by Sharon Haste
'No touching,' the vigilant warden bellows.
He withdraws his hand and rolls his eyes at her with a lopsided grin.
'Tobes and I are trying to come up with a plan,' he says. 'But nothing works without you and the necklace,' he whispers. 'When are you getting out of here?'
She shrugs. 'Thought Dad would come good by now, but I haven't even seen him.'
Jael nods. 'I think he's in poor shape. The media's been giving him a hammering, and he's gone into hibernation. This is hitting him pretty hard.'
Charli feels a stab of guilt for only thinking of herself. Of course her dad's in poor shape; for him, there's no hope. He doesn't know about the pendant. Maybe she should tell him and ease his suffering. But what if she gives him false hope, and then they can't revive them?
'So what are the other girls like? Have you made any friends?' he asks.
Charli ignores the question, deep in thought.
'Earth to Charli?'
'What?' She looks up, bewildered.
'You were a million miles away. Everything all right?'
She gives him a wry smile. 'Given the circumstances, I guess.'
'What are the other girls like?'
'They hate me. There are only a few who are friendly. I don't know why. I haven't done anything.'
'They're just jealous, on account of your beauty and charm,' he says, trying to cheer her up. She grins, knowing he's making an effort.
'Of course,' she says. 'Who wouldn't want to be me?'
'You are amazing, Charli,' he says. 'Think of all the good things you've done in your life. Now's not the time to throw in the towel. It'll work out. You'll see.'
She nods, knowing there's no room for self-pity. Besides, she doesn't want Jael to remember her as defeated and miserable. She forces a winning smile.
'How right you are,' she says, putting on an English accent. 'I am amazing. You're very lucky I granted you an audience today.'
'Indeed, Your Majesty,' he responds, taking up a high-cut English accent and raising his nose in the air. The visitor's room melts into oblivion as they banter back and forth, forgetting everything except each other. In no time, the dragon lady is demanding they say goodbye, giving them permission to embrace.
Jael stands and faces the warden. 'Excuse me,' he says politely.
'What is it?' barks the warden. 'Say your goodbyes.'
'I have something that I'd like Charli to wear. It's an ancient cross that was given to her by her mother.' Jael walks towards the warden, who glares at him.
Charli's heart is in her throat. She watches as Jael hands the pendant to the warden. The woman snatches it from his hand and inspects it for a few seconds before handing it back.
'She can have it, but if it goes missing she can't come bleating about someone stealing it. It's her responsibility now.'
Jael turns to Charli with a broad grin and closes the distance between them. He hands her the pendant and before she knows what's happening his arms are around her and his lips find hers for the briefest moment. The kiss sends a thrill through her whole body.
'Enough, no kissing,' the warden barks, moving swiftly towards them.
Jael steps back. 'See you soon,' he says with a wink and a cheeky grin.
Her heart hammers as the thickset woman escorts them through the door, forcing Charli into a holding room while she accompanies Jael to the entrance. She returns to steer Charli back to the recreation room, allowing her a toilet stop on the way. Her heart sings as she stares at the cross in her palm. She's itching to throw it around her neck and be gone. But she knows she has to bide her time.
'Tonight,' she whispers, pressing her lips to it. 'When everyone's asleep.'
She joins Saffron on the couch after tucking the pendant in her bra. Saffron notices her lighter mood and asks about her visitor.
'Just a boy I know,' she says.
'Boyfriend?' Saffron asks, curious.
'Nah,' she says. Is he my boyfriend? Her smile broadens of its own accord, answering her own question.
'Must be a good friend,' she says.' To come all this way for half an hour.'
'He is,' Charli says, unable to wipe the grin from her face.
'What's his name?'
'Jael,' she says, her smile broadening.
Saffron's smile fades and lips tighten.
'Are you okay?' Charli asks, noticing the change.
'Yeah, I just knew a Jael once,' she says, not elaborating.
'Okay,' Charli says, distracted by thoughts of his hands on her body and wishing they had more time. Her belly squeezes when she thinks of the pendant in her bra. Oh my God, I'm going to be free. But even as she thinks it, she knows there'll be consequences for her freedom.
The same warden snaps her name again. 'Richter, move out.'
Charli is on her feet. Her smile vanishes, and her heart skips. Do they know about the cross? She shrugs at Saffron before following the warden down the corridor.
'It seems you have a hearing today,' she barks. She shows Charli to the same holding room she'd just left, returning minutes later with a bag of clothes that contains a blue dress, lace bra, and black court shoes. They're hers, and she wonders how they got them. Hope surges, and she thinks about her father's promise. Does this means she'll be released into his care or something? The bag also contains a hairbrush and a hair tie. She changes her clothes and then sets the brush to her hair, stroking over and over, releasing the tangle of knots before braiding it and fixing it with the elastic tie. Feeling a little more like herself, she perches on the edge of her chair with her nerves jangling and one knee bobbing up and down. The warden returns to escort her through a series of locked gates to an outside courtyard. She lifts her eyes to the sky, taking in its brilliant blue and squinting against her first sunshine for days. Despite the humidity, the air is clean in her lungs, and she whispers a heartfelt thank you to nobody in particular.
The rumble of cars and the beep of a reversing truck tell her of life outside the wall. The warden urges her to hurry. There is a car waiting, the driver on the other side of a Perspex partition and a uniformed policewoman in the back seat. She's young with dark hair and pale skin. She smiles at Charli, introducing herself as Constable Ford. Once Charli's seatbelt is fastened, she taps the Perspex and the car glides forward.
The ride to Delany courthouse seems to take forever. She's trembling inside, finding it hard to focus on the woman's light conversation. Her mind wanders as she takes in the moving countryside and suburbia. When they are near the courthouse, they drive around the back to avoid the press, and Charli is ushered inside as fast as possible.
Nerves alter her perception, and she moves as if underwater. She has trouble focussing. She's led to a long table at the front of a large courtroom, which is already occupied. The male detectives, Mal, and another man sit on the right side of the table, and Edward Attenborough sits on the left, facing the front. She slides into the leather chair next to Edward. Her father sits behind her and whispers to her. She turns, giving him a watery smile, before leaning towards Edward. He tells her what's going on and then places a hand beneath her elbow as they rise to acknowledge the judge. The room is quiet, apart from the blood whooshing in her ears.
The judge commands attention, holding a regal disposition. The judge's blue eyes are alert, and his aging face is stern. She swallows over a dry throat and is pushed to her feet while the charge against her is being read. She's accused of murder in the first degree of her mother and brother. She pleads not guilty, and the judge calls Edward and the public prosecutor to come forward. They all converse in hushed tones before returning to their seats. The judge stands, and they all rise. Her legs are shaking so much that she has difficulty rising and feels Edward's hand on her elbow.
The judge addresses them all in a clear voice, enforcing the seriousness of the crime that has left two innocent people dead. He goes on to say that given her previously unblemished record and the assurances from her father to take responsibility for his da
ughter, he is granting her bail that is set at one million dollars.
'You are to remain in the custody of your father until your trial on the twentieth of February 2017. And you must check in with an officer of the court every week.'
Edward accepts the bail conditions and sags with relief. Charli starts to cry, and her father sweeps her into a fierce hug.
'You're coming home,' he whispers into her hair.
She nods, still in a state of shock, as she's escorted from the courtroom by the police and led to a small chamber to wait while her father and Edward sign release forms and secure her bond. As she sits with her head hanging and her arms wrapped around her torso, a warm hand touches her shoulder.
'Are you all right?' Sam asks.
Charli lifts her head, meeting the other woman's golden gaze. She's so relieved that she flings herself at Sam and hugs her tight.
'I'm guessing that's a yes?' Sam asks as Charli disengages herself and falls back to the chair.
'Just glad to be going home,' she says.
'Must be a relief to be out of the correctional centre,' she says.
'Yes, but for how long?' Charli asks, sighing.
Sam feels a change in her, sensing resignation. She hopes she's not giving up.
'Don't give up, Charli,' she says. 'I know it's tough, but dig deep and find your strength. It's worth giving it all you've got.'
Charli frowns, pondering the words. Does she believe I'm innocent?
Thomas and Edward return to claim her then, and Sam touches Charli's shoulder before she's led away, her father's arm planted around Charli's waist. She wonders if Thomas is the devoted man everyone thinks he is and hopes, for Charli's sake, they're right about him.
Chapter Twenty-five
Once home, the spicy aroma of Moroccan lamb makes Charli gravitate to the kitchen. Could it be? The blonde head and petite shape make her leap forward. Her heart drops a little when Elizabeth turns and fixes violet eyes upon her. The disappointment is fleeting as her aunt pulls her into a fierce hug, one hand soothing her with gentle circles on her back. Days of grief pour out in large, choking sobs. Elizabeth continues to hold her, rub her back, and croon in her ear, her own tears mixing with Charli's. Thomas looks on before opening his arms to embrace them both.
When they drift apart and wipe their tears, Charli gravitates to a stool at the breakfast bar and Elizabeth gives the pot a final stir before joining her. Their conversation is laced with emotion at first, but it soon eases into a familiar rhythm, and they find solace in shared memories until dinner is ready. Charli eats more than she has for days, appreciating the tasty food and company of people who care about her. Her dad remains sombre throughout the meal; he is a shadow of the man who used meal times as his platform for sharing colourful stories and discussing worldwide events. When the food is cleared and dishwasher stacked with dishes, she hugs him tightly, feeling his body shake with grief beneath her touch. How could I have thought he doesn't want me? She must have misheard. She knows he loves her.
She retires early, dragging herself upstairs at eight, and luxuriates in a private shower. She falls asleep with the light on and her arm wrapped around Ash's favourite toy lamb. It still smells of him, and her tears wet its woollen head as it rests beneath her chin. Her sleep is deep and dreamless.
The next morning, she wakes to the smell of pancakes, confused about where she is. Relief washes over her when she realises she's home. The gnaw of worry returns when she remembers her trial is just two short months away. It would be so easy to pull the covers over her head and ignore the world for the next two months, leaving her dad or Mr Attenborough to come up with a solution. But she's hit with the sudden realisation that she can't rely on others anymore. I have to fix this one myself. Mum gave me the pendant for a reason, and I've got to listen to what it's trying to tell me. She lies on her back and thinks over the things she's done so far. I've only focused on saving them, but what if it's not them I have to save, but someone else? Maybe she has to change herself in order to save them. She sits up and leans back on the wall with her knees up.
'Time to take a good look at yourself, Charli Richter.'
She takes her time to roll back to her earliest memories. Days when life was simple, revolving around her parents, friends, and school. The young Charli was like every other kid: she had friends, got reasonable grades, and was liked by her teachers. She wasn't mean, racist, a bully, or judgemental. Roll forward ten years and sixteen-year-old Charli is pretty much the same, isn't she?
She recalls her meeting with Tobi and cringes, knowing that she didn't want to talk to him or shake his hand because he wasn't from the right class. She was judging him before he even opened his mouth, but he was nice to her and generous, too. Worse still, she expected all of those things from him, without thinking that she should treat him well. How many people did she treat that way? She thinks of her mother and the nights she dragged her to the soup kitchen, or worse still, the mornings she dug her out of bed to cook breakfast for the homeless down by the river. Clare was amazing; she chatted with everyone, touched them all with a gentle hand, shared jokes, gave them extra food, and treated them all the same. She spent hours lugging food from the supermarket to the river bank and cooking endless sausages and eggs, all the while chatting with a smile and showing interest in the lives of those less fortunate. Charli remembers standing back, not wanting to touch anyone and wrinkling her nose up at the smell of unwashed clothes and bodies. She couldn't wait to get out of there and into a hot bath at home. She always made excuses when her mother wanted her to come and help. The heat rises in her face.
She remembers other times when she walked right past people begging in the street, ignoring them, even though her mother always encouraged her to give as often as she could. She never did unless her mum was there to see. She never thought twice about jumping a queue if her friends were lined up or being served first because of who she was. She joined her friends in laughing at other's expense to fit in with the crowd, and although she wasn't a bully, she stood by and did nothing to save those being harassed by others. She'd eaten in the best restaurants, travelled to the most exotic destinations, and enjoyed a rich and luxurious lifestyle without a second thought for those who had nothing. While none of the things she'd done in her life were illegal, the memories did not make her proud. She knows her cheeks would flame if her mother were there with her now, watching her behaviour. Her life of luxury had given her an expectation, beyond that of average people, to always be at an advantage and for things to go her way. But all that stopped when the car went into the lake. Was that the message the pendant wanted to give? That life wasn't about always getting your own way? Maybe she isn't supposed to fix the situation, but she is supposed to fix herself.
The thought gives rise to panic. What if she can't bring them back? What if she has to live the rest of her life without them? She flings the covers back and throws her feet to the floor, not wanting to accept her new train of thought. She drops to her knees, hands clasped together in front of her, and her elbows on her bed. Please God, I'll do anything to get them back, just name it. Please, please don't let me live the rest of my life without them. She stays there for a few minutes longer before rising to dress.
Downstairs, Thomas and Elizabeth are entertaining some well-meaning, sympathetic neighbours, who acknowledge her with warmth and understanding when she enters. Her aunt pulls her into a hug and brings her a plate and glass. Charli slides into a chair, trying to force the food down while the adults chat. Her mind is busy forming a new plan. She's so preoccupied that she isn't paying attention.
'Do you remember, Charli?'
She lifts her eyes, having no clue what they are talking about. 'Sorry?'
Her dad is recounting a skiing holiday a few years ago when Ash saw snow for the first time. She remembers it well. He was only three, and his blue eyes were wide with wonder when he lifted it with a gloved hand for the first time. Ella came with them, and they spent the day tobogganin
g, having snow fights, and making snow angels. The nights were spent drinking hot chocolate with marshmallows and watching movies until well into the night, the snow drifting outside the window with Ash asleep between them. He was so tiny then. The memory brings tears, and she apologises as they all pat her back and hand her tissues. She excuses herself, climbing the stairs to her room. She is keener than ever to try something new.
She locks the door and retrieves the cross from her desk drawer, weighing it in her palm and rubbing a thumb over its surface. Lowering herself to the edge of the bed, she finds herself still fixated on saving them more than anything else. She decides to try out what Tobi suggested and focus on going back to earlier in the day. She doesn't know how to control the time she lands in, but she thinks it will work if she visualises what she was seeing and hearing at the time she wants to go back. She closes her eyes and lets her mind wander through the day and her activities. She decides to focus on a time in the afternoon when all the staff had gone home and the house was empty, except for the three of them.
The house lay dormant, yet it seethed with expectation. Soft pan flute music drifted from an upstairs room. Charli imagined her mum soaking in a tub of bubbles with her eyes closed, enjoying the peace before the night ahead. Charli held Ash's hand and pressed a finger to her lips. Ash nodded and imitated her. She pointed to the front door, and they tiptoed down the hall and through the door. Once on the veranda, she realised she's holding her breath and let it go. Ash smiled and started his nonstop chatter about mum having a bath and getting ready for the party, his voice edged with excitement. Charli smiled at him, and then she looked up in time to see her father's black 370z disappear down the street. She frowned, checked her watch, and wondered what he was doing. She was sure her mother said he'd be back at five. Why'd he just drive down the street? Why didn't he turn into their house? Maybe he forgot something or had to go to work. He was always going into the office, always at the mercy of his phone. It touched a raw nerve as she thought about everything he'd missed because of his job.