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Box Set Page 6

by Kim Petersen


  Jumping two steps at a time down to the paved path of the front of her new home was a girl that looked to Millie to be around the same age as herself. She had a mane of long blonde hair flowing in a golden sheen behind her and wore a pale yellow dress which cinched in around the small of her waist with a wide black cummerbund, skirting out in flurry of layered frills to her knees. Both her wrists were bejewelled with chunks of thin gold and black bangles, and her feet were bare. Millie watched her curiously as the girl frolicked her way out to the truck on the street and peered through the back doors, checking on the progress of their move. The girl turned about on thin willowy legs, taking in her new neighbourhood until her eyes found and rested on the watching figure of Millie still leaning against the wall of her porch. Millie smiled before looking away, feeling slightly embarrassed that she had been caught out staring. Turning to go back inside and continue her special menu for her mother’s return that afternoon, Millie stopped short when she heard the girl call out, nearer to her now.

  “Hi there,” she said, smiling with a wave of her bejewelled arm. “I’m Emily.”

  Millie pivoted on the balls of her own bare feet to face her new neighbour. Now that she was closer, Millie could see that Emily might be a little older than she had first figured. Millie thought she was very pretty, as she eyed her over inquisitively. Glimmering hair framed bright blue eyes that perched above the smallest of noses Millie had ever seen. Beneath that button nose, a rosebud mouth parted, petite with a smile upon the heart-shape of a china-doll face.

  “Hi, I’m Millie. I live here.” She gestured towards the old house behind her.

  Emily laughed. “Well, I live next door to you now!” Blue china-dolls sparkled.

  “Em!” An overweight woman called out from the neighbouring porch. “Em! I need your help please!”

  “Yeah Ma,” Emily called back, grinning at Millie with a glint of mischief in her rolling eyes. “I get the feeling, Miss Millie that this …” She gestured a small hand between herself and Millie, “Is going to be fun!” She gave Millie a playful wink, turned on her heels and ran back over to her mother, disappearing into her new home.

  Millie lingered for a few moments longer while pondering her brief interaction with Emily; and feeling a small rush of excitement surging through her, she grinned, somewhat baffled at her own reaction. Somehow, she knew Emily was about to play a starring role in her life.

  A few hours later Millie was doing a final check over the house while her father and Ace went to fetch her mother from Rockton Memorial. She wanted to make sure the house was as pristine as could be for her mother’s arrival. She even picked a handful of the wild yellow and orange flowers from their “jungle garden” as she liked to refer to it. She had lovingly pruned and clipped the stems as well as she could and placed them in her mother’s favourite vase in the middle of their dining table, complete with the best table cloth she could find. She stood back to survey her work with a critical eye. Hmmm... It looks nice, she thought, quite pleased with her effort. Work done, she decided to spend the rest of her time waiting for her family to return, and dancing around the house to the tune of INXS. Original Sin filled the oppressive warm air of the house while she was lost in the voice of lead singer Michael Hutchence. She drifted and twirled around the lounge room, so caught up with her own melody-filled world that she almost missed the boisterous pounding at the front door. She lowered the volume and cocked her head to one side until there was an even louder boom at the door.

  “Alright, alright, I’m coming!” She stomped towards the door and yanked it open with annoyance.

  Irritation gave way to surprise when she saw Emily standing there sporting an amused grin.

  “Hey, heard the music,” Emily beamed. “I’m a fan too.”

  “Yeah, they’re great,” Millie mumbled self-consciously and opened the screen door for Emily to enter.

  “Wanted to see if you’d like to hang out a bit.” Emily strutted in and sniffed at the aroma wafting from the kitchen. “Mmmm, smells good in here.” She casually threw over the lemon sleeve of her shoulder.

  “Oh, thanks; I’d love to, but my mum is due home from the hospital any minute,” Millie said as she followed Emily down the hallway.

  Emily paused on bare feet to taunt Millie with her blue-eyed stare. “Sure you can’t spare just five minutes?” She reached into a pocket hidden among the frilled layers of her skirt, and pulled out a gold packet of cigarettes and a box of matches.

  Noticing the alarmed look that crossed Millie’s face, the sheen of her golden hair fell lower down her back as she laughed. “You’re not a nerd are you, Miss Millie?”

  “Of course not!” Millie scowled, impulsively grappling for a handful of the long dark hair cascading around her shoulders and beginning to twist the strands between nervous fingers.

  Smoking was not something she had ever thought of trying and she knew her father would kill her if he ever found out she would do such a thing. However, she really liked Emily and didn’t want her to think she was lame. “So, let’s go out back then.” She flashed a smile she hoped would conceal the unease rippling through her.

  “Cool.”

  They sat together on the cobblestone stairs overlooking Millie’s backyard, watching the late afternoon sun stream through the lush green of the avocado tree that stood gallantly to the right side of the yard. Sunlight bounced bright among the ferns and the wild bushes in the garden, shooting striking reflections in all directions. The fading warmth of the rays seemed to bring a fresh shimmer of life that Millie found quite magnificent.

  “So, I guess your folks don’t like to garden huh?” Emily said, taking a cigarette out and lighting it.

  They both giggled and Millie watched Emily closely as she dragged on the cigarette before passing it over to her. She took the cigarette awkwardly between shaky fingers and slowly brought it towards her lips.

  “Nah, not lately. They used to keep the garden real nice,” she said, deliberately trying to bide her time on that first drag of smoke. “A lot of things have gone downhill around here lately,” she mumbled, almost to herself.

  Here goes nothing! Millie thought, as she began to draw on the lit cigarette. First instinct was to cough in disgust, but recovering quickly she relaxed and allowed the thick smoke to flow easily into her waiting lungs, before slowly exhaling as if she had performed the action a hundred times before.

  Emily eyed her with approval. “Well, I think, Miss Millie, that we should change that.”

  The girls sat on the rough surface of Millie’s back steps sharing the cigarette between them a few minutes longer. Emily told her that her family had moved to Rockton from interstate so her mother could be closer to her grandmother because she was unwell. Millie also learned that Emily was fifteen and that her sixteenth birthday was not too far off – a fact she was looking forward to. She also discovered that her new friend had two older brothers who belonged to her stepfather from a previous marriage, and that her real father had died when she was seven years old. “He was awesome and fun,” she’d told Millie wistfully, “but his taste for women and whiskey was beyond his control.”

  After her father’s death, her mother had turned back to being a devout born-again Christian. “Our life revolves around the church – literally,” Emily said. There was a clear distaste in Emily’s words when she had remarked on her mother. “I mean, she’s a complete fanatic, Millie. I have to go into deep battle to be able to express myself the way I want! Free will, right? Pfft! I cannot wait to grow old enough to move away from them.”

  Millie had shared a few things of her own with Emily. She revealed the depth of her terror when she and Ace had found their mother two weeks ago all beat up and bleeding in the bedroom. She confided how disturbing it was that nobody was saying who was responsible for her mother’s brutal attack. The intensity of the mood lifted when she mentioned coyly how she had a major crush on Damon Richards – the most gorgeous boy in school – but feared he would never kno
w the depth of her feelings. Millie found Emily so easy to talk to; she had never been so open with a friend before and she barely knew Emily, which both surprised and fascinated her. The little time they shared that Sunday afternoon, sharing a smoke and profound conversation, left both girls feeling the beginnings of the strong bond that had already invisibly paved its way between them.

  After Emily had left, Millie lingered upon the cobblestones for a while longer, soaking in the quiet beauty that nature displayed before her with a swell of appreciation dancing in her heart. She watched two butterflies with big black and blue wings flutter by before pausing in front of her and showing off their radiance as if trying to communicate the secret of their fluttery language. She voiced a “hello” to them as they hovered before her for a moment before fluttering about her head in quiet enchantment for a few minutes. They finally took a moment to rest on a leaf in the garden near where she sat. The charm she found among her surroundings heightened the wellbeing she experienced. She felt in tune with the butterflies and the trees in the garden, and when she heard the trees rustle in the breeze and the gentle chirping of birds, a great feeling of happiness washed over her.

  Millie found the special moment interrupted when she heard the front door open and the heavy fall of footsteps across the floor inside the house.

  “Goodbye beautiful butterflies,” she whispered, as her gaze scanned the unruly garden. “Goodbye garden.” She sprang to her feet and ran through the back-porch screen door, eager to greet her mother.

  Chapter Four

  November 22, 1987

  D ear Journal,

  Mum has been home from hospital for a week now; it’s good to have her back but she seems different. She is very quiet. The silences have grown longer within the crummy walls of this house... even when Dad’s not around. We haven’t yet had any of our usual night-time talks together either. It’s like she’s here – but not. She is somewhere else. Perhaps she is still stuck in that horrible hospital bed, but I hope this will pass soon, because I miss her still.

  On a higher note, I am loving having a new friend who lives so close to me. Emily and I are spending most afternoons together now, talking and going for walks to the bay and... smoking! I have discovered I actually like to smoke now; I must be growing up. Nobody around here has noticed anything different about me though. But I feel different. I am different. I feel like a happier person when I’m with Em. She is great company. What would I have done if she hadn’t shown up? Maybe her new presence in my life has something to do with the angel wings I saw in the bathroom that day, because I have always wished for a close friend like Emily. And now I have just that!

  I used to watch my parents closely as a child and wonder who they actually were, not the flesh and blood readily exposed to me, but as the beings beyond the physical that were visible to me. Who they were on the inside. I would often wonder who was behind the person I saw... I mean, it’s a valid question, right? Who are we really? I have a great knowing that I, Amelia Anderson, am not my name nor my body nor my failures or accomplishments for that matter. I am more than that. And so are my parents.

  Where is this coming from?

  Going to sleep now.

  Millie xx

  ***

  Lilly grimaced as she attempted to tie her hair back from her face. Ouch! Damn ribs, she thought, squeezing her eyes. Damn Glen. It had been three weeks since he had attacked her that Tuesday morning, not long after the kids had left for school. It all still lingered fresh in her mind, and in her body. She was shocked that her husband could turn on her in a rampage so savage; it was inhuman. She could do nothing to defend herself against his brute strength. He had thrown her about the house much like a child throwing a ragdoll in a fit of attention. Then, when his rage was finally quelled, she had watched his shadow through the slits of her swollen eyes as he walked away and left for work like any other day. He had left her broken body limp with relief and her heart torn with a feeling of powerlessness unlike anything she had experienced before.

  Since the assault, she could not help but relive the incident over and over in her mind, like the spinning reel of a badly shot horror film. They had been arguing. Their relationship had grown cold and distant and Lilly wanted something from him, anything from him other than a nod and a grunt here and there. She missed the closeness they had once shared despite Glen’s growing hostility, so she asked him whether there was somebody else and what had she done to make him so cold towards her. He met her questions with a steely glare and accusations suggesting she could not be doing her job as a wife to throw such “preposterous” questions at him. Then she said her name and said, “Well, I guess in your eyes I will never be good enough for you.” She had started to turn away to get ready to go to her pharmacy job, but threw in one last jibe – “… because I am not Samantha”. It was at that moment that he leaped to his feet and caught her unexpectedly in the attack.

  She peered back at her reflection in the mirror, carefully inspecting her effort at concealing the now light discolouration of her bruised skin. Satisfied, she applied a touch of natural pink coloured lipstick to the slight swell of her lips. This will do, nobody will know the difference, she thought flatly, then prepared to leave the house for her first day back at work since the assault. Lilly had worked at the local pharmacy since Ace had started school about four years ago. She liked working there with the other women, and her boss Harry Cornell was easy to work for. He understood that his employees had families and other commitments and he tried to accommodate these circumstances when the need arose for the people that worked for him. He knew Lilly had been in hospital but Harry and her colleagues were under the impression she had been involved in an accident. Lilly was unsure what to tell them when the questions would inevitably come, but she decided she would tell them nothing of the truth nonetheless. I told the police nothing; I can do that again, she mused as she strolled along her street towards the town’s main road. She had particularly liked the older of the two policemen who questioned her at the hospital. He had been very compassionate and his tired eyes showed her a kindness that was a rarity in her life. The policemen knew who had assaulted her and she knew they could not press charges without her. The senior officer had given Lilly his card and told her to call on him anytime she needed him. She had thought of his empathy as she tucked the card safely away in her purse.

  Lilly had no interest in pressing charges against her husband, as she knew if that were to happen, her time left would be short. Besides, she knew too much about his sordid past, about Samantha, for Glen to allow her to lock him away. She was also aware he would not allow her to divorce him. No, this situation had to be handled in the correct manner or next time she could end up just as she did. All those hours laying in that hospital bed gave her enough time to consider her next move and she intended to follow it through; her only regret would be for her children. She hesitated before reaching the pharmacy doors. She smoothed down the crisp white pharmacy uniform dress over her slim curves, removed her sunglasses and practised a meekly placed smile, then walked inside to start her work day with the breath of apprehension deep within her aching lungs.

  Her day would have been like any other work day had it not been for a beautiful arrangement of pale pink and white lilies delivered to her while she was serving a customer. She immediately knew they were from her husband. In their earlier years together, they were the only flowers he would ever buy her – “A beautiful lily for an even more beautiful Lilly,” he would say to her with that doe-eyed look that would send her heart fluttering with joy. Oh, how she had loved him! An all-consuming, intoxicating love. She would have done anything to please him, and she did, to an unthinkable extent no less. She believed every word that came out of his mouth, even when the whisper she heard within her told her otherwise. But now she was over believing his lies; she would no longer be his personal puppet waiting for the tips of his fleshy fingers to vivify her.

  The ladies around her gushed at the sight of
the bouquet. “My husband!” Lilly said, displaying her best sweet smile while resisting the urge to throw the flowers in the garbage. Instead, she arranged them in a glass vase and placed them to the side of the front counter for everyone to enjoy the sweet scent that emanated from them. The appearance of the flowers had prompted one of the other pharmacy assistants, Jenny, to ask what had happened.

  “So, are you okay, Lilly?” she asked, pushing her glasses up the ridge of her narrow nose. “I heard you were attacked; was it Glen, honey?”

  Lilly shot her a sharp glance. “Thanks Jenny; I’m good now,” she said, continuing to unpack a small box of medications that had just been delivered. “And no, I wasn’t attacked. It was a car accident, honey,” she said, her voice quivering with annoyance.

  “Oh dear!” Jenny stumbled. “That is quite horrible, Lilly. I’m sorry to have assumed differently; it’s just the girls … well, you know how girls can talk.”

  “That’s the problem with all those little tongues wagging, Jenny,” Lilly snapped. “Tales appear to grow as long as the tails on the dogs that entertain them.”

  Much to her relief, nobody dared mention the incident to her again.

  After she finished work for the day, Lilly strolled back along the main road. The street was filled with the noise of school children alighting from buses, chatting and laughing and in high spirits. There were the crowds pressing through the November heat, and going about their afternoon errands. Heavy traffic blanketed the warm air in a thick hazy cloud of exhaust fumes, adding to the discomfort felt by the ordinary wending their way through the street and oblivious to anything else going on. Lilly felt anything but ordinary. She had decided that ordinary was now behind her. A new focus encompassed her future. No longer will I live an ordinary existence, she thought, as she jostled past some teenagers gathered about in front of a milk bar. I will live with purpose and I shall live.

 

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