‘He is?’ I say.
‘My aunty finally tracked him down and told him what was going to happen, and he felt worse about that than about what he did to Tom, so he’s heading back.’
‘Oh, I’m so glad,’ I say.
‘I don’t know how happy Mum will be,’ she says. ‘But if it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t be finding out.’
Samara places her hand over her heart, and smiles at me.
‘Girls,’ the magistrate says. ‘Touching as this all is, this is a court, and we are here for sentencing.’
‘But that’s just it,’ Samara says. ‘I want to take part of Maddie’s sentence away from her. Or at least to share in it. It’s only right, seeing as I’m the one who got her into this in the first place. I should be punished as well.’
The magistrate turns to the police prosecutor. ‘Are the police likely to lay additional charges in relation to this case?’
The policeman rises briefly. ‘No, your honour. The other witness wasn’t caught stealing, so we have no evidence, without trawling through old CCTV footage.’
‘All right,’ the magistrate says. ‘Samara, thank you for your submission. It has been noted.’
Samara lowers herself to the chair. She looks over at me and shrugs. I place my hand over my heart and I whisper, ‘Thank you’. Katy keeps her eyes straight ahead, but she gives a nod, and presses her lips together.
When I glance over at Dad, he is looking at Samara. His face has a look of shock and relief mixed together. And I have a moment of relief that he finally knows the truth.
But that dissolves when the magistrate starts to speak.
‘All right,’ she says, ‘let us proceed. This matter has already taken up more of the court’s time than necessary. Madeleine Lee, please stand up.’
I swallow.
‘Is there anything you would like to add?’ the magistrate says.
I nod, and get to my feet.
‘Your honour, what Katy and Samara say about why I did what I did is true,’ I say. ‘I wanted to help Samara. I wanted to make a difference.’
‘Very honourable,’ the magistrate says.
I go on. ‘I wanted to do something good, but mostly I just wanted to be Samara’s friend.’
‘Is that why you stopped being friends with me?’ Katy says. ‘Couldn’t you have more than one friend at a time?’
‘Young ladies,’ says the magistrate. ‘Please desist. I have heard your submissions but this is a court, not a therapy room.’
‘Sorry,’ Katy and I say at the same time. We look at each other, and I have to turn my head away, so I won’t laugh.
‘So it wasn’t all because I wanted to help,’ I add. ‘Some of it was, but not all.’
‘Be that as it may,’ the magistrate says, ‘these submissions are only one aspect of the things I must take into account. The fact remains that you stole and you pleaded guilty. As I said earlier, the reasons for your theft do not excuse the crime.’
‘Yes, your honour,’ I say.
‘Katy,’ the magistrate says. ‘You have spoken eloquently of the qualities that your friend possesses. You have also given a background to the offending which I appreciate.’
Katy rises briefly to curtsy.
‘Samara,’ the magistrate continues. ‘I am troubled by your involvement in Madeleine’s offending, as I’m sure you understand.’
‘Yes, your honour,’ Samara nods.
‘I have also given consideration to your offer to share the punishment that Madeleine must receive. While this is noble, there is no precedent I can think of that would allow such an arrangement to exist.’
‘I see,’ Samara says.
‘I recognise the pressures that caused you to conduct yourself the way you have,’ the magistrate says. ‘Yours was the immature reasoning of a twelve-year-old, and you can’t be expected to have known any better, and I commend you for being open and honest in defence of your friend. I trust that we will not see you before this court for any reason in the future.’
Samara frowns when the magistate says ‘immature reasoning’, but replies, ‘No, your honour.’
‘So, I’m afraid I must now return to sentencing,’ she says.
I take a deep breath. The rest of the courtroom disappears – Katy, Samara, Dad. I am aware of Jay next to me, but I only see the magistrate, writing a note on some papers in front of her, silhouetted by the grey cloud in the window behind her.
‘On the count of stealing confectionery worth more than fifty dollars from Lakelands Supermarket, I sentence you as follows.’
My heart begins beating against my chest bone and blood rushes in my ears. I have to strain to hear the words of the magistrate in the silent courtroom.
‘Firstly, you are to perform thirty hours of community service over six months,’ the magistrate says.
‘Thirty hours?’ I whisper to Jay. I imagine having to pick up rubbish in the street for thirty hours, alone. My heart keeps hammering.
Jay puts a finger to her lips.
‘The nature of the service can be negotiated with the youth justice officer,’ says the magistrate, peering at a young woman with dark hair sitting to the side of the court. ‘While I wouldn’t normally interfere with the operational matters of the youth justice team, can I suggest consideration may be given to community performances of a musical nature?’
‘What?’ I whisper to Jay.
Jay taps her finger against her lips and frowns.
‘Secondly, as a matter of deterrence, I propose a novel way of discouraging other young people from offending in the way you have.’ The magistrate pauses and smiles. ‘Novel. I like that.’
This time, even Jay looks puzzled.
‘I propose that the offender write an account of the circumstances leading to her offending, to be published in the appropriate format once reviewed by the youth justice officer,’ the magistrate says. She leans over and says to the young woman with the dark hair, ‘Is that something you can supervise?’
The young woman rises. ‘Absolutely, your honour.’
‘Good,’ the magistrate says. ‘Once those orders are complete, this offence will be recorded as a spent conviction.’
I raise my eyebrows at Jay.
‘It means you won’t have a record,’ Jay whispers.
‘Excuse me, Ms Alzgren,’ the magistrate says. ‘Do you have a comment to make?’
‘No, your honour,’ Jay says, standing. ‘Thank you, your honour, that is a good outcome for my client.’
I look over at Dad. This time, he looks back. He doesn’t smile, exactly, but his face looks more relaxed than it’s been for a long time.
‘Excellent,’ the magistrate says. ‘Now, Ms Lee, you are dismissed.’
‘Thank you, your honour,’ I say.
‘And Ms Lee?’ the magistrate says.
‘Yes, your honour?’
‘In the nicest possible way, I say to you that I hope never to see you again,’ she says. ‘Now, I turn to matter number 1799, also for sentencing …’
Wolfie lies between Samara and Katy on the bed. I’m sitting against the wall, reading the words I’ve been writing night after night for the past month. Wolfie leans toward whoever is patting him, pausing there until he is satisfied, then butting his head under the hand on the other side.
‘Are you listening, or paying attention to him?’ I ask, pausing in my reading, as Katy scratches Wolfie under the chin.
‘It’s a long story, you have to admit,’ says Katy. ‘Plus, we can do more than one thing at once.’ She bends her head and says in Wolfie’s ear, ‘That’s right, isn’t it, puss-puss?’
Wolfie purrs in response.
‘Did I really seem so cool?’ says Samara.
‘Yes,’ Katy and I answer together.
Samara smiles. ‘That’s good to know,’ she says. ‘I hope I can imitate myself next year, when we get to high school.’
‘And what about me?’ Katy says. ‘Am I really that bossy?’
; ‘Yes,’ Samara and I answer together.
Katy pokes her tongue good-naturedly.
‘In the nicest possible way,’ I say.
‘Thanks,’ Katy smiles. ‘I think.’
‘When will you hear about your scholarships?’ I ask.
‘I’m not sure,’ Samara says.
‘Soon,’ Katy says.
I pout. ‘I don’t want to go to a different school to both of you.’
‘We’ll still be friends anyway,’ Samara says. ‘Won’t we?’
Katy says, ‘What’s our motto, girls?’
We scramble up from the bed and stand in a circle. Katy counts us in, and we chant:
Three best friends
As you can see
Maddie, Samara – KATY!
Friends are the best
We stood the test
Samara, Maddie – KATY!
We’ll stick together
Now and forever
Samara, Maddie – KATY!
Every time we get to ‘Katy!’, we yell it a bit louder and a bit louder, jumping up with our hands in the air at the same time. At the last ‘Katy!’ we leap into the air, and collapse on the ground, laughing and breathless.
Wolfie glares at us from my bed. We laugh and laugh.
‘Shall I keep reading?’ I ask, when I get my breath back.
‘Yes,’ Samara and Katy answer together.
Everyone clambers into the gym, laughing and calling to each other, being shushed by the teachers, which dampens down the noise for a moment, before it builds up voice by voice to the pre-shush sounds. The teachers look at each other and shrug. It is the end of third term, and the weather is bright, and the smell of spring is in the air. The kids want to be out, at recess, running around in the mild sunshine, not cooped up in the gym for assembly.
Katy watches from the stage, waving at the kids who wave at her, and nodding at kids like Tom and Zac. When everyone is seated and settled, she turns around.
‘All set?’ Katy says to me.
‘Set,’ I affirm, angling my clarinet, ready to go.
‘Samara?’
Samara leans out from the piano and smiles at me and Katy.
‘Ready when you are,’ Samara says.
‘Eastlake Primary School, welcome to the last assembly of term,’ Katy says. ‘It has been a significant term in many ways.’
Katy nods, and the school claps enthusiastically. I want to call out ‘whoo’ but instead wave my clarinet back and forth.
‘It has been a term of great achievements and great challenges,’ Katy says. ‘Especially I’d like to wish the year six hockey club the best of luck on their upcoming tour of Japan.’
The year sixes at the back send up a cheer into the gym.
‘I’d also like to mention those achievements that go unnoticed to most people,’ Katy goes on. ‘At the beginning of this year, you were all asked to reflect on the things you wanted for yourself, and to make your community a better place. Maybe those things were small things, like finishing your homework, or beginning a new sport, or helping someone who needed your help.’
Katy glances at me.
‘Whatever you aimed for, I hope you have been learning something about yourself, and that you truly did your best, and that you will continue on that way for the remainder of the year.’
Some of the year threes pipe up, ‘Do your best, help the rest, put your spirit to the test!’
Again, applause erupts from the students.
‘Before we get on with the rest of the assembly,’ Katy says, ‘I would like to begin with the first of three pieces to be played by our year six ensemble. This ensemble has been touring aged-care centres for the past few weeks as part of a –’
Oh no, I think. Don’t say it. Don’t explain that our playing is part of my community service order.
‘A way of giving back to the community,’ Katy finishes.
I sigh. Of course Katy wouldn’t say anything like that. Katy is my friend. My true friend. My oldest, truest friend. And Samara is my newest.
‘So it is my great pleasure to introduce to you all …’
She pauses and glances at Samara and me. We join in with her to say:
‘The Rule of Three!’
Katy picks up her flute, and sits in front of her music, me on one side of her, Samara on the other.
‘Now, let’s begin!’
LAKELANDS COLLEGE OF THE ARTS
Dear Madeleine,
It is my pleasure to advise you that you have been selected to take part in the new program for talented young writers at Lakelands College of the Arts. This program will take pride of place with our existing programs for creative students of dance, visual arts and music.
An outline of the program is attached.
An information evening will be held soon.
Please indicate whether you are intending to accept this offer by the end of this week.
Congratulations, and we hope we will be welcoming you into year seven in the Literature Program next year.
Sincerely,
Lesley Reece
Principal
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Thank you to Amanda Betts, Meg McKinlay, Frané Lessac, Dianne Wolfer, Deb Fitzpatrick and Norman Jorgensen for your general awesomeness and support, and to all my creative buddies from the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators, who form a community I am privileged to be part of.
Thank you to Cate Sutherland, for believing in Maddie, and for welcoming me into the Freo fold so warmly.
Lesley Reece, I hope you enjoy the last page. We are all lucky to have you flying the flag for excellence in creating books for young people, and encouraging the next generation of creative writers through the Literature Centre in Fremantle.
And special thanks to Jay for giving me insights into the world of youth justice and for your kindness and generosity of spirit. Of course, all inaccuracies and exaggerations in the novel are my own.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Julia Lawrinson has written more than a dozen books for children and young adults, many of them award-winning. Despite leaving school at 15, she has a PhD in Writing and a Bachelor of Laws with Distinction. Julia has worked in a range of organisations, from the arts to parliament to health. Her books are about friendship, family and the occasional Jack Russell. She loves the ocean, reading, dog parks and the word serendipity.
First published 2019 by
FREMANTLE PRESS
25 Quarry Street, Fremantle WA 6160
www.fremantlepress.com.au
Copyright text © Julia Lawrinson, 2019.
The moral rights of the author have been asserted.
This book is copyright. Apart from any fair dealing for the purpose of private study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part may be reproduced by any process without written permission. Enquiries should be made to the publisher.
Cover designed by Rebecca Mills.
Printed by McPherson’s Printing, Victoria, Australia.
Maddie in the Middle
ISBN: 9781925815931.
Fremantle Press is supported by the State Government through the Department of Local Government, Sport and Cultural Industries.
Maddie in the Middle Page 13