Darkwater (10 page)

We sat out on the front step, eating.

‘What's your name?' Bradley asked me, and I told him.

‘That's a funny name.' He grinned at me, and then he pointed at his own chest. ‘My name is Bradley.'

‘Pleased to meet you.' I held out my hand to shake his and he thought it was very funny. So much so that he wanted to do it again, and again and again.

As I looked at my watch anxiously for the third time, I finally heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Light, delicate steps, and it was her, Mrs Parsons, with a shopping bag.

‘Mum.' Bradley held her tight as soon as she opened the gate, and she hugged him back, the look on her face enough to make me also smile.

She was so sorry she was late. She hoped I didn't mind, and she fumbled in her purse to find some change to give me – ‘for your trouble'.

I didn't want to take it.

She insisted.

I said I had to get going or I'd be late for school, and as I headed to the gate, Bradley let out another wail. ‘Don't go.' He reached for my arm, and Mrs Parsons tried to pry his fingers off. ‘Don't go.'

His cry made me feel awful. I promised I'd be back, that we'd eat ice-cream together again soon.

‘And play hide and seek?'

‘And play hide and seek.'

Mrs Parsons took him out the gate and onto the first of the stone steps so that he could wave goodbye to me.

‘Don't go down there.' He pointed to where the path led to the river, the steps an uneven tumble of sandstone under the knotted shade of coral and plane trees. ‘It's bad down there.'

I told him I wasn't. I was going to school.

‘Promise?'

I crossed my heart.

The assembly bell was ringing when I got to the gates and I rushed straight to Joe in the hope of reminding him to get Cherry to go to the police. I lowered my voice because she was only a couple of kids away. ‘Did you tell her she had to go? It's wrong not to.'

The amplifier crackled as Mr Castle turned it on, and I had no way of making it to my line in time now, so I slipped in, next to Kate and Cherry, hushing them both with the tip of my finger. I could only hope I would escape unnoticed and somehow find a way of rejoining my form when the long list of announcements was finished.

I glanced behind me quickly, and there at the other end of the boys was Nicky Blackwell. I looked down, but not fast enough to escape his wink and raised eyebrow.

I stood perfectly still, not wanting to be noticed. At the end of the line a couple of teachers clustered together, Miss Ingleton among them. I was sure I saw her shake her head in dismay as Mr Castle began his usual speech about hair length, dress length and jewellery, but I didn't want to watch her for too long in case she turned in my direction.

Finally, he called us to attention. The same two syllables – the long drawn-out ‘Atten–', followed by the snap of the ‘SHUN', and the slap of ankles being drawn together, never as crisp as he would have liked (if fact, we often had to repeat the drill until there was a perfect clap), and the slow shuffle of the lines towards class.

‘You'd better hurry,' Kate whispered to me, and there was a moment when all the lines turned, allowing me to slip, in the chaos, from one to the other.

I looked at Cherry. She had the tip of her long plait in the corner of her mouth and was twisting the strip of leather on her wrist. Her bag was slung over her shoulder, dog-eared exercise books hastily crammed in, one on top of the other. Her eyes were grey, pale and wide and she looked up at me for a moment, aware that I had been staring at her.

‘What are you looking at?'

I was taken aback. It was unlike Cherry to be so direct. In fact, in all the years she had known Joe, we had barely said more than two or three words to each other. But lately she was different. I'd seen her snap at her father and now this.

‘Go.' Kate shoved me.

‘You should go to the police.' I spoke without thinking, leaning forward, wanting Cherry to hear me.

She did. As she stared back at me, there was fear in her eyes, the look of an animal, trapped.

Fact: The Clarkes have lost everything.

It was Daniel who told me this. He'd always been a kid you didn't really notice; quiet, never singled out for praise or trouble, usually sitting in the middle of the class with a small group of boys who didn't ever do particularly well or badly. But since his return to school, he sat at the back, staring out the window and refusing to talk to any of his friends. When a teacher asked him a question, he shrugged and made no attempt to answer. He didn't get into trouble. The staff had probably discussed the situation and decided he needed time.

But that afternoon, he was given detention. He had knocked over all his science equipment, smashing three test tubes and almost starting a fire when his Bunsen burner fell on Mikey's exercise book.

I didn't know what had caused it. None of us did.

Miss Sharpe told him she had no choice. There was, quite simply, no excuse for that kind of behaviour.

He didn't respond. He just stayed at the bench, arms crossed as he looked directly at her.

I had to take him to F Block, and we walked together, both silent, until I eventually summoned up the courage to ask him how he was going.

He kicked at the ground with the toe of his shoe, and then stared up at the cloudless blue sky.

‘They won't even know I'm late back.'

I could only assume he was talking about his parents.

‘The school rings them,' I explained.

‘Mum'll be too drunk to answer the phone and who knows where Dad'll be.'

‘They must be really upset.'

He just looked back at the sweep of clear blue overhead.

Uncomfortable in the silence, I tried to keep a conversation going. ‘Do you know where you'll be moving to?'

He shook his head. ‘Some dump.'

‘They probably just want to get away, start again somewhere else. But it doesn't mean they'll take you somewhere awful.'

He looked at me as though I were an idiot. ‘We're not moving because of her.' The sneer on his face barely masked the tears. ‘We're broke. Dad lost everything.'

I didn't know. The Clarkes' was one of the largest houses on the peninsula – they had always been filthy rich – and then I remembered Dee's remarks about paying for Roxie's groceries, and the time I had seen Amanda going off for a job interview.

‘I don't care. It makes no difference where we live. They'll still be miserable and she'll still be dead.'

‘They can't have lost everything?' I looked at him in disbelief.

‘Wanna bet? We've known for months, but we weren't allowed to tell anyone.'

It had been a well kept secret.

‘Amanda was the one who really cared. Dad thinks he'll make it all again, Mum just wishes he'd spend a night or two at home, but Amanda was upset. Money mattered to her. She'd always been able to have anything she wanted – clothes, jewellery, make-up. She couldn't believe it. And then she was angry. Hated them both for doing that – as though they did it to her.' His voice was flat, the words delivered without emotion.

‘But she wouldn't have killed herself over something like that?'

Once again he looked at me as though I were a complete fool. ‘She didn't kill herself.' He pushed open the door to the detention room. ‘She was Amanda. The money was a setback but she would have worked an angle to get round it. Rich husband or something.'

I was shocked by his venom, but then, I'd never been through an experience like the one he was now immersed in, and I couldn't imagine how dark it must be.

Mr Mulley was the only other person in the room, and he glanced up, nodding as we took our seats, each in opposite corners.

A couple of minutes later, Nicky arrived, throwing his bag on the floor and saying ‘Gidday' loudly to all of us.

‘No Lyndon?' Mr Mulley asked.

Nicky said he hadn't seen him at school during the day, and Mr Mulley crossed our names off the roll, writing ‘ABSENT' next to the one at the top.

Again, it didn't take long before he left the room. He coughed a couple of times and mentioned something about coming back soon, and continuing with our work. I watched him walking to the shade of the ironbarks along the school boundary, lighting up as he did so. Only moments later, he was joined by one of the female teachers. She leant against the fence as she lit her own cigarette. The window was wide open and I could hear the sounds of their voices, drifting through the late summer afternoon, floating above the slow ticking of the sprinklers as they sent out great arcs, like rain on the grass.

Nicky dragged his seat next to mine.

‘So, you became a senior this morning.' His smile was a sly one. ‘Can't keep away from me?'

Behind us, Daniel was drawing in his exercise book, his head down and close to the page. I tried to tell him that it was okay, he could come and talk, Mr Mulley wouldn't be back until the end of the detention, but he ignored me.

‘Is Lyndon really away?' I looked at Nicky, who was leaning back in his chair, hands crossed on the back of his head and humming a Deep Purple song.

He nodded. ‘Haven't seen him since you pissed him off yesterday.' He considered me slowly. ‘You're obviously one scary chick.'

I rolled my eyes at him, sticking a finger up as I did so.

He drew up a grid on the sheet of paper in front of him and then pushed it towards me for a game of battleships. I used to play it with Joe and I was good at it. After I defeated him twice, he stretched, rolling his skateboard back and forth underfoot.

‘Who's that?' he mouthed, pointing at Daniel behind us.

I wrote his name down on the bottom of our battleships game. I was surprised he didn't know, but he hadn't hung out with Amanda.

Why have they got him in detention?
He wrote the words quickly.
Poor bastard.

I nodded in agreement.

He looked around. ‘Want a go?' and he nudged his skateboard in Daniel's direction.

‘Where?' I asked as Daniel shook his head.

Nicky had already begun pushing the desks to one side, clearing a row down the middle of the room. When he'd finished, he stood at the blackboard.

‘Atten-SHUN.' He was doing his best to stick the flatness of his stomach out in a parody of Mr Castle. ‘Blackwell's my name, but you can call me sir.'

Even Daniel was smiling slightly.

Nicky pointed at his board. ‘Who knows why we tic tac?'

I crossed my arms and looked at him. ‘Because you like making that thumping, grinding noise on the footpath to piss everyone off?'

He considered my answer for a moment. ‘Imaginative response from Blair. And partially correct. But there's more to it than a desire to irritate.'

He turned to the board, chalk in hand and began to draw a series of sweeping short lines, like the lines a skater makes in trying to move forward, each foot moving in an arc away from the body.

‘Get the picture?'

‘Clear as,' I told him.

‘A practical demonstration may be in order.'

He got on his board, the nose lifting up and then down as it swung from left to right, carving against the floor in order to speed up. Unfortunately the runway was so short, he hadn't got far before he hit the back wall of the classroom.

‘Let's break it down,' he suggested and he pushed the board towards me.

I stood on it.

‘First, put a little weight to the tail of the board so the nose is lifted, and slightly pointed to the left.'

I did as he asked.

‘Now lean to the right, shifting your weight to the heels. That's it. Bit more on the front foot.'

Daniel was sitting up on his desk now, watching.

‘Now, as your front wheels touch the ground, the board is gonna want to turn back to the right. Carve it by pushing against this. Use the weight in your front heel.' Nicky brushed his hair back from his eyes. ‘Again.'

I repeated the movements, getting up a rhythm, until I too hit the back wall.

With his hands on his hips, Nicky watched. ‘Not bad. Reckon we'll need to give it a go outside to really see how much speed you can get up.'

I jumped off and pushed the board towards Daniel. He looked at it.

‘Want to try?'

He shook his head.

‘It's not that hard,' I told him. ‘Believe me, if I can do it, you'd have no trouble.'

He didn't respond and I pushed the board a little closer. ‘At least have a go standing.'

As it touched his toe, he shoved it back towards me, the nose slamming into my ankle. I glared at him. ‘Why'd you do that?'

‘'Cos you're so pushy.'

I didn't know how to respond.

He kicked the board to the side, picked up his schoolbag and stormed out.

‘What a woman.' Nicky shook his head. ‘You're driving everyone out of detention.'

I glared at him. ‘You're still here.'

‘True.'

I started moving the desks back into the row. I felt terrible I'd upset Daniel.

Nicky watched me. ‘It'd just be all the crap he's going through.' And then when he saw how bad I felt, he lifted my chin slightly. The warmth of his hand against my skin caught me off guard, and I blushed, lowering my face. In the silence, I could hear the clock ticking, and from outside the sound of the sprinkler as it continued to spin in a wide arc, the turn of its arms a slow rhythm against the stillness of the afternoon. Somewhere, across the oval, a kookaburra laughed, a wide-throated cackle, followed by the rush of its wings as it swooped from one tree to the next.

He was still looking at me and I didn't dare raise my eyes.

I stepped back, my gaze fixed on the ground until he eventually spoke. ‘You know I've got a girlfriend.'

The air was sucked out of me, a great collapse in my breathing that I knew wasn't visible but still felt as thought it had left me curled up and empty. Glancing up, I could see he was embarrassed, unsure how to continue with the conversation that had suddenly opened before us.

‘I just wanted to tell you because I thought you, you know, liked me and I–'

I interrupted before this could get any worse. ‘I don't like you. At least, not like that.'

He bent down to pick up his skateboard, his hair hiding his face, but I could still see the curve of his cheek and it was flushed. I felt like a complete and utter fool.

I continued: ‘I just wanted someone to teach me how to skate and you've done that and that's great, but you know, you can go and hang with your girlfriend, or whoever, you're your own person and I didn't want anything like that and I truly don't care.' My smile was forced, and I took my seat back at my desk and opened my homework book. I could see Mr Mulley cutting across the lawns and making his way back to the room. There were only a couple more minutes to go, I told myself, and then I would be out of here and I wouldn't have to see Nicky again. I'd avoid him.

Outside, the heat of the afternoon had softened. Mr Mulley locked the classroom door behind us. We walked across the oval, careful to avoid the sprinkler, neither of us talking, until Nicky eventually spoke.

‘Want to try a bit more of the tic tac toe?' His voice was uncertain, and so unlike him, that I almost relented, wishing we had never had the conversation we'd had, but the embarrassment of the memory made me shake my head.

‘I said I'd give you another lesson, and that hardly counted.' He jerked his head back in the direction of F Block.

‘I've got things to do.'

He began to speak. ‘It's not that I don't–'

But I interrupted him again. ‘Want your board back?' I had already taken it out of my bag and held it, the deck rough in my hands, towards him.

He looked surprised. ‘I said you could have it.'

‘Nah.' I shook my head. ‘You might need it. Who knows when you might want to teach your girlfriend to skate.'

I had, as I so often did, uttered words without thinking, and they were childish and petty.

He just looked at me, and then he swung his bag over his shoulder as I pulled my bike out from the racks. He dropped his own board to the ground and was on, one hand raised in farewell, as he told me she didn't skate, and he guessed he'd see me round.