by C. J. Lau
Chapter 20
The car parked out front of my house spells trouble. Especially with the fogged up windows telling me Solo’s been waiting inside a long time.
I think briefly of just driving off back to Carol’s, but no, better to get this over with. I park and get out, ready to enjoy my holidays once I’m rid of him.
He storms out of his car, coming straight towards me. Predictable.
“I’ve been waiting.” His eyes burn into me.
I shrug him off. “I crashed at Carol’s. Was waiting for—” Stop myself in time. Was waiting for Cat to return from her jog. But she ran back to her place instead. None of which Solo needs to know.
I put on a frustrated voice. “What do you want Solo?”
He doesn’t notice. “Roachey messaged me yesterday. Said you called—”
I cut him off. “Yes. So?”
“Why do you care if I’m in town?” he growls, and it feels good to get under his skin after what he’s done.
I’m coy, “Someone’s been sending threatening letters. Childish things like a jaded ex-boyfriend might do.” Choose words aimed to hurt, “Do you know anyone like that? Where have you been the last few days anyway?” I ask with all the tenacity I can. Wish someone else could see the look on his face.
But we’re alone here on the street.
“I’ve been watching my girlfriend play hockey,” Solo sneers. My girlfriend, is it? ”I wouldn’t threaten you or the team anyway.”
“How did you know the threats were about the team?” A trap set, even as he moves closer. Nostrils flaring.
“Because everything you do is about your stupid team and their fearless leader, Sam!” he shouts. “You left me and the life you had for the team. It’s all you care about now.” So close his saliva flicks my face. “That or Cat the local hero back in town.”
Of course. Light bulb, despite his screams ringing in my ears. Local news travels far. And Cat made the news.
The news didn’t report Sam stepping down. The Keene’s making sure of that. And I’m not in a mood to share.
He’s on a roll now, “I don’t want you. All you ever did was tease and then leave…”
His insult stings, but I’m too engaged in this battle to let it show. Instead, I wink at him. “You were okay with it at the time—” changing tact, “why the interest in my team all of a sudden? Maybe if you’d done that earlier you would still have me.” I risk firing back. Know he isn’t behind the notes. So the sooner he’s gone the better.
His turn to cut off my taunts. “I want your stupid team in the Finals. Why? Because Wollongong will be there and I want to see Candace kick your girls off the face of the earth!” Solo’s attack cut again.
I hold it together. Need to. If he wants war I’ll give as good as I’m getting.
I push my finger into his chest. “I was so in love. You never realised—I thought you were different. But nope! I hope she’s legal, or else you’re a criminal.” I hurl my first real insult.
My cheek burns, telling me he’s taken a swing. Blindsided, I rock back in shock but keep my feet. My parents raising me tougher than to fall easily. Both hands on his chest to push him away.
“Get lost! If I ever see you here again I will call the police!” I shout. Staring him down, knowing I’m a flyweight in a heavyweight fight.
But I’m ready to go if he moves on me again.
He’s on the back foot, but still hurling insults. “You’ll see me, Candace, and Zara at the Finals. Then you’ll know the meaning of misery you self-centred little do-gooder!”
I hurl back profanities in response. But know better than to chase him as he gets into his car.
I don’t allow myself to rub my cheek until he’s out of sight. Building to a crescendo of throbbing. I let myself in. Unable to shake my dirtiness at stooping to his level. At being battered by someone I was willing to love with all my heart.
How did it go so wrong? At the beginning of the year he joked about marrying me. Now he’s not stopped at hitting me. Hates me, and everything I stand for. Now he’s working with Zara – Ms X! Wants my team to crash and burn. This combination sure to make the State Finals a living hell.
And now I’m not innocent in all of this. Have I ever been?
My shaking hands manage to ring Cat. Glad she’s home. Only managing a handful of words before she hangs up, it seems like years until she appears at my door minutes later. Steel pole in her hands.
She only stands down when I tell her. “He’s gone.”
My eyes barely have the energy to follow as she paces, cheek now stinging like fire. Her eyes on me as she says, “I’ll kill him. Let’s catch up to him.” Words full of menace. “Run him off the road.”
My sofa swallows me. Sinking. Both hands over my face because I’ve seen enough rage today. “No, Cat.”
I feel energy thundering out of her, angry as hell. “Call the police then. Slap him in a holding cell. This is not okay!”
How did it go so wrong? I shake my head. I lost him, now I’ve turned him against me.
Cat’s voice is in my ear, the nearness of her fury replaced by something colder now, frightening. “Let me call some people then. Big guys. They’ll sort it out…”
“Noooo!” A wail escapes before I cry into my hands for too many reasons to process at once. Painful tears sting, just thinking that he’s working with Zara now. Wants my girls to crash and burn.
My sobs stun Cat into silence, but she’s still close, trying to solve it all because she’s my best friend.
When she speaks again, her rage for me is gone, the coldness replaced with care. “Show me where he hit you.”
Her words make it all too real. My tear soaked hand revealing the wound. Her touch of my cheek making me wince.
“That’ll bruise, Maggie.” Cat’s voice gentle as she strokes my arm, just like Solo used to. “Hang on.”
And then I understand. I can’t hate him. He can threaten my girls, batter my body, but he’s still the first man I fell in love with.
I cry again, for my own weakness.
Something cool touches my cheek. Soothing.
“I’m glad you still keep frozen peas in your freezer.” Cat’s close again, though I didn’t even realise she’d left my side.
She slides in beside me, draws me to her energy. My tears falling on her shoulder. Her arms stroking gently, saying words I don’t hear because I miss him so much. Despite everything.
“It’s so unfair,” my voice cracks, ragged from too much heartbreak.
Cat studies me, her eyes meeting mine for a moment before she nods. Her sadness matching mine. “I get it. I… I know exactly what you’re feeling.”
I rub my tears away. Watch her shoulders drop, then her head. She’s not looked this lost since we left England.
Her sigh fills me with curiosity. “Totally get it.”
But she can’t possibly get it. Cat will be a star again once she recovers, can have anyone she wants. “What do you mean?”
Another sigh. “I never told you. Suppose I wanted it not to be real.”
The words, heavy with defeat, make me reach for her despite everything I’m feeling. “Tell me, Cat.”
“Mark’s the only man I’ve ever loved. The only one who loved me back,” she starts. “But after we broke up I was so lonely, and so far away.” Next comes a story of how she went looking, finding other athletes, gym junkies, or freaks high on adrenaline and god-knows-what.
“There were nine.” The pain all over her face. Struggling to find words. “If I was lucky they’d take me out a few times, but mostly they just left bruises and bad dreams. None of them filled the hole Mark left.” Cat folds both hands over her heart. “Some… Wouldn’t bother calling back.”
“Oh, Cat.” My hand on her shoulder, forgetting the bone-deep burning in my cheek.
“You always remember your first love, Maggie. Even if you two didn’t—” she stops dead, but my nods encourage her to finish the thought. “They break
a piece off, and never give it back.”
We cry together. No answers. But we have each other.
She goes for my phone, but I put my hand on her arm.
“I’m not going to let him get away with this,” her voice is firm, determined. “Let’s call the police.”
A stronger me replies. “No. He said he wants to hurt my girls. On the field, with Candace and Ms X. But we’ll show them.”
My promise hangs in the air for a minute. Before Cat breaks the mood. “Still think I’m the stubborn one?”
Even without Carol to adjudicate, all I can do is nod and laugh.
I spend the rest of my day alone. Harden my heart as much as possible against Solo and the threat he’s become. Roaming from room to room, unable to settle. Pulling boxes from closets just to give my hands something more to do than cover my face when the tears begin again.
Bracing myself for him in the grandstands with his Candace. His cheering if Goulburn play Wollongong in the finals. What if I tank Round 8? We’ve not qualified yet, can still avoid it all.
No way! The thought banished instantly. Digging into one more dusty carton.
The heavy black pole in my hands is actually a torch. A long barrel Maglite, well used, with paint scratched off in many places. I say to myself, “I can use this if he comes back. Shine it in his eyes, then bash his head in.”
With a wall around my heart, I turn my focus to winning our next match.
Our potential opponents, either East Hills or Hurlstone Park, are from Sydney. I find the details of their Round 7 match. Wonder how I can sneak in and watch.
By the time I go to bed, I’ve got a new resolve to fight what’s in front of me.
I barely settle into sleep when the sound of breaking glass startles me awake. I grab the first weapon I find, my hockey stick, and switch on every light. Check every window, heart thundering in my throat. Feeling very silly five minutes later.
Shaking my head at the sight of my reflection in the mirror. Barefoot and alone, with a hockey stick slung over my shoulder. My Maglite the only item out of place.
“Paranoid,” I scold myself, walking from room to room, balancing stick and torch, turning off all the lights.
I put the weapon I think of as Cat’s torch on the bedside table, continuing to scold myself to sleep in her take no prisoners voice.
In the lightness of dropping off, I hear my front door.
I jolt awake, instinctively reach for my hockey stick again. Not bothering with lights this time.
Heartbeat calm but nerves tingling. I walk silently forward. Suppressing a gasp when I see the front door open, and a dark figure sneaking inside.
My legs sprint forward before my brain reacts, screaming, swinging my stick high and hard. The deafening crack of wood on wood as my stick crashes into the door.
The figure flees into the night.
I slam the door and hit the light. Adrenaline pumping. Then dropping as I collapse, shaking. Throwing the shattered handle away in frustration. Missed.
It takes a minute to control my breathing before I call the police again.
“Nothing was stolen. He didn’t get the chance.”
Detective Garry is about five minutes behind the duty constable. I explain events as best I can. Keep to myself that the figure is too short to be Solo. Too many follow up questions if I bring him up.
My stick lay in two pieces if you don’t count the thousand splinters. Someone measuring a dent in the front door to estimate the burglar’s height.
“We’re going to treat this more seriously than an attempted break and enter. The Crime Scene Unit is on their way to check for fingerprints on the door and we are going to get whatever information we can from the footprints he left as he fled,” Detective Garry explains.
I nod; my house and garden a crime scene.
“Is there anywhere else you can stay?” Detective Garry asks.
I think of calling Cat, or Carol. No and No.
“Not really,” I answer.
“Okay. But I warn you, you might not get much sleep once they get here. I’m worried this will also bring local media attention. Is there anyone you can call?”
I think of my parents. Decide not to wake them at this hour, I shake my head no again.
“Take as long as you need, Detective. I’m going to get changed and put on some coffee,” I say, heading back to the bedroom.
Ten minutes later, in jeans and a t-shirt. I’m back on the couch with a coffee in hand. Notebook open to a new page titled Midfield without Brooke. The police crew are courteous, but baffled that I’m in their midst, working. But I won’t budge. Staring at the hockey field I’ve sketched. Planning what I can do without the key defensive midfielder Brooke has become.
The crisp, welcoming, white of the page is full of my scribble by the time the police bid me a good night and leave me in silence. With five plans made, I pick the best two to try at training.