi, and neither do I, or Diana Marshall. Declan is the general manager at Lassiter's. Dad and Diana Marshall were having an affair. It was in the paper. It’s probably better you hear it from me.” Elle went white as a ghost, and paused her writing, frowning and looking down with a scowl. Then - 

“Rebecca knew?” 

“Yeah.” She sighed and suddenly looked very, very young. 

“It’s late. You three should head home. I need to unpack, and get some rest.” 

“That was quick.” 

“I...I need to clear my head.” 

“He’s done it before, hasn’t he?” Andrew demanded, “Cheated on her.” 

“Andrew…” 

“Don’t lie to me, please!” 

“Yes, he did. Stupid man that he is.”  There was an immense silence. “What’s her alibi?” She asked, after a moment. Andrew shrugged his shoulders. 

“Kate said she was with her.” Elle closed her eyes and covered her face. 

“It’s late. You three should be in bed.”  She stood and called an elevator for them. Before he left, Elle stopped him. “Andrew…” 

“Hm?” 

“Who has custody of you, right now?” 

“Dad.” 

“Does he have an official statement with your mother?” 

“Not that I know of.” 

“How…How would you feel, about me being your legal guardian? At least until all this blows over.” 

“Why are you offering?” She sighed and then shrugged her shoulders. 

“If something happens, god forbid, to Dad, the last thing we need is some kind of custody dispute. If you’re with me, we eliminate the possibility.” 

“Can I move here, to the penthouse?” 

“If you’d like.” 

“I’ll think about it.” And he does think about it, all the way back to Ramsay street, and all the way into his bed. 

…

That night, Andrew had a dream that Dad woke up, but he had no face. 

… 

The following morning, Andrew was awoken by a text message. It read - 

This is Elle. Going to hospital first thing. Meet you there?

To which he replied

ok I’ll ride in with rebecca. 

He slept for another hour before going down for breakfast. Rebecca was drinking tea, and Declan was attempting to feed India, who is mostly throwing cereal onto the floor. It’s a domestic scene, and it makes Andrew not want to have kids. For breakfast, he made a piece of toast he didn’t want, before he showered and dressed for the day. They set off for the hospital at around half past eight, he brought his canvas cross body with him, so he had room to bring the hard drive holding the footage from Harolds. He dropped Elle a text. 

on my way there. 

They pulled into a parking space, and Declan offered to fill the meter while they went inside. Rebecca agreed, and Andrew stayed a step behind her as they traversed the hospital to the ICU. The window in Dad’s room is closed, and there is a cart outside so there must be nurses in there doing something. Before Andrew can voice that Rebecca gasped. Looking up, he saw Elle deep in conversation with Karl, holding a comically large cup of coffee with deep circles under both of her eyes. 
 
“Elle?” She asked, shocked to see her. 

“Rebecca,” Elle said, now she’s frowning. 

“Who - How - Why -” 

“Andrew called me.” She said, “Someone in this family thinks I deserve to know when my father is injured.” 

“I just didn’t want to -” 

“Bother me. Right. Well, see, he’s my dad. You’re not bothering me.” She said, sighing, and then taking a giant swig of her coffee. “Have you called any of the rest of the family?” 

“No,” Rebecca said, looking appropriately contrite.

“Well, Andrew and I can do that. I’m sure Aunty Lucy is dying to hear from us.” She says, “But I’d like to go in and see Dad first.” 

“You won’t be able to.” Karl explains, “There’s a guard at the door, they don’t want whoever started this to come back and finish the job.” 

“Uh-huh. I didn’t do it, though.” 

“I’m sorry Elle. Rules are rules, you’ll have to take it up with the police.” She frowned again and took another drink of her coffee. She looks both tired and sad. 

“I guess I’ll go…Look at him.” She says, solemnly. Karl touched her upper arm in support. 

“Thank you for delivering these.” He said, “Someone at the hospital will let your uncle know what’s happening.” 

“What uncle?” He asked, looking at her. 

“Uncle Scott, Dad’s brother. He’s his power of attorney as of his living will.” 

“I thought being his wife made me his power of attorney.” 

“It doesn’t.” She said flatly, then pushed past the both of them to the window.

 Andrew found himself trailing a step behind her as she stood and gazed into the window. The blinds had been opened, and revealed…A hospital room. A private one, of course. Only the best for Paul Robinson. The big man himself was lying on his back, totally still. His neck was supported by a hard plastic brace, and there was a tube connected to his mouth making sure he didn’t stop breathing. The right side of his face starting at his temple and ending at the bridge of his nose was sliced up like it’d been cheese grated, and his casted right arm sat upon a pillow. Andrew has seen it all before. Every day since the incident. Elle surprises him by taking hold of his hand in both of hers and bringing it to her chest in silence. He doesn’t know how he feels about that, or how he feels about Elle being so shocked that she requires an additional hand to hold. They stood in silence, and Rebecca at least has the decency to give them some space. They stood for a long time, Andrew gets lost in his thoughts.

He can’t help but keep thinking back to the last time he saw Dad. Standing up on that balcony. Drinking his whiskey, looking at his empire. 

“We don’t need her,” Elle said, so quietly Andrew almost missed it. “We’re Robinsons.” 

“We’re blood.” He agreed. 

“We can get through this. We just…We just have to stick together. You and me. Team Robinson.” 

“Team Robinson.” He agreed as Elle put her chin on their joined hands. 

…

Team Robinson was quick to be split apart when Brennan showed up and asked Elle if she’d agree to a sit-down interview. Even though she resisted at first, even threatening to lawyer up, she agreed – On the condition that Dad’s leg would be returned to them if she did so. Brennan seemed a little confused at the request but agreed that Dad would need it when he woke up, and as far as evidence went there was none on it. While she did that, Andrew remained in the hospital. For a while, he played on his phone but eventually, the battery died. Rebecca sat with him for a while, before asking -

“Why did you call Elle, after I told you not to?” He turned to look at her. She was an attractive forty-something with shoulder-length brown hair and greenish eyes. She seemed to care about him, but sometimes she felt like a puzzle box he couldn’t get the middle of. He thinks life would be easier without her if it was just him and Dad. 

“Because she’s his daughter and she deserves to know.” He replied, which is a half-truth. 

“I told you not to.” 

“So?” 

“Andrew - “

“You’re not my family, Rebecca.” He said, “She is. Dad is. You’re my Dad’s wife.” He knew it would cut her deeply, he knew it would hurt her and he said it anyway. Because he’s a Robinson and that’s how they are. Or, maybe it has nothing to do with his last name. Maybe he’s just a mean person. She looked at him, shook her head and then got to her feet before leaving. To work, he assumed but it could have been anywhere. 

…

He decided to go meet Elle at the police station but ended up sitting in a chair in the waiting room for what felt like a lifetime without his phone. He needed to get the battery changed on that thing. The police station was quiet and when the officer at the desk asked him what he was doing he told the truth. He was waiting for his sister. His eyes wander the walls, he reads a poster about emotional abuse and then sees pictures of what happens when you drive drunk. He was bored to tears but also didn’t want to go to school or go anywhere else actually. He feels like his skin is too tight.  Eventually, the door opened, and Elle exited, now with Dad’s leg tucked underneath one of her arms. Andrew had never seen Dad’s leg disconnected from Dad before. It’s made of hard plastic, with a stocking over it. Flesh-toned, ending in a black sock, and a black shoe. It’s not that Andrew didn’t know his father was disabled, of course he did. You could see it when he walked but it’s just that it had never been…Real. Dad had never seemed disabled, he never talked about it, and it never even seemed to inconvenience him. He’d never even seen the prosthetic, just…Knew it existed. He wondered off-handedly if Dad was hiding it from him for some reason. Either way, it looks pretty silly in Elle’s arms. Small, out of place. He stood and approached. 

“Detective, just so you know I won’t be answering any more questions about Robert. If you want to know about him, you can speak to him yourself.” She’s saying. Andrew comes to a stop by her side, and even though he towers over her he still feels short in her presence. Mark Brennan is a young detective with short-cropped brown hair and brown eyes. Andrew can’t tell if he’s more competent than anyone, or the most incompetent cop he’d ever met. So far, his investigation seemed to be little more than weighing up who had the best reason to want Dad dead. 

“Okay.” Brennan agrees, eyeing Andrew up and down. Elle produces a card from the pocket of her pants and holds it out in her hand. He takes it from her, their fingers touch very slightly. Her hands are so small and bird-boned. 

“This is my lawyer’s number, she’ll be representing both myself and Andrew. From now on if you have any questions for him, you can ask her first.” 

“You’re lawyering up?” 

“Wouldn’t you? Andrew, let’s head out. We have to start making calls to the rest of the family.” He doesn't respond verbally, but he does follow her out into the courtyard. It’s a bright, cheerful day. The sun is shining and the sky is electric blue. The air is crisp, and Elle is not wearing a jacket. It’s less than one hundred meters from where they are to the Lassiter's foyer. The walk is on pavement and the hotel interior looks…Cheap. The elevator opened and then closed behind them when they entered. 

After she tapped her keycard on the panel, they went up. It’s not a long trip, but it is quiet. He speaks - 

“Who’s Robert?” 

“He’s our brother.” She answered, after a deep sigh. 

“The one in jail.” 

“Yes.” 

“Why is he in jail?” He asked the elevator brought them out onto the level of the penthouse, and Elle lets them in through the door again. The room looks much like it had the night before, except for now Elle’s paperwork is spread on the oversized dining table. 

“It’s a really long story.” 

“I have time.” 

“I suppose you’ll find out eventually. If not from me then from the news. He killed Harold Bishop’s family in a plane crash.” 

“The same Harold the cafe is named after? Why would he do that?” 

“Because he was trying to kill Dad, and me.” They lapse into quiet. Andrew fiddles with the edge of his shirt, and Elle looks…Sad. She rubs her eyes and then looks at him. 

“I heard about that, in the news. The plane that crashed. I-I didn’t know our brother did it.” 

“I can’t imagine why you would.” She said, sighing deeper before sitting up straight. “It was terrible, but it was a really long time ago. Come on, we need to make a start on some of these calls.” 

Andrew ended up calling Lucy, an aunt who is extremely emotional when she answers the phone. It’s weird to think that people out there he’s never met have just been waiting for him to phone. Lucy is so happy to hear from him that she promises to write him emails with her number in it, and to come visit, and then asks him for his mother’s number and how she is. She’s so happy to hear from him, and no one has ever been happy to hear from him before.  Then, he calls Charlene Robinson, who confirms that Scott has boarded a plane and will be here soon. She asks him not to be a stranger. Sometimes Andrew can only feel that he’s a stranger even in his own life. He promises to call more. 

Elle, meanwhile has called her mother and following that, Andrew’s mother. Even with one side of the conversation, it’s weird to listen to his future being discussed over the line. 

“I understand that Andrew can’t come and live with you at this time, I do, but if Dad doesn’t make it that’s what’s going to happen, so it would be in your best interests to come up with a formal custody arrangement -” He picked up one of Elle’s pieces of paper and finds a half-written page of notes about…Well, he isn’t sure. Dad never got around to teaching him shorthand. He lay that one down, and then got up to walk around while Elle continued arguing with his mother. 

In her bedroom, a red suitcase sits on the ottoman at the end of the bed. On the bed is a pair of pajamas, with a pink robe on top. There’s nothing else to see there, other than that she reads novels by someone called Patricia Cornwell. He went into the kitchen and found the fridge to be barren, so made himself a glass of water. He thought about Dad lying in the hospital and the foul yellow colour of his bruises. He’s been trying to think less about it but it’s the only thing that he sees when he closes his eyes. He tried to think about something more positive, like…Like…Nothing comes to mind. After finishing his water he returned to the living room dejected and sat on the couch in front of the large television. In the penthouse, he imagines that he’s probably going to get at least basic cable and idly ponders if he’d get caught if he tried to watch a dirty movie in here. 

God, how pathetic is his as Declan called it, little crusade if this is what he’s thinking about?

He returned to the living space, where Elle had set her iPhone down on the table and is looking thoughtfully at Dad’s leg. He walked to stand by her. She looked up at him with a weary expression. She looks tired. Jetlag, maybe? 

“Do you have the footage from Harolds?” He nodded his head and then placed the black rectangle on the table, and the USB connector cable. 

“Thank you. I hope Lou didn’t give you any trouble.” 

“No, no. He was very helpful.” He said and sat by her. As she opened her silver Macbook, he noticed her wallpaper was a photograph of Dad dressed as a Christmas elf. After plugging the device in, he directed her to the video file and they watched it play out. Toadie and Karl leave the cafe, they walk towards the middle of the pathway, and then Dad soars through the sky like a puppet without strings and crashes onto the ground in front of them in a hail of glass fragments. It happens so fast. The video continues past where Andrew stopped watching. Rebecca and Declan come from the direction of Lassiters. There is no sign of him or Diana. A dribble of dark blood runs from Dad’s nose to under his head. Elle snaps the video window back to the taskbar and then looks up at the ceiling for a moment. 

“Not a good video.” She says, finally, “I thought there would be more here.” 

“Sorry.” 

“Don’t be. You didn’t do it.” This gives Andrew a pause. 

“What makes you so sure?” 

“Why would you have called me, if you did it?” 

“Maybe I’m trying to look innocent.” She rolled her eyes in reply. “Did you and my Mum figure something out?” He asked, finally. 

“I just asked her to make sure she had something in place for you.” 

“What did she say?” 

“She said I could do it if I want.” 

“And what did you say?” 

“I said send it to me, and then I’ll talk it over with Andrew.” 

“Can I live here with you, if you’re my guardian?” 

“If you’d like.” She says, frowning, “You don’t like living with Rebecca?” 

“They hate me.” He deadpanned because he knew it was true. They’d never wanted him. Dad had a perfectly good fully formed family before he came along and ruined it all. Declan was right – It was all his fault for giving Diana the documents in the first place. If he could be here with Elle, who didn’t hate him then it was a benefit to him. And, well there was always the room service. 

“I’m sure they don’t.” 

“No, they do. I’d rather…I’d rather be with my family.” This makes her face soften from her tight almost frown into something he’d almost say was warm and affectionate. 

“It’s been a long time since I had cause to be a sister.” She warned him, and he shrugged, 

“You can’t be worse of a sister than I am a brother. I almost took Declan out the other day, outside the hospital.” 

“What happened?” She asked, stunned. 

“He said some things about Dad I didn’t agree with.” He said, “And I took it out on him.” She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment before opening them. 

“Let’s go get some lunch.” 

…

After some debate on which would be the lesser of two evils, they settled on Harolds for lunch. Stepping inside, Lyn is manning the counter. She looks shocked to see them, or perhaps shocked to see Elle.

“E - Elle!” She exclaims, “I had no idea you were back!” Okay. That answered it. 

“Well, you know. My dad is in a coma.” She says as Lyn welcomes them both over. She’s a woman probably in her forties or maybe fifties with short, styled brown hair that is spiky. She wears a lot of red, and is, he supposes, quite motherly. She’s short, but not as short as Elle. She smells like perfume. 

“Yes. Terrible business that.” Lyn agrees, “Has Rebecca seen you? Lucas?” 

“Rebecca yes, Lucas no.” Elle is making an effort to be friendly, “I only got in last night.” 

“Oh, you must be tired, let me make you a coffee.” Lyn declares. Andrew wonders what their relationship is. It seems weirdly tense in here. 

“Can we order sandwiches as well?” She asks, finally making it to the counter. 

“Oh, of course,” Lyn says, nodding her head. She’s been weird since the Steph thing with the baby happened. 

“Thanks.” Elle says, “We’ll be sitting outside, can I pay with a card?” After doing so, and armed with a table number they exited the oppressive atmosphere of Harolds and found a table to sit at. The sky is grey now, despite its cheerful colour that morning. They sat quietly for a moment, taking in the scenery. Andrew is glad to not be in school. 

“Are we going to start our real investigation now?” He asked as Elle settled Dad’s prosthetic leg on the seat next to her like it was going to be having lunch with them. 

“Investigation, huh?” She wondered aloud,

“Yes. Investigation. Investigate what happened to Dad.” 

“Who do you think did it?”

“Diana Marshall, or Sonya Mitchell.” He answered promptly. “Tash did the numbers, she thinks Sonya’s good for it.” 

“Sonya Mitchell? Toadie’s girlfriend?” 

“Yeah, her.” 

“It wasn’t her.” Elle deadpanned, “No, this was personal.” 

“Dad outed Steph’s baby lie.” He explained, “She was mad as…As...She was mad.” 

“Okay Tintin, how does she get up onto the mezzanine?” 

“Who’s Tintin?” He asked, puzzled. 

“Dad’s never made you watch a Tintin movie?” 

“No?” 

“Lucky you. Go on then, how does she get up on the Mezzanine when it’s closed? She doesn’t have a keycard, wasn’t on any security footage, and…No one reports seeing her there?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“If the person that pushed Dad was someone who wasn’t meant to be at Lassiters at that time, or someone unfamiliar to the Lassiters staff don’t you think that they would have said something?” He deflates. His best lead is gone. 

“You’re right.” He sighs, as Lyn emerges with sandwiches and two cups of coffee. She settles them on the table and gives Andrew a warm smile before turning to Elle. 

“Are you going to be in town for long?” 

“As long as I have to be.” Elle answers, “At least until Dad wakes up. Longer, probably.” 

“It’s good that you came.” Lyn tells her, “I’m sure Rebecca could use another friendly face.” Elle just sighed into her coffee and took a long swing in place of a reply. “ And, spending some time with your brother is a good thing. I know Paul always wanted his kids together.” 

“Well, I guess we’ll never have that.” Elle says, “But two out of five ain’t bad.” 

“Ain’t bad indeed.” Lyn agrees, before returning inside the store. Andrew started eating his ham and salad sandwich. It tastes bland, but it’s edible. 

“Where do we go from here?” He asked, around his food. Elle took a long drag from her coffee and thought about it, staring up at the sky while she did so. 

“I think we should focus on getting the mezzanine camera footage.” She said, “And establishing alibis for Declan and Rebecca, plus we need to find the card logs for the elevator, and the camera in there as well.” 

“Seems like you’ve got it all figured out.” 

“Only partially. I say today we hit up Lassiters and see what we can get.” 

“Okay bu -” Elle went white as a sheet. 

“Oh no, Andrew hide me it’s - “ 

“Elle!” 

“Lucas.” She said, as he approached them and stopped by their table beaming widely. He seems happy to see them which is more than most people in this town feel for them. 

“I didn’t know you were back.” He says, helping himself to a seat at the table. “You here for Paul?” 

“Andrew.” She said, deadpan again. “The only person in this whole suburb who seemed to think I deserved to know my father might be dying.” Lucas at least has the decency to look ashamed. 

“I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me.” He admitted, “Since we…Broke up.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t have.” She says and focuses on her coffee again. The bags under her eyes are starting to look closer to bruises rather than simply a couple of nights of bad sleep. He wonders if she slept on the plane at all coming over, “And I don’t want to talk to you now, either.” 

“Gee, thanks,” Lucas said, sarcastically. 

“I want to talk to you, Lucas,” Andrew said, with a sort of snark in his tone he doesn’t quite recognize. 

“And what would you like to talk about, Andrew?” Lucas Fitzgerald is average height with scraggly brown hair, a five o’clock shadow and well. A nose. A prominent nose. He’s not unattractive, in Andrew’s decidedly heterosexual opinion but he thinks Elle can do better. There’s nothing wrong with Lucas. He likes Lucas. But he doesn’t see this man and the sister he’s just getting to know having a happy and peaceful marriage. 

“Where were you on the night my Dad was pushed?” 

“You’re still carrying on this little investigation?” Lucas asked, frowning. 

“No. I just think Elle might like to know that -” 

“Home.” He said, quickly. “I was home. Alone. Well not quite alone. Kate was there. Doing nothing.” 

“Home?” Elle asked, “Why weren’t you at the wedding?” 

“Libby put cake on his shirt,” Andrew said, smirking at Lucas, who is quickly travelling between shades of red and purple. 

“Is nothing’s name Libby Kenndy?” Elle asks, cold as ice. Lucas stutters. Andrew wonders what exactly is happening in the subtext here that he’s not getting. He’d assumed that there would be light ribbing between exes. Like him and Tash. Not…Whatever is going on with the vein in Luas’s forehead that is about to explode. 

“You dumped me,” Lucas says, between stutters. 

“You can do nothing with whoever you like, Lucas. We’re not together anymore, and we never will be again.” And then, she took a long swig of her coffee, which was now empty. She hasn’t touched her sandwich. “See you around, Lucas.” She says, standing up and grabbing Dad’s leg. “Come on Andrew.” He does as told. 

They crossed the walkway again to Lassiters and entered the elevator. This time, Elle taps a blank card against the sensor and takes them to floor five. It’s been a while since Andrew worked here but he still knew where security was. The office itself was at the end of a long hallway, lined with the cheaper rooms the hotel has to offer. Elle taps them in with her card. He notices that she’s using another card now, this one is blank. 

“What’s with the card?” 

“It’s a new one, Rosemary set it up for me. Or, had someone set it up for me. It’s not in my name just in case anyone gets a bit of a sticky beak.” 

“Ah, why?” 

“Officially? I’m assisting Lassiters in Dad’s absence as a previous general manager and my expertise is appreciated.” 

“Unofficially?” 

“I’m investigating on her behalf.” 

“You’re popular.” 

“Only with family.” She says as the man behind the counter looked up at them. He was middle-aged with greying hair and a dark complexion. “Hi, Gary.” She greeted him, and he nodded at her. 

“Robinson.” He greeted her with a familiarity that Andrew doesn’t have with her.

“Do you have footage from the night my dad was pushed?” She asked, casually. Gary tilted his head while looking at her. 

“Why?” 

“Because I’d like to see it?” 

“I gave it to Mr Napier for the insurance claim.” He says, “But I can show you the version I have?” 

“That would be great.” Elle beams. Andrew wonders how long Gary has worked here for, watching the cameras at Lassiter's the way that he does. Can’t possibly be a very interesting job. “Do you think you could also get us a list of people who used their keycard to check into the lift around the time of the incident with my Dad?” 

“I can try.” He assured her, before squinting at his monitor and pulling up a video program that Andrew doesn’t recognize. Not that he has any specific knowledge of video editing – But it leaves a sour feeling in his stomach when he thinks of the way Dad doctored the footage of Declan to blackmail him. It’s not like he’d had the illusion that Dad was a good guy. He knew he wasn’t. Dad was…It’s hard to describe how Dad was. Sometimes, he could make you feel like the only person in the room. Most of the time it feels like he wishes Andrew wouldn’t have come to live here at all. It’s not like he doesn’t love his father he does, and he knows Dad loves him…He’d rather just love him from a distance where his son isn’t interfering in his new family and their lives together.  He wonders if that’s how it was for Elle. The golden girl. The prodigal Robinson. It’s not her fault - He’s sure before two days ago she’d never thought about him for longer than a few seconds but the comparisons between them are everywhere. Elle was some kind of business savant and could be what Dad wanted from a child. Ran her own business, two of them! And balanced that with being the editor of the paper. What did Andrew have under his belt? A dance party where he needed to be bailed out? A party where his stepmother called the cops on him? Sending an email that cost the business thousands of dollars during the biggest event of the year? Watching Elle work, having had her brought them here…He’d never have come up with this on his own. He’d still be wondering around like a headless chicken, trying to uncover information in places where it was starting to become clear there was no information to be found. She was right. His best lead was garbage. His phone buzzed. He found that it was a message from Rebecca. 

‘Will you be home for dinner tonight?’ 

“Elle?” He asked, drawing her attention away from the screen and onto him. She looks at him with those sharp green eyes. “Will we be home for dinner?” 

“At Dad’s?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I think I’m just going to grab room service and go to sleep. You probably should go home for the night.” 

“Do I have to?” 

“Where do you propose you’ll be otherwise?” 

“With you.” 

“You’d rather spend time with your boring sister than go home?” She asked, disbelieving.

“You don’t hate me.” 

“No, I don’t.” She said, after a curious pause, “We can stop at Ramsay Street and get some of your things, and some dinner. Maybe.” 

“Thanks.” He said, earnestly. Before he can press on Gary exclaims - 

“Huh!” 

“What’s huh?” Elle asked, pushing up into his personal space so she can see the screen. 

“The footage is gone.” 

“Gone?” 

“As in deleted. The whole day.” Andrew felt lightheaded and looked for a seat to take. 

“Deleted? Well…Undelete it!” 

“I would if I could, but it’s gone. For good.” 

“Well, what if I hired some kind of - of forensic videographer?” 

“You could do that if you wanted, but it won’t do you any good. It’s gone. I’ve worked with this program for years. It’s gone.” 

“Well -” Elle blubbered and then put her face in her hands. “Do you have any other footage from the time?” 

“The car parks, the front camera too.” He said and then pulled it up for Elle to see. “This is about two minutes before the incident.” The camera shows Rebecca pulling up in her car. On the camera, her green dress looks grey. She strides with purpose into the building and goes out of frame. In the same video, he watches a woman come out of the building, and Declan also enters. He doesn’t see himself, or Diana. Meaning it wasn’t her. Elle frowned - 

“Wasn’t she meant to be with Kate?” 

“That’s what she told me.” 

“She?” 

“Kate.” 

“I’ve never known Kate to be a liar before.” Elle mused, using one hand to rub her face. Andrew watches the clip. Rebecca and Declan run from the hotel toward where Dad’s body would be. It doesn’t tell them anything other than what they already knew. Rebecca and Declan were at the scene of the crime. So was Diana’s henchman, and him, and Toadie and Karl. But no Sonya. So she was probably also off the hook. 

“What about the keycard logs?”  He found himself asking. 

“Looks like we don’t have anything after about ten pm,” Gary said, showing her the screen. Andrew stood and walked over so he could lean into the already cramped space. Nothing after ten pm. No way to see who tapped their card just before Dad…Was pushed. 

“No, no no!” Elle exclaimed, pacing back and forwards across the small room, “No, this was my best lead! My only lead, it can’t be nothing it can’t be -” 

“I don’t think it’s quite nothing,” Andrew says, making Elle stop. 

“How? How can you possibly ascertain anything from this? It’s exactly what we already knew. It could have been Declan, or Rebecca or any other person in the hotel who wanted Dad dead!”  

“Well, we don’t have anything from ten pm but we do have Janet Teller, who left at nine fifty-nine. She might still be here, and she might have seen something -” 

“Gary we have to go, thank you for your help!” Elle said as she hurried out of the room, Andrew following half a step behind her as they rode the elevator down to the first floor with Elle checking her watch and fidgeting in a way that doesn’t seem natural. Once the door opened, she strode out toward the desk. 

“Mitchell!” She announces the awkward-looking redhead behind the counter, “Janet Teller in room 405, did you see her?” 

“Sure, she wanted a recommendation for a cafe.” He said, “Why?” 

“Is she still here?” Elle prompted. Mitchell pulled up something on the desktop while Elle repeatedly drummed her fingers on the glass countertop. 

“No. She checked out at lunchtime yesterday.” 

“Can you call her? Tell her she - she left something here?” 

“I could try, but she didn’t leave a phone number.” 

“Who doesn’t leave a phone number?” Elle ranted, “In 2010, who doesn’t leave a phone number?” 

“Thanks, Mitchell,” Andrew said, and took his sister by the arm, leading her to one of the seats in the lobby. 

“No phone number….” She mumbled, shaking her head in disappointment. Andrew didn’t know what to say, so he just sat next to her in silence. He’s not good at comforting anyone, so he just did to Elle what she’d done to him and took her hand in hers. It didn’t seem to help. 

…

They ended up going to family dinner. It was a tense meal where they spoke very little. At the end, Elle stood, and turned to him - 

“Do you want to pack a bag?” She asked, and he nodded his head in agreement. 

“A bag?” Rebecca asked. “Where is he going?” 

“To stay with me,” Elle says as Andrew goes up the stairs. He doesn’t bother listening in on the conversation as he dumped his bag on his bed. He opened draw after draw to grab its contents and stuff them inside. A few clean outfits, one school uniform, socks and undies, his computer, his phone charger and his hair products. 

Declan stood in the doorframe and glowered at him in the way that he did. He didn’t give him a reaction. 

“You’re leaving.” 

“Yep.” 

“Really.” 

“Yep.” 

“To be with Elle.” 

“Yep.” He frowned deeper, somehow. He does that sometimes. He doesn’t know what happened to Declan. He used to be okay, but these days it feels like he’s perpetually unhappy about something, even beyond the situation with Dad and the murder attempt. Cheating on Kate, his weird relationship with his mother, his dead wife…It’s weird. Declan is weird. It’s like he’s someone else entirely. 

“And you think it will change something?” 

“I think I’d like to live somewhere that I’m wanted.” He says. 

“You think she wants you?” 

“Of course she does.” He blusters. 

“Andrew, she’s using you. Elle’s…She’s the queen of manipulating people. She’s just using you to get digs in at my Mum for not calling her. Surely you can see that?” 

“Yeah. Right.” 

“I’ve known Elle a lot longer than you. She’s not who she seems.” 

“I have to go.” He said, putting his bag over his shoulder and heading downstairs where Elle and Rebecca are still arguing. He doesn’t care. 

“I’m going to wait in the car.” He said, passing the pair and going to the car. 

“I’m not trying to break up your family. I’m just trying to do what’s best for Andrew, and I think he and Declan need some time apart. It’s only for a while. Until Dad wakes up.” She says as she follows a step behind him to the car. They drove back to Lassiters in silence, and when they arrived she spent a long time sitting behind the wheel of her rented Pontiac staring at nothing before telling him she was going to bed. 

…

Elle’s a liar. 

When Andrew went to the kitchen to get a drink, he noticed the door to her room in the penthouse (which has five rooms in total) was open, and she wasn’t inside. Dad’s leg was gone too. He got his water, then noticed a note on the bench, telling him she’d gone to the hospital to meet with Uncle Scott. She calls him that. Uncle Scott. Andrew’s never met him. It was like Dad wanted to keep him separate from their life. 

Scott Robinson is taller than Dad but shorter than Andrew himself. His blonde hair is cut into a kind of nineties-style fringe, and he has a high forehead, a bit like Elle. He looks like he smiles a lot, but he’s frowning now. He paces backwards and forwards across the floor repetitively, and he’s not talking to Elle, who is seated on the row of chairs that face into the room Dad is in. She is wearing a pair of low-rise jeans and the T-shirt she’d gone to bed in. Unlike daytime Elle, who always looks like she’s on her way to a job interview; this Elle has greasy hair and doesn’t care about her appearance. He sat next to her because he didn’t know where else to sit. She’s holding Dad’s leg between her knees and looking at him through the window. Andrew placed his own hands between his knees and looked in at Dad. No change since the last time he was here. Elle is quiet for a while, the noise of the hospital is louder at night. It’s like he can hear every beeping machine and every sensible shoe tap tap tapping on the linoleum floors. Scuffing the edge of his shoe on the floor there’s little to do other than think. About Dad, about Declan, and about Rebecca. Scott is paying little attention to them. He looks tired too. He used to have this idea about the kind of person his dad was. When he was a little kid living in Brazil he remembered thinking Dad was larger than life. He always made time to play with him, carry him around on his back and read to him in English when almost everything else he heard was in Portuguese. But then he was gone. That’s what it felt like. One moment he had a dad, and then the next day he didn’t. He went to jail. He left Mum high and dry in a foreign country with only the money they had in their bank account to get by. They had no choice but to leave. They went to Italy to stay with Aunty Caroline. Then Scotland to be with one of Mum’s boyfriends and that lasted for a bit before she decided to come back to Australia to be closer to her family.  By then, he had a whole different idea about who his father was and it wasn’t pretty. The Dad he had loved was dead. He understood that now. 

It’s not like he came to Erinsborough expecting the world, but it felt like that first lie (albeit, kind of a big one) had coloured Dad’s perspective of him forever. Maybe he deserved that. Isn’t that what Robert did? Lied to him?  He’s a screw-up. He’s not Paul Jr. He’s barely a Robinson. It’s not that Dad doesn’t love him. He knows it’s not that. It’s that he doesn’t like him. His being here was getting in the way of Dad’s marriage, the life he was trying to lead with Rebecca and Declan. If it wasn’t for him getting involved, then Diana wouldn’t have been able to blackmail him into having an affair. If not for him, Dad’s marriage would be fine. He looked down at his sneakers, one has a scuff on the white top part. 

“I really thought we were going to get answers from the Lassiters Cameras,” Elle said, sounding very sad. 

“You couldn’t have known someone would cover it up.” 

“You asked me to come here and help you, and so far all I’ve done is make these worse.” She sighed, “I’m sorry Andrew.” 

“You’ve only been here a day. Two days.” He amended. 

“And in that time, I’ve managed to ruin your family and steal you away from the people that love you.” He looked up at her, but she wasn’t looking at him instead she was staring through the window at Dad. 

“Did you mean what you told Lucas? That you came back for me?” 

“Do you see anyone else around here named Andrew?” She asked, looking away from Dad too, now at the ground. “And I don’t appreciate you meddling in my relationships.” 

“Yeah. Sorry. I just…Didn’t want you to get distracted. From Dad. And from me.” 

“I was never going to go back to Lucas.” She told him, seriously. 

“You wouldn’t be the first person in my family to value their relationship over me. You know why my Mum gave you custody of me so easily? Because she doesn’t want me. I fight with her boyfriend too much. And you know why Dad doesn’t want me? Because I got him trapped in an affair with Diana. Why would you be different?” 

“You know, when I was a little kid, and Dad came to see us in Tassie be uh, brought this videotape with him to show us. It was you, walking your first steps. He wanted us to love you so badly, and when he asked me if I loved my little brother I told him I did because it made him happy. But I didn’t. I hated you. I hated that he picked you when I loved him so much.” 

“He didn’t pick me. He still left.” 

“That’s not how it felt to me. Until I figured out he was in jail, I thought he was just living with you and his new wife and his new children. I was so mad. A few years ago Dad was sick. Really sick. They didn’t think he was going to make it.” Elle began, her face graced by a small frown. “He had brain surgery.”

“I heard about that.” 

“I went through his wallet. In there, he had a picture Amy drew for him, and a photograph of you. He’s never even put a picture of Cameron up on the walls of the house. It just seemed so unfair. 
He was in a coma. I was taking care of him. I spent my twenty-first birthday learning how to give my father a sponge bath.” She said, “And I promise you no one was bringing me a casserole, or coming to see me in the hospital. It was just me, and my comatose Dad. It sucked. Out of everything I’ve been through in my life, plane crashes, exploding cars, collapsing roofs, I think that was the worst. Being so helpless, and completely on my own. You know, when Dad told me you’d come to live with him he was so happy, but I was so upset. I had brothers. I had two brothers that I loved and then they were gone. I didn’t want another brother. I just…I just wanted to have Dad to myself.  But when you called me…I thought about you, heard your voice and you weren’t a video or a picture you were real. A real person, who was related to me…And I didn’t hate you. How could I ever have thought I hated you? You were my brother. My baby brother. I thought they were doing to you what they did to me, and I couldn’t let that happen.” 

“I hung up the first time I called you before when you answered I realized you were a real person too and it spooked me.” He admitted. “I wasn’t…I mean I didn’t like you. I felt like everyone wished you were here instead of me. Dad especially.”  

“You have so many people who love you, Andrew.” She said, quietly, “And I see why. You’re pretty lovable.” 

“Dad didn’t think so.” 

“Don’t say that.” 

“You know the last thing I said to him? I told him I made a mistake siding with him.” He slid sideways so his head was resting on Elle’s arm. She’s warm to the touch, but not soft. “He was so upset with me.” 

“I’m sure half the things I say to Dad upset him. You’re hardly the only teenager in the world.” 

“I was so mad. When I saw him up on the Mezzanine that night, I think I just wanted something really bad to happen to him. So he could see how much he needs me. But something really bad did happen, and I haven’t been able to do anything.” Elle wrapped an arm around him, and she was deceptively strong for someone so small. 

“You called me. That’s something.” 

“Yeah. I guess.” He said, and they lapsed into silence for a minute before he spoke again, “Um, no offence but Dad’s prosthetic reeks.” He added, frowning at the hard plastic limb still clasped between Elle’s white knees. On one, there is a half-healed graze. 

“It does smell like our sweaty middle-aged Dad’s been putting his sweaty middle-aged leg into this thing for eight years.” She remarked, with a chuckle. Maybe the first laugh he’s heard since she arrived. He could stand to hear a lot more of them. "But he'll need it when he wakes up. He can't walk without it, and he hates being pushed in a wheelchair." When. It's good that one of them still has hope.

…

By the time the next morning rolls around, the three of them are still there - however, Scott has graduated from pacing holes in the floor to sitting with folded arms giving death stares to the guard at the door. The guard, who has been receiving the same stares from Elle, Rebecca and Declan for the last few days stays unphased. Elle did a coffee run at about six from Harold’s, and he ends up sleeping for a while. Eventually, though, the day begins again. Other people with loved ones in the ICU start to roll in, and they brought through an old man who had a stroke. Rebecca came in around eight with Declan. She looks at them, and then at Scott who was nearby. He’d only spoken a handful of words to them, he had tried to start a conversation with Andrew about Dad but he’d been too tired to participate properly. She sighs when she sees Elle, but walks past her to shake hands with Scott. He didn’t listen to what they were saying, just lay still on Elle’s shoulder and let the lights of the ICU dance in front of his eyes like a wave. Just as he was drifting off, thinking in his mind about the repetitive motion of skateboarding, Elle’s voice rang out. 

“Hey, um, Rebecca?” 

“Yes?” She asked, awkwardly. 

“I just, um, I’d like to apologize for how I’ve been treating you. It’s not fair. I just…I was just upset about this whole situation and I was taking it out on you. I shouldn’t have. I know you weren’t trying to keep me away or hurt me, you were trying to do the right thing and I shouldn’t have bitten your head off. I’m not trying to break up our family, I just…Got scared I guess that Andrew and I were going to end up like how it is with my other brother if I didn’t act.” Rebecca gave her a warm smile and put her hand on Elle’s other shoulder. 

“It’s okay. It’s a tough situation. Thank you for apologizing, we’re going to get through this as a family. And, you’re probably right. I think Andrew will be better off staying with you at the penthouse.” 

“Thanks.” She said, then sighed, “I think sleepy head and I should head back there now that someone is here to sit with Dad.” Andrew took his cue and sat upright, rubbing both eyes with his hands to get the sleep out. “You coming, Uncle Scott?” She asked the man who nodded his head. 

“Mmm. Thank you for having me.” 

“It’s all good. Robinsons stick together, you know?” Andrew is starting to get a sense of that. 

…
When they returned to the Penthouse, despite how tired he was, Andrew couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned and saw Dad in visions when he closed his eyes. He managed a power nap but woke from having disturbing dreams where Dad’s face starts blending into his. I’m writing you out, he says, over and over again. Restless again, Andrew finds his way into the living room, where Elle is lying on the couch with Dad’s leg held against her chest. 

He sat on the coffee table and looked at her. She looked back. He can hear Scott in the kitchenette making something with the kettle. Tea, probably. 

“Would you like something, Andrew?” He asks, loudly. 

“No thank you.” He replies, and usually he wouldn’t be that polite but he doesn’t want it getting back to Dad that he was disrespectful of his beloved brother. Elle is scowling at the roof as though it’s offended her. He doesn’t know why. 

“Can’t sleep?” He asks. 

“Can you?” 

“Not really. But, at least you have a good reason.”

“It’s not the jetlag keeping me up.” She sighed, “It’s that there’s a puzzle I can’t solve right in front of me.” 

“I wish I could be more help.” He said and scuffed his toes along the hardwood floor. Elle raised her arm and draped it over her face. Scott came through with his cup of tea and lounged in one of the armchairs. He didn’t speak and looked deep in thought.

“Tell me what you saw. From the night.” 

“Dad, up on the mezzanine.” Andrew said, “He was just…Drinking something. Scotch, or whiskey I guess.” 

“And where were you?” 

“I was coming out of Charlie’s. I stayed late to play darts. I didn’t want to go home.” 

“Does Charlie’s have any cameras?” Scott asked. 

…

Charlie’s does have cameras. It has a camera on the roof that points directly at the Lassiter's Mezzanine. Elle knew this because apparently she knew the owner before Rebecca and even before Steph. Izzy Hoyland, she says, and Andrew supposes that’s Summer’s aunt. She orders him to get his friends together because she has a plan. Scott says he doesn’t want to be involved and that’s probably for the better. If Andrew wasn’t already in so deep, he probably wouldn’t be involved either. The five of them stood in front of Charlie’s yellow sign. It casts a light on Elle that makes it look like she’d standing under stained glass. 

“Here’s the plan. Andrew, you take Tash and sneak into Rebecca’s office through the back – Near the Stingray Memorial Wall. Here. Take Donna’s key.” He took it. 

“What? Tash! Why not me?” Summer demanded. 

“Because you’re going to help me with the distraction.” She explained, “We are going to pretend to fight my dead brother, and your Dad killing him and e-k-cet-er-a,” She says, spelling out the etc. 

“Uh-huh.” She says, “Why?” 

“Because Rebecca will be too busy breaking us up in a fight to make sure that no one is stealing security footage from her office.” 

“And what about me?” Scott asked, 

“You’ll be looking out to make sure Declan isn’t going back there and to distract him if he does. Just start talking about India, or something.” 

“The place?” 

“The baby.” 

“This is the worst plan ever.” He says, looking between them. “Maybe we should just let the cops do their jobs.” 

“And pin this on Andrew?” Tash speaks up, “No way!” 

“Yeah.” Summer echoes, “No way.” Scott, perhaps seeing that there is no way around this, sighs, and then opens the door to Charlie’s to allow Elle and Summer to go in. 

Andrew and Tash, meanwhile, snuck around the back to the Stingray Memorial Wall, which was a fairly well-maintained memorial for one of Toadie’s cousins, or such was the rumour he heard. All the Rebecchi’s have fish names. Andrew thinks that it’s a strange tradition. Summer probably used to know him, but can’t quite be sure. Seeing how the back door to the bar was propped open by a brick, getting into the inside storeroom was easy as pie. Rebecca’s office is toward the back of the main room, hidden by two half walls. Above her desk is a large poster with several signatures from a band Andrew has never heard of before. He can hear Elle and Summer sniping at each other on the other side of the room and a glance tells them that Rebecca has gone to try and diffuse the situation, along with Scott and Donna. 

“It’s not here.” Tash hisses, indicating the empty desk. No machine of any kind, laptop or otherwise. 

“Well, perhaps if you’d never meddled in my Dad’s marriage, my dad would be here!” Summer exclaims, so Elle can bite back with - 

“Your dad? What about my brother!” 

“Let’s try the back room.” He says, and they both moved away and back to where they’d come from. The back room had a second desk, a couch for someone to sit on, and what seemed to be a large stack of receipts sitting on top of a laptop computer. Tash stands guard, looking around for Declan and Rebecca while Andrew opened the silver Macbook. A lock screen came up. Great. He tried Declan’s birthday. Nothing. Tried her anniversary with Dad. Nothing. With one try left before being locked out for a few minutes, he tried to think of the next date that might work. 

“If you were Rebecca, what would you make the computer lock be?” He asked Tash, who turned halfway to face him. 

“Why would I know?” 

“You’re a girl!” He insists - 

“Sure, but you’re her stepson.” Tash bites back. “Try your birthday.” 

“It’s not that.” He sighs, “Maybe…Oh, I don’t know.” His eyes ran over the desk looking for clues. A framed photo of Dad in a broken frame. A pair of eyeglasses. Two half-drunk cups of tea. A photo of Declan and India…India? Admittedly Andrew knew and cared very little about Declan’s baby, but seeing how her birthday was a holy day in their home, he punched that in and surprise surprise, the computer unlocked. 

“What number was that?” Tash asked, coming in close to look over his shoulder. Her perfume smells sweet, but not specific. 

“India’s birthday.” He replied, “What else would it be?” She doesn’t reply, but her hair brushes against the side of his face. Using the white cursor, he’s able to begin interacting with the screen. After it loads in, he’s confronted with a very tidy computer rather than the set-up at Lassiter's.

“Which one is the cameras?” Tash asks, and he begins covering his mouse over each icon to figure out what it did. “How about opening the taskbar and searching for videos?” Tash suggested, and Andrew did exactly that. The bar came up, and he opened the folder for videos. It came up with the default folder. Inside, he navigated to one labelled ‘insurance’. There was a series of videos inside, the thumbnails all displaying the inside of Charlie’s, except for one. The label is the date of the incident. Plugging the USB into the machine, he moved the video to the device without watching it. He didn’t know how much time he had before - 

Footsteps coming toward them. Andrew shut the window and then pulled the USB from the machine swiftly. Tash looked at him and then kicked the power down button on the tower with her foot just as the door opened, and Declan let himself in. He stared at them as though he was somewhere he wasn’t meant to be. Andrew was never quite sure what to make of Declan. Sometimes, he hates him. Other times he thinks in another life, where Dad doesn’t exist, maybe they could be friends.

“What are you two doing in here?” He asks, scowling from under his fringe. 

“Looking for you, actually,” Andrew says, without even thinking of it. Some hidden Robinson instinct of self-preservation kicked in. His first instinct, as always, is to lie. He can’t help it. He’s always been this way. 

“Me?” 

“I mean, what else would I be looking for in here?” Declan doesn’t reply, just looks between them. 

“Your sister is causing a scene.” 

“I know. I’m trying to get away from her and talk to you.” 

“What do you want?” 

“Who is Robert?” He asks, finally. “Detective Brennan is trying to pin it on me through him.” 

“So, you’re probably off the hook!” Tash says, helpfully. 

“Robert…Robinson? Why not ask Elle?” 

“It seems like kind of a touchy subject.” Which is is – But he also hasn’t asked and doesn’t care. Call him crazy but he isn’t losing sleep over not knowing a brother who tried to kill his dad. Declan seems to consider this, and then says - 

“Well, he blew up a plane.” 

“I knew that.” 

“He tried to kill Elle, because of how she treated him.” Declan continued, “And from what I can tell, she hasn’t changed much since then.” 

“Do you think she could be buying into the police’s story about me?” He wonders, aloud. Tash kicks him in the shin with her open-toed sandal. 

“I don’t know, but I do know Andrew she’s not on your side. She won’t ever be. The only person Elle cares about is Elle, and if it satisfies Elle to see you locked up for life, well, then you will be.” Andrew can see what he’s doing easily. He’s trying to drive a wedge between them, but it won’t work, he thinks with satisfaction. Because he already knows that Elle knows he didn’t do it. 

“Thanks, Dec.” He says, over pronouncing the C on his name. 

“Any time.” Declan lies, and Andrew, as he walks out into the main room and thinks that Elle is the only person in the world who has ever been on his side without a good reason to be. When she and Summer see him exiting, they stop shouting at each other. Time to break up this little party, and get back to the penthouse. They have a tape to watch. 

…

Elle hooks her laptop computer up to the television so that they can all watch without crowding her tiny little migraine machine. When she hits the button to turn it on, he watches it come to life. Her wallpaper is a picture of a cat wearing a princess dress, and there’s nothing else of note on the screen. Icons for her email, her browser of choice, and even a couple of cartoony knight icons he assumes are for some kind of video game. He can’t imagine Elle playing any kind of game, but then again a lot of things he never imagined have been happening recently. Scott seems perturbed by the events of the morning, but Summer seems to have come to terms with it. She keeps looking at him and smiling. Andrew has never been more curious about her family and where it is she comes from. 

“There!” Elle exclaims, managing to get it all to work. They could have had this done forty minutes ago if she just let him do it but she insisted on doing it by herself. Andrew can only wonder if it’s because there is something on her computer she doesn’t want anyone else to see. You know. Journalist stuff. He doesn’t bother asking. The mood is too dire, despite Tash’s semi-frequent attempts to raise it. He appreciates that about her, but it doesn’t seem like anyone else does. Scott at one point took a call from his wife but said nothing about it. But now the screen is on, and Elle plays the video. It’s the Mezzanine from the view of Charlie’s roof camera. Dad comes out of the elevator with his awkward, limping gait. He drinks whiskey, or maybe scotch, from a cut crystal glass. Andrew can see…well he can’t see much at all. It’s dark, and the camera is old. The grain from the video is giving him a headache and he feels bad for all the times he made jokes about security footage provided by the police being bad quality. Then, out of nowhere, the camera cuts to static for a second and cuts back. The railing Dad had been standing in front of, which was glass and embossed with the Mezzanine’s name is shattered, and the roof is empty. His glass lay abandoned on the ground, in a pool of something dark. Scotch, he hopes. So they still have nothing. All of this for…Nothing. Suddenly, he feels mind-numbingly tired. Scott must be feeling the same way because he says - 

“You lied to Rebecca for that?” Elle narrows her eyes, and they somehow get smaller. 

“You know…” She began, “I read a study once that says that about fifty-one per cent of the things people say are lies.”’

“That can’t possibly be true,” Scott said.

“Oh, you don’t lie? You’ve never said ‘Of course I love your macaroni necklace, Madison!’ or  ‘No Charlene, your butt looks fine in those jeans!” 

“That’s different.” He insisted, “That’s not lying, that’s…That’s sparing her feelings.” 

“You know, that’s the most common reason people give for deceit. They lied to protect someone’s feelings. To avoid confrontation. Self-preservation, in other words. If you three learn nothing else from this experience, take that away from it." Elle said, pointing at Tash with a disinterested finger.  "People lie because they are liars. People will lie to you your whole life and not think twice about it. You can have a brother who kisses your forehead but then tries to kill you with a car bomb. A dad who tells you he loves you then stages an affair between your best – Only friend, and your boyfriend. You can have a boyfriend who tells you he loves you only to sleep with your stepmother and a man who promises you you’re the only one for him only to leave you for his baby mama. You can love a woman like a mother, and she can be there for you on the worst days of your life and she’ll still lie to you." She paused the video, and for one single frame, Andrew can finally make out a woman storming onto the mezzanine. A woman in a green, knee-length dress. 

“People are liars.” He says, finally. 

“But a camera isn’t.” Elle finished.