by Anna Willett
“He’s dying, Damon. He can’t do anything to me in a prison hospital.”
Damon set his beer down and spread his hands. “I can’t stop you from doing this, can I?”
She wasn’t sure how to answer. This was the first real problem they’d had in their relationship, and that feeling of desperation, of knowing happiness can be snatched away so easily, and always bracing for the worst returned. She felt a moment of panic, a sense that she might be destroying something that had been so perfect.
“I don’t want to lose you over this. I’ve been so happy and everything’s been good between us. I can’t believe it’s all falling apart.” She ran her hands through her hair, wishing she’d said nothing or at least had taken the time to think through what she was proposing.
“What?” Now Damon looked more confused. He held up his hand, palm out. “Wait, you’re not losing me, Lucy.” He gave a nervous laugh. “Is that what you think?”
She opened her mouth, but didn’t know how to answer. “Lucy.” He reached across the table. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
“No?” She managed to get the word out and hold back tears at the same time.
“No. I don’t agree with what you’re thinking of doing, but you’ve got a kind heart. I wouldn’t change that. I understand who you are and what you do. If you have to visit Plick and interview him, then we’ll go over things to make sure you’re safe. And if it gets too traumatic, I want you to tell me.” He stood up and held out his hand. “Come on. Let’s go home.”
On the ride back to Lake Clifton, Damon put his window down. The spring breeze filled the car. When he glanced her way, his eyes twinkled with familiar merriment. Lucy had a sense that something had changed in their relationship. It was no longer a honeymoon period where they were in a happy bubble. They’d disagreed on something serious, but they were still okay. She leaned back in her seat feeling more relaxed than she had in days. She had no illusions about this being the only time they’d ever argue, but it was good to know they could be less than perfect and still be all right.
Chapter Thirty-seven
“Hi, Hopper.” They were in the front yard of the house on Hallows Lane where Clem stood slightly behind his mother, peeking around her leg. His hair was blonde again and while his face was still pale, the dark shadows under his eyes had faded and his cheeks were fuller.
“I’ve brought you a present.” Lucy pulled a brown paper bag out of her handbag. “I didn’t get time to wrap it, but I didn’t think you’d mind.”
After a few seconds where Clem’s eyes shifted between Lucy’s face and the bag, he stepped forward and took the gift. “Thank you.” His voice was soft, almost a whisper.
“You’re welcome.” Lucy wanted to reach out and touch his slightly dishevelled blonde hair, but didn’t want to spook him.
“Come on.” Sadie took Clem’s hand. “Let’s go round back and you can open your present.”
Lucy followed them, noticing a child lock had been installed since she’d first visited the house. In many ways it was hard to believe only two weeks had passed since she and Damon interviewed Robert Wheeler about Clem’s disappearance. With the sun shining and the sound of birdsong coming from the forest, it felt like that day was far in the past.
Lucy and Sadie seated themselves on the narrow deck at the rear of the property while Clem, sat on the steps nearby, carefully opened the bag. The plush grasshopper toy was green with a silky red head and thorax and just small enough to fit comfortably in Clem’s little hands. He held the insect up to the sunlight with his mouth slightly open as he studied the way the light made the red shimmer into orange.
When he turned back to show his mother, he was smiling. It was the first time Lucy had seen his smile apart from in photographs. The pure happiness in the boy’s face made her chest constrict with emotion.
“Oh, wow!” Sadie clapped her hands. “That’s so cool.”
Clem nodded and clamoured down the steps and across the grass.
“Not too far.” There was an edge to Sadie’s voice, one of barely contained panic as Clem skipped over to a blue sandpit and balanced the toy on its edge.
“Thank you for coming.” Sadie’s eyes were still on her son as she spoke. “He’s always asking about you.” She was still smiling and Lucy noticed that like her son’s, Sadie’s cheeks looked fuller and her blonde hair was shiny. “He’s been excited all morning.”
“How’s he doing?” Lucy turned to watch Clem crouch in the sandpit and sit the toy grasshopper on a dump truck.
Sadie gave a tired smile. “He hasn’t talked about what happened, not much anyway. The doctors don’t think he was… you know, physically abused, at least not in a way that they can tell. So that’s something to be grateful for.”
Lucy could see Sadie’s throat working and guessed she was having a difficult time talking about such matters. “He’s been sleeping with me.” She pulled her eyes off Clem and met Lucy’s gaze. “He has nightmares. Jumps at loud noises and… And he cries easily.”
Her blue eyes drifted back to the sandpit. “They tell me it will take time.” She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “And that’s okay. We have plenty of time and he’s home. He’s safe.” The last two words were strangled.
“Yes.” Lucy leaned forward and patted Sadie’s hand. “He is safe and he’s very strong and so brave. So are you.”
Sadie smiled. This time her expression was very similar to the unguarded happiness Lucy had seen on Clem’s face in the photo of him in the gum boots and woolly jumper.
“Oh, no. You’re the brave one.” Sadie’s expression became sombre. “You brought him back to me. You faced that man.” She tucked a strand of golden hair behind her ear. “The moment I saw you that day in the kitchen I knew if anyone could find him, it would be you.”
Lucy shifted in her seat. How, she wondered, would Sadie take the news that she was going to not only visit Tyson Plick but try to bring his story to the world? “I had a lot of help,” she said.
“Well, I’ll be grateful to you every day for the rest of my life.” Before Lucy could bring up Tyson, Sadie was on her feet. “I’ve made lemonade and Lamingtons. Will you watch Clem while I bring them out?”
While Sadie was inside the house, Clem ran back to the deck. Lucy thought the little boy was worried about his mother leaving him outside. “Your mummy’s just getting the lemonade.”
Clem glanced at the back door, but seemed unfazed. He sidled closer and leaned an arm on Lucy’s thigh. “Mummy says you’re my fairy godmother. Is that a true thing?” He was holding the grasshopper in one hand and staring up into her face. His hair smelled like apples and his eyes were wide.
“I’m not a real fairy.” Lucy frowned, making her expression serious. “But I’ll always come if you need me. Just ask your mummy to ring me and I’ll be there in a flash.”
Clem touched a finger to his chin as though thinking. “How long is a flash?”
“A few hours.” Lucy couldn’t help smiling. “Quicker, if I can.”
After Sadie returned and they all finished the Lamingtons, Clem returned to the sandbox where he worked intently on using his dump truck to build a hill.
“I’m leaving Robert.” The words came out in a rush. “He’s making himself scarce while I pack. I’m taking Clem back to New South Wales.”
Lucy wasn’t sure how to respond, so she chose her words carefully. “That’s a big step after such an ordeal.”
Sadie shrugged her delicate shoulders. “It’s been coming for a long time. Robert’s not a bad man. He’s just too self-involved to be a parent. I was too focused on making things work to see that.”
“So, what will you do in New South Wales?” Lucy thought of the promise she’d just made to Clem, but decided it didn’t change things, not really. If Sadie or Clem needed her, she could catch a flight and be on the other side of the country in five hours.
“My mother isn’t well. That’s why they didn’t fly over whe
n Clem… Well, you know. Anyway, we’ll stay with them until I find work. It will be good for Clem to be around family,” Sadie said.
Lucy leaned back in her seat. “Since we’re sharing, there’s something I need to tell you.” The look of concern on Sadie’s face made it difficult, but Lucy pushed on. “It’s about Tyson Plick.” Just as she’d done with Damon, Lucy explained her belief that Tyson and Mimi’s story needed to be told.
When she’d finished speaking, Lucy almost expected Sadie to order her out of her house, but the woman surprised her. “I think you’re doing the right thing.” She then pointed to Clem busy in play. “The world fails some children. Maybe by shining a light on what happened to those two people, it will change another child’s future.”
“I hope so.”
A little later, Sadie and Clem walked Lucy to her car. As they were saying goodbye, Sadie leaned in the window and kissed Lucy’s cheek. “Stay in touch and thank you for everything.” She glanced down at Clem. “When are you seeing him?” She didn’t have to say his name. Lucy knew she was talking about Tyson.
“Tomorrow.”
* * *
The infirmary, a squat limestone building separated from the main areas of the facility by a walkway hemmed with towering wire fences, sat within the sun-scorched grounds of the Perth Maximum Security Prison. As she followed the prison officer who had identified himself as Brickston through the double steel doors, Lucy had to suppress the urge to turn and flee. With all personal belongings bar a notebook and pencil stashed in a locker at reception, she felt somehow diminished. A feeling that was intensified by the pat down she’d endured before being allowed into the building.
Her visit with Tyson had been authorised by the prison superintendent mostly because Detectives Lighnus and Slekovic had supported her application. In exchange, Lucy had agreed to share any information that might help them with locating others involved in what they believed was a human trafficking ring. Before speaking to Tyson, Lucy had provided a document outlining what her visits would entail and how the information gathered would be used. Tyson had apparently been more than willing to sign the document and tell his story.
“Now...” The officer stopped at the next doorway. “I know you’ve been told not to have any physical contact with the prisoner, but it’s worth saying it twice.” He nodded, so Lucy nodded back. “Don’t pass anything or accept anything.” Brickston had the craggy face and the thick neck of a rugby player. “Tyson’s a pretty crook, so he’s quiet most of the time. I’ll be in the room with you the whole time in case he gets agitated or excited.”
Lucy gave the officer a grateful smile. When planning the visit, she’d wished for the opportunity to talk to Tyson privately, but now with the walls closing in on her and the smell of cleaning chemicals stinging her nose, she was thankful for the guard’s presence.
Tyson didn’t turn his head when they entered the room, giving Lucy a clear view of the shaved area where the wound she’d inflicted had been stitched.
“Tyson.” Brickston’s voice was jovial. “Visitor.”
When Tyson turned, Lucy felt a moment’s confusion. The man sitting at the small metal table looked very different from the one she struggled with in the bush. His face had a bloated, moonlike appearance and his brows looked dark and bristly against his yellowish skin. She guessed his altered appearance was the result of some type of cancer medication. His eyes, however, remained unchanged: grey and glassy.
“Tyson?” She had rehearsed what she would say when they met, but now with the prison officer behind her and the sickly looking man in prison pyjamas staring up at her, she couldn’t quite remember how the introductions were supposed to go. In the end she settled on, “Hello.”
Tyson’s gaze moved between Lucy’s face and the notebook in her hand. “Are you going to write down the things I say in that book?” he said.
His voice was deeper than she remembered, but then when she’d last encountered Tyson Plick, he’d been screaming at her.
“Yes.” Lucy took a seat on the other side of the table. “Is that all right?”
He shrugged. “Yeah, that’s okay.” He kept his hands under the table. “Sorry about all that stuff with the kid.” He looked down at the table. “Is he okay?” He glanced at Brickston. “They won’t tell me anything about him.”
Lucy wanted to say that Clem would never be the same and that okay was a subjective term, but instead she nodded. “Yes, he’s okay.”
“Good. I’ve done a lot of bad shit, but at least I didn’t hurt the kid.” He seemed genuinely relieved.
“Don’t you remember?”
Tyson put his hands on the table. Lucy noticed the fingers on his right hand were discoloured from years of smoking. “Not really. Some of it maybe. I was taking a lot of stuff.” He put a hand on his stomach. “The pain in my gut was driving me crazy. But that’s no excuse.” He looked into Lucy’s eyes for the first time since she’d sat down. “Did they tell you I’m dying?”
She didn’t know how to answer, so she went with honesty. “Yes.”
Tyson nodded toward the mesh covered window. “I’ve spent most of my life in places like this. It’s probably just as well I die here.” There was hopelessness in the way he spoke that was calm and tragic at the same time.
“When we were in the bush you said, ‘I told them I didn’t want to hurt anyone, but they wouldn’t listen.’ Who were you talking about?” Lucy said.
He scratched the back of his head. “Did I? I guess I was talking about my mother and then later Mimi.”
Lucy opened her notebook. “Your mother was Marina. She fostered children. How old were you when she started taking in other children?”
Tyson’s eyes moved back to the window. “I don’t know. Young.” He blinked a few times and then his facial features relaxed. “My old man used to call me Sport.” He drew back his lips in a grimace that was frightening and at the same time heartbreaking. “He used to come home from work and say, ‘How you going, Sport?’ He’d pick me up and fly me through the air. He was strong. He was always telling Marina to leave me alone, but she’d just wait until he wasn’t around and lay into me.”
Lucy stopped writing. She noticed that he called his mother by her Christian name. “Lay into you?”
He nodded, his head moving up and down almost in slow motion. “Yeah. She liked to use a broken hula hoop, a yellow one. She’d whip me with it, on my legs, my back, and my ass. ‘You dirty little animal,’ she’d say.” His eyes were still on the window. “I was just a kid.” He swiped at his eyes. “I was a stupid little kid. I knew it would make things worse, but I’d tell my dad when he got home and then the two of them would go at it. I guess that’s why he left in the end. He couldn’t take it anymore. I used to think he’d come back for me.” Tyson sniffed. “I can’t remember his face anymore.”
Lucy put the pencil down, willing herself to keep her emotions in check. “How was it after your dad left?”
An hour later, Lucy emerged from the prison. She’d promised Tyson she would return the following week to continue where they left off. Part of her wanted to break that promise and never return to the prison infirmary with its flesh coloured walls and disinfectant smell, while another part of her wanted to hear every word Tyson had to say. To know every grim detail of his childhood so she could bring his story to the world, because people like Tyson and Mimi weren’t born monsters. She wasn’t naïve enough to believe she could change the system that had failed them, but as Sadie said, shining a light on their story might change a child’s future. Just one child would be a start.
The End
Other titles by Anna Willett
Mina’s father was a brute and a thug. She got over him. Now another man wants to fill his shoes. Can Mina overcome the past and protect herself?
Cruelty’s Daughter is about a woman who tackles her demons and takes it upon herself to turn the tables on a violent man.
http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07D23WP6T
&nbs
p; http://www.amazon.com/dp/B07D23WP6T
Paige and her husband Hal are on a babymoon, a romantic holiday before their child is born. When misfortune strikes and Hal is injured, they are left stranded in the wilderness. Paige finds two women who offer to help. But when they turn nasty, how far will she have to go to protect her unborn child?
http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01GOUPBI0/
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01GOUPBI0/
Milly thinks that her sister’s invitation to go hiking in the Outback is a chance to heal old wounds. Think again Milly. But what greets them in the wilderness is far more than the humiliation her sister had prepared. It is a confrontation with her worst fears.
http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01M73JK71/
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01M73JK71/
FREE BOOKS IN YOUR INBOX
As a thank-you to our readers, we regularly run free book promotions and discounted deals for a limited time. To hear about these and about new fiction releases, just sign up to our newsletter:
www.thebookfolks.com/newsletter/