Craven (9781921997365)

by Casey, Melanie

  I headed for the lift.

  ‘Miss Lehman?’

  I turned at the voice. It was Rick Bennet, the head of the department.

  ‘Oh, hello, Mr Bennet. How are you?’

  ‘I’m fine. Can I have a word?’

  ‘Oh, um, sure, of course.’ My fantasy of drinks with Dan evaporated.

  ‘This way please.’ He gestured towards his office.

  I followed him, wondering what on earth he wanted and why he’d waited until Friday afternoon to talk to me about it. I hadn’t seen him all week but Claire had told me that was pretty normal. He wasn’t known for welcoming new staff members. You only heard from him when there was a problem. I wondered what my problem was. Had someone complained about my tutorials? Maybe I was a terrible tutor.

  ‘Have a seat.’

  I sat in an uncomfortable leather chair on the visitor’s side of the desk while he slid into his own. He was a gaunt man with a morose expression who looked like he never ate and had forgotten how to smile; that’s assuming he knew how in the first place.

  ‘We’ve had complaints …’ He looked at me with basset-hound eyes.

  ‘Oh, really? I’m sorry, I thought I was doing a good job. The students seem to be responding well …’

  ‘Not about your teaching.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘About your other abilities. You claim to be a psychic of some sort?’

  ‘I helped the police with the Fleurieu serial killer case last year.’

  ‘I see.’ The silence stretched. He gazed off somewhere over my left shoulder.

  ‘Is that a problem?’ I asked.

  ‘Some parents have complained to the Dean. They think it’s inappropriate for us to have staff members who dabble in the occult.’

  ‘I don’t dabble in the occult!’ A hot flush started to creep up my neck and cheeks. Some pompous religious zealot had complained about me! How dare they? I took a breath to try to bring my racing pulse back to normal. ‘I don’t talk about it with the students. It’s not something I like to publicise. I certainly don’t practice magic or anything like that. My gift is something I was born with. It runs in my family. I can’t choose not to have it. I don’t know why anyone would find that inappropriate, but what I do know is that it doesn’t interfere with my ability as an editor or a tutor.’

  ‘I really think it’s something you should have disclosed when applying for the position. If I receive any more complaints I’m afraid I’ll have no choice but to review our decision to appoint you to the teaching staff.’

  ‘Right, I see.’ I stood up. ‘Was there anything else?’

  ‘No, Miss Lehman, that’s all for now.’

  I walked out of his office almost shaking with rage. I was going to be sacked if anyone else complained about my psychic abilities. How the hell did that work? Could I take it to the Fair Work Commission? That’d be a first.

  I stood in the car park with my keys in my hand, staring at my little blue car with its grubby paintwork, smeary windows and four jet-black, brand-new tyres. Those tyres bothered me. They were a constant reminder of the vandalism. I yanked the door open and got in, thrusting the key into the ignition without starting the car. I let my hand drop to my lap and leant back, staring vacantly through the windscreen.

  When I’d stopped by security there was no sign of Dan. I was too embarrassed to ask the guard on duty if he was around. There’d be no after-work drinks with a spunky companion.

  The prospect of a whole weekend of my own company stretched ahead. The last thing I wanted was to spend two days raking over the ashes of my dreams about a fresh start.

  A knock on the car window made me jump. My heart thundered and, panicking, I stared at the face on the other side of the glass. It took a moment for me to realise it was one of the other tutors: Lachlan something-or-other. I wound down the window.

  ‘Are you all right? It’s Cass, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, it is. I’m fine, why?’

  ‘Oh, you were just sitting there. I thought maybe you were feeling sick or something.’

  ‘No, I’m fine, thanks.’

  ‘Some of us are getting together for a few drinks later tonight if you’d like to join us?’

  ‘Oh, um, maybe. Where?’ My hopes lifted. Possibly my social life wasn’t a total disaster after all.

  ‘At the Gov.’

  ‘The Gov?’

  ‘Yes, the Governor Hindmarsh. It’s a nice old suburban pub a couple of clicks out of the city. There’s usually live music on a Friday night. We’d love it if you could join us. We’re all dying to hear about your gift. Were you really kidnapped by a serial killer?’

  My stomach sank into my boots and I had to stifle a heavy sigh. They only wanted to socialise with me because of my gift.

  ‘I’m sorry, I can’t. I’m heading back to my home town for the weekend. Thanks for the invitation, though.’ There was no point in being rude and getting his back up.

  ‘Well, perhaps another time?’

  ‘Perhaps.’ I watched as he sauntered away.

  I hadn’t planned on a trip back to Jewel Bay for the weekend but suddenly it seemed like an outstanding idea. Lachlan’s none-too-subtle curiosity coupled with Bennet’s grilling was a fitting end to a totally crappy first week.

  I fished my mobile out of my bag and dialled Claire’s number. She’d mentioned catching up for a coffee on Sunday, probably to do a post-mortem on her Saturday-night date. The call went through to voicemail.

  ‘Hey Claire, I won’t be able to catch up this weekend. I’ve decided to head back to Jewel Bay to see Mum and Gran. I’ll catch you next week.’

  I pulled out of the car park and rejoined my self-pity party. My life had definitely turned to shit. Instead of finding a new life where no one knew about my gift, I’d ended up as some kind of minor celebrity. I had students queuing up to be in my tutorials, the teaching staff trying to pump me for gory details, parents complaining and at least one person who was out to get me, two if you counted Bennet.

  What I really needed was the comfort of being with people who loved me. A couple of days of Gran’s cooking wouldn’t go amiss either.

  CHAPTER

  13

  I let myself in through the front door and wandered into the dimly lit hallway. It was past 7pm and Mum and Gran would have finished their dinner long ago; they kept pensioner hours in the winter months. The kitchen was in darkness but I could hear the murmur of the television coming from the lounge room. I stood there and let the comforting familiarity soothe away the stress of the week.

  The closer I’d got to home the better I’d felt. When I’d turned off the main road and hit the final stretch of winding road along the coastal cliff tops, I’d felt happier than I had in days.

  I pushed my way through the sliding doors into the lounge room. The sight in front of me completed the healing process. A lump formed in my throat. Mum was sitting on the couch watching something awful on TV with Shadow oozing off her lap. Her riot of red hair was pulled back into a severe bun. Gran was tucked into a recliner, reading under one of the many lamps that juggled for space amongst the occasional tables. Her darker hair was threaded with grey, but she still looked a lot younger than her seventy-odd years and her olive skin glowed with an inner light. Their heads swung around at my entrance.

  ‘Cass! What are you doing here?’ Mum said, beaming at me.

  ‘Hello, sweetheart! Come and warm yourself. Have you eaten?’ Gran smiled but I knew she was scrutinising every millimetre of my face. I could never hide anything from her. She always knew when I’d been upset or anxious.

  ‘No, I left straight from university. I could eat a horse.’ I walked over to pat Shadow. I’d missed him too. He raised his head and gazed at me from half-closed lids before shuffling his substantial bulk and turning his back on me.

  ‘I guess I’m in the bad books,’ I said.

  ‘Don’t mind him. He’ll get over it. He’s letting you know he doesn’t approve of your absence,�
�� Mum said.

  ‘I’ve got some leftovers in the fridge. Would you like some chicken pie?’ Gran said.

  My mouth watered. ‘I’d love some, Gran. I’ve missed your cooking.’

  ‘Just my cooking?’ She laughed and stood up.

  I flushed. ‘No, you know what I mean! I’ve missed both you and your cooking. Sit down. I’ll get it.’

  ‘No, I’m happy to have a stretch and get myself another cup of tea at the same time. Anita, do you want anything?’

  ‘No, thanks.’

  Gran ambled out of the room and I sank into the couch next to Mum, punching the donkey brown, velvet-covered feather cushions to mould them to my back.

  ‘I want to watch the end of this show and see who got voted out last night and then you can tell me all about your week. I had a couple of readings last night that went longer than I expected so I missed the elimination; very annoying,’ Mum said.

  I smiled. Mum was a passionate devotee of trashy TV. Anything that involved people making fools of themselves generally had her glued to the box. I watched as a group of people sat around arguing. I couldn’t see the attraction.

  ‘Here you go.’ Gran came back hefting a tray that she deposited on a side table with a loud thump. On it was a plate of steaming chicken pie with mashed potatoes and gravy. Next to the pie was a slab of homemade bread lavishly buttered and to top it off there was an enormous bowl of trifle jostling for space. My mouth watered.

  ‘I’ll be going for a walk tomorrow by the looks of things,’ I said.

  ‘Yes, we were planning a walk right around to Boomer Beach tomorrow if you’re keen.’

  ‘Count me in.’ I started to shovel mouthfuls of pie and potato. My cheeks ached as my tastebuds kicked into high gear.

  Mum and Gran waited until I’d licked every last bit of trifle off my spoon before the questions started.

  ‘So, how did it go?’ Gran asked.

  ‘It was horrible.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure you weren’t that bad,’ Mum said.

  ‘Gee, thanks Mum! No, it wasn’t my teaching. It was the fact that everyone worked out who I was after the first day.’

  ‘Oh? I’m surprised. I didn’t think people would remember,’ Mum said.

  ‘It only took one to recognise me and then word got around.’

  ‘Did they give you a hard time?’ Gran said.

  ‘No.’ I dropped my eyes and tugged at my hair.

  ‘Cass …’ Gran let my name hang in the air.

  There was no point in lying, I was terrible at it and Mum and Gran would see through me in a heartbeat.

  I sighed. ‘Someone vandalised my car.’

  ‘Oh no! Did they do much damage?’

  ‘They threw some animal blood on it and slashed the tyres.’

  Mum’s brows beetled. She didn’t often look fierce but she did at that moment.

  ‘I’d like to get my hands on the little shit that did it!’ she said.

  ‘Anita!’ Gran said.

  ‘Don’t kid yourself. If you had the chance you’d give them a good kick up the bum too.’ She glared at Gran.

  ‘I suppose I would.’

  I had a sudden mental image of Mum catching the person who’d done it and giving them a thorough spanking while Gran lectured them on appropriate behaviour. I laughed, then seeing their puzzled looks I shared the thought. Soon we were all laughing. It felt good to release the tension in the room.

  ‘So what else?’ Mum finally asked, taking a ragged breath and wiping away a few tears.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well you can’t tell me that there’s nothing else bothering you. The vandalism is terrible but you said it happened on Wednesday night. Something else must have happened to land you on our doorstep.’

  ‘Can’t I just come home because I want to see you?’

  ‘Of course you can, dear, but normally you’d tell us you were coming. You’d better tell us the rest. Your mother’s been having bad dreams about you all week. We know there’s more,’ Gran said.

  I should have known I’d have to tell them everything. It always ended up that way. ‘I’ve got an unsolved murder on my conscience, parents have been complaining about me, my boss thinks I’m a liability that he’d rather not have to deal with and I called Ed when I found my car damaged.’

  ‘That’s a busy first week,’ Gran said. She forced a smile but lines of worry creased her brow.

  ‘Did Ed come and help you?’

  ‘Yes, of course he did! He’s not a complete arsehole, despite what you think. You used to like him, you know.’

  ‘I still like most of him but I think he has poor judgement,’ Gran said.

  ‘That makes two of us,’ I said.

  ‘Will you see him again?’ Mum asked. It was a question that I’d been asking myself pretty much non-stop since Wednesday night. Would I? Picking up the phone to call him had put a major dent in my pride. I’d been determined not to be the one to make contact.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘You were right to call him,’ Gran said, showing her knack for getting inside my head. Sometimes I wondered if her version of the family gift wasn’t broader than an ability to heal. She was uncannily intuitive.

  ‘I felt like I’d let myself down somehow.’

  ‘No, no matter what we’ve said about Ed’s choice and the way he up and left you, your mother and I both think he’s a good man. It makes us feel better about you being so far away if we know that you’ll ask him for help if you need it.’

  ‘I don’t know Gran, I wasn’t really planning on making a habit of it.’

  ‘Your gran’s right, Cass. Please, promise me that if anything else happens you’ll go to him for help. We know he’ll look after you.’

  ‘I don’t need looking after!’ I sat up straight, frowning.

  ‘What Anita means is that he’ll make sure that you get any help you need.’

  I looked from one to the other. Their frowns were almost identical despite the difference in their looks. I gave myself a mental slap. I’d been so busy wallowing in my own soap opera that I hadn’t been thinking about how it made them feel. Guilt flooded over me. They’d both sleep better knowing I had a safety net in the form of the despicable Detective Dyson. I had to swallow my pride.

  ‘OK. I promise I’ll call him if anything else happens. It won’t, though. It was just some stupid kid being a smart-arse. I’m sure they’ve got it out of their system now.’

  CHAPTER

  14

  I meant to leave Jewel Bay after lunch on Sunday but I couldn’t seem to pry myself away. I’d missed home. I’d missed Mum and Gran. The weekend hours were devoured by a full schedule of walking, talking, cooking and eating. The rhythm of the house sucked me back in with zero resistance on my part. By Saturday night I was beginning to wonder why moving to Adelaide had seemed like a good idea at all.

  If I hadn’t had office hours on Monday and Tuesday I probably would have stayed even longer. Mum was happily complicit in keeping me home until the last possible moment. It was Gran who finally pushed me out the door.

  ‘If you don’t go soon you’ll be too tired to drive. I don’t want to spend the whole two hours you’re on the road worrying about whether or not you’ll make it in one piece!’ She passed me the cooler she’d packed. It was full of containers brimming with generous serves for one.

  Reluctantly I pushed my chair back and stood up. I didn’t want to leave the warmth of the kitchen but I knew she was right. It was dangerous to drive country roads tired.

  ‘All right, I’m going! I’ll call you when I get in, OK? Thanks for the food, Gran. You don’t have to do that, you know.’

  ‘I know I don’t have to, I like to know you’re eating well.’

  ‘Always!’ I walked over and gave her a kiss then turned to Mum who was sitting at the table hunched over a cup of tea.

  ‘Be careful,’ she said.

  ‘I will.’ I leant over and kissed her cheek. ‘Love you,
both.’

  ‘We love you too.’ She sniffed. ‘Next weekend?’

  I sighed. At that moment the idea seemed irresistible but if I was really going to make it on my own I couldn’t run home every weekend. ‘I don’t know, Mum. I’ll call you.’

  ‘All right.’ The hunch of her shoulders reminded me a lot of Shadow turning his back.

  Driving into the dusk, I felt like I was leaving behind the only people in the world who really cared about me in exchange for another week of feeling like a goldfish in a bowl. It wasn’t long before my vision started to blur around the edges. I wound down the window to let in some cold air and cranked up the radio.

  The night drive back to Adelaide was monotonous. There was nothing to see but the endless procession of tail-lights and headlights – rubies and diamonds was how Gran had described them to me as a child.

  Lots of people shuffled backwards and forwards between Adelaide and the Fleurieu Peninsula every weekend. The southern beaches and rugged coastline were a tonic that soothed away the stress of the rat-race. There was something mesmerising about the relentless battering of the waves against the ruddy rocks and cliffs that kept people coming even in the months when the wind clawed at the skin on your face until it felt raw and the chill soaked into the marrow of your bones.

  Leaving Jewel Bay made me realise how much the sea was in my blood. I felt incomplete when I was surrounded by suburbia and there was no background thrumming of waves on the shoreline. For the first half-hour of my trip, every kilometre that ticked over on the odometer made me feel more fractured. I wondered if I’d shatter into a thousand pieces before I reached Adelaide.

  Thankfully my dark moods pass as quickly as a summer storm and the fugue gradually started to lift when I hit the Southern Expressway. By the time I reached the outskirts of suburbia I was feeling a bit more optimistic. Maybe the worst was over now that everyone knew who I was; I would be a fifteen-minute wonder, then people would forget about me and I could blend in with the crowd.