This I Would Kill For

by Anne Buist

  ‘You’ll do it tonight?’ Natalie felt her stomach sink as she remembered Chelsea’s look. She’d asked the girl to trust her.

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Can I come?’

  ‘What? Why?’

  ‘I’m working with Chelsea. I’m worried she’ll blame herself. And she doesn’t know any of you guys. She’s already been traumatised enough, so if I can go with her to her grandparents’…’

  ‘Makes sense. And if I have to do after-hours, I guess you can too. Meet you outside Jenna’s house in an hour.’

  The house that had once been both Jenna’s and Malik’s was a small stand-alone weatherboard along a narrow street where inner-city hip met the burbs. Some of the houses had been renovated, with landscaped gardens and windows craning for city views. Others, like Jenna’s, had peeling paint and eighties-style balconies.

  They spent three minutes banging on the front door, to no response. Natalie was pretty sure there had been music on when they’d arrived. It was nine o’clock so the children would have been in bed—but Jenna must have seen them coming from the window of the front room.

  ‘Jenna,’ Winona finally yelled, ‘we know you’re there. If you don’t open up we’ll call the police.’

  There was a sound from the other side of the door and it flew open. Jenna stood in the doorway. ‘What do you want?’ She saw Natalie and for a moment looked shocked.

  ‘We need to confirm that the children are safe,’ said Winona, looking into the darkness beyond Jenna.

  ‘Well they are.’ Jenna started to close the door but Winona put her foot in it.

  ‘We’ll just come back with the cops, Jenna.’

  ‘You do that.’ Jenna flashed Natalie a look of unalloyed fury. She kept pushing the door until Winona removed her foot.

  ‘What now?’ said Natalie.

  ‘We get the police,’ said Winona, stepping gingerly on the door-stop foot.

  ‘By which time Luke will have done a runner.’

  ‘And we’ll be sitting in the car watching. I have tinted windows for a reason.’ Her car was also a good deal less obvious than the yellow Lotus.

  It took half an hour for a police car to cruise down the street. But by that stage they had seen a skinny tall man in his late twenties or early thirties leaving, tucking his shirt into his trousers and looking around furtively. Natalie had her phone out and took what she hoped was a photo; the screen was barely visible since she’d thrown it across her warehouse.

  ‘Probably won’t need it,’ said Winona. ‘My guess is it’ll take the cops less than half an hour to work who he is and where he lives.’

  Jenna opened the door sullenly to one bald cop and one red-haired one.

  ‘We saw him leave, Jenna,’ said Winona. ‘So you can either tell us his name or not, your choice. But we’re taking the children to your parents’.’

  Jenna looked like she was going to faint. ‘You can’t. I made him go. No way would he ever touch my kids.’

  ‘I asked you to promise to not have him here, Jenna,’ said Natalie. Jenna really seemed to believe he wasn’t responsible. And her children would suffer for her poor judgment.

  ‘You don’t frickin’ know anything.’ Jenna’s scream made them all jump—which, fortunately for Natalie, put the bald copper in between her and Jenna so his chest got the brunt of the slap that had been aimed at her. The constable held Jenna’s arms firmly.

  ‘It’s not Luke. Why the frickin’ hell do you think I had to hide him? Because I knew what you lot’—she looked angrily at Winona—‘would think. But I know it isn’t. Now they’ll give her back to Malik.’

  ‘You need to calm down Jenna,’ said Winona. It was clear that she had done this too many times; she looked weary but showed none of the emotions Natalie was wrestling with.

  ‘For Chelsea and Chris’s sake,’ Natalie added. This got a result. Jenna started sobbing and slumped; constable baldy lowered her into a chair.

  ‘Will you ring your parents, Jenna, or will I?’ Winona was sticking to protocol. The order helped Jenna regroup. The phone call was short and after she hung up she went to get Chris and Chelsea, who appeared ten minutes later in dressing gowns and slippers. Chris looked like he had been woken; Chelsea looked scared but managed a small smile for Natalie.

  This time it was Jenna’s haunted look that lodged in Natalie’s mind as Winona ushered the kids out the door. The resonance with Chelsea’s was startling, and again Natalie’s mind took her back to earlier in the day: the look of dissociation, if that’s what it was, when Natalie had confronted her about the boyfriend.

  ‘The children will have to go with me,’ said Winona, looking at the Lotus. Not a standard issue government car—besides it only took one passenger.

  ‘I’ll come back and get it later.’ Natalie wanted to stay with Chelsea. She had a promise to keep.

  She gave the girl a hug and sat in the back seat with her and her brother.

  ‘Your mum loves you,’ said Natalie softly. ‘She’ll get help, okay? You don’t need to worry about her.’

  Chelsea nodded silently. Later during the drive she snuck her hand into Natalie’s and it stayed there until they drew up in front of a large double-storey house in Balwyn. Established middle class. Chelsea’s hand tightened. ‘I want my mummy.’

  ‘I know, Chelsea,’ said Natalie. ‘This is only temporary, okay? And I’m sure your mum will come and stay here too until it gets sorted.’

  ‘And Daddy?’

  ‘Maybe you’ll get to see Daddy now, too.’

  There was a small brief smile; but tears were still running down Chelsea’s cheeks as Mickie engulfed her. Stephen stood on the porch, looking drawn.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ Winona muttered.

  ‘What?’ But then Natalie got it too. Mickie smelled like a brewery.

  Chelsea wriggled away. She looked to her grandfather and then Natalie, her anxiety palpable.

  Why was nothing ever easy?

  ‘Come Chelsea, Chris.’ Stephen Radford moved to help his wife stand upright. He looked vaguely apologetic. The children didn’t move, turning as Jenna’s car drew up. Chelsea ran to her mother but Chris stepped closer to his grandfather, looking dazed.

  ‘I’ll look after them all,’ Stephen said to Winona and Natalie. ‘I always have.’ His gaze, resting on Natalie, seemed to suggest he would do a better job than she had.

  Winona left the children in Jenna’s and her father’s care, then dropped Natalie back at her car. It was midnight. Natalie had half a dozen messages and missed calls from Liam. To make matters worse, someone had dragged a key along the entire length of the Lotus. Natalie fancied Jenna or Luke as the perpetrator and wondered how many days’—or weeks’—work it would take to pay for the paint job. She left the car at Liam’s apartment with a note under the windscreen wiper and caught a cab home without talking to him.

  47

  At 6 a.m. Natalie lay looking at the ceiling, wondering what had woken her.

  Guilt. The feeling was there again, wrapped around a sense of longing and fear. The bean turned over.

  ‘Great, kid,’ said Natalie, wondering if its early-morning gymnastics had roused her, rather than her memories telling her she was the cause of her father leaving. No amount of I was only a child seemed to settle it. Perhaps because she no longer felt affinity with the child she had been then. But this feeling was not just the usual emptiness that came with the image of a one-eyed teddy bear. Its replacement, the yellow teddy, was sitting next to her bed watching her. ‘No, it’s not about you,’ Natalie muttered and turned it face down.

  Jenna. Or Chelsea. Something about them was gnawing at her. She couldn’t pinpoint what. Surely nailing down what Jenna was hiding had solved the mystery? Her mind oscillated between the two; mother and daughter. Repeating patterns. Like her with the bean’s father, mirroring her own mother and her father. Except Damian was going to be around. She hadn’t completely repeated the pattern. He had sent a text saying Hi, how’s it going? She h
adn’t responded, hadn’t acknowledged the flowers. Didn’t know what to say, or what she felt. She knew he’d be a good dad, though. As Liam was.

  As Jenna had thought Malik would be. And then had thought Luke was. Her own needs had clouded her judgment. Natalie was certain hers wouldn’t. Almost certain. Unlike Jenna she didn’t need a man for her sense of self-worth. She had lived alone a long time, could continue to do so. Wanting Liam wasn’t the same as needing him. Anyway, she was pushing him away so hard he’d give up eventually.

  Natalie pulled herself out of bed in frustration. She had almost reached the place where her mind would reveal the message it was holding for her, but mundane realities had intervened again. Maybe she just needed to deal with that and let the court deal with Jenna and Chelsea.

  But after she’d showered and sat down with the paper, the worry at the back of her mind was gnawing at her again—a nagging, irrational sense that Jenna was right. Was she overanalysing or was there a seed of something germinating?

  Luke. Just because Jenna had hidden his existence didn’t mean he was abusing Chelsea. Natalie reflected back on her sessions with Chelsea. The monster had been nonspecific. Chelsea hated Luke—but it might only be because he had replaced her father.

  Natalie might have been blinkered by her obsession with good fathers. What if it wasn’t a father at all—or at least not Chelsea’s? What about Ted Beahre? Or Youssef? Or Matilda’s father?

  Natalie was about to head into Yarra Bend but she rang and said she’d be in late morning. Instead, she went to the Children’s Court.

  Winona was standing outside Courtroom 2, talking to Harvey Alcock. Probably not enough notice for the Dictator. Or else this hearing was straightforward. Maybe Katlego Okeke had them worried about wasting taxpayers’ money. Winona looked surprised to see Natalie.

  ‘We don’t need to call you,’ said Alcock, tucking his shirt into his trousers.

  ‘It could be the schoolteacher.’

  Alcock raised an eyebrow. Winona frowned. ‘What makes you think that?’

  ‘No one wanted to point the finger at him,’ said Natalie. ‘But Chelsea was trying to miss sport. And there had been another issue with him about supporting a dad seeing his kid. The point is, Chelsea doesn’t like Luke but she didn’t actually say he was the abuser.’

  ‘It’s always the de facto,’ said Winona. ‘It was the reason I liked Malik for it—he didn’t change Chelsea’s nappies, just came along later. Same thing with Luke. Takes on the mother but with the eye on the daughter; seen it happen over and over, and the women can’t see what’s going on in front of their eyes.’

  Because they don’t want to and…Natalie lost the thought as Winona continued.

  ‘Same with the straight physical abuse—I’ve had two tragedies in the last year because the mother’s left the kid with a de facto who had a short fuse. Subdural haemorrhage, both of them. One died in hospital, other’s brain damaged.’

  Natalie thought of how hard it must be for a male primary school teacher: much less opportunity than a partner to abuse the child, and a lot more scrutiny. Winona was probably right. Probably.

  Because of the short notice, neither Jenna nor Malik nor their lawyers were present and the duty magistrate was not Louise Perkins.

  Magistrate Kincaid seemed to do a perfunctory read, then looked at Alcock. ‘So what are you proposing?’

  ‘That the mother reside with her parents.’

  ‘So the maternal grandparents will have custody?’

  ‘Yes, your Honour, technically.’

  Kincaid frowned. ‘Technically. What does that mean?’

  Alcock briefly conferred with Winona. ‘The maternal grandmother is still being assessed.’

  Meaning they weren’t sure if Mickie could keep off the booze.

  ‘And the father? Mr…Essa?’

  ‘We can leave that until the hearing with her Honour, Louise Perkins.’

  Kincaid frowned. ‘But you are saying there is now no suggestion that the father has been abusing the child? And there are concerns about the maternal grandmother?’

  ‘Malik’s not Chelsea’s father.’ Jenna had burst through the doors, looking flustered, and yelling. Li Yang was at her side.

  Kincaid frowned.

  ‘Li Yang, your Honour,’ she said crisply. ‘Technically Mr Essa adopted my client’s older child, but we maintain that he is abusing her and my client opposes any access.’

  Kincaid looked irritated. ‘This is the case, is it not, that has attracted the attention of the media?’ He glared at Alcock. ‘Where’s your QC?’

  ‘Your Honour, this is an emergency hearing. We discovered only last night that Ms Radford had been exposing her children to an abusive de facto.’

  ‘Your Honour, there is no evidence of that at all,’ said Li Yang. Of abuse or the exposure? Natalie felt increasingly that this hearing was going to be one-sided.

  ‘Sit down Ms Yang.’ Kincaid was going a gentle shade of puce. ‘Mr Alcock, where are the children now?’

  ‘With my parents,’ Jenna interjected. ‘But I want them with me.’ Her agitation was evident—she looked like she hadn’t slept.

  ‘Ms Yang, have your client remain quiet or I’ll evict her.’ Kincaid sounded as if his preference would have been to evict everyone. He turned to Alcock. ‘Are they safe or not with the Radfords?’

  ‘Well your Honour…’

  Natalie couldn’t contain herself any longer. ‘They could go to the paternal grandmother.’

  ‘No! Malik will get them then.’ Jenna’s outburst had her lawyer yanking hard on her arm.

  Kincaid looked back and forth between Jenna and Natalie, and settled on Natalie. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘Chelsea’s psychiatrist.’

  Kincaid rubbed his temples. ‘Let’s swear you in then and see what sense you make of this.’

  As Natalie recited the oath, Li Yang and Jenna began a hurried exchange while Alcock and Winona did likewise.

  ‘So, Doctor King,’ said the magistrate. ‘Are you able to shed any light on where the Essa children could be placed?’

  ‘Chelsea is showing definite signs of being abused,’ said Natalie. ‘But it still isn’t clear by whom, and…the man we…I and Protective Services…. saw leaving Jenna’s house last night, has yet to be investigated. I believe.’

  Harvey cleared his throat. ‘May I ask the witness some questions?’

  ‘Yes, yes; and then you also, Ms Yang. But—’ The magistrate indicated his watch.

  ‘And what do you know about this man, Doctor King?’ said Alcock.

  ‘Jenna had denied she was seeing anyone; he may work with her.’ Natalie saw Jenna look down. ‘And Chelsea doesn’t like him.’

  ‘What are your concerns about the Radfords?’

  ‘Mrs Radford apparently drinks. Jenna has mentioned this and she was intoxicated when we dropped the children there last night.’

  Kincaid rolled his eyes.

  ‘And is Ms Radford capable of caring for her children at her parents’ house?’

  Was she? There was something nagging at Natalie, but was it Jenna or her own dreams? She thought of her assessments: impartial. ‘From what I’ve seen, yes.’

  Alcock had the answer he wanted. Li Yang was on her feet.

  ‘Are you a hundred per cent positive that Mr Essa is not abusing Chelsea?’

  One hundred per cent? Was it ever possible to be that certain of anything? ‘I am as confident as I can be in dealing with a confused eight-year-old. She clearly loves him and he her.’

  ‘The abuse started after he started having access, Doctor King.’ Li Yang turned to Kincaid. ‘We have had a professor of psychiatry stating he is a psychopath and bad parent.’

  Natalie felt sick. She was sure she was right…she had to be. She thought of Wadhwa talking about his nose twitching; the bulls in the pen together. Li Yang was looking at her as if she was the Antichrist.

  ‘Associate Professor Wadhwa did not see Mr Essa with Chelsea, no
r did he see Chelsea herself. I have. Individual sessions as well as the ones with her parents.’ Natalie knew she sounded defensive and wished she could be more detached. For court, at least.

  ‘Are you really so sure, Doctor King, that you’d risk exposing an innocent eight-year-old to more abuse?’

  I’m not the one who hid the boyfriend, Natalie wanted to scream. Her head started to ache and her vision was going fuzzy. When she closed her eyes the one-eyed teddy bear was staring accusingly at her.

  ‘Are you so confident that Mrs Essa will not leave her son alone with the children?’ Li Yang continued.

  Natalie paused. Thought about Youssef. About Malik saying he’d kill the abuser if he found him and wondered if that would extend to family. ‘I…Mrs Essa has organised rooms for the two children at her house.’ There, they would be safe, surely. ‘But…no, I can’t guarantee she won’t leave her sons with them.’ Or hightail it to the Middle East with them in shipping containers. She thought of Okeke, took a deep breath. ‘I do not know if there is any foundation to the concern, but Malik’s brother is going to Egypt and Jenna has raised concerns they might try to take the children.’

  ‘Do the children have passports?’

  ‘No, your Honour,’ Li Yang said. Reluctantly.

  Kincaid drummed his fingers on the table. ‘This needs to be dealt with by her Honour, Louise Perkins. This court only needs to deal with a short-term solution to keep the child safe, not ensure parental rights or establish who is abusing the child.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘You, Ms Radford, lied. Therefore, I cannot possibly trust your judgment and am frankly sick of parents thinking they can wave the abuse card willy-nilly without evidence. And we do have evidence you and your mother are unsuitable—’ He glared at Alcock. ‘I see your case comes up in three weeks and that paternal access with his mother supervising was only ceased after the abuse became apparent, of which Doctor King has cleared him. I note he hasn’t been given a chance to be here today, but assuming he and his mother are still able to have the children, Protective Services is to deliver them to Mrs Essa’s this afternoon.’

  Jenna was still screaming when the security guards came in, and Natalie stood up, only to find the dizziness escalating to send stars into her vision until she fainted.