Devastation Road

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Devastation Road Page 8

by Joanna Baker


  We all went ‘no’ and then ‘yes’, getting confused. She didn’t wait to sort it out.

  ‘Won’t be a minnie,’ she said, and left.

  ‘She’s nice, isn’t she,’ said Chess. I don’t think she saw much of Annie even though they lived on the same road. Neither of them were the type to drop in on the neighbours.

  Tara had completely lost the friendly look. Her face was small and soft and unhappy. ‘Those two out there give me the creeps.’ She moved over to the window. Her hair was braided loosely down her back. ‘I wish we hadn’t come.’

  I tried to make her feel better. ‘They’ve just lost Debbie. You can’t expect them to be jumping around welcoming people.’

  Chess pushed her eyebrows together. ‘You can certainly imagine Craig burning things down. Maybe worse.’ Still moving stiffly, she picked up a photograph from among the flowers on the wall unit.

  Annie appeared in the doorway with a laden tray and saw what Chess was doing. She put the tray on a coffee table and moved up beside her.

  ‘That’s our Deb on the day of her Coming Out. Bit of a joke with us — a Deb ball. Get it?’ She gave a harsh grunt of laughter that didn’t sound real. ‘She made the dress herself. She had a partner, some boy from Rutherglen, but Craig drove her into town. She didn’t know Andrew then.’

  Wando stayed firmly in his chair. Tara and I gathered around the photo, smiling idiotically. There was Debbie, aged sixteen, looking exactly the same as she had at twenty-two. She wore a lacy white dress. Next to her was Craig, tidied up for the photo, clearly wishing he was somewhere else. They were standing in front of a Falcon, a model from about fifteen years ago. It was dark blue.

  ‘How old is Craig in the photo?’ said Chess.

  ‘Craig? Twenty-one. Why?’ said Annie.

  ‘So he’s twenty-seven now. You don’t look old enough to be his mother,’ said Chess.

  ‘Oh, sweet thing.’ For some reason, this brought the tears to Annie’s eyes. Weakly, she thumped Chess in the arm. ‘You can have two pieces of me chocolate slice.’

  After that Annie got us all seated and passed around cups and sugar and told us about all the food and who had made it and how kind they were.

  ‘We’ve had that many casseroles. All your Mums have sent things.’

  We didn’t all have Mums. I glanced at Chess, but for once she hadn’t noticed the mistake.

  Then there was a bit of an interval in which Wando and Chess kept eating and Tara sat very still, staring at the carpet. I would’ve tried to keep the conversation flowing, but something about the way Annie was standing told me she had something she wanted to say.

  ‘I’m so glad you all came,’ she said. ‘I wanted to have you here, just to … I wanted to …’ She made a sound that was half ‘er-um’ and half a laugh. ‘I didn’t want to say thank you exactly, that’s not right, is it? But, you know, you lot found Debs and it can’t have been very nice for yas.’

  This wasn’t quite right, either. Wando hadn’t been there but he was easy to ignore like that. He sort of melted into the background.

  Annie was struggling to finish the speech. ‘So I suppose I could say I’m sorry, but then that isn’t quite it either …’

  There were grooves down her face that hadn’t been there before, big, deep grooves that looked as if someone had folded her cheeks over from top to bottom and creased them. Together with the blotchiness of her skin, it made her look physically sick. I wondered whether grief acted like that, like some kind of disease.

  ‘Anyway, it’s good just to see yas.’

  I thought I’d better help her out. ‘It’s nice to be here, Annie. Sorry we left early yesterday.’

  She waved that away. ‘No … God …’ She was remembering the funeral and shaking her head. ‘I was a bloody write-off.’ Without knowing she was doing it, she perched down onto the arm of Wando’s chair. Her bottom, in its tight pink jeans, was almost touching his arm.

  ‘There’s one thing I do have to say. I hope no one will mind. It’s just that Debs had this necklace thing. A stone on a chain. Kind of dark yellow, with lighter yellow bits inside. It was called amber. I mean I know you would’ve said if you’d found it or anything, but Craig’s been going on about it. People have different ways of handling things, don’t they? He’s that angry. That’s just his way. But he’s latched on to this necklace.’ She paused for breath and tried again to explain. ‘Craig says she had it on her when she went to work that day.’

  ‘She did,’ said Chess, always quick with the facts. ‘She wasn’t wearing it when we found her.’

  ‘You sure? Could it have got left on the grass?’

  ‘Definitely not,’ said Chess. ‘But she was wearing it on the Saturday afternoon, in the bakery. She showed it to us.’

  ‘It’s probably in the creek,’ said Tara, very quietly.

  Annie sighed sadly and slapped her knees. ‘Yes, probably. They dragged the pool and only found the bakery keys. They must’ve fallen out of Deb’s pocket. Perhaps they missed the necklace.’

  Chess said, ‘Debbie called it the Eye of Ra. Did you know that? She said it meant she knew people’s secrets.’

  My stomach tightened. Chess was still playing detective.

  ‘Yeah.’ Annie laughed fondly. ‘Silly old Debs.’

  ‘Had she had it long?’

  ‘She’d had it for years. It was pretty important to her. She kept it in this jewellery box she had, right up in the top of her cupboard, hidden away with her treasures. She thought I didn’t know. Well, you know what girls are. She had this envelope of stuff that went with it. Pictures and writing. Egyptian or something. We found all that on her dressing table. Craig’s been looking at it.’ She pointed to a large yellow envelope on top of the TV.

  ‘Can I have a look?’ said Chess. She’d lost all her nerves. Without waiting for Annie to agree she went over and grabbed the envelope. Back in her chair she opened it and took out some sheets of paper. From where I sat I could see pictures pasted on the pages, and writing.

  ‘Did Debbie write all this herself?’ said Chess.

  ‘Yeah. She got it all from this other girl and copied it out. This girl gave her the necklace and told her it had magic powers, or something.’

  ‘Another girl?’ Chess looked up sharply.

  Annie glanced nervously at Tara. ‘Jeanette. Jeanette Carmody.’ She rushed on. ‘The necklace was Jeanette’s to start with. She used to bring it round. It wasn’t anything special. A little girl’s game for Debs. The Eye of Whatsit. She’d bring an old book too and they’d read it together and Debs would copy bits out. Jeanette was a bit older than Debs. She said when she wore the Eye of Ra, she could see into people’s evil hearts. And then Debs ended up with the necklace. She thought I didn’t know she had it. She loved to have things hidden away.

  ‘The other day she got it out and started wearing it. She didn’t believe the bit about magic powers. Maybe when she was little, but not this time. She was just mucking around, you know. She was saying it was a sign to someone that she knew their secret and that it would stir them right up. She didn’t mean anything by it. Not seriously. It was just a kind of joke.’

  Chess held the papers up. ‘Mrs Wilson —’

  ‘Annie.’

  ‘Annie, could I borrow these for a while?’

  ‘Oh, sweetie, I dunno.’

  ‘Just for a short time. I have a feeling I can find that necklace for you.’

  ‘Well, I suppose Craig doesn’t need to know …’

  Chess took this as agreement. She put the papers away and patted the envelope happily. I scowled at her.

  Annie went on, ‘It’s just that he’s very upset about all this. This whole Devastation Road thing. When Jeanette was killed —’

  ‘Killed?!’ Chess’s whole face went tense with excitement, and she let it show in her voice.

  ‘Eight years ago.’ Annie stopped suddenly. She glanced guiltily at Tara. ‘Sorry, Tara. You won’t want to be reminded.’ She put a hand
on Wando’s knee. ‘You poor buggers. You’ve been through nearly as much as me over Devastation Road.’

  But Chess was not concerned about Tara and Wando. She started to ask, ‘What was Jeanette —?’

  There was the sound of a car pulling up outside. Looking worried, Annie left the chair and moved across to see out the window.

  ‘Oh, now here’s Andrew. I didn’t think he’d be here this soon.’ Andrew’s arrival had rattled Annie. Her sentences became short and sharp. ‘They were going to get married. He’s gutted.’

  She looked at us as if she didn’t know what to do with us. ‘Look, you sit tight and have your coffees and things. I’ll just have a word with him.’

  She hovered uncertainly over us for a second longer and then left.

  ***

  When she had gone, Chess said, ‘This is getting interesting.’

  ‘You think so?’ said Tara, looking around her sourly.

  ‘Extremely,’ said Chess.

  Tara didn’t agree. Her spongy little mouth was drawn in tight. She slid her eyes from Chess to the flowers, eyeing them suspiciously as if she expected them to rush at her. She wasn’t comfortable in places like this. I wondered what her unit in Melbourne was like.

  Chess helped herself to more sandwiches and passed the plate to Wando. ‘This Jeanette —’

  ‘I hope you’re not going to start working on mysteries, Chess,’ I said, sounding like my parents and not caring. ‘These people have just lost a daughter.’

  But Chess drew a breath and opened her mouth to argue with me. There was obviously going to be no stopping her.

  ‘Hang on.’ I stood up in front of my chair and leaned over so that I could see out the window without standing too close to it.

  There was a white car in the driveway between the house and the sheds. Annie was talking to Andrew. She was about a head shorter than he was. She put an arm around his waist and gave a little shake.

  ‘OK,’ I said, sitting down, ‘But make it quick.’

  Chess had a sandwich poised in her long skinny fingers. ‘It’s just that there’s a pattern. It starts you thinking, doesn’t it? Jeanette Carmody owned the Eye of Ra. She talked about knowing secrets. She died. And then Deb. Puts on necklace. Talks about someone’s secret. Deb dies.’ She paused, mainly for effect, then suddenly she turned on Wando. ‘Why did the necklace upset you that day in the bakery, Wando? Had you seen it before? Did you know this Jeanette?’

  Wando leaned forward and fumbled his coffee cup with sausage fingers. He straightened to say something but then stopped with his mouth open.

  Chess could see she would get nowhere with him. She turned to me. ‘How was she killed?’

  ‘Can it, Chess,’ I hissed.

  Chess went on, ‘I still think Debbie’s death was suspicious. There are a lot of unanswered questions. And as for Jeanette, well I didn’t know her, but —’

  ‘No, you didn’t know her!’ Tara’s voice cracked with emotion.

  ‘Oh.’ Chess glanced at me, guiltily, knowing she’d gone too far.

  Suddenly I felt tired. A wave of sadness came out of nowhere. ‘We came here to talk about Debs,’ I said. ‘Not to make up murder stories.’

  At this point Annie came back in. ‘Sorry about that,’ she said. ‘I didn’t think he’d come this early.’ She hesitated. She seemed to be struggling to keep her mind on what she was saying. None of us said anything either, which didn’t help. Annie’s smile got tighter and more fake. The expression in her eyes was a bit like panic. ‘Andrew’s come to … We thought we might go through a few of Deb’s things and he wanted to be here. He’s trying to help. He knows I’ll keep putting it off otherwise.’ Now the smile was pure gargoyle. ‘I haven’t even stripped her bed yet.’

  I leaped to my feet. ‘We better go.’ It had been a reflex action and it had come out a lot more suddenly and rudely than I’d meant it to.

  That’s one big problem I have. I reckon I can read people all right, I mean, see how they’re feeling and everything — well, better than most people my age — but when it comes to actually showing how sensitive I am, and actually being helpful, I’ve basically got no idea what to do or say.

  Annie was looking at me blankly. The others were all rising slowly to their feet too. Chess picked up a couple more sandwiches. Bloody disaster. Matt Tingle, foot in mouth disease. But I couldn’t leave it like that. I wanted to make this visit mean something.

  ‘Thank you Annie,’ I said, trying to sound calm. ‘It was really nice of you to ask us here. We all feel more … We know you better … We’re really sorry about poor old Debs.’

  Brilliant, wasn’t it. Real poetry. I cursed myself silently. It put more tears in Annie’s eyes. Through them she gave me a look that was half grateful and half pitying. She touched me on the arm. ‘You’re a good kid, Matt.’

  The others were all standing there like deaf mutes letting me carry the whole thing. I resented that, but I wasn’t going to let Annie feel any worse than she had to.

  I tried again. ‘We’re really glad you asked us, but Chess and Wando have had about seventeen sandwiches each now, so I think it’s time we got going.’

  That gave us another stiff little laugh and got us all to the door and before much else was said we were out and heading down the driveway.

  Chapter 7

  We’d arranged to meet Tara’s father back at Chess’s place. It was his idea. He didn’t want to wait around at the Wilsons’ for us. I didn’t blame him. But it did leave us a nice little walk up Station Road.

  In the driveway it was very quiet. There was a lot of high dirty-looking cloud, giving the air a breathless feel, as if the day was waiting for something. At the sheds the three men were peering under the bonnet of an old ute. Andrew looked up as we went past. Chess gave another little wave, this time holding a half-eaten egg sandwich. He looked away again.

  There was no sign of the dog, but there was still rubbish scattered around the driveway. A few papers had stuck in the lavender.

  Chess started whispering at my shoulder. ‘This Jeanette — Tara and Wando knew her, didn’t they?’

  I tried to ignore her.

  She said, ‘And what about the lie?’

  ‘What lie?’

  ‘Didn’t you notice?’ Chess frowned. ‘Never mind. It could be nothing.’

  Suddenly I snapped. I kept my voice down but I hissed at her. ‘Chess! Just drop it! Can’t you see? Can’t you see anything? Tara is upset. Annie is just wrecked. Debbie is dead. Have some feelings for a change!’

  Chess having feelings? That was too much to hope for. All I drew was a blank look, but at least it shut her up for a while. Then she started to look miserable. Chess really hated it when anyone went off at her. Surprising, really. With a personality like hers, you’d think she’d get enough practice. But she really hated it. She seemed to shrink into herself. I knew it wouldn’t last long, but it gave me something else to feel bad about.

  Three drops of rain fell and then stopped.

  Wando had gone ahead of us. Now he stopped in the driveway, hands on knees, slouching over something. He reached down and picked up a small piece of paper. No one paid him much attention. All morning he’d hardly said a word, just tagged along with us like a clumsy, unhappy shadow.

  But now he held the paper out to Tara. ‘Look at this.’ His voice held a lot of emotion, as if the paper was important.

  We all gathered around. With the tips of her fingers, Tara smoothed the paper out.

  I’ve often wondered what it means in books when they say someone’s blood ran cold, but I can now say that if you get a bad enough shock that’s exactly what it feels like. As I read the note, an icy chill spread out, from somewhere in my internal organs to the tip of every finger and toe.

  ‘I KNOW YOU KILLED HER.’

  The note trembled in Tara’s hands. She made a kind of squawk. My mouth fell open.

  ‘Where was this Wando?’ asked Chess, instantly forgetting her sulks.

&nbs
p; ‘On the driveway, there. There was a rock on it.’

  ‘You mean someone’s put it there?’

  ‘It was only a bit under. It might have just got caught.’

  I’d got over the first shock, now. The thing was starting to seem like a bad joke. I tried a tight laugh. ‘Well. This is weird.’

  ‘It’s about Debbie,’ said Tara. ‘What does it mean?’ She looked at the men at the sheds. ‘Who’s it for?’

  Tara had gone pale. We were probably all pale.

  ‘Someone just dropped it. Majorly creepy, yeah, but it doesn’t mean us.’

  The three men all moved out of sight behind the sheds. Tara turned back to me and her eyes hardened.

  ‘Well, who does it mean then? And who wrote it? I don’t think this is funny, Matt. Someone thinks Debbie was murdered. And they think they know who did it.’

  Chapter 8

  On Station Road, Chess pushed at my arm, wanting me to drop back.

  ‘That note —’

  ‘Don’t worry about it, Chess,’ I said. ‘It’s bull dust. That Craig Wilson is a schizo.’

  ‘Is that who put it there, do you think?’

  ‘Has to be. Or maybe Andrew dropped it. I dunno. But it’s such a sick kind of thing, my money’s on Craig.’

  Chess was still holding Deb’s yellow envelope. As we walked along she’d been reading some of the pages, but she tripped a few times and shoved them back in the envelope. Somehow she also had the note. She studied it for a while and then nodded towards Tara and Wando. ‘So Tara thinks someone put it there for us to find, as a kind of message.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘But it would be an odd thing to do. Put a note on the driveway for anyone to see.’

  ‘Craig is odd.’

  Chess wouldn’t have this. She began lecturing me on why I was wrong. ‘Surely if he thought one of us had drowned his sister he’d be more likely to charge out and accuse us to our faces. Or tell the police. And it’s too vague. “I know you killed her.” Who is “you”? All of us? And apart from all that, what could possibly make him think we did it?’

 

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