The Good Teacher

by Petronella McGovern

  There was another beach party at Curl Curl tomorrow night—the girl who’d nearly drowned reckoned she could sneak out and get down there. She promised not to swim. Felix wouldn’t go. He was working on his Bronze Cross, the level up from his Bronze Medallion. The next time someone was in trouble, Felix would be using his skills, not running away.

  All that training at the gym had made him stronger too. Darcy had bought some more of the creatine supplement to bulk up, but Felix wasn’t so keen. His body had been feeling better without the protein powders.

  ‘I think they gave me the shits, you know, literally. And they made my pimples worse.’

  Mum had asked for his help with this big community day—that could be his excuse for skipping the party on Saturday night.

  And Mum and Dad were both coming to his soccer game tomorrow morning. They’d be standing on the sideline together. He might invite Pearl along as well.

  52

  LUKE

  No-one appreciated how clever he’d been. The amount he’d learnt for Gracie’s cancer—chemo drugs, immunotherapy drugs, symptoms and side effects, all the terminology. Did they know how much time and effort that had taken? They should be calling him Dr Branson.

  After Detective Rejman had figured out his identity and tracked down his family, the assumption was that Luke had stolen the idea from his nephew with leukaemia. Bullshit. He’d been collecting information years before, when he was still working at the hospital in Melbourne. Assessing which patients received the most sympathy, which ones people really cared about. At the time, he was dabbling in Medicare fraud but that had been boring and left too much of a paper trail. More interest and drama around sick kids.

  The detective had asked him about other scams but Luke refused to answer any questions, apart from one.

  ‘Did you harm your child?’

  ‘No, I never hurt Gracie.’

  As if he would. They couldn’t paint him as an abusive father; Luke was a good dad. He’d shaved Gracie’s head, that was all. And given her so much more. Made her into a special girl, the centre of a community, a life worth saving. Allison would tell them how much he cared for his daughter. Although she might be a little confused about some things. Gracie didn’t have an allergy to sesame oil but he’d taken her to the hospital that night anyway. Hung out in the waiting room as a cover story. He’d played Ally’s guilt perfectly; that episode had driven her into the manic fundraising and handing over cash.

  The only drugs Gracie had taken were the ones given to her by Ally and Maz. Twice as far as he could tell—when Gracie had been sick with the cold. He would’ve stopped them if he’d been aware. Interfering women going behind his back. Particularly Maz. She didn’t even know what was in her supplements. He’d never risk giving anything like that to Gracie. Was Maz still running scared about his letter? He’d asked her to visit but she hadn’t yet. Luke reckoned there was a slim chance he could get her back onside.

  Chelsea, though, was a different story.

  She had a right to be angry, unlike the rest of them. The ones in Wirriga had only lost little bits of money—fifty dollars here, five hundred, a thousand. They could afford it. And it wasn’t as though he’d hurt anyone.

  His solicitor said they’d tracked Chelsea down through that horse stud at Hythorne. But he was still surprised when her request had come. He tried to get a message back to her. I’ll only allow you to visit if you bring Gracie.

  The remand centre at Silverwater wasn’t the best place for his daughter but he needed to see her. She’d been his sidekick for so long. He asked his solicitor to tell Chelsea: We can meet in the cafe. I’ll buy Gracie some ice-cream. It won’t feel like a jail. Apart from the wire fences and the guards and the cameras and the security screening.

  Luke had hoped and hoped, but Chelsea turned up alone. Thinner than when he’d left, dark circles under her eyes.

  ‘You arsehole,’ she hissed. ‘I can’t believe you did that to me. I had to see with my own eyes that you were alive.’

  ‘I’m so ashamed,’ he said. ‘Please forgive me. I lost your life savings.’

  ‘You didn’t lose it. You stole it. Along with my child. And every happiness I had.’

  ‘I was going through a terrible time, Chelsea. I’m so sorry. You know the real me. I think I had a schizophrenic episode.’

  ‘Bullshit. I’m going to get all my money back while you rot in jail.’

  Surely she wouldn’t find it; he’d hidden it too well.

  ‘How’s our gorgeous Gracie?’ he asked. ‘I miss her so much.’

  ‘You’re never seeing her again.’

  The visit lasted less than a minute.

  Would his parents visit too? They must know about Gracie by now. He’d always implied that he didn’t have time for long-term relationships; the aid work was too busy and too unpredictable. At the thought of his family meeting Gracie without him, Luke balled his hands into fists. She was his.

  He had to talk to his solicitor, stop them from seeing Gracie and stop that detective from uncovering his other schemes. He’d erased all evidence of the bushfire fundraiser for a young couple to rebuild their home. He’d destroyed the documents related to Jack, a patient he befriended in the same hospital where he’d met Chelsea. Jack had put in thousands to help set up a physio clinic. Sadly, there were issues with the rental of the building and all the money had ‘sunk into the real estate costs’.

  Luke’s former girlfriend and her parents had invested in a new American start-up selling gym and physio equipment. They’d consoled each other when the business went bankrupt; Luke, or Jason as he’d been known then, had lost all his own savings as well. That was ten years ago and they’d never come looking. His schemes were as watertight as possible.

  He never would’ve imagined Allison getting on that plane to Chicago.

  This was all her fault. The good teacher going too far.

  Maybe he’d send a letter from Zack’s parents to the Department of Education complaining that Mrs Walsh was bullying their boy because of the robbery. To do that, he’d need a computer.

  Luke had been given a few options for ‘working’ in the remand centre. When he heard the word ‘technology’, he chose that. But no, he was put into a workshop to refurbish airline headsets. To rub it in that they weren’t flying anywhere soon. Not a computer in sight. No chance to research his way out of here. Last year, he’d done some reading on mental health and personality disorders. Which one would help his cause? Schizophrenia? Bipolar? Severe depression? He just had to get his solicitor to present it in the right way.

  53

  ALLISON

  Allison and Felix were discussing a move to a smaller house. Felix really wanted to be able to walk to the beach with his surf board. Allison imagined a little place in Wirriga with a bright open study looking onto the bush; somewhere she could start creating her picture books about trees and wallabies and wombats. That would be her first series—on night-time noises and fighting a fear of the dark. Next year, she’d do a road trip with Felix to see Gracie and create a series set in a small country town recovering from bushfire. A spotlight on resilience and bouncing back.

  Tony invited them for dinner to his new apartment at Freshwater.

  ‘Have you heard from Helena?’ Allison managed to ask without sounding bitter.

  ‘Yes, she’s doing well. Feeling positive about her new home.’

  ‘And you’re sure she didn’t know Luke?’

  It was one of Allison’s many theories in her quest to understand how Luke had come to Wirriga. According to the detectives, Luke had chosen Wirriga by chance. He’d never been there before, didn’t know anyone. But something must have made him enrol Gracie in Wirriga Public School.

  ‘Helena has never heard of him.’

  At the end of the evening, as they were leaving the apartment, Tony kissed her cheek.

  ‘Thank you for coming,’ he said. ‘I really appreciate it. I know it’s probably too late, but I’ll come to ma
rriage counselling if you still want to try …’

  Five months ago, she’d been begging him to accompany her. Now, when she looked into the future, she could see Luke’s trial coming up and, after that, some space for herself.

  After Felix’s soccer game on Saturday, she joined Emmanuel for lunch at a restaurant beside the Spit Bridge. Allison watched the yachts gathering until two-thirty on the dot, when the cars came to a halt and the bridge rose vertically. Luke had made it over that bridge and implanted himself in Wirriga.

  ‘Why do you think Luke targeted Wirriga?’ Allison asked, dipping a chip in her aioli. She’d ordered the fish-and-chips special; Emmanuel didn’t raise an eyebrow over Allison’s love of hot chips and ice-cream.

  ‘What would’ve come up when Luke searched online six months ago?’

  Allison cast her mind back. Not long before Christmas, Wirriga Public had held its Twelve Days of Giving to support local communities in need. The school had won that public service award from the education department and the kindness award from the mayor. The story of their goodwill made the national papers. Wondrous Wirriga. Feel-good articles for Christmas with some cute quotes from the kids.

  —All I want for Christmas is rain for the farmers.

  —We need to help others.

  —I gave my piggy bank to the family who lost their house in the bushfire.

  Had Luke identified a caring community and seized his opportunity?

  After all the planning for Gracie’s memorial assembly at school and a picnic at the gym, Declan and Nico agreed on a combined event instead. A celebration of kindness on a Sunday afternoon.

  The burly olive-skinned gym owner and the pale, willowy principal stood together on a makeshift stage on the school oval.

  ‘Thank you for coming today to join our Community of Kindness,’ Declan spoke into the microphone. ‘We’re so pleased to welcome back our guest of honour, Gracie, and her mum. But the real heroes today are all of you. May your kindness continue to shine. Next term, in winter, we’ll be collecting spare blankets for a shelter for the homeless. I’m hoping you’ll help out, if you can.’

  The crowd cheered.

  Gracie’s friends challenged her to a monkey bar competition—and for the first time, Allison watched her hanging from the bars as an ordinary girl, without the added concern of a bump or bruise. And Gracie didn’t have to worry about getting tangled in her Princess Elsa outfit. This morning, she’d presented it to Allison—the dress in one hand, the wig and crown in the other.

  ‘Can we give this to a sick girl in the hop-i-tal?’

  ‘Of course, sweetheart.’ Allison took the outfit from her. ‘Did you have someone in mind?’

  ‘Pippa. She has a sore arm with the cancer.’

  ‘That’s a great idea. We’ll visit the hospital next week.’

  Gracie was wearing the new clothes she’d bought with her mum—denim overalls, a purple dinosaur t-shirt and a blue cap with silver stars. She looked like every other kindy kid in the school playground.

  Allison overheard a group of school parents discussing Luke’s fraud.

  ‘Where’s the cash gone?’ one mother asked. ‘We want our money to go to the children’s hospital.’

  The detectives had found where he’d spent some of it. A duplex at Noosa on the Sunshine Coast, presumably Luke’s next location. A black BMW waiting in the garage for his arrival. But the rest of the money was hidden.

  Along with the fraud investigators, Nico was on a mission to get it back. Allison expected there were more scams—hopefully, Curtis’ campaign would help uncover them.

  At the far end of the oval, under the trees, Maz was teaching Zumba with her friend Em-Jay. Impossible-to-follow dance steps … Allison could never do that. Just like she could never do aerobics. The Wirriga Wellness Club was offering a free trial. Allison wouldn’t be taking it up.

  But Maz may well be coming into the school next term. On the plane back from the Gold Coast, she’d been talking about her dream of becoming a teacher.

  ‘You can do work experience with me,’ Allison had suggested. ‘See if you like it.’

  ‘Great! And I could set up a children’s workout program—some strength training and cardio.’

  Maz’s enthusiasm was still intact; Allison would try to nudge it in the right direction.

  Red and gold hearts twinkled on the walls of the school buildings, flapping in the slight breeze. The children had cut out the cardboard during the week and stuck sparkles to the finished hearts. All different shapes and sizes. Some lopsided, some symmetrical.

  Felix had offered to help Allison with the lollipops and they were walking around the playground, trailed by a gaggle of children sucking on red translucent hearts.

  ‘Thank you for your kindness,’ Allison said each time she handed over a lollipop from her basket.

  In the senior courtyard, Shona and another teacher had set up easels and paint. No competitions this time, so Gracie didn’t have to be the judge. She’d painted a picture of a rollercoaster that she’d gone on at Movie World.

  Allison had pressed Tony and Nadia into helping out on the soft-drink stall for an hour. Tony was complaining.

  ‘I could do with a beer.’

  ‘It’s a family picnic on school grounds,’ Allison reminded him. ‘We can’t have alcohol.’

  ‘Perfect location for your fiftieth,’ Nadia joked. ‘Just need to add champagne.’

  The big birthday was looming in three months and Nadia kept bringing it up. Allison had no plans so far.

  ‘Please don’t organise a surprise party. I’ve had enough surprises for a lifetime.’

  Maybe Allison should do something completely different from what she’d planned with Tony. Two nights with her girlfriends in a five-star Sydney hotel—no planes and no men. Or a weekend on the south coast with her book club, a new place with no memories of family holidays nor Luke.

  Somehow, Allison had let it slip to Emmanuel and he wanted to take her to a swanky restaurant in the city to celebrate.

  ‘But first you have to introduce me to five of your closest friends,’ she’d said.

  He’d finally understood that she meant it and was organising drinks at Manly Wharf. She remembered the night they’d met—Luke encouraging her to make up a story because she didn’t want to tell the sad truth about her marriage breakup. ‘You can be whoever you want to be,’ Luke had said. ‘It’s a game.’

  But Luke was wrong.

  There was one surprise that Allison had organised for the picnic—mostly for Gracie. Mid-afternoon, a gelato van weaved its way from the staff car park onto the basketball court. When it rang its bell, the children squealed and came running. Allison had ordered lots of flavours, including Gracie’s newest favourite, cookies and cream.

  ‘Ice-cream!’ Gracie yelled and dashed towards the van, dragging Marmalade by the lead. A gaggle of kids chased after her. Bringing up the rear were Chelsea, Maz and her parents.

  After they all got their cones, they stood in a huddle around the puppy.

  ‘I’m allowed to take him to …’ Gracie hesitated ‘… to my home.’

  Home. The same word that Allison had struggled with all year. Home. Family. Community. With Gracie in her life, Allison had realised that family didn’t have to be narrowed down to Tony and Felix; it could be expanded to include whomever she wanted.

  ‘Marmalade will love living at your house,’ Allison said. ‘And don’t forget Wirriga is your other home. You’ve touched so many hearts here, Gracie.’

  Six of the Wirriga Wombats had asked if they could visit Gracie in the next school holidays. And Allison had invited Chelsea and Gracie to come back in January for a week by the beach. Even though she didn’t know where she’d be living then.

  Curtis wanted to take yet more photos. Really, he must have enough images by now, although Gracie didn’t tire of smiling whenever her mother was around.

  ‘Everyone in for a big group shot,’ Curtis instructed.

&nbs
p; Allison knelt down on the grass, putting her arm around the little girl. Chelsea was on Gracie’s other side while Maz and her parents stood behind. The kids crowded in front of Gracie, and called for more friends to join them.

  ‘Okay, let’s say ice-creeeeam!’

  The children screamed it back at Curtis.

  ‘And Mrs Walsh, do you have a quote for us?’

  This time, she did. She would repeat the line that the school principal had delivered earlier today. But before Allison could speak, Marmalade leapt towards her ice-cream cone. The chocolate fell to the ground in a lump and the puppy gobbled it up in a few quick bites.

  Gracie giggled and patted his fur. ‘Marmalade likes chocolate best!’

  As everyone laughed, Allison turned to Curtis who was still waiting for a quote.

  ‘What I’d like to say is this: May your kindness continue to shine.’

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  When my first novel, Six Minutes, came out last year, I was overwhelmed by the amazing responses from readers, book clubs, reviewers, bloggers, bookshops and other authors. Six Minutes had two launches, and I want to thank Liane Moriarty and Christina Chipman in Sydney, and Joanne Barges and Karen Hardy in Canberra, for the fabulous celebrations. Over the following months, it was a joy to meet so many readers, librarians and booksellers. Thank you all for your kind support.

  It has been fantastic to work with Allen & Unwin again. The editorial team guided me on the hard decisions to shape The Good Teacher into a better book. I can’t thank you enough for your intelligence and insight—my excellent editors, Ali Lavau and Christa Munns, and my wonderful publisher, Annette Barlow. And many, many thanks to the publicity, sales and marketing teams and all those behind the scenes for taking both Six Minutes and The Good Teacher out into the world!

  Before The Good Teacher crossed the editorial desk, a number of family and friends gave their input. Thank you to Ingrid, Jeremy, Maddie and Caz for reading the first draft. I appreciated comments on early chapters from my fellow students and lecturers in the UTS Master of Creative Writing, with extra thanks to Zoe Downing and Theresa Miller. For feedback on the whole manuscript, much gratitude to Ber Carroll, Christina Chipman, Marisa Colonna, Nicole Davis, and my writers’ group—Margaret Morgan, Katy Pike, Catherine Hanrahan and Frances Chapman.