No One Can Hear You

by Nikki Crutchley

  She knew how to fight. She’d forgotten that. She was tough. She could get past Tai. She had to. There was nothing in the room apart from a mattress, a bucket and the wooden shelves taking up three walls, but she soon learnt they weren’t even nailed down. She picked up one of the boards. It was about a metre long and hand span wide. She held it, testing its weight. It was light enough for her to swing with force but heavy enough to do some damage.

  Chapter 27

  Zoe was climbing into bed just after ten when there was a loud bang on the front door. She walked down the hall slowly, watching the frosted glass vibrate as whoever was on the other side continued assaulting the door. Could it be Richard Bailey? No. She looked at the blurred figure, arm raised, about to break through her door. Too small.

  ‘Who is it?’ Zoe said, in what she hoped was a firm voice.

  ‘It’s Faith.’

  Zoe opened the door. Faith had a bottle of vodka hanging from her hand, her eye make-up was smudged and lipstick smeared, but she had a smile on her face.

  ‘Thought we could catch up,’ she said, waving the bottle, which by the looks of its contents and her slightly slurred speech she had already started.

  Zoe invited her in. It was hard to reconcile the girl she once knew who used to hang out in her bedroom and blow cigarette smoke out the window so as not to alert Lillian, with this woman. She looks damaged, sad. Zoe remembered what she’d seen at the cemetery that afternoon. Angry. Faith had looked angry as she leant over Gabe Baker’s gravesite and spat into it. Maybe she’d get the whole story tonight.

  ‘Faith, are you OK?’

  ‘Yes, course I am.’ She came out of the kitchen with two glasses. Sitting on the couch she erupted into laughter and picked up a coaster bearing a young, fresh-faced Elvis Presley. ‘My God, I remember these. She still has them!’

  Zoe giggled. As teenagers the three of them had made fun of Lillian’s obsession with Elvis behind her back.

  ‘We used to tease you that you could’ve been the King’s daughter. Lillian had more of his crap around than your actual father’s.’

  ‘You got that right,’ Zoe said, and they clinked glasses.

  Faith sipped on her drink. ‘This room hasn’t changed a bit since I was here last. Still boring as shit.’

  ‘Yeah. You’re right.’

  ‘Do you remember that party we went to? Me, you and Alex. Out at the lake.’

  Zoe remembered the night.

  ‘We got so drunk,’ Faith said, not seeing the irony in her statement.

  Someone had organised a keg out at the lake. About thirty of them had gathered together one weekend. Underage drinking and a large body of water. Not the brightest of ideas. But nothing too bad had happened. A lot of drunk kids and a bit of skinny-dipping.

  ‘Shit, I think Alex drove that night, didn’t he? Pretty sure he was wasted. Then we all came home and stayed here. Where was Lillian?’ Faith said as though she’d just remembered after almost twenty years later to ask.

  ‘Some conference, I guess.’ It was just another weekend where Lillian had been missing. ‘You passed out on that exact couch.’

  Faith giggled at the memory, which turned into raucous laughter. Zoe smiled. It had been a good night.

  ‘How is Alex, anyway?’

  ‘He’s fine. He’s great. He works at the high school as a counsellor.’

  ‘Fuck off! No! Alex Buchanan, smoker of weed and reader of pornos, is now a high-school counsellor.’ Faith finished her drink and poured another.

  ‘I guess we’re all different now,’ Zoe said. ‘It’s been a long time.’

  ‘So do you see him much?’

  Zoe sipped her drink, wincing as the cheap vodka burned down her throat. ‘I left Crawton when I was eighteen, to go to uni. We had a bit to do with each other for those three years but then I went overseas and we lost contact. It’s only since I’ve been back that we’ve caught up.’

  Faith nodded and put her glass down for the first time. ‘So you two went to uni. I always wondered what had happened to you. You guys always had a plan. Even back then. Uni. Careers. Travel. That was never going to be on the cards for me. You were lucky.’

  Zoe bristled. She hated the word ‘lucky’. It implied she’d won some sort of cosmic lottery, which she hadn’t. She’d worked hard to get what she had — car, career, flat, travel. But then she looked over at Faith. She’d never had a chance.

  ‘What happened, Faith?’ Zoe asked gently, sensing that she might not want to talk about it.

  Faith picked up her drink and drained it again. She sat up straight, bracing herself. ‘Gabe Baker happened.’

  Zoe frowned. ‘What do you mean? How did you know him?’

  ‘He took me.’ Faith looked as though she would tear up but looked away and sniffed. The face she presented to Zoe when she looked back at her was emotionless.

  ‘What do you mean, he took you? Alex and I were told you ran away.’

  ‘I did. But before then. So you and Alex noticed I was missing? I always thought you would. Kind of thought you’d come looking for me.’ She picked up her glass but put it down again, slumping against the couch.

  ‘Faith, I don’t understand what you’re saying.’

  ‘I don’t really remember how it happened, but one night I left Sonya’s house and the next thing I remember is waking up in some house out by Mosely’s Hill. There were bars on the window. I was locked in the room. I can’t remember who took me or where I’d gone after I’d left Sonya’s. There’s a gap. A great black gaping hole in my memory. And for all those years there’s been nothing. Not even a whisper, a hint of who took me.’ Faith stared at the wall in front of her. ‘Gabe, he called himself the Magic Man, he brought me food and water.’ She reached around and caressed her scalp. ‘He was mean, violent. There was another girl there too. Her name was Claire. They took her away.’ She swiped at a solitary tear that ran down her cheek, pressing her hand into her face.

  ‘They?’

  She took a deep breath. ‘It wasn’t just Gabe. He was working for someone. Doing their dirty work, I reckon. Anyway, I was determined not to go where they’d taken Claire, wherever the fuck that was, and so I escaped.’

  ‘Faith—’

  ‘It’s OK.’ She picked up her glass with a trembling hand.

  It’s clearly not OK, thought Zoe. ‘How did you escape?’

  ‘Managed to break the window. Sliced that motherfucker up real good and ran for it.’

  Zoe remembered the photo of Gabe Baker she’d seen, the jagged scar on his face. That had been Faith. ‘And you don’t remember anything about who took you?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘And why you?’

  ‘I always figured I was easy pickings. New to town, no real family or friends.’

  ‘Hey,’ Zoe said. ‘You had friends.’

  Faith shrugged. ‘I figured if they took me, maybe they thought people wouldn’t make too much of a fuss. Probably just thought I’d done a runner.’

  ‘That’s exactly what Sonya said.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You hadn’t been at school for a couple of days. Alex and I thought you might be cutting so we went round to Sonya’s to see you.’

  ‘You did?’

  ‘Of course we did.’

  ‘What did Sonya say?’

  ‘She pretty much implied you’d done a runner. She wasn’t worried, exactly. She’d contacted the police but they knew of your record and I think they were keeping an eye out, but Sonya had said something about you being a—’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘A lost cause.’

  Faith took another swig of her vodka. ‘Huh.’ She didn’t seem surprised by the statement.

  ‘So what happened after you escaped?’

  ‘I got back to Sonya’s at night and climbed in
through the window and fell asleep on my bed. I was terrified Gabe would find me but the thought of being home and in my own bed was such a relief — I just crashed. I woke up the next morning. Sonya tore shreds off me. I didn’t get much of a word in. It wasn’t like I was going to tell her what happened.’

  ‘Why not? You could’ve gone straight to the police.’

  ‘Nah.’ Faith shook her head, frowning. ‘You don’t get it. I wasn’t like you, from a good family. I had history, history that everyone — teachers, cops, social workers — all knew about. Whoever I went to wouldn’t believe me. Shit, just telling you the story it seems unbelievable. After breakfast that morning I got a phone call from someone.’

  ‘Gabe?’ Zoe asked, drawing herself forward onto the edge of the couch.

  ‘Nah, someone else. He sounded so kind at the start. He said that they’d let me go on purpose. That they could easily find me if they wanted to. He said they didn’t want me. That I was too much trouble. He said if I went to the cops, he’d know. If I told Sonya, he’d know. If I talked to friends or teachers, he’d know. He told me to pretend it didn’t happen. He told me to consider it a compliment, that I was too strong. His last words to me were, “Just forget.” How does a sixteen-year-old forget something like that?’

  Faith was yelling now, tears running unheeded down her face. ‘Whoever they were ruined my life, ruined Claire’s life. Fuck, they probably killed her. And what about the girls who came before Claire and me, and the ones who came after us? They had something going on, Zoe, I know it. I wasn’t the first and I wasn’t the last.’

  Zoe reached over and placed a hand on Faith’s knee, and Faith moved so that Zoe’s hand fell off. Point taken, she thought.

  ‘And so I ran. I left a note for Sonya. As she said, I was a lost cause. I made it to Wellington, lived rough for a bit — you don’t need the details, believe me.’ Her smile was more like a grimace.

  Zoe hated to think what sixteen-year-old Faith had had to do to get by in a city where she didn’t know anyone.

  ‘Eventually a café owner took pity on me and I used to work the shitty weekend shifts. She had a storage room out the back and let me stay there. Eventually I saved up enough to rent a room by the week. I got more experience and eventually landed a job at a poncy restaurant on Cuba Street and I’ve been there ever since, trying to escape what happened to me. But it’s always with me. I could go half way around the world and the fuckin’ Magic Man would still be breathing down my neck, Claire’s screams would still be echoing in my fucking ears.’

  Zoe came and sat beside Faith, who again tensed up. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. What was she supposed to say after such a revelation? While she and Alex had missed their friend, as soon as their final year got underway they gradually forgot her. Faith, one of their good friends, a runaway, someone they assumed they’d never see again.

  And then she remembered Faith’s words: ‘Easy pickings, new to town, no real friends or family.’ Megan. Tania. ‘Shit,’ she whispered.

  ‘What?’ Faith asked. Her eyes were red-rimmed and she swiped at her nose with her hand.

  Zoe passed her a tissue. ‘You think this could still be going on?’ she asked.

  Faith shrugged. ‘I just remember the way Gabe talked. Like he was filling orders for someone. Why?’

  Zoe started pacing the carpet.

  ‘Zoe?’ Faith looked up at her, expectant.

  ‘It’s probably nothing,’ Zoe said, but she was sick of pushing her instincts down, sick of blaming Lillian’s illness. ‘These two girls, Megan and Tania, they’ve gone missing.’

  ‘Who are they? Friends of yours?’

  ‘No. Lillian knew them.’ Zoe went on to explain what she’d found. Garth, Tai, Max Vincent. She explained the two girls’ backgrounds. It all sounded too familiar.

  ‘It’s happening again,’ Faith whispered.

  ‘Or it never stopped.’

  Faith groaned. ‘It was supposed to be over. After I saw he was dead, it was going to be the end of it for me. The sleepless nights, the nightmares, the panic attacks. I thought once I saw his coffin in the ground I’d be done. Time to start fresh.’ She lay her head down on the couch. ‘But it’s not over, is it?’

  Zoe put a blanket over her. ‘It’s OK, Faith.’ It seemed a pitiful thing to say when everything was far from being OK. Faith closed her eyes and mumbled something.

  Zoe sat in her chair for another ten minutes, listening to Faith gently snoring. Lillian was right. Of course she was. Girls had gone missing, and it was still happening after what? Twenty years? More? Zoe froze in her chair, her thoughts like a punch to the gut. She knew for sure now that Lillian hadn’t committed suicide. She was killed because she knew too much.

  Chapter 28

  Small parts of Crawton on a Wednesday night were teeming. Around the small hub of restaurants on the main street people left bars and entered restaurants. Younger ones, appearing preloaded, roamed in separate packs heading to the two bars that offered music. The smell of cigarette smoke, perfume and alcohol saturated the air around them. Zoe looked at the women passing her, tottering on high heels. Their age blurry, with make-up covering pimples, wrinkles, under-eye bags and freckles. Some trying to knock a few years off what was stated on their driver’s licence, others trying to add more to seem more worldly, mature. In the end they all looked like twenty-somethings and the only way Zoe could guess their ages was by hemlines: the young ones, she deduced, had nothing to hide.

  Faith had gone before Zoe got up that morning. She was disappointed. She wanted to talk more, to see if they could form some sort of plan. But she realised Faith was scared. She wanted to ring her but had no idea where she was staying.

  Dan was already at the restaurant. She weaved her way through the diners towards the back, meeting Dan’s eye, smiling. She was determined to enjoy herself, but Faith’s revelation and the realisation that Lillian hadn’t committed suicide had scattered her thoughts. Most people would approach the police, but she couldn’t risk it after finding out about Max Vincent and his connection to Garth and Tai. Maybe she could speak to someone else at the station — but who? She considered telling Dan, but he might think she was crazy.

  ‘Hi, Zoe.’ Dan stood up as she seated herself. A gentleman. She liked that.

  She forced herself to focus as she sat down, and they ordered drinks. She was thankful that he was chatty and didn’t seem to notice too much that she wasn’t contributing to the conversation. Halfway through a story about his skiing trip down south last winter his phone rang. ‘Bugger. Sorry. I meant to turn this off.’ He looked at the screen. ‘I should probably take this.’

  ‘Of course,’ she said, and sipped her wine.

  ‘Ashley. Hi. You OK?’ There was silence as he listened.

  Zoe took the chance to look at him without being noticed. His skin was dark brown and freshly shaved. His eyes were hazel and at this moment look worried. His white teeth grazed his bottom lip. He said, ‘You know you don’t need to worry. Your times out on the lake this morning were lightning-fast, your technique is near-perfect. You’re going to be fine.’

  He shook his head as he ended the call. ‘Sorry about that. Ashley’s one of my top scullers. Going through a crisis of confidence.’

  ‘She has your mobile number?’ Zoe tried not to let alarm bells ring.

  ‘I know, a little bit unconventional, but I know her parents. It’s all above board, honest.’ He placed his hands up in front of him, smiling.

  ‘So you like your job?’ she asked. ‘Working with kids?’ She needed to put some effort into the conversation or he’d think something was up — which it was.

  ‘Yeah. It’s what I was always meant to do. Although it’s not the easiest of jobs, I don’t need to tell you that. The boys are fine. The younger ones look at me as a father figure, the older ones a brother — a mind-numbingly boring and strict brother.’


  Zoe smiled. She liked the self-deprecation. He wore it well.

  ‘The girls are harder. They’re mostly fine, I guess. But,’ he rubbed a hand through his hair, ‘teenage girls. Need I say more?’

  ‘Have you ever had problems? Any that have got too close?’

  ‘Yeah, once or twice over the years. That’s when they get sent off to Lillian.’ He glanced up at her, checking. ‘Or Alex now. You want to protect them, help them. You want them to trust you.’

  ‘I imagine Alex would sort them out,’ Zoe said. ‘He’s always been such an empathetic person.’

  They ate their mains in companionable silence but Zoe kept finding her thoughts wandering back to Faith.

  ‘How are you getting on?’ Dan suddenly asked. ‘After your mum’s death?’

  Zoe didn’t know how to answer. ‘I never really called her mum. She was always Lillian to me. When I started high school, she said it was probably best if I called her Mrs Haywood at school. To avoid confusion, she said.’ That was it, that day — the last disconnect, a pair of scissors cutting through a thread that had been perilously close to snapping anyway. Even at thirteen, Zoe felt their worlds splitting off from each other.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said slowly. ‘I feel a bit lost. To be honest, I forget she’s dead sometimes. The day I left Crawton I forgot her and she forgot me.’

  ‘You can’t be serious? You just forgot your mother?’

  ‘You didn’t know her.’

  ‘I worked with her for almost five years.’

  ‘OK, you didn’t know the Lillian I knew. Let’s put it like that.’ Zoe prickled with anger.

  ‘She really did look after the kids at school, you know?’ Dan said, as if trying to sway her around to ‘team Lillian’.

  ‘Well, that’s great for the kids of Crawton. But she kinda fucked up my life.’ She knew she sounded harsh.