by Ilsa Evans
‘Is this clever?’ asked Sam, staring out the windscreen.
Maddie shrugged. ‘Tell me what happened. From start to finish.’
‘First tell me what you’re gonna do.’
‘I don’t know yet. Not until I hear the whole story. And, Sam,’ Maddie paused, glancing across at her son, ‘you have to be completely honest. Don’t leave anything out because you think I might be upset or whatever. I need to know everything.’
‘Okay.’ Sam pulled his seatbelt across and clicked it in, as if this alone was a commitment. ‘I had this fight with Dad. Sunday night. And I told him he was an arsehole so he whacked me. Like with the back of his hand.’ Sam held out his hand, demonstrating.
Maddie took a deep breath. ‘What happened after that?’
‘He just walked out. I think he got as big a shock as I did. So I went to bed.’
‘All right. First then, what was the fight about?’
‘Well, we had a seriously shitty weekend up at Yea. And I was pretty pissed off, because we were supposed to be here, and he was acting like such a jerk. So I told him I was going home after school on Monday, for good, and nothing was gonna change my mind. And Ashley would probably come too. And it wasn’t because we were being brainwashed, it was because he was an arsehole. And that we’d both had enough of his shit.’
Maddie turned onto the highway. ‘I bet that went down well.’
‘Yeah. Like a lead balloon.’
‘So, afterwards? I know you went to bed, but after that? The next day?’
‘Well, first he had this yelling thing with Natalie and she was crying and all that crap. Then I think she left.’ Sam leant back, stretching out his legs. ‘And about three in the morning he comes into my room and wakes me up and he’s pretty pissed. Drunk. Saying he didn’t mean it and stuff and for me not to go to school the next day.’
‘Which was actually that day?’
‘Yeah. So I slept in and when I got up he was gone. I dunno where but he didn’t get home till late. And he started drinking again and then he shows us both all these court papers about how he has to have us for the weekdays. And this bit about repercussions if we go round to your place, contra something or other.’
‘Contraventions.’
‘Yeah, that’s it. And that you’d get charged.’
Maddie shook her head, her lips thin. ‘But Sam, didn’t you think he might be the one to get in trouble? For the black eye?’
‘Yeah, of course.’ Sam went quiet for a few minutes. ‘But Ashley said we were going to see some family guy on Wednesday for a report, and you’d be there too, so I thought I’d wait till then. Play it safe. Coz I reckon he’s nuts.’
Maddie turned off the highway and down towards the Badgerton main street, passing a snaking line of primary school children on an excursion, with parents and teachers holding a sea of colourful umbrellas.
‘Where are we going?’ asked Sam, glancing at her with a suspicious frown.
‘Police.’
‘No!’
‘Sam, believe it or not, I don’t want to do this either. But we’ve got no choice.’
‘Yes, we do!’
Instead of answering, Maddie flicked her blinker on and pulled off the road and into a vacant parking space by the sandstone police station. The blue light shone welcomingly. She turned the ignition off, the wipers lying down as if exhausted, and within seconds rain had covered the windscreen, giving them a strange privacy. She turned to Sam. ‘I love your loyalty, absolutely love it. But sometimes it can actually be dangerous. And Sam honey, I speak from experience. The bottom line is that your father hit you. Backhanded you so hard he gave you a black eye. That’s abuse.’
‘Yes, but –’
‘What if it had been Ashley?’
Sam stared at her, his mouth still open to speak. He blinked, shut it again.
‘Because if you’re thinking that you sort of deserved it because you were annoying him, then spare a thought for how annoying your sister can be when she puts her mind to it. How’s he going to react to that?’
Sam looked down at his lap and then up at the blue light, water-coloured through the windscreen. It glowed softly across his face, clashing with the dirty blue that cupped his eye.
‘We have to do this,’ said Maddie softly. ‘We have to make a stand.’ Sam nodded.
‘Good.’ Maddie reached across and gave his hand a squeeze. She dragged her handbag out from under her seat and opened the car door, sending a smile of solidarity towards Sam as they both got out. The rain was heavier now so they ran briskly across the grassy verge and up to the glass sliding doors set incongruously into the sandstone. The doors immediately whisked open with a metallic hum and they went through into a sparse waiting room. Three plastic chairs set by one wall and a counter opposite, with a silver-striped, two-way glass mirror and a door behind. There was a bell on the counter but before she could press it Maddie’s mobile rang, vibrating her handbag against her hip. She smiled at Sam, supportively, apologetically, as she riffled through her bag and extracted the phone.
‘Hello?’
‘Where the fuck is he?’
‘Who?’ asked Maddie stupidly, staring at Sam.
‘Don’t play games with me, you dumb bitch. Now I’ll ask you one more time. Where is he?’
Maddie took a deep breath. ‘Here, with me.’
‘And where the fuck is here?’
‘At the police station.’
There was silence, except for the sound of Jake’s breathing. Loud yet muffled at the same time. When he finally spoke it was low, disbelieving. ‘At the where?’
‘At the police station,’ repeated Maddie, still staring at her son. Drawing strength from the paleness of his face, even as her stomach heaved. ‘You hit him.’
‘Don’t believe everything you hear,’ said Jake quickly, automatically. Then he paused again. ‘And don’t do this.’
‘I have to.’
‘You’re making a mistake. A huge mistake. Don’t do this.’
Maddie turned away from Sam as, bizarrely, she felt her eyes prick with tears. ‘You hit him.’
‘If you do this you’re forcing my hand. You realise that?’
‘It makes no difference, don’t you get that? You’ve lost. Because it’ll all come out tomorrow anyway, at the family report. And the magistrate will get told, and the ICL. You went too far this time. You hit him.’
‘So you’re doing this?’
The door behind the counter opened and a young policeman came out, looking at Maddie inquiringly, as if he was asking the exact same question. She took a deep breath. ‘Yes.’
‘You really are a low-life, aren’t you?’ asked Jake in a voice that was more wonderment than vicious. Then it deepened, strengthened, went cold. ‘You’ll pay for this, bitch. Boy, will you pay for this. And then I’ll dance on your fucking grave.’
TWENTY-FOUR
They were at the police station for almost two hours. First being interviewed, which seemed to stretch forever, and then giving a formal statement and having a series of photographs taken of Sam’s injury. The policeman who dealt with them was one of the ones who had visited the house only that morning, when the window had been broken. And Maddie was glad of that because she had a strong sense that otherwise Sam’s black eye would have been seen as merely the unfortunate by-product of a scuffle between father and teenage son. Especially as Sam had made a point of saying that his father had been immediately regretful, and no further violence had followed. And then it emerged that his parents were sandwiched between court cases. She could read, in the deadpan of the policeman’s face, how that sounded.
But the broken window added a suspicious element. What might have been seen as an isolated incident eagerly broadcast by a vindictive mother became, perhaps, part of a broader pattern. Nevertheless Maddie felt embarrassed by the whole situation, mortified by both how it looked and how it was. Picturing herself on the other side of that two-way mirror, glancing through to see a r
ather wild-eyed woman lambasting her ex for all she was worth, accompanied by a sulky teenage boy with a black eye who didn’t have much to say at all.
The end result was an interim intervention order, which prohibited Jake from coming within twenty metres of any of them, including Ashley. The policeman assured Maddie that he would collect the girl when he went to Jake’s house to give him a copy of the intervention order and formally charge him with the assault on his son. And the hugeness of what she was doing throbbed behind Maddie’s eyes so loudly that it was difficult to think, to absorb. She kept remembering Robyn’s words, about Jake digging his own grave, and knew that the lawyer would be pleased with the action she was taking. But this wasn’t enough to offset the guilt, and the trepidation. When it was finally over and they passed through the sliding doors once more, it was with a sense of relief that she recognised was ironic, given the circumstances.
They arrived home as the murky grey of the sky was beginning to deepen. The rain had stopped but everything was damp, shining, with tiny droplets clinging to branches and the grass sodden underfoot. The patch job on the lounge room window had held up better than she expected, although one side had come a little loose, with a strip of masking tape waving gently in the breeze. Like bunting at a party. Welcome home, Sam and Maddie. Welcome home! She glanced at Sam quickly as they pulled into the driveway, expecting a comment, but he was staring straight ahead, lost in thought.
Maddie was nervous, very nervous, about being here. Even as her mind worked feverishly to downplay Jake’s actions, his threats, and dismiss them as the chest-thumping of a primate being backed into a corner, the truth was that he scared her. His single-minded egotism alone made him unpredictable, dangerous. And the thought of his reaction to being charged and having an intervention order taken out, went beyond her imagination. It was a dark area, way out in left field. She considered driving down to Hannah’s to stay, after Ashley was delivered, but alongside the nervousness was a profound desire to wrap herself in hearth and home. And a horror of being seen to overreact.
‘What about Ashley?’ asked Sam.
Maddie turned to him in surprise. ‘You read my mind!’
‘Well, it didn’t take long.’ He flashed her a fleeting grin, even the blue wedge under his eye momentarily curving upward. ‘So? What about Ashley? She’ll be home from school by now.’
‘I know,’ replied Maddie slowly. ‘And I did think about going via your dad’s to grab her but that would’ve been asking for trouble. It’s not like he’d just hand her over like that, not to me. We’ll just have to wait for the police to bring her here. Be patient.’
‘She’s going to be pissed.’
‘It’s not her being pissed that I’m worried about,’ said Maddie softly. She took the keys out of the ignition and tapped them on the steering wheel as she thought. Then she turned back to Sam. ‘Do you know what? I think we may be able to resolve some of this tomorrow, at the family report thing. Surely whoever runs these will be used to this stuff and be able to dampen the situation a bit. Maybe even convince your father that he’s affecting you guys so badly. That you’re better off living with me and that even he’s better off that way. Less pressure for starters.’
‘Yeah. Maybe.’
‘In the meantime we just have to carry on as usual. Not let our lives be disrupted more than absolutely necessary.’ Maddie nodded, to convince herself as much as him. She got out of the car and locked it, then tossed the keys to Sam. ‘Here, you open up while I get the mail.’
The letterbox lid showered droplets across her hand as she flipped it open, removing the mail. Flicking through it as she walked back up the driveway, trying to normalise her life. Telephone bill, a little less than usual, water bill, a little higher. A notification of a book sale, a flyer from a garden maintenance firm, and an invitation to morning tea at the high school, as an official thank you for volunteering at the fete. Maddie blinked, surprised. How amazingly long ago that all seemed.
She dropped the mail with her handbag on the kitchen table and then, after a brief hesitation, locked the back door. It seemed a little superfluous as she could hear Sam calling for Guess, which meant the dog hadn’t been let out yet, but it was impossible to turn her back on the door while it was still unlocked. She washed her hands briskly and then put the kettle on before going to change. The green answering machine light was blinking in the lounge room so she made a mental note to check it on her way back. In her bedroom she threw her damp work clothing into the hamper and then pulled on boot-cut jeans and a black, three-quarter sleeved jumper made from soft angora. Leaving the room to almost collide with Sam coming the other way, his face tense.
‘I can’t find Guess. And I’ve looked everywhere.’
Maddie stared at him. She swallowed. ‘Everywhere? Are you sure?’
‘Of course I’m sure. Could you have left him outside this morning?’
‘No.’ Maddie shook her head even as she cast her mind back. She had been tired, but surely she remembered letting the dog back inside before she left for work. Didn’t she?
Sam frowned, glared, and then turned to hurry out to the kitchen. Moments later Maddie heard the back door open as he started calling for the dog again. ‘Guess! C’mon boy! Guess!’
Maddie rubbed her arm, gazing unseeingly at the passage wall and straining to picture Guess in the kitchen having breakfast. Glancing up at her with his black-lipped grin. Sam sounded fainter now, which meant he had gone outside, and this gave Maddie added impetus to find Guess, fast. She wanted that door locked again as soon as possible. She went into Ashley’s room first, only because it was next door, and searched, calling the dog’s name softly. Even opening up the wardrobe in case he had somehow become trapped inside. She tried Sam’s room next, even though that was surely the first place he’d looked. Opening the wardrobe only to have an avalanche of shoes and inside-out jeans tumble onto the floor. Impatiently, she left them where they were and turned to leave. And that was when she heard the sound, very faintly, nothing more than a sigh. Or perhaps a tail making a half-brush against the carpet.
Maddie stopped, listening intently, but it didn’t come again. She went over to Sam’s bed and bobbed down, lifting up his doona and peering underneath, seeing nothing but the shadows of more shoes amongst the gloom. She was about to get up again when her eyes adjusted enough to see them. Two pinpricks of translucent light right up at the back.
‘Guess?’ she whispered, stretching out her spare hand. His tail moved again, but only slightly, the barest whisk. Maddie straightened, running over to the window and knocking on the glass. ‘Sam! Sam! I’ve found him!’ She could hear the panic in her voice because she already knew that this was not good. Not good at all.
She hurried back around to bob down and check where Guess’s head was, then ran to the foot of the bed and, with one fluid motion, heaved the bed away from the wall at an angle. Now the dog was mostly visible, a black mound at the narrowest point, with only his eyes displaying life.
‘What the –’ Sam stood in the doorway, his eyes widening as he took in the situation. He jumped onto the bed and then dropped down so that he was kneeling right by Guess’s head, reaching one hand down to touch him.
‘Can you pick him up?’ asked Maddie, unable to lift the bed out any further with Sam on it.
‘Yep.’
‘Okay, you grab him, I’ll get the car started.’ She cast one more glance at Guess and then ran into her bedroom, grabbing her boots from the wardrobe and pulling them on. From there she ran down the passage and into the kitchen, where steam from the kettle was hissing angrily at the ceiling. She flicked it off and grabbed her handbag. She could hear Sam now, with heavier footsteps, so she paused at the back door, holding it open for him to come through with the dog in his arms. And now it was very clear how ill Guess was, his mouth half open with frothy drool lacing his gums. Like liquid doilies. His eyes swivelled around to her, the whites glistening, and she fancied she saw gratitude, relief. My family, a
t last, now I’m not alone. And she wanted to burst into tears, throw something, hit something. Explode.
‘What about Ashley?’
‘I’ve thought about that,’ said Maddie quickly, putting her hand on Guess’s head to protect it from the doorjamb. ‘I’ll leave you at the vet’s with Guess and come right back to wait for her. If the police come while I’m gone, well they’ve got my mobile number so they’ll ring anyway.’
They hurried around to the car and Maddie opened the rear door for Sam, helping him slide inside with the dog held tightly on his lap. Guess’s eyes were closed, as if he felt he was able to relax now that they had things in hand. She ran around to the driver’s side and leapt in, starting the car up and reversing rapidly down the driveway. Glancing momentarily at Sam as she changed direction, both of them expressionless. Which in itself said more than either needed.
Within ten minutes they were pulling up outside the local vet clinic, where Guess always got his inoculations and an annual trim for the summer. The glass windows shone with light and Maddie could see the receptionist inside, a young guy with jet-black spiky hair, talking on the phone. She turned to Sam quickly. ‘I’ll go ahead, unless you need a hand?’
‘You go,’ said Sam shortly, already opening the door and adjusting his hold on Guess.
Maddie nodded and clambered out, slamming her door and then running into the clinic, through the automatic doors. She went straight to the counter where the receptionist was just hanging up the phone. ‘Please. Our dog has been poisoned.’ And then the words were out there, with a life of their own, couldn’t be taken back. Guess had been poisoned.
The receptionist pressed a buzzer on the side of the counter and then hurried around to the doors, just as they slid open for Sam. Guess hung limply in his arms, his head tucked against Sam’s chest, his eyes still closed. Drool shone down the boy’s arm like moist track marks.
‘What have we got here?’ The vet, a middle-aged woman with a vivid red streak through her blonde hair, came hurrying through a far doorway that was surrounded by huge colourful cartoons of dogs, cats, rabbits. She reached them just as the receptionist was gently taking Guess from Sam. The dog’s head flopped, and then settled again.