Numb

by Tanya Paterson

  “Hey Alex,” she smiled easily in return. It was definitely her. “Shut the door, will you.”

  I’d frozen in the middle of the doorway and the cool air inside the office was leeching out into the heat. I took another step inside, closed the door behind me and took a moment to get my bearings. Hayley was sitting at a desk pushed up against the wall with a computer in front of her and a stack of matching leather-bound books piled on the desk. She had a notepad to the side and was holding a pen, poised midair above the pad, as if she’d been interrupted mid-sentence. What was she doing in my uncle’s office?

  “Who did you have to kill to end up here?” I asked jokingly to cover my surprise.

  To my astonishment Hayley mouth fell open in surprise as her eyes widened in horror and alarm.

  “Just kidding,” I said quickly, looking away, abashed.

  What was that about?

  “Good afternoon Alex,” Margaret said pleasantly. “Did you not know Hayley works for your uncle?”

  “No, Charles never mentioned it.”

  “That’s because I thought you knew.” My uncle appeared in the doorway to his private office. He smiled warmly at me.

  “Hi Alex. Everything ok?”

  “Yes, I just thought I’d…drop in…to see if you had time for coffee?” I stammered, trying to remember why I’d come. I was having trouble thinking when Hayley was sitting just two metres away.

  “Coffee?” Charles eyed my half empty juice cup suspiciously and raised his eyebrows. “I always have time for coffee. And I always have time for my favourite nephew.”

  “I’m your only nephew.”

  Charles grinned “One and the same.” He then glanced at Hayley. “Would you like to join us Hayley?”

  I looked at her quickly in alarm. I was out of sorts, like I always was when I didn’t have time to prepare myself for her, and as much as I wanted to see her, I need time to process the fact that she and my uncle not only knew each other, they worked together. How much of my past did she know? The panic I felt must have shown on my face because she frowned slightly before turning to my uncle with a smile. “Um, no thanks, I need to finish up before I go.”

  Charles noticed her reaction, or perhaps he finally noticed the strange vibe in the air because he looked back at me as if he was having a lightbulb moment.

  “Ok then, let’s go Alex.” He gestured towards the door.

  “Don’t forget you have a 4.30,” Margaret said.

  Charles checked his watch. “No probs,” he replied slipping easily into slang. “I’ll be back in plenty of time.”

  I allowed myself another glance at Hayley. She was still frowning at me. “See you later, Alex.”

  “Bye.”

  I nodded to Hayley and reluctantly, and at the same time slightly relieved, followed Charles down the stairs and to a café which was set at the back of a small arcade near Airlie’s artificial lagoon.

  How much did Hayley know? Was she privy to all my secrets?

  While Charles ordered coffees at the counter, I found a table outside under the cool shade of a parasol. The lagoon had been built for tourists. Despite its name and entrenched reputation as a major tourist destination, Airlie Beach lacked a proper sandy beach for sunbathing or swimming. The tiny stretch of pebbly sand it did have wasn’t long or deep enough to support the hoards of backpackers and families that swamped the town in summer, so the council created a decent swimming spot before tourists moved onto to a more desirable beach location somewhere else along the Whitsunday Coast.

  The lagoon was actually pretty cool, like a mini resort, with several interconnected kidney-shaped swimming pools in a large landscaped park. There were sandy beaches, shaded picnic areas, free barbecues and grassy spots for sunbathers to lay their towels. On the northern end of the park was a children’s pool and playground near a tiny crescent-shaped bay that offered water sports equipment for hire. I’d been hoping to try out the jet skis one weekend once physiotherapist gave me the all-clear.

  My phone chimed with a new text. It was Ally asking if she could come over to mine that evening and I sighed. Even in England, I’d kept my friends and girlfriends at arms length and rarely invited them to my house and never once had a girl in my room. It was the one place I could be myself, my sole sanctuary, and I wanted to keep it that way: private. I liked Ally, but having her in my space, on my bed, seemed wrong. Too intimate. Which was ironic, considering we’d been very ‘intimate’. I’d just finished replying that I would go to hers instead when Charles brought the coffees to the table and sat across from me.

  “Is everything okay, Alex?” he asked, never one to mess around.

  “Of course. Everything’s fine. I had some time to kill and thought I’d drop in, say hi.”

  “Oh,” Charles said, holding my gaze for just a second longer than necessary before noticeably relaxing, satisfied with my answer. “Hi back at you.” He smiled warmly. “How’s school?”

  “It’s…different,” I admitted. “But I can handle it.”

  “I know you can. If you need anything – anything – just ask, ok?”

  “I will.”

  “Hayley says you have a free period in the library together.”

  So they had spoken about me.

  “We do,” I cautiously replied. “I didn’t know she worked for you.”

  “Only a few hours a week for about a year or so now. I remember when she came to me looking for a job,” he smiled at the memory. “‘So you want to be a lawyer?’ I said, and Hayley replied in this very serious voice, ‘no, I want to help people’ which surprised me because it’s not what you’d expect someone to say, especially an unusual looking teenager. So I’m thinking this over and say ‘hmmm, okay’, to fill the silence more than anything, but she misunderstood me and thought I was saying yes to a job because the next thing, she sat down at the desk next to Margaret’s and said ‘good, I’ll start today if that’s alright’.” Charles roared with laughter at the memory. “She’s quite a character.”

  “She’s definitely something.”

  “I’m glad you two are friends,” he made it sound like a question and I knew then he was digging. They hadn’t spoken about me after all. I let out an internal sigh. My secrets were safe.

  When I didn’t say anything further he pushed the topic a little further.

  “She’s a nice girl, Hayley.” I understood his meaning, he wanted me to tread carefully with her.

  “I know she is,” I agreed.

  He nodded, satisfied.

  “So, how are you getting on with the other kids at school?”

  I also welcomed the change in topic. I wasn’t ready to talk to him or anyone for that matter about my confusing feeling for Hayle.

  “Everything’s fine. Everyone here is very likeable, very welcoming.”

  “Australians are. There’s none of that posing and posturing of the English. Actually they’re so laid back they’re practically horizontal – especially in North Queensland,” Charles laughed at his joke.

  “But don’t you miss it though? I mean the city…Melbourne? It’s so isolated here.”

  Charles looked thoughtfully into his coffee for a moment before he replied.

  “No, I don’t miss it at all. After Matthew’s death….Melbourne was full of memories. Everything reminded us of him and they weren’t happy memories. So we moved here to start afresh. I wish we’d done it a long, long time ago, before…you know….” he sighed, looking out over the lagoon. We sat for a moment with our thoughts, sipping the still too hot coffee which always took ages to cool in the tropical heat. After a while Charles said, “Matthew loved it up here.”

  I’d been away at school when Matthew died. My mother had flown out for the funeral, and even my father had taken time out of his busy schedule to attend. It was one of only two times in his entire career when he’d taken a leave of absence. The other time had been recently when I was in hospital. It takes something that big to get their attention.

&nbs
p; My uncle and aunt were obviously still devastated by Matthew’s suicide. My mother had also been upset but she was really was more worried about the scandal of a drug overdose. I remember being impressed. Matthew had found an escape, a way out, freedom. It’s what I’d wanted too – even then. But now, years later, I wondered if there was another alternative.

  Could there be another way out?

  Charles and Maria moved to the Whitsundays for a new beginning and fresh start. They’d turned their backs on their old lives and built new ones which didn’t revolve around power and money and lies. They were happy now.

  Was it possible I could find what I wanted here too?

  The thought was so desirable yet impossible that I quickly pushed it from my mind. I knew from experience there was no point in getting my hopes up. To change my life I needed to be the one in control and if I’d learnt anything from being sent to the Whitsundays, it was that I had no control over my fate.

  CHAPTER 17

  HAYLEY

  Despite Mr Evans, our blander-than-beige teacher, English was my favourite subject. We’d been studying George Orwell’s 1984. I knew it was considered a classic and one of the most critically important books in a generation but I hated it. The whole book made me despair. There was nothing positive in Orwell’s future. No happy ending. No hope. I couldn’t welcome the idea that there was no good in his world, not even hope. Without hope, what was there left to live for?

  My English teacher loved Orwell. Mr Evans’ anaesthetically monotone voice had become unusually animated and excited. I suspected he shared Orwell’s bleak and hopeless view of the future and that perversely excited him. I spent most of the class trying to decide what was more frightening – Orwell’s big brother or an enthusiastic Mr Evans. It was a close contest.

  We’d been discussing the book for the first half of the class but most people weren’t paying attention and were whispering to their neighbour or furtively texting under the desk. Mr Evans continued on regardless.

  “If you haven’t finished ‘1984’ then I suggest you make haste and do so promptly. I will be distributing your assignment at the end of this class – 2,000 words due next month.” A chorus of groans; some people were listening after all. “There will also be at least one essay question on the book, not the film, in your final exam so I cannot hint strongly enough how important it is to read the book. Sample question,” he began reading from the paper in front of him, “discuss the idea of doublethink as a form of control…bonus points if you can give a modern example….Alex?”

  My eyes immediately refocused on Alex as did most people’s – he commanded that level of attention.

  Of course, he was also the main reason I’d been looking forward to Mr Evans’ class more than ever. English was the one class, besides our joint library period, I shared with Alex. I spent most of my time surreptitiously staring at Alex, sometimes catching him frowning at the sunshine outside or doodling in his notebook, before I’d berate myself for not paying better attention and force my eyes back to Mr Evans. And then I would find my eyes drawn back to his seat before I’d make myself look away again. This lasted the whole period. There was no contest for my attention when Alex was in the room. He commanded 99% of it and I was equally distracted by him and annoyed that he was distracting me.

  Today, Alex sat in his usual spot one row down and across the aisle next to John Hills, a tall, lanky boy whose family owned a cane farm not far from my house. They were two of the few people actually paying attention or they at least they were good at feigning interest.

  Alex looked up from his notebook to answer Mr Evans. “False beliefs are as evident today as they are in ‘1984’. Everyday we are brainwashed with doublespeak like ‘money means happiness’, ‘shopping is recreation’, ‘credit is hope’ that we’ve stopped questioning the reasons why we act the way we do or why we even exist.”

  “Very good, Alex. Anyone else wish to contribute?” Mr Evans asked, looking around the room.

  “And the notions of free thought and free will,” Alex continued, the words rushing out as his face became more animated, “are impossible fantasies as much today as they were in ‘1984’. Every aspect of Winston’s life is controlled and suppressed. The same is true today, especially for people our age. Like Winston, we’re merely Big Brother’s puppets, except our Big Brother is our parents or our teachers or our consumerist western lifestyle….these are the forces that control us and force us into submission and compliance – ” he stopped suddenly, bowing his head to his notebook and grimacing as his cheeks flushed.

  My gaze locked on Alex. His head was hung low, his mouth set in a hard line as he clenched his lips tightly closed. Alex never spoke this passionately in class or even in private. It looked like he regretted it. I didn’t. It was another glimpse into the real Alex.

  “Yes, excellent, Alex,” Mr Evans nodded once more, appraisingly, before looking around the room and calling on Jenny Carpenter with another question but as he did the bell rang. The room was a flurry of activity and chatter as people grabbed their books, chairs scraping as they stood and made their way to the door.

  “Collect your assignment on the way out and finish the book,” Mr Evans shouted above the din, punctuating the last three words.

  I stayed glued to my seat as my classmates fled into the sunshine. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t take my eyes off Alex who was still looking down at his desk, letting his hair fall like a curtain across his eyes as if that would help conceal his thoughts. But it was too late. I’d heard them loud and clear.

  Could Alex’s life really be so terrible?

  He was the type of guy who appeared to have everything, but was it all superficial? Mere costume and props? An imagine popped into my head – Alex standing in a vast closet full of clothes, wondering which costume he was going to wear as if the clothes would dictate who he was going to be that day. Even though every outfit fit him perfectly and he had the gestures and script memorised, Alex was an actor, delivering someone else’s lines, and moving across the stage as instructed.

  I blinked back to reality and we were alone in the classroom. Even Mr Evans had left. Alex gathered his books and glanced once at me as he made his way to the door. I smiled sympathetically but he kept his face blank. He’d given enough away already.

  CHAPTER 18

  ALEX

  Typically, Friday night in London would have been spent partying at one of Knightsbridge’s exclusive members-only clubs ringing up a bar tab in the hundreds or thousands. Friday night in Airlie Beach was a world away. A group of people from school in shorts and t-shirts at the all-you-can-eat buffet at the Golden Dragon Chinese Restaurant. I was on a rollercoaster of a life. I stopped anticipating the climb to the top, and stopped fighting the plummet to the bottom. Instead I gave in and allowed the ride to carry me through the twists and turns until I didn’t know which way was up or down. It wasn’t like I could shout ‘stop, I want to get off’. I was just a passenger in the carriage – wherever it took me.

  Around forty had turned up for Dave’s eighteenth birthday dinner and there were dozens more expected at a party at his house in a couple of weeks. Dave told me his dad worked in the mines and wasn’t around that often, but unfortunately he was home that weekend so Dave’s house party was delayed until we were guaranteed there would be no parental interference. Not that that was apparently an issue. From what else I heard Dave inherited his wild side from his father.

  Celebrations had begun in earnest two hours after the final school bell rang with shots of tequila at a backpackers bar on Main Street so by the time we’d arrived at the restaurant we were well on our way to wasted. No doubt, everyone would get a lot messier before the night was out. There were mini-buses on standby to take most people back to Proserpine so there were no obstacles to getting hammered.

  Despite my initial reservations, I was enjoying myself – but that might have been down to the pharmaceuticals dancing in my blood. I hadn’t had the chance to let off steam
since the accident and I wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to forget all the shit that had happened to me the previous few months. My parents had intended my exile would teach me a valuable lesson – actions had consequences. But I didn’t need to be reminded of what a screw up I was. I needed to forget.

  The restaurant was at the far end of Main Street, above a gift shop overlooking the small beach. They’d allocated us a long table away from the other diners out on the balcony, and the heat, although not as fierce as during the day, was only bearable because of the cool easterly breeze that blew in from the sea, bringing with it the scent of salt and fish.

  Ally took my hand and led me to seats near the middle of the table. She would want us to be at the heart of things near Krista and Dave. The girls I went out with always enjoyed being the centre of attention, it was one of the reasons why they were attracted to me in the first place; I had plenty of cash and didn’t mind spending it. That got people’s attention. I was under no illusions – I knew my credit card was more popular than I was.

  “Hi everyone, I have your drink menus.”

  I flinched as if I’d been slapped, suddenly as sober as a minister on Sunday morning. Hayley stood at the end of the table, nodding hello to various people and I briefly caught her quick and slightly nervous smile before I looked down at Ally’s hand resting on my thigh while I tried to calm the stuttering in my chest. Shit! Hayley always had this effect on me when she appeared unexpectedly like that morning at the pool when I’d been so tongue-tied I had to flee into the changing rooms like a pre-pubescent tween.

  What is she doing here?

  Someone passed me a menu and when I looked up I noticed the stack in Hayley’s hands. Then I realised she was wearing a red t-shirt shirt printed with the Golden Dragon logo and had a black apron tied around her waist.

  “Are you working tonight, Hayley?” asked Kylie, echoing my thoughts.