by Debra Oswald
‘I mean it, Sheena. Thank you so much.’
This time Sheena looked directly at her and nodded. ‘You’re welcome.’
‘I’m sorry you didn’t know your brother was okay,’ Celia said. ‘Even if I’d known how to contact you, Kieran didn’t want me to tell anyone where he was.’
‘Fair enough.’
By now, Zoe and Kieran were sitting side by side on the end of the bed. He was kissing her wrist, kissing the tender skin just above the bandage.
‘You’ll be okay now,’ he was saying to Zoe. ‘You’ll be looked after now.’
*
Sheena figured she’d stay out of the histrionics and let Kieran paw at his girlfriend for as long as he needed to paw. After the pair of them had blubbed and gushed at each other for a while, Zoe expressed a desire to have a soak in the voluminous hotel bathtub. Celia was only too happy to hurry back in there to run a bath for the girl and fuss over her.
When Kieran came out of the bedroom to face his sister, his eyes were puffy from bawling, but he was beaming like a gormless fool.
‘Sheena, it’s so great to see you!’
He bounded over, close enough that Sheena didn’t have to stretch far to slap his face hard.
Kieran was startled, but only for a second. ‘Yeah. Yeah. Fair enough. I deserve that. Have you been good? Have you been okay?’
Sheena slapped him hard again.
‘Okay, Sheena. I reckon you’ve got a right to do that. You got every right to be mad.’
She raised her hand to whack him again, but this time Kieran ducked away and grinned at her from a safe distance. Sheena couldn’t deny that it was good to see him. Separate from the relief to know he was alive, she had really missed the annoying deadhead.
‘I’m sorry if you were worried about me,’ he said in an unexpectedly grown-up voice.
‘I wasn’t worried.’
‘Yeah? Good. Great.’
‘I decided months ago not to give a flying fuck about you anymore,’ Sheena explained.
‘Yep. I can see why. Excellent decision. Good one.’
‘I should’ve let you get yourself arrested last year.’
Kieran nodded firmly. ‘You probably should’ve.’
‘I should’ve left you to clean up your own filthy messes.’
‘Maybe that’s right.’
‘I should’ve walked away three years ago when you were frying your brain with chemicals.’
‘Maybe.’
‘I should’ve left you to kill yourself.’
‘I’m glad you didn’t,’ he said.
Sheena shrugged and looked out the window, not wanting to sob like a wet fool in front of him.
Kieran risked moving closer to her again. ‘How are you, Sheena? Be happy. I want you to be happy. I wish I could give you that.’
‘Well, you can’t.’
‘No, that’s beyond even the powers of a legend like me.’
He grinned and Sheena let him see her smile.
‘A smile!’ he said with mock triumph. ‘I can do that. Which is not much. Not a tiny fucking scrap of what you deserve, Sheena.’
‘Just shut up for a second, Kieran. Can you do that?’
‘I can do that,’ he said and leaned against the window ledge beside her for several minutes in silence. Which was a record for Sheena’s motor-mouth little brother.
*
‘Mum?’
Celia hurried back into the bathroom to help her daughter out of the bath. She held open one of the large white towels and cupped Zoe’s elbow to steady her as she stepped over the bath edge, still so weak she could easily slip on the wet tiles.
‘My hand . . . I might need your help drying myself,’ said Zoe.
Celia dropped her gaze, wanting to give her daughter some privacy even while she was drying her off with the towel. It was hard to look at the bruising on her daughter’s neck and not burst into furious tears.
Sheena had told Celia what she knew about the break-in, the guard dogs, Zoe’s failed search for Kieran. But whenever Zoe talked about any of it, she became so distressed that Celia decided it was better to leave it until she was stronger.
Meanwhile, Joe had booked a twin room down the hall where Kieran and Sheena could stay the night.
‘Everyone’s exhausted,’ Joe reasoned. ‘Let’s all of us get some sleep and in the morning we can think more clearly.’
Sheena argued a bit but when Joe was gently insistent, she accepted the offer. ‘Okay. Ta. It’s a long way back to my place in Parramatta,’ she said.
Joe went out and brought back generous piles of food from Una’s on Victoria Street: schnitzels, potatoes, coleslaw and slabs of cherry strudel, along with two bottles of wine. It made Celia smile to think of this evening as one of those occasions – the last night of a holiday or the day of a house-move or some family event – when everyone mucks in together. She realised it was an occasion, a family reunion of a sort.
Kieran took a plate of food in to Zoe and sat on the edge of the bed, coaxing her to eat a few little bits.
When dinner was finished – Celia was surprised at the amount of food they’d all consumed – Sheena excused herself.
‘I might go and have the longest shower in human history. Use three towels doing it. Then maybe veg out in front of the telly,’ she said. ‘Not many times in my life I’ll get to stay in a high-class joint like this.’
With Sheena down the hall in another room and Kieran in the bedroom talking quietly with Zoe, Joe and Celia were left alone in the lounge room. She wondered if it would feel strained between them, too loaded, but all of that awkwardness seemed to have been blasted away. In fact, it was blessedly peaceful to sit here with this man who knew her so well.
They sat in companionable silence for a while until anxious thoughts started to buzz in Celia’s head. Should they go to the police? Was Zoe well enough for that? What should their next move be?
Joe must have detected the shift in her mood. ‘Don’t worry about police and any of that tonight,’ he said, answering her unspoken concerns. ‘I’ll find out more. Find out where we stand.’
‘You’re such a good friend to us, Joe. I don’t even know how to measure the amount of gratitude I owe you. And Roza.’
Joe shrugged and poured them both another glass of wine.
‘Maybe I should’ve locked Zoe in her room for a few years,’ Celia said. ‘There are parents who do that. Until social workers break into the house years later and find the children squinting against daylight.’
Joe was staring at her.
‘I’m joking,’ she said.
‘I realise that.’
Celia flopped her head from side to side against the sofa and laughed with exasperation at herself.
Joe was watching her, smiling. ‘Oh, Celia. I’m glad to see you so happy. It’s torn me up to see you unhappy.’
She was surprised by his tone – it was intimate, as if he was asking something from her.
The moment was broken when they heard Kieran calling Celia into the bedroom.
She hurried in to find Zoe hunched up in a ball on the bed, wearing the nightie Sheena had bought her. Her breathing was shuddery after a bout of crying and Kieran was stroking her back.
‘She really needs to sleep,’ he said. ‘She needs her mum right now, I reckon.’
Kieran kissed Zoe gently on the shoulder, then stepped away. He said goodnight to Joe before heading off to join his sister in the other hotel room.
Celia kicked off her shoes, climbed onto the bed and curled herself around Zoe’s back. She smoothed the hair back from the girl’s forehead and tucked it behind her ear, repeating this gesture in a steady rhythm until Zoe’s breathing settled. Eventually, the two of them fell asleep.
It was too dim in the room for Sheena to see her watch. She was prepared to admit it was morning, sort of, but it was still very fucking early – too early for Kieran to be stumbling around the carpeted floor putting on his jeans.
She gro
wled at him.
‘Sorry, sorry,’ he whispered. ‘Go back to sleep, Sheena.’
Too late for that. She was awake now whether she wanted to be or not.
She dragged herself to sit up against the upholstered bedhead. ‘Don’t go in there and wake up that girl this early.’
‘I’m not.’
‘Where are you going?’
Kieran ignored her and finished putting on his shoes. Sheena could see he was wired up, fixed on some notion.
‘What’s going on?’ she asked.
‘She’s so beautiful. None of that muck should’ve ever touched her. You know what I should do?’
‘Crawl back into bed, grab a few more hours sleep, then ask Joe for proper advice on how we can handle the legal mess.’
‘No. No,’ Kieran insisted. ‘I have to fix it so Zoe isn’t dragged down into any of this. I’m going to the cops and handing myself in.’
‘Well . . . hold on . . . talk to Joe about the best way to do this.’
‘I’ll take myself to a cop shop far away from here – in Penrith or Windsor or wherever. I can say it was just me and Mick went to that house.’
Sheena tried her stern voice with him. He mustn’t rush and do something dumb. She pointed out that the police might not get hold of Mick, which meant Kieran would need Zoe as a witness. Otherwise, he could end up taking the blame for a shit-load of heavy-duty charges – malicious damage, those poor dogs, all of it.
Kieran came back at her, unwavering. ‘No, don’t you get it? I can’t let Zoe be tangled up in it. The cops don’t ever have to know she was there. This is the right thing to do.’
‘But you gotta make sure it’s the right thing for you, mate.’
‘I have to go, before anyone talks me out of it.’
Sheena sighed. ‘If this is a mistake, don’t expect me to bail you out or feel bad for you.’
‘I won’t.’
‘Hang on. Shit . . . should I come with you to the police station?’
‘No. I’ll call you later.’
Sheena clambered across the bed in T-shirt and undies to reach the desk. She tore a piece off the hotel notepaper and scribbled numbers.
‘This is the phone number of the house I’m living in. The other one is the place I’m working. But no, wait. Give me a sec to get dressed. I should go with you,’ Sheena said and reached for her jeans.
‘No. I’m going on my own. Thanks for offering, though.’ Kieran slid the notepaper with the phone numbers into his pocket. ‘I can ring and let you know where they’ve put me.’
He grinned, trying to look cheeky, maybe even bold, but she could tell he was pretty fucking scared, too.
‘See ya, Sheena.’
*
The heavy drapes in the hotel room blocked most of the morning sun, but there was enough light leaking in around the borders. Celia sat on the edge of the bed and watched Zoe sleep. She was stronger, fever gone, colour in her face again. Lost in sleep and with the sheets covering the bruises on her neck, she looked serene, as if she were home in bed.
Celia hadn’t heard any noise to suggest Sheena or Kieran were up – they must still be asleep down the hall. She was glad. Let everyone keep sleeping as long as possible. Once awake, they would have to deal with the practical questions, the police, the accumulated toxins of the last months.
She peeked out the bedroom door. At some point during the night, Joe had fallen asleep on the sofa in the other room. She winced to see how uncomfortable he looked, with his neck cricked forward and legs bunched up, because the sofa wasn’t long enough. She leaned in the doorway and watched him sleep. This lovely man.
Even though Celia stayed completely still and silent for those few moments, Joe opened his eyes. He must’ve sensed she was there, or maybe he’d been awake the whole time. Celia felt self- conscious, caught out.
Then he smiled and she smiled back.
Joe made a little show of trying to unfold his cramped limbs to sit upright. Celia mouthed ‘sorry’ and he shrugged, grinned – it’s fine.
There was a knock on the door and he jumped up to let Sheena into the suite. Sheena only took a few steps inside, signalling she didn’t intend to stay long. Joe didn’t seem to notice the woman’s strained manner and cheerfully asked her how she’d slept, offered to order breakfast for everyone, wondered if Kieran was awake too.
‘My brother left a couple of hours ago.’
‘Where’s he gone?’ Celia asked.
‘He’s gone to hand himself into the police.’
‘He went on his own?’ asked Joe.
For a moment, all Celia could think about was that boy, on his own, in a police lock-up.
Then Zoe, still warm and rumpled from bed, appeared in the bedroom doorway. ‘Who told Kieran to go to the police on his own?’ she demanded.
‘No one told him,’ Sheena replied. ‘He wants to protect you. He’s going to say it was just him and Mick. He decided it’s the right thing to do.’
‘It’s a stupid thing to do! Why didn’t you make him wait until . . . Shit, shit . . .’ Zoe was agitated, breathless, as if someone had suddenly trapped her in this hotel room.
‘You know, it’s not a stupid idea.’ Sheena addressed Celia now, trying to make this sound as matter-of-fact as any regular decision. ‘Kieran’s in deep shit anyway. He was always likely to end up in jail. Doesn’t mean your daughter has to get her life ruined too. Explain to her why this is a reasonable idea.’
Celia glanced round at Joe but he was staring at the floor, his hands pressed together. He must be at least entertaining the notion of going along with this. Celia and Zoe could just drive back to the farm now, as if Zoe had never been anywhere near the Dural house on that night.
‘Tell Sheena that’s bullshit!’ said Zoe. ‘Mum, you don’t think this is right, do you?’
‘What I think,’ Celia said slowly, ‘I think there is a lot for Kieran to deal with all on his own and we should see if we can —’
Sheena fired up then, her tone fierce. ‘Look, look, my brother doesn’t want to wreck Zoe’s life and that’s – that’s a decent thing, isn’t it? That’s fucking honourable. It’s what he wants to do. Let him do this.’
‘No,’ Zoe insisted. ‘I was there. I have to say what happened.’
‘You don’t need to worry,’ Sheena argued. ‘The cops’ll round up Mick – maybe have already. The guy’s not an intellectual giant. So, they’ll catch Mick and charge him with all the serious shit from that night.’
‘You don’t understand,’ said Zoe flatly.
*
On that night, after Zoe had dumped the conked-out car, she had hurried back along the road on foot, then up the long driveway of the Dural house to find Kieran. By then, she was out of breath and her painful hand throbbed with every pulse.
She made a wide arc around the bodies of the poor dogs, as if their deadness might touch her if she went too close.
Even from outside, she could hear Mick – smashing the place up, yabbering, shouting abuse at Kieran, and every now and then letting rip with a howl of frustration. Zoe didn’t want to go anywhere near him. At that moment all she wanted to do was persuade Kieran to leave. Afterwards, once they were well away from Mick, there would be time to apologise for running off, apologise for the things she’d said.
The front door was wide open, so Zoe could walk straight into the marble-tiled foyer. To the right was a formal sitting room. Mick had already been through there – two huge peacock-blue ceramic pots were smashed apart, paintings pulled off the walls with the canvases torn open, cupboard doors splintered where he’d gone hunting for the cash he’d been promised was in the house. It was the same in the dining room, the polished-wood cabinets fractured and gouged by the sledgehammer.
She moved further inside, down a central corridor, until she heard Mick in the study. He was ripping the place apart, yanking every drawer out of the massive rosewood desk carved with Chinese dragons.
Zoe was wearing soft-soled shoes,
and with Mick making so much noise smashing things and cursing at Kieran, she figured he wouldn’t hear her approach. She could find Kieran and signal to him to follow her out while Mick was occupied with the money search. But somehow, even with all the racket, Mick knew she was there.
‘Did you bring back the car, you skanky bitch?’
Zoe backed away, towards the front door. A second later, Mick was out in the corridor, his clothes ripped and bloody, his body jerking as if the only thing holding it together was twitching ligaments.
‘Where’s Kieran?’ Zoe asked.
‘Your boyfriend fucked off. Ran up the road looking for you. The useless dickwad.’
There was a chance Mick would just let her go – he was there for the money – so Zoe turned her back on him to head towards the door.
‘Where’s the car? What did you do with the fucking car?’
She ran then, trying not to lose her footing on the polished floor. As she reached the doorway, Mick lunged after her, hooked his hand round her belly and slammed her down onto the marble.
He flipped her over onto her back and pinned her there with his knees. He was muttering about the car, yanking at her clothes, shoving his hands into the pockets of her jeans to scrabble for the car keys.
When Mick realised she didn’t have the keys, he grunted, even angrier, and stared down at her. She could smell his breath, rasping out of his wet mouth. His pupils were so dilated that his eyeballs were just dark shiny stones in the eye sockets.
Zoe didn’t make a sound, but just the sight of her riled him up. He grabbed the side of her neck with one hand, digging his fingers into the flesh, then shoved the heel of his other hand down hard on her throat.
She couldn’t breathe with the weight of him on her neck. He pushed harder and Zoe realised he wasn’t going to release the pressure until she was dead. She couldn’t see properly, vision clouded, pain searing down her gullet, light-headed from lack of air. I’m going to die. This is it.
Mick had pinned her injured arm to the floor, but her other arm was free. She stretched out her hand as if she could miraculously grab hold of a rope to pull herself out of this moment and stay alive. Her fingertips hit something cold.