by Ber Carroll
‘I just want to know one thing.’
‘What?’
‘How would you like to compete for the surf lifesaving club?’
Jodi didn’t tell her mother what had happened at the beach. She hugged the secret to herself.
Sue said I’m a really strong swimmer for my age. She said I could be a champion one day.
Jodi savoured the idea of being a champion. She visualised herself running through hot sand, diving into waves, bowing her head for medals. It made her feel strong and brave, and happy for the first time since the night Bob had come into her room.
That night had started out like any other in the long summer. The fan whirred irritatingly as it circulated hot air. Crickets hummed loudly outside the window. Jodi tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable.
Finally, her body started to feel the floaty sensation of sleep. She was suspended, on the very precipice of consciousness, when she heard the distinctive creak of her bedroom door. Her eyes flew open.
‘Mum?’
The mattress sank with an extra weight. She smelled the stale odour of cigarettes and beer.
‘Bob?’
Her stepfather of two years had never come into her bedroom before. Yet Jodi wasn’t all that surprised that he was here now. At some level, despite her innocence, she’d known that the playful slaps on her backside, the accidental brushings against her developing breasts, and the tickling sessions that only he found funny, would end up like this.
A callused hand slid inside her nightie. Whilst her body froze, her mind went into overdrive. She pictured her mother’s trusting face transforming with the devastation. Then she pictured her gran, tight-lipped. Her uncles, hot-headed. This thing that Bob was doing impacted all of them, not just her.
His hand roughly squeezed her breast. It hurt.
‘Stop!’ she cried.
His hand stilled. She heard him breathe in short heavy pants.
‘It’s only because I love you, Jodi,’ he said.
‘I’m going to tell my mother,’ she started. ‘She’ll –’
He cut her off with a low menacing whisper. ‘I’ll kill the pair of you if you open your stupid mouth.’
Suddenly both of his hands were clasped around her neck, his thumbs pressing against the hollow at the base. For a few seconds Jodi couldn’t breathe.
‘I mean it,’ he hissed in her ear. ‘This is our secret.’
He stood up from the bed and his shadow moved along the wall. The door creaked on opening. He was gone, but not his threat; that would never go away.
Afterwards, Jodi couldn’t look Bob or her mother in the eye. Scared and confused, she played the scene over and over in her head. He’d said he loved her. But he’d also threatened to kill her. Did he mean any of it? Would he kill someone he loved? Or was he lying about either the loving or the killing?
Of course her mother could tell that something was wrong.
‘What is it, darl? Someone at school giving you a hard time?’
Jodi wished it were so simple. A school bully was much more straightforward than a stepfather who’d come into her bedroom and put his hand inside her nightie.
‘Nothing’s wrong, Mum,’ she snapped every time her mother asked. Then she’d flounce to her room, playing the role of the angry teenager when she was really just a frightened child.
Bob showered attention on her mother.
‘Mmm, you smell nice, Shirl,’ he’d say, hugging her from behind while she was cooking or washing up.
Or, ‘What’s a bloke gotta do to get a kiss around here?’ and nuzzle against her neck.
Shirley loved his flirting.
‘Bob, I’ve got work to do here,’ she’d protest, but she wouldn’t push him away.
Her happiness showed on her face. Bob wasn’t a handsome man, but Shirley was done with handsome. Good looks didn’t carry a marriage very far. She’d learned that from Tony, her first husband. Tony was the kind of man women fawned over, and Shirley had had to work hard to keep him from straying. She always had her hair done nicely and was never seen without her lipstick. She hung on to him for eight exhausting years before he left her for the most predictable of reasons: another woman.
Bob’s head wasn’t turned by other women and they didn’t pursue him. Shirley could bask in his devotion without looking over her shoulder. Her first marriage hadn’t been a success but she’d got it right the second time. She’d struck gold.
‘Go, Jodi! Go!’
Sue’s new recruit was well out in front. She sprinted along the sand as if she’d been training for months and had a respectable lead as she hit the water. Her strokes, though not technically perfect, were strong and confident. Her lead lengthened as she approached the buoy.
‘Go, Jodi! Go!’
The crowd was behind her. They knew they were watching a future champion.
It hadn’t been Sue’s decision to rescue Jodi that day. She’d seen her out with the surfers on other occasions and knew she was capable of making it in. However, Brett, her colleague, had got carried away at the opportunity to be a hero and Sue’d had no choice but to follow when he’d started to lug the boat trailer down to the water.
Jodi was out of the sea now, her skin glistening as she tore along the last leg of the race. The crowd, mums and dads of the other kids, cheered her on. Her own parents were noticeably absent.
In fact, Jodi tensed up whenever Sue suggested her parents might like to come along to watch.
‘They aren’t interested.’
‘They may become interested if they could see how good you are,’ Sue would point out gently.
‘You don’t know them.’
Sue began to get a strong feeling that something wasn’t right with Jodi’s home life. Her swimsuit revealed most of her young body and Sue would, without her knowing, check her over for bruises. She never found anything, though.
Jodi flew over the finish line, a smile beaming across her face. Sue gave her a high five.
‘Well done. You killed it.’
A few others from the club added their congratulations. Jodi’s smile widened even further.
Back at the club there was a sausage sizzle to celebrate. Jodi, freshly showered, walked into the room. Her golden hair, usually worn back in a ponytail, fell to her shoulders, shiny from its recent shampoo. Her brown almond-shaped eyes glowed. She looked astonishingly pretty. And terribly vulnerable.
‘Over here, Jodi,’ Sue called, letting her know in every little way she could that she was a friend.
*
The phone rang early the following morning. Two rings and it stopped. Jodi guessed her mum had picked it up.
She stretched her arms behind her head. Her body felt a bit achy after yesterday’s race. She still couldn’t believe she’d won. She smiled triumphantly and whispered, ‘I’m the Under 13s champion.’
Her euphoria was short-lived. Her bedroom door flung open.
‘Grandma rang to say your picture’s in the paper,’ said her mother.
Jodi flushed guiltily. Her secret was out. She hadn’t even noticed any cameras going off. She remained silent, not sure how to defend herself without knowing the full extent of what was in the newspaper.
Shirley crossed the room to sit on Jodi’s bed.
‘She said that you won some competition down on the beach. Why didn’t you tell us about it?’
She sounded hurt and Jodi felt bad. She sat up in the bed.
‘It was only a race.’
‘The article said there were a few hundred spectators.’
For a moment, Jodi was back in the race and could hear the shouts of encouragement from the crowd.
‘Why don’t you share things with me any more, Jodi? I would have loved to have seen you race – win or not. Why wouldn’t you give me that chance?’
Because Bob would come too. He’d see me in my swimsuit.
Jodi couldn’t say her reasons out loud. She had to keep the secret, for both their sakes.
Shirl
ey shook her head sadly. ‘I suppose that’s teenagers for you. I just didn’t expect this to happen so soon. You’re only twelve years old. Not officially a teenager till next year. How come you’ve grown up so quickly?’
She sighed resignedly and stood up.
‘I’ll go down to the shop and get a few copies of the paper. Maybe this will be the start of a scrapbook . . .’
The family had a party in Jodi’s honour. All the aunts, uncles and cousins came over. Grandma too. Jodi was embarrassed by all the attention.
Her mother put on a buffet lunch with roast chicken, sliced ham and a large quiche from the deli where she worked. The family sat with plates on their knees and bantered boisterously while they ate.
Jodi stayed aloof. On guard. She didn’t look Bob in the eye but she felt his stares. He slugged back ten bottles of beer and smoked twelve cigarettes throughout the course of the afternoon; Jodi counted from afar.
Grandma beckoned her over. She sat in the largest chair, her walking stick between her legs.
‘What kind of girl doesn’t tell her family that she’s won a big race?’ she asked, her lips pursed.
Jodi hunched her shoulders.
‘What’s wrong, girl? What’s the cause of this strange behaviour?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Are you getting on okay at school?’
Jodi nodded. In truth, her grades were slightly down but she was still close to top of the class.
‘Why didn’t you eat any lunch?’
‘I’m not hungry.’
Jodi was so apprehensive about Bob getting uncontrollably drunk that her stomach was churning.
Grandma fired another question. This time it was closer to the mark.
‘And you’re getting along okay with Bob?’
Jodi flinched inwardly. Although a token ‘yes’ would have thrown Grandma off the scent, she couldn’t bring herself to speak.
‘It’s hard, I know,’ her grandmother’s wrinkled hand squeezed hers, ‘seeing your mother with someone else, but you wouldn’t want her to be on her own, would you?’
Jodi, still unable to utter a word, shook her head. Grandma loosened her grip. Jodi was free to go, but she stayed. She desperately wanted to tell her grandmother the truth. She was old and wise and very brave. Maybe, just maybe, she could think of a solution that didn’t involve Bob killing them all.
‘Bob’s come –’ she began.
‘Jodi, come here for a photo,’ called Auntie Marlene. ‘Quick, while the baby’s smiling.’
Jodi took the interruption as a sign that she shouldn’t tell. She swallowed the truth back down. It left a bad taste in her mouth. But still she crossed the room and smiled into the camera when Auntie Marlene called, ‘Cheese!’
The party went on late into the evening. Auntie Marlene, who was breastfeeding and not allowed to drink anything more than a small glass of wine, had to do three runs in her station wagon to get everyone home.
Jodi slipped away to her bedroom after a mumbled goodnight to her mother and Bob, who were still drinking out on the deck. She brushed her teeth, ran a comb through her hair and put on clean pyjamas. She hadn’t worn a nightie since that night; it had been far too easy for Bob’s hand to slide inside the flimsy material.
She climbed into bed and said her prayers.
‘God our Father . . .’
She recited her bedtime prayer in a solemn whisper. Then it was time to pray for special intentions.
‘Please, God, please let Bob break up with Mum, so I never ever have to see him again, and please let her find someone else, someone really nice . . .’
Jodi leaned across and switched off the bedside lamp. She lay in the dark, straining her ears to listen for sounds of Bob and her mother coming in from the deck. Bob was very drunk. Earlier on, he’d accidentally knocked a photo frame from the bookshelf and the glass shattered on the tiles. Her mother had been affectionately cross as she swept up the debris.
‘Bob! You’ve had far too much. You’ll bring the house down around us if you’re not careful.’
She’d steered him back out to the deck and into a chair.
‘Sit,’ she’d ordered.
He’d pulled her onto his lap. ‘I’m the luckiest man alive to have this woman as my wife,’ he’d told the family, a big grin on his bulldog face.
Tears smarted in Jodi’s eyes and she turned on her side in the bed.
Why did Mum marry Bob? Why did Dad leave her? She’s much nicer than Grace.
Her father had married Grace no sooner than the ink was dry on his divorce papers and Jodi had a baby stepbrother now.
She slid one hand under her pillow and pressed it to her face to soak her tears. Her hand touched against something foreign beneath the pillow: paper. She sat up and turned the lamp back on.
It was a sheet from a lined copybook, like the ones she used for school. She unfolded it.
I’m so proud that you won the race. I love you, Golden Girl.
Bob.
Chapter 10
1984
Jodi looked at her reflection dispassionately. She’d been kissed for the first time. Did it show? Unlike most sixteen year olds, she rarely looked in the mirror.
Who are you? Who is Jodi Tyler?
She saw a round face framed by wavy blonde hair that was parted in the middle. Her skin was tanned and clear but for the shadows under her eyes. Her recently kissed lips looked the same as ever: too full at the bottom. Her school uniform, a plain white shirt and blue checked skirt, hung loosely on her body.
Yesterday, after the sausage sizzle at the surf club, Nicholas Green had told her she was ‘cute’. Nicholas was the Under 18s runner-up. He had tousled hair and piercing eyes. His lips had tasted like sea salt when he’d kissed her.
‘Jodi, you’re going to be late. What’s keeping you?’ her mum called from the kitchen.
Jodi was being deliberately slow. Bob hadn’t backed out his Holden Commodore yet. She’d developed some core survival techniques over the past four years of living under the same roof as her stepfather: on weekdays she didn’t leave her bedroom until he had left for work; after dinner, a meal her mother insisted they have as a family, Jodi would retire to her room to study; Saturdays and Sundays were spent training and competing at the beach. Avoiding Bob had some ancillary benefits: as a result of all the training and studying, Jodi was excelling in both sport and school.
She heard the front door slam, and a few seconds later the engine of the Commodore revved up. She stood by the window and peered through the small gap between the mesh curtain and the wall. Bob was looking over his shoulder as he reversed out of the drive. Once out on the road, he changed gear and drove off. She breathed a sigh of relief.
For breakfast, Jodi ate a large bowl of cereal. She kept a daily diet sheet to ensure she ate enough calories. Sportspeople needed to eat lots to keep up their energy levels and maintain their body weight. It had to be healthy food, though. No junk.
‘What’s on at school today?’ her mother asked as she wiped down the counter.
‘We’re getting the results of last week’s maths exam,’ Jodi replied with a grimace.
Her mother glanced over her shoulder with a smile. ‘I’m sure you have nothing to worry about.’
‘It was really tough this time,’ said Jodi. ‘I’m not sure I got it all right – question ten was a killer.’
Her mother laughed. ‘Darl, I wish I’d had half your brains when I was at school. There you are, aiming for full marks, when I would barely scratch a pass …’
This was the best part of the day. The kitchen was dated but homely. Jodi had her mum all to herself. They chatted and laughed together. Bob was blocked out, in another compartment, not to be worried about for another ten hours.
Shirley took a compact from her handbag and, using the mirror, applied a dash of lipstick. She liked to look her best when she was working at the deli. Lots of the customers commented on her lovely smile. Jodi thought her mum was pretty too. She cou
ldn’t comprehend why she’d settled for Bob.
‘Nearly ready to go?’
‘Yes.’ Jodi scraped back her chair.
I’ll never settle for less than I deserve when I get married, she thought, picking up her satchel from the tiled floor. Even if it is for the second time.
Miss Butler, the maths teacher, stood at the front of the class, a pile of exam papers hugged to her ample breast.
‘Quiet!’ she ordered her pupils, who were settling into their seats. ‘We have a lot to get through today. First, your results from last week …’
The class groaned and Jodi felt a twinge of worry.
‘Katrina, you passed – only just …’
Katrina Stuart, looking rather pleased that she hadn’t wasted any effort, sashayed up the aisle to collect her paper. Her skirt was rolled up at the waist so that the boys could admire her shapely thighs. Everybody knew, including Miss Butler, that she was much more interested in smoking cigarettes in the toilets than in mathematics.
‘Jodi, an outstanding result, well done.’
Jodi stood up to take the outstretched test paper. She glanced at the mark on the top right hand corner: one hundred per cent.
‘Samantha, you stumbled on question ten …’
Miss Butler finished distributing the papers and then, in brisk tones, began to explain methods of integration. She hadn’t quite finished by the time the bell rang for morning break. Much to the disgruntlement of her pupils, she continued on for a few extra minutes.
‘What have you got?’ Samantha asked Jodi when Miss Butler finally gave them permission to leave.
‘Cheese, crackers and an apple. You?’
‘Banana bread – Mum baked it last night. I had it for breakfast too!’
Samantha didn’t like sports and ate whatever she liked. Taller than Jodi, with red hair and freckles, she was starting to show the signs of her relaxed attitude to food. She and Jodi had been friends since Year Seven but their friendship was limited to school; they didn’t go to each other’s houses and didn’t hang out at weekends. Samantha didn’t know about Bob. Nobody did.
It was already oppressively hot in the school yard and most of the kids clustered under the trees to eat. Jodi’s heart missed a beat when she caught sight of Nicholas Green, his friends circled around him. His blond hair glinted under a stray ray of sun that broke through the canopy of trees. Colour flooded Jodi’s face as she recalled what it felt like to be kissed by him. Her lips suddenly salty, she gulped back some water from her drink bottle. The cold water regulated her blush and she risked another look his way. Her heart fell when she saw that he was talking to Katrina Stuart.