What Matters Most

by Dianne Maguire

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Tim could not suppress his smile. Hell, he didn’t want to, either. Mia’s news had been the best he’d received for as long as he could remember. He drove along the coast towards home, his palms thumping the steering wheel to the upbeat rhythm of the Black Eyed Peas. Ellen filled his thoughts as he shouted the lyrics.

  ‘Where have you been, love?’ Annie said glancing up from the kitchen bench where she was folding and crinkling pastry onto a meat pie.

  ‘I was at Mia Sandhurst’s house.’

  She washed her hands under the tap. ‘Why?’ she said, frowning.

  ‘I wanted to talk to her.’

  ‘About Rachel you mean?’

  ‘No. About me.’ He smiled and grabbed his mother’s soft, full arms, squeezed lightly. ‘Mum, she told me I could not have inherited Dad’s weird sex genes. Isn’t that the most awesome news?’ He pulled her into a tight hug. Sensed her confusion. Pulled back and studied her unfathomable expression.

  ‘But … I had no idea, Tim. Has that really been worrying you? I mean … how long have you thought that?’ she queried, now wearing a puzzled frown.

  ‘Not long.’ Desperate to steer clear of further scrutiny in the face of his mother’s newfound dedication to listening to her children’s problems, he turned his back on her and rummaged through the fridge. ‘It’s not a biggie, Mum. Everything’s sweet,’ he said, crunching into an apple.

  But, judging by her puzzled expression, which persisted as she wordlessly scanned his face, Tim knew she was not intending to let the matter go willingly.

  ‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ he told her with a bluntness that even she could not ignore.

  ‘Very well, love,’ she said as though emerging from a tunnel into daylight. ‘Could you collect Ben for me, please?’

  His mother was not easy to read at the best of times, but despite her enforced silence, Tim knew something he had said had unsettled her.

  The school siren blasted at the exact moment Tim pulled up. He watched Mrs Pritchard in a particularly tight, checked skirt, run geisha-like from one side of the double glass doors to the other, finally managing to peg them open before hordes of kids came pouring through them and down the steps like fresh chaff from a bag. Ben was among them, edgily scanning the waiting cars, relief finally flooding when he spotted Tim.

  ‘Hi, buddy,’ Tim said. ‘You look a bit hassled.’

  ‘I couldn’t remember if you were coming, or Mrs Bollen,’ he said, climbing into the front seat. ‘Is Rachel home yet?’

  Tim pulled out into the traffic. ‘Not yet, mate. But she’s a lot better. Did you have fun at the Bollens’?’

  ‘Yeah. It was good. Mr Bollen’s cool. He never yells. I wish he was my dad. The whole family watches Home and Away every night,’ he said, his round face incredulous. ‘Mr Bollen doesn’t even care about the news.’

  ‘That’s awesome, Ben. You should ask Mum if you can watch Home and Away.’

  ‘I have, but she won’t let me because she said it’s very important for Dad to see the news because he works hard and he deserves to relax.’

  ‘Well, Dad isn’t home. So she may let you.’

  ‘Yay. Are you serious?’

  Tim grinned. ‘Yeah. I’m serious.’

  ‘Where’s he gone?’ Ben said, staring out the side window and examining clusters of kids, some running, but most sauntering, along the footpath.

  ‘He’s in the city. The police want to ask him some questions.’

  ‘What sort of questions?’

  ‘About Rachel.’

  Ben frowned at him. ‘What has Rachel done?’

  ‘She hasn’t done anything bad, mate. But they want to ask Dad if he’s been doing … um … rude things to her.’ Tim turned the ute sharply to the left and accelerated along the winding road towards home. Stole a glance at Ben’s serious profile.

  ‘He has,’ Ben said calmly. ‘I saw him. He touched her boobies … in the bathroom. That’s rude,’ he said turning to stare absentmindedly out the window. ‘I saw him do it lots of times.’

  Tim looked out at the golden blur of abundant roadside wattle trees as they sped past. He swallowed. Cleared his throat to fill the silence. ‘When did you see that, mate?’

  ‘A long time ago. When I was too little to play footy. He didn’t know that I could see him.’ He suddenly pointed towards Bollen’s bull standing like a locomotive in the paddock as they passed by. ‘Look, Tom’s bull is better.’ He dropped his finger slowly, seemingly deep in thought. ‘I hope the police don’t let Dad come home before Home and Away is finished,’ he said.

  Once Tim had fully comprehended what Ben had just told him, anguish, disbelief, and a sense of the absurd, assaulted him like a barrage of arrows. The old man would have known for sure Ben had seen him. But he would have been slimily astute enough to have confidence in Ben’s silence because a little kid would have no idea about the significance of what they had witnessed. A chill crept up Tim’s spine at realising the possibility that the old man had started grooming Ben to become part of his sickening pursuits. ‘Jeezus,’ he muttered, slowly shaking his head.

  ‘Um, Mrs Bollen said you shouldn’t say that. It’s cursing,’ Ben said.

  ‘Damned right it’s cursing, Ben,’ Tim said.

  Ben’s jaw dropped with incredulous disgust. ‘Um. So is that.’

  ‘Well, I’m an adult, Ben. I can curse all I want. And you don’t have to worry about seeing Home and Away. I know for sure Dad won’t be home before it finishes.’

  Ben punched the air, his smile stretching across his face. ‘Yes!’

  Ben ran into the kitchen and dropped his bag on the floor, his eyes fixed to the biscuit tin as he climbed up on a stool at the breakfast bar. Annie stepped around the edge of the bar and wrapped him in her arms, her smile abating only to plant kisses over his screwed-up face. ‘I’ve missed you, Ben. I’m so glad to see you.’

  ‘I’ve missed you too, Mum,’ he said in his excessively polite voice. ‘Can I please have a biscuit?’

  Tim watched Annie gently push the biscuit tin towards Ben and pour him a glass of milk, her contented smile never waning.

  ‘Mum? Can we please watch Home and Away tonight?’ he said biting into the biscuit and looking between Annie and Tim. ‘Tim said you would let me because Dad won’t be home.’

  ‘That’s right, Mum,’ Tim said, his tone particularly light as he cast her a warning glance. ‘I told Ben the police have taken Dad to the city because they want to ask him whether he did rude things to Rachel.’

  ‘And Tim told me I’ll be able to watch Home and Away,’ Ben said through a mouthful of biscuit, his foot regularly knocking against the leg of the stool.

  Tim glanced at Annie as she lifted the pie slide and made her way to the oven — not certain if she had been listening. ‘That’s true. I did say that,’ he said slightly louder. ‘And Ben told me he saw Dad touching Rachel’s boobies in the bathroom.’

  ‘Not once, more than once,’ Ben chimed. ‘I saw him in the bathroom and in her bedroom. And I think once in the shed, but I’m not sure. Can I have another biscuit, please?’

  Annie set the pie slide back on the bench, her hands trembling. ‘One more biscuit,’ she said to Ben, her face blanching to the same colour as the pastry on the meat pie. She cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders and finally managed to slide the pie safely into the oven before turning back to Ben who chomped hungrily at the biscuit. ‘What did you do when you saw Dad doing those things, Ben?’ she said with the tone of someone discussing the weather or a school event.

  ‘I ran away. Rachel looked really, really scared and that made me scared.’

  Annie walked around and hugged Ben. ‘It’s good you told me,’ she said above his head, her fears clear to Tim in her eyes. ‘And I’m sorry you felt scared.’ She sniffed and walked to the kitchen, her back facing them as she dragged a tissue from the box near the phone.

  ‘I hope the police tell him off.
Can I watch Home and Away?’ Ben said.

  ‘Take your bag to your room. We’ll have tea and then you can watch whatever you want,’ Annie said without turning to face them.

  Ben’s footsteps thundered along the passage as Tim put his arms around Annie, acutely aware she was soundlessly but deeply sobbing against his shoulder.

  She eventually wiped her eyes and blew her nose. ‘What has that man done to this family, Tim?’ she said.

  ‘I think we should ring Noah Tamblyn.’

  Annie blew her nose a second time. ‘There’s no need to ring him, love. He rang today to say he will be interviewing Rachel first thing in the morning. I offered to be there for her tomorrow, but she only wants you … and only after she has done her interview. I guess I should be pleased she can speak her mind,’ she said, tucking the tissue into her sleeve and picking up the peeler, turning back to the pile of carrots on the sideboard.

  ‘I’ll tell Laurie I can’t work tomorrow,’ Tim said reluctantly. ‘But I want to tell him what is going on, Mum. I don’t want to lie to him.’

  ‘Yes, love. It’s time,’ she said, her lips compressing as she energetically scraped the carrots. ‘Tomorrow I’m seeing the lawyer and the accountant, then the real estate agent. The whole town will know about it soon enough.’ Determination burned in her eyes when she turned to him. ‘Keep your head up, love. We have done nothing wrong.’ She bit her bottom lip and shook her head as she stared at the carrot in her hand before finally laying into it with the peeler.

  ‘Why are you seeing the land agent?’ Tim said.

  ‘I’m just considering my options, that’s all.’ She shot him a look that made it clear she considered the topic closed.

  Tim went to his room, sighed and dropped down onto his striped bedspread. Stretched out and dialled the number.

  ‘G’day, Laurie. It’s Tim.’

  ‘Yeah, mate. What’s up?’

  ‘I’m sorry, mate, but I can’t come in tomorrow. I know I’m letting you down and I hope it’ll be just this once, but … well, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but the old man’s been arrested.’

  A lengthy silence, then, ‘Arrested? Jeezus, Tim. What for?’

  ‘Um. It’s Rachel … he’s been … well, truth is, he’s been molesting her.’

  More silence. ‘I’m sorry, Tim. I don’t know what else to say, mate.’

  ‘You don’t need to say anything, Laurie. But Rachel wants me there after the police interview her.’

  ‘Yeah. Course, mate. Course. Take all the time you need. I’ll manage. Just make sure everything’s okay with your family. You hear me?’

  This can only get easier, Tim thought, tossing his phone down and placing his hands behind his head, suddenly craving sleep.

  Bright and early next day Tim left the farm for the drive to the city, making up his mind to visit Ellen on the fourth floor before he saw his sister.

  When Ellen looked up from some distance away, behind her computer, and flashed him a delightfully coy version of her smile, his heart literally skipped a beat. She leaned over and spoke to the nurse beside her before slipping from behind the nurses’ station and signalling Tim she would meet him downstairs near the ambulance bay.

  He used the stairs and she took the elevator so by the time he arrived, she had found a seat on a long teak bench under the sprawling canopy of an ash tree. His stomach churned as he made his way across the wide empty driveway of the ambulance bay and then the sweep of lawn, his heart thumping as he sat down beside her.

  ‘Everything’s still crazy at my house,’ he told her, staring out at a woman in a dressing gown and a man sitting on a bench a few metres ahead, obviously deep in sad discussion. ‘But it would be really cool to have that drink tonight … if you’re still up for it.’

  She smiled. ‘I am,’ she said, before her smile quickly disappeared. ‘Tim, I know what’s happening for your family. The police have talked to a couple of other nurses who were on duty when it happened. I’m truly sorry. That’s why you couldn’t make it last night, isn’t it?’

  He nodded, feeling both shame for his family and relief at not having to tell her in the actual words.

  ‘The police are interviewing Rachel this morning. That’s why I’m here — apart from seeing you,’ he said.

  Her smile transported him to a place he had never been before. Instead of the familiar sense of dread and futility in getting to know a cute chick, he was bursting with anticipation. He casually crossed one leg over the other.

  ‘I hear that physically, Rachel has recovered pretty well,’ Ellen said.

  ‘Yeah. She’s seeing a shrink tomorrow … um, Declan O’Leary. Then I think they’ll let her come home.’

  ‘That’s really good news, Tim. She’s lucky. If you hadn’t found her when you did, it could have been a very different outcome. But I guess you know that.’

  He nodded and took a deep breath, his current euphoria dissipating for a moment at the memory of Rachel lying limp and grey like an old abandoned rag doll under the pine trees. ‘Yeah. Well, let’s make it six for that drink, shall we?’ he said brightening at the thought of spending time with Ellen.

  She nodded. ‘Perfect.’

  ‘We may as well eat at the same time,’ he said. ‘What’s the pub across the road like?’

  It was around 9.30am when Tim wandered along the corridor towards Rachel’s room, the sound of his runners on the tiles bringing back dreaded memories of his mother’s wails as his father had been dragged from his sister’s room by the police. He stepped in and stared down at the freshly made but empty bed, realising with a stab of guilt that he had not given much thought to Rachel or how she should would cope with her interview until this moment.

  ‘She’s still on the fifth floor,’ a jovial, plump nurse said as she passed. ‘You’re her brother, aren’t you? You can wait in her room for her, if you like.’

  Tim nodded and sat in the chair at the end of the bed, the fresh white sheets folded back over a blue patterned cover, a pile of plump pillows at the head. Other than Rachel’s hairbrush on the bedside table there was no sign this had been home to her for the past three days. And even less evidence that it had been the site of a horrendous crime. He stared out through the window at the white puffs of cloud, the distant stretch of lawn and trees below, and refused to believe that the world was not a good place. He reminded himself that people like his father were in the minority. That most fathers were good and true to their children.

  ‘Hi, Tim,’ a voice whispered, bringing his thoughts back to the hospital room and the reality once again of why he was here. The whispered voice alongside belonged to Maggie Malloy. ‘Rachel is on her way up now. It was a tough interview, but she did well. Trouble is, she’s gone into herself a bit and needs time before she sees anyone.’

  Tim immediately rose from his seat. ‘Okay, I’ll go.’

  ‘Noah Tamblyn is coming up with her. I think he plans to interview you as well,’ she said with a gentle smile.

  ‘He’s already interviewed me.’

  ‘You’d best check with him. Here they come now,’ Maggie said briefly glancing out the door before turning Rachel’s bed down.

  An orderly and a nurse pushed Rachel’s gurney into the room. Her red-rimmed eyes were open, but lifelessly stared blankly up at him. Noah Tamblyn followed behind. ‘I’m glad you’re here, Tim. I need a formal statement from you. Are you up for it right now?’ Noah said, holding a hardcovered notebook.

  ‘But you’ve already interviewed me,’ Tim said.

  Noah shook his head. ‘I need a formal interview, mate. You and Mia are key witnesses. If we go to my station now we can knock it off by the time your sister is ready to see you. What do you say?’

  Tim knew he would never be ready or in the mood to relive the horror of that day. But why procrastinate? ‘Okay. Let’s do it,’ he said.

  ‘I don’t suppose you thought to bring her nightdress and the sheet you told me about?’ Noah said.

  ‘Yea
h. I did. It’s in my car,’ Tim said.

  ‘Good work. We’ll get it on the way out.’

  Tim climbed self-consciously into the front seat of the police car and closed the door. Noah backed out of the reserved park near the hospital’s eastern entrance and, within a few metres, had pulled up at a red light outside the exact pub that Tim knew he and Ellen would be eating at tonight — together. He surveyed the narrow, evenly spaced, cedar-framed windows, the chunky welcoming front door with the stained glass above, the century old stonework and knew it was the perfect venue. ‘By the way, Noah,’ Tim said as the car eventually moved off again and turned towards the city centre. ‘Ben told us last night that he has also seen the old man having a go at Rachel.’

  ‘What did he see?’

  ‘He said he saw Dad touching Rachel’s breasts … a few times. He said Rachel looked scared and that made him scared, so he ran away.’

  ‘How old is Ben?’ Noah said.

  ‘He’s seven.’

  ‘He’s too young to be a witness. But you might want to have a word with Maggie Malloy. She’ll probably suggest Ben has a chat with Declan O’Leary, just to make sure he isn’t confused or frightened by what he saw.’

  ‘Do you reckon that’s a strong possibility?’ Tim asked, instantly alarmed for his little brother — for his family.

  ‘It would only be as a precaution.’ A short silence followed before Noah went on. ‘I suppose you know that your dad’s father was a convicted paedophile.’

  The everyday sound of the ticking indicator as the car turned into the tall gates of the police compound seemed to be drastically at odds with the surreal sense suffocating Tim at that moment. The thought that his grandfather, then his father, were paedophiles and that his little brother may have been in Peter’s sights was beyond comprehension.

  ‘Sorry, mate,’ Noah said glancing at Tim as he pulled into a narrow space behind the police station. ‘I assumed you knew. Our records for sexual abuse weren’t great back in the 60s, but he was convicted in the Supreme Court and went to gaol for a few years. It’s on the public record.’

  ‘No, I didn’t know,’ Tim finally managed to rasp. ‘I thought that finding out my grandmother committed suicide was bad enough … But this … jeezus … talk about skeletons in the family cupboard. The Hoopers have them in spades.’