I glared at her accusingly. ‘You told him about Jimmy. You promised you wouldn’t –’
Edwina cut me off with an impatient frown. ‘I told him that Jimmy was out. Nothing else.’ She snapped the blinds shut over the French doors just as my mobile vibrated in my hand. ‘And try to get some sleep. We’ll go see how Herc is after breakfast.’
As soon as she left, I checked the message. Al was on his way. I gave him a few minutes, then snuck out the downstairs door to wait for him on the other side of the rosebushes.
I was about to give up on him when a voice startled me from the shadows.
‘Nice jarmies,’ he whispered. ‘Is there a secret way through here, or do I just push past these thorns?’
We sat in the dark on the bed, backs to the wall.
I managed to hold it together as I told Al about the baited dog food in the front yard, but then lost it when it came to the awful ride to the vet, with Herc twitching and frothing in my lap. He put his arm around me and pulled me close to his side.
‘He’s a tank, that Herc. Trust me, Kat, he’ll get through this. You’ll see.’
I nodded, glad for the warm circle of his arm, the steady thud of his heart against my cheek. I stared into the darkness willing the hot prickling behind my eyes to ease.
Al kept talking, sensing my need for him to fill the void. ‘I’ll put a sign up at the dog park in the morning,’ he promised. ‘Warn everyone to keep an eye on their dogs till they catch that mongrel –’
‘Don’t call him that,’ I said, pushing myself up to stare into his face. ‘Herc’s a mongrel. And he’s the best dog ever.’ I swallowed against the ache in my throat. ‘Whoever did this isn’t a mongrel. He’s a creep and a coward. A nasty, sneaking, gutless –’
‘Arsehat?’
My ragged laugh came out on the cusp of tears, followed by a hot rush of remorse. ‘I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch lately.’
‘Don’t call yourself that,’ he said, trying to mimic my indignant tone. ‘Sequoia’s a bitch and she’s the best dog ever –’
I grabbed my pillow and hit him hard in the face. He laughed and I went to thump him again, but he snatched the pillow and pushed me back onto the bed, crushing it between us. One hand circled my wrist, the other reached up to smooth the hair off my face. My breath caught as his thumb trailed along the scar at my jawline, sparking nerves that should have been severed long ago.
‘You’re not a bitch, Kat,’ he whispered. ‘You just sharpen your claws on the wrong people sometimes.’
His breath was warm against my skin, but his face was in shadow. I reached my hand up and tilted his chin to see his expression.
‘I like you anyway, Kat. I really do.’ Then he pressed his face into my cupped hand, closed his eyes and kissed my palm.
The shock of it lit a fuse up my arm that exploded into a liquid heat deep in my core. My other hand found his face and, without thinking, I pressed my lips against his.
I barely had time to register the soft give of his mouth, when the world went supernova and a dazzling brightness exploded against my closed lids.
Twenty-Seven
‘GET THE HELL OFF MY DAUGHTER!’
Jimmy’s roar was more shocking than the sudden brightness in the room.
Al reared back, leaving me blinking in the light and clutching the pillow to my chest. Before I could react, Jimmy stormed over to the bed and yanked Al up by the front of his shirt.
Al stammered out a few desperate words, then Edwina appeared between them, a pint-sized whirlwind, snapping at Jimmy to calm down, brushing down Al’s t-shirted chest as though Jimmy’s wild grab had soiled it somehow, giving me the opening that I needed.
I launched myself at Jimmy, thumping my fists into his chest. ‘Don’t you dare!’ I screamed. ‘Don’t you dare come in here and push people around. You are never here. Never.’ I punctuated each sentence with a wild punch, while useless tears ran down my face. ‘You let my dog eat poison. You don’t care that I’m on my own. You don’t care about anything except your stupid house and your stupid music!’
He didn’t even try to defend himself, and I kept hitting him until Al’s hands closed around my wrists to gently pull me away. ‘Mr Jones, I’m sorry, Kat’s upset, she –’
That set Jimmy off again, snapping him out of the shock that must’ve set in from the pummelling I’d given him. ‘I don’t need you to tell me when my daughter’s upset!’ A frown flitted across his face as he swung his gaze my way. ‘And what do you mean I let Herc eat poison? Where is he? What the hell is going on here?’
‘If you’d entered through the front door like a civilised human being rather than sneaking in through the back, I could have explained everything.’ This, from an exasperated Edwina, just redirected his fury.
‘Your downstairs door was open,’ he bellowed. ‘I saw it as soon as I got home. You haven’t left it open in years. I thought I was doing you a favour, catching that blasted prowler in the act. But instead I find –’ he gestured wildly at me and Al ‘– you planning to explain this, too?’
‘Yes, but not here,’ retorted Edwina. ‘Kat’s had enough trauma for one night. It’s late.’ She turned a jaundiced eye Al’s way. ‘And this young man needs to be getting home.’
‘It’s not what it looks like –’ pleaded Al.
‘Isn’t it?’ snapped Jimmy, moving towards him. ‘You’re in my daughter’s room in the middle of the night. She’s fourteen, for crying out loud –’
‘Enough!’ roared Edwina, pushing him back with two hands. ‘She’s fifteen in a couple of weeks, the same age you and Yvie were the first time her old man banned you from the house. Or have you forgotten?’
That shut him down. But the look he gave Al could have flensed the meat from his bones. Al looked hunted, his eyes drifting to the door, searching for an escape. Seeing that look sapped the last of the fight out of me. I slumped onto the bed, face in my hands.
It was all too much. Everything I cared about was under threat. First Herc, fighting for his life at the vet’s. Now Al, roughed up by my own father. ‘She’s right,’ I said, rubbing a shaky hand over my face. ‘Al, you should go.’
‘Good idea,’ Edwina said, gripping Al’s shoulders and steering him away from Jimmy and our ugly family meltdown.
‘Are you sure you’ll be all right, Kat?’ Al grabbed the doorframe, resisting her attempt to drag him through. I nodded, and he reluctantly let go. ‘I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?’
Edwina didn’t give me time to reply before hauling him away.
Jimmy swung back towards me. ‘I’m not putting up with this, Kat.’
‘With what, Jimmy? Some crazy prowler calling me up and tormenting me whenever you’re at work? Or someone actually caring if I’m all right?’
Jimmy paled. ‘What do you mean, the prowler’s been calling you? When? Why didn’t you tell me? Katty, what the hell has been going on?’
‘You mean while you’re not here?’ I glared at him through burning eyes. ‘Geez, Jimmy, everyone else knows, so maybe it’s time you did too. The prowler knows my name. And our home phone number, and now it looks like he poisoned my dog. See what happens while you’re out, Jimmy? Happy now?’
Edwina swooshed back into the room. ‘Righto, next time that boy knows to come through the front door.’ She skewered me with a telling look before transferring her attention to Jimmy. ‘How about you come with me and let Kat get some sleep?’
Jimmy opened his mouth, but she cut him off before he could get a word out. ‘She’s had an exhausting few hours. Her dog’s in intensive care. You’re upset. She’s upset. Better to talk tomorrow than to say something you might regret tonight.’
Bit late for that. I really didn’t have the strength to get into it with Jimmy. Not now and not about Al. And I didn’t trust myself to talk to him about Herc, either.
I knew it wasn’t fair, but part of me blamed Jimmy for what had happened. For letting Herc eat that poison. For leaving me on my own to deal with it.
Edwina was right. Better to let her handle it. For now.
Jimmy must have felt the same way. He gave her a curt nod and pointed a threatening finger in my direction as he walked out the door. ‘We’ll talk in the morning.’
I turned away and crawled into bed. The sheets were still warm where Al had been lying. I burrowed into them, thoughts ricocheting around inside my head, sparking pinball lights behind my closed lids. So much I had to do . . . talk to Bill . . . make sure Herc was going to be all right . . . somehow make it up to Al for Jimmy being such a freak. But, more than anything, I needed to flush that prowler out of my life.
I rolled onto my back, searching the fluorescent stars on the ceiling for a solution. It was all too hard, too much for one person. I couldn’t do it on my own. We couldn’t even afford Herc’s vet bill; Jimmy was struggling as it was to pay the mortgage. I’d have to get a job, but until then, as much as I hated to admit it, there was only one person I could turn to for help.
Edwina.
Al thought I was being unfair to her. She had been there when I needed her – first with the prowler and now, again, with Herc. She’d stood up to Jimmy for me. And she’d gotten Al safely out of there when things got ugly . . .
I pulled the sheet closer, and curled my body around the only shining moment in an otherwise awful day. Al’s kiss. It was my first since Billy Maxwell in primary school. But Al’s kiss was better. It was our first kiss and I hoped it wouldn’t be our last.
The floorboards creaked overhead, followed by a low murmur of voices. Then Jimmy’s cranked louder, the words almost audible, before Edwina’s cut in, shushing him down. I was too tired to care what they had to say. I shut my eyes, a jasmine-scented breeze wafting in through the security grille covering the open window.
The familiar smell seeped into my mind, calming me and unlocking memories of a simpler place and time. Transporting me back to when Edie wasn’t so confusing, and her home was a haven, a magical escape from all the trauma and sadness next door . . .
Wrapped in a warm jasmine embrace, I drifted off, the memory of Al’s lips still tingling at the centre of my palm.
The hallway is long like a runway.
I’m a jet plane. Zooming up and down.
My fist is full of jasmine. Mummy’s favourite. Such a big smell, she says. From such a tiny flower.
I’m going to get rid of that yucky stink in her bedroom. From the bleach Daddy uses to kill all the germs.
I close my eyes and breathe in the pretty smell. Then I run in, spinning, round and round.
I throw myself onto the bed. Daddy wakes up in his chair, his eyes scary.
‘No flowers, Katty,’ he growls. ‘You know that. Your mum has no resistance.’
I scramble away from him, towards Mummy, but her smile’s not working properly. She reaches out to me, but her hand is so heavy, she can’t hold it up. It shakes, and flops back onto the sheet. Her eyelids flutter, then close.
I stop breathing.
Her chest rises. And falls. Rises. And falls. And I can start breathing again.
Daddy pulls the flowers out of my hand. ‘It’s not your fault, Katty. She’s too fragile now.’
For flowers?
‘I’m sorry, sweetie.’ He goes to the window and tosses my flowers out. ‘We can’t take the risk anymore. Try to understand.’
I push myself off the bed. He doesn’t want me here. With my snotty nose and grubby hands. He’s scared.
‘Just go and play, Katty. Please, just run away.’
And I do. I run to Edie.
I reared up out of the dream, gasping, heart thumping, sheets twisted in sweaty loops around my ankles.
Jasmine-scented sunbeams streamed in through the window. In the bright light of day, there was no place to hide. The dream, this room, all the little-girl treasures had brought it all back – the truth I’d been denying for so long.
It was me. I was the one who had crossed the line. And I’d been lying to myself about it ever since.
Edie’s house had been my sanctuary. She hadn’t tried to steal me away. It was me, wishing I could live with Edie. Strong healthy Edie, with her beagle and her softball bat. The endless games in the park. Running, laughing, playing. Even after Marco’s death, the whole place was bustling with life while my home next door shrank into a long, rattling death.
It was me. I had danced after Edie, drawn by her light, while my mother’s flickered and faded behind me.
I was the traitor. Not her. Me.
I kicked back the covers and walked unsteadily to the bathroom.
I had blamed Edie for everything, but mine was the first betrayal. The first and the worst.
The jasmine had brought it back. The secret wish that I had clutched to my heart.
I had wanted to live with Edie. She hadn’t lured me away with the promise of a gingerbread cottage with lolly walls and sugar-frosted bookshelves. I had asked for these things.
I was the one who had wanted.
And she was the one who had rejected me.
Twenty-Eight
Edie had found me that day. Hiding in the crawl space underneath her house, muddy tracks streaking my cheeks.
She didn’t flinch when I wiped my nose on her shirt, when I spluttered tears onto her face, when I put my arms around her neck and rubbed my scary little girl germs into her hair and crushed my ant-ridden jasmine against her breast.
She didn’t flinch until I put my wet little lips against the silver stud in the rim of her ear and whispered my betrayal.
I wish you were my mum.
She went so still that I thought I had killed her. Then she unwound my arms from around her neck and held them tight against my sides.
Don’t say that.
Her lips had disappeared, pressed together so firmly they trembled.
Don’t ever say that again.
And I hadn’t.
It was my shameful secret.
The reason I had never forgiven her.
Three years later, I’d found her rocking a weeping and naked Jimmy in her arms, while my mother lay dying above them.
I’d finally found my reason to despise her.
Had I hated Edie more for her betrayal – or mine?
I splashed water on my face and searched the mirror for traces of the little girl I had been. She was in there somewhere, peering out from behind a fall of inked hair, hiding behind those once-implacable eyes that couldn’t forgive or forget. But now I saw a new uncertainty in them.
I could no longer blame Edie for everything . . . but was I ready to forgive her?
I grabbed a handtowel and wiped my dripping face. I had to focus, resist the pull of the past and concentrate on the needs of the present. Herc was the reason I was here, in Edie’s house, under her protection once again. Nowhere else was safe. Not anymore.
I looped the towel over the rail and lifted my eyes to the mirror, my gaze hardening with a sharp new resolve.
Know your enemy.
It was time for the little girl to grow up. Al had been right all along: Edwina wasn’t my enemy.
But I had to find out who was. And I had to make him pay for what he had done to my dog.
I pulled on last night’s clothes and strode upstairs with a new sense of purpose. Herc needed me. And I needed allies if I was to even the score with his attacker.
I weaved my way through the collection of armchairs and lounges, looking for Edie but finding Jimmy instead, hard at work in her galley kitchen. My resolve faltered at the thought of going another round from last night’s deferred scream-fest. Then I saw what he was making – my all-time favourite brunch: corn fritters with avocado salsa, topped with bacon an
d chilli plum sauce. Jimmy believed in saying it with food. It was safe to go in.
I stepped through the doorway – and froze. Al was perched at the far end of the kitchen bench, a half-eaten plate of fritters in front of him.
‘Hey Kat.’
‘Hey . . .’ I looked from Al to Jimmy and back again. ‘What’s going on?’
‘I came round to see if you were okay. Your dad said I could stay till you got up.’ Al shot him a nervous glance, which made me wonder how long he’d had to endure Jimmy on his own. ‘He gave me the first batch of fritters. They’re awesome.’
‘Not up to my usual standard,’ said Jimmy crisply. ‘But it seems your friend here isn’t too fussy.’
Al glanced down at the mangled remains on his plate. ‘A couple were a bit frittarded.’ He shrugged. ‘But, man, they still tasted great. You’ve got the gift, Mr Jones.’
Jimmy took the compliment as his due, but he didn’t do his usual ‘Call me Jimmy’ thing. After last night, Al would have to work hard to get into Jimmy’s good books.
Edwina finished frothing milk at her fancy coffee machine and poured a hot chocolate for Al. She would have kept him safe from Jimmy while I was asleep.
‘Good news, Kat,’ she said, smiling. ‘Danny rang.’
My pulse jumped. ‘How’s Herc?’
‘His temperature is almost back to normal and his vital signs are good. He’s just about out of the woods. We can go visit him as soon as you’ve had breakfast.’
My legs sagged with relief and I staggered over to take a stool next to Al. He nudged me gently with a shoulder and nodded at his plate. ‘Want some?’
I smiled weakly, too churned up to eat. ‘Thanks, but maybe later.’
‘Maybe now,’ said Jimmy firmly, putting the plate he’d just prepared in front of me.
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