The Girl in the Yellow Vest (16 page)

Zara was silent and for a couple of seconds Charlotte held out faint hope that she had dropped the subject. Then she lifted her chin and Charlotte saw a calculating sparkle light her eyes. ‘Just give it to me straight, Lottie. Does he even know I exist?’

Charlotte glanced sharply at their mother, who had gone a strange shade of green. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Does he, Mum?’ Zara demanded.

Virginia Templeton’s fists clenched. ‘I will not live anywhere near Dennis Mayer.’

‘Dennis Mayer?’ Zara’s eyes brightened. ‘Is that his name?’

Charlotte hastily intervened, hoping her mother would not inadvertently tell her anything else. ‘Look, Zara, he’s just not the type of man who ever wanted children. He won’t be pleased to see you.’

‘I want to find that out for myself,’ Zara returned stubbornly. ‘I want to see what he’s like. So he stole a few things. Maybe he had a good reason.’

‘No, no, no!’ Virginia jumped to her feet, startling them both with her outburst. ‘I forbid it.’

‘Mum.’ Charlotte tried to grab her hand but she stepped out of reach.

‘Leave me alone.’ Virginia stumbled away, babbling incoherently as she left the room.

Charlotte wanted to follow her but knew she had to end this conversation first. Make sure that it never happened again.

‘He didn’t have a good reason, Zara,’ she said quietly. ‘He’s in there because he’s supposed to be in there and he doesn’t want to see you.’

‘Or maybe you don’t want me to see him,’ Zara snapped shrewdly.

Charlotte set her face against emotion. ‘When you’re eighteen you can do whatever you like. I won’t stop you. But until then, he is out of our lives and we’re going to keep it that way.’

Zara shrugged. ‘When the time comes you might not be able to stop me.’ On this threat, she stomped out of the room in her mother’s wake.

A shudder rippled through Charlotte’s body. Her only consolation was that it would be rather difficult for a teenager without a licence to run away from Salonika beach. It wasn’t like she could hop on a bus or a train and be out of her sister’s reach before she knew it. The only method of escape was walking and there was nowhere to walk to for miles. The bus that came by was the school one and that wasn’t going to take her to the airport any time soon.

It didn’t stop her worrying for the next couple of days, though.

Zara did not raise the subject of her father again but she didn’t speak to Charlotte about anything else either. In the morning, she ate her breakfast in silence. On Tuesday when she got home from school she went straight to her bedroom and closed the door. Charlotte did not see her again till dinner-time. On Wednesday, it was clear she intended to do the same thing. Charlotte was folding laundry in the living room when Zara got home. The girl gave her one mutinous look before taking herself off to her room again. Charlotte sighed as she looked down at her full basket.

I couldn’t have been this difficult as a teenager.

This was the downside of being both sister and parent. She wanted to be her friend, not just her drill sergeant, but it seemed they could find no common ground. One of them had to give a little.

What can I do?

A compromise maybe?

She put down her basket and went to knock on Zara’s door. There was no answer so she tried the handle and the door swung open. Zara, who had been rapidly texting someone, shoved her phone into her backpack.

‘You can’t just barge in like that.’

‘I didn’t.’ Charlotte tried to be reasonable. ‘I knocked first but you didn’t answer.’

Her sister didn’t respond. So she took a deep breath and took a couple more steps into the room.

‘You know, I was thinking. Why don’t you invite Rosemary over one weekend? You could have a sleepover. I can make nachos for dinner and we can eat lots of chocolate.’ She grinned. ‘I kind of need a bit of comfort food myself.’

Zara rolled her eyes. ‘No thanks.’

‘Come on, Zara.’ Charlotte sat on the bed. ‘I’m trying to make an effort here.’

‘Well, what are we going to do, Lottie? Sit in this room all day? You won’t let me out any more with the Barnes Inc crew roaming around.’

‘I told you, it’s not safe. There’s too much smoking and drinking. I worry about you.’ Charlotte tried to take her hand but Zara moved it away petulantly.

‘You’re always worried. Why can’t you just trust me? I’m not stupid, you know.’

Charlotte grabbed her by the face, a palm on each cheek, so she was forced to look into her eyes. Deep blue ones, like her own. ‘I don’t think you’re stupid. I would never think that. I know you’re a good kid, Zara. It’s not you I don’t trust, it’s them.’ Charlotte released her and put a tired hand to her temple. ‘Tell me what it is I can do to make you happy because I am sick of fighting with you.’

Zara bit her lip.

‘Tell me.’

‘I want to see my father.’

Anything but that.
Lottie pursed her lips.

‘I know you can help me do it.’ Zara raised her eyes bravely. ‘We don’t have to tell Mum.’

‘That’s not my call, Zara.’

‘You say you trust me. But how can I believe you when you won’t even let me see him?’

‘You wouldn’t want to see him if you knew –’ Charlotte broke off.

‘Knew what?’ Zara demanded, with all the triumph of someone who knew they had stumbled on a secret. ‘Tell me.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Tell me or I’ll run away and ask him myself.’

‘Zara!’ Charlotte’s mouth dropped open as she was finally faced with the deadliest weapon in Zara’s arsenal.

‘Tell her.’

Both their gazes flew to the door.

‘Mum,’ Charlotte exclaimed, rising to her feet. ‘How long have you been standing there?’

‘Tell her, Lottie,’ Their mother leaned heavily against the frame. ‘Tell her.’

Sweat broke out on Charlotte’s upper lip. She hadn’t thought this hateful task would come so soon or that it would fall to her.

‘Are you sure?’

Her mother shut her eyes briefly. ‘No. Wait.’

‘Wait for what?’ Zara asked as their mother left the room. ‘She’s babbling again, Lottie. She doesn’t know where she is.’

Charlotte bit her lip. ‘We don’t know that.’ It seemed like just for a second her mother had been herself again, back in the present, where that haunted look marked her face, her shoulders drooped and her soul stepped back from her eyes. In a way, having Alzheimer’s had provided her with a means of escape and that was at least one aspect of the disease to be grateful for.

Charlotte watched the door waiting for her to return.

‘Is she going to come back?’ Zara demanded, completely oblivious to everything but her own need. ‘Or is this just a joke?’

Charlotte’s fingers dug painfully into the palm of her hand as she wondered frantically whether her mother really meant for her to tell Zara, and if she should. She’d read the studies done on this. Zara was old enough to know. She just needed some time to plan this, get Luke over, and make some bloody tea.

As if that’s going to help.

Zara stood up. ‘I’m going after her.’

Charlotte got up as well and followed her to their mother’s room. It took them about two seconds to discover that Virginia Templeton had passed out on her bed and was snoring gently.

With a heavy sigh, Charlotte put the heel of her palm to her forehead. ‘She must have had an episode and forgotten what she was doing.’ She dropped her hand. ‘Just as well, I suppose.’

At least this way she had more time. She could even contact that therapist in Mackay. After all, there was no telling whether Zara would be comfortable talking to her about it.

‘What’s this?’ Zara said, twitching what looked to be a newspaper clipping out of her mother’s hand.

Charlotte’s head snapped up, but it was too late. Zara was already scanning the article. A gut-wrenching gasp ripped from her throat. And fear, like a shaft of ice, cut straight through Charlotte’s heart.

Oh crap
.

The clipping fell from Zara’s fingers, fluttered to the ground like a stray piece of ash from a bonfire that had just ignited. Charlotte snatched it up, her eyes whipping across the headline.

Serial Rapist Finally Jailed.

The photograph beneath the damning words was a black-and-white picture of a forty-something man with frizzy hair, worn too long over the ears. Instinctively, she knew this was Zara’s father even though her mother had never shown the article to her before. She looked just like him. There were many things her mother hadn’t told her. Many secrets she felt still stood between them . . . not that she wanted to know everything. But seeing him, this man, who had ruined her mother’s life and hacked away at some of her own, was a shock.

Her throat dried, her temperature fluctuated wildly between hot and cold. Putting a face to a name for the very first time was like reopening the wound.

His hands were cuffed. His dead eyes, the colour of which she couldn’t discern, stared back at her emotionlessly. He neither smiled nor frowned at the camera but his expression of contented conceit made her lunch boil in her guts. She threw the article away from her, taking in shallow wheezy breaths. She couldn’t bring herself to read the entire thing. She was so lost in her own painful memories of that time that she had forgotten her sister. Her eyes flew across the room and she found her at the foot of their mother’s bed in the foetal position, rocking on her backside.

‘Zara,’ she cried, immediately sitting down beside her.

Her sister was weeping uncontrollably.

‘Zara, talk to me.’ She tried to put her arms around her sister but Zara flailed violently and then stood up.

‘Don’t.’

‘Zara –’

Her sister’s eyes, red and raw, flicked to their mother, her hand flinging out hysterically.

‘She said he was a thief!’

‘I’m sorry, Zara.’ Charlotte made haste to explain. ‘She had to lie to protect you.’

‘No! You’re lying now!’ Zara clutched her belly and for a moment Charlotte was sure she was going to be sick. But the moment passed.

‘Zara, you need to sit down. Here,’ she grabbed a box of tissues from her mother’s bedside table, ‘let me wipe your face.’

‘You’re trying to trick me.’ Zara pushed the words out between her teeth. ‘This can’t be right.’

Charlotte felt tears on her own face now. ‘I wish it wasn’t the truth, but it is. Mum was going to tell you when you were older.’

‘I don’t believe you. You’re just trying to keep me away from him.’

‘Zara, look at me,’ Charlotte choked, holding out her hand though not daring to touch her. Zara raised her chin, defiance in the line of her jaw. ‘Do you really think we’d be that cruel?’

Zara heaved a sob so big, her whole body convulsed before she turned around and stumbled out of there.

‘Zara!’ Charlotte called. ‘Wait!’

But her sister had already broken into a wild run, fuelled by adrenaline and grief. This time she did not run to her bedroom though. She ran out the back door and onto the road. Charlotte ran after her, calling out. Zara did not stop. Instead she doubled her pace, running down the street, passed the widely spaced residential housing and then onto a lonely stretch of road leading to the jetty. It was only quarter to four in the afternoon, so the air was thick with tropical heat. Insects chirped and the smell of baked green leaves assailed her senses. Charlotte followed at least a few metres behind.

She began to sweat, her skin slick with moisture, but didn’t break pace. She panted and heaved. Each breath became more difficult to inhale as her muscles began to burn from the exertion. A stitch threatened in her side but she ignored it.

She had to catch up.

Ahead, she could see that Zara was losing momentum and fight. Her body was swaying and she had wandered into the centre of the road.

A ute came around the corner at speed.

There was no energy left to scream.

The figure was a blur on the road, which he saw mere seconds before he swerved to avoid it. His wheels hit the gravel of the shoulder in a cloud of dust as the car jerked to a halt.

‘What the fuck?!’ said Fish from the back seat, the papers he was holding flying up out of his hands and scattering on the floor. ‘Aw shiiiiiitttt.’