The Missing Pieces of Us

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The Missing Pieces of Us Page 4

by Fleur McDonald


  ‘Hmm. It’s best not to jump to conclusions too quickly in these situations,’ Holly cautioned. ‘There could definitely be other reasons for the bruises. He might be sick, or there might be some upheaval at home. Something other than physical abuse.’

  Lauren nodded. ‘I know.’

  ‘Have you kept any records?’

  ‘Yeah. Just for the past week. Joy has noticed a change in his behaviour too, independently of me.’

  ‘How long has it been going on for?’

  ‘Hmm, look, I really can’t be sure. Definitely the past month, but the change was hard to spot until it was so—’ she made quotation marks with her fingers ‘—“in my face” that I couldn’t miss it.’ She frowned and put aside her lunch, her appetite gone. ‘I’m cross with myself that I’ve taken so long to figure it out. I’m trained to see the signs, for God’s sake.’ She let out a breath.

  ‘It sounds like the changes were very gradual. Don’t beat yourself up over that.’ Holly paused. ‘Do you know if anyone has moved in with the family or there’s been any other change in the family structure?’

  ‘I have no idea.’

  ‘Maybe that’s a question for Zoe when you talk to her. But look, in my experience, if there’s any type of abuse happening, she’s not going to open up to you immediately. If there’s nothing to worry about, it might make her wary of you—quite possibly, she won’t understand why you’re singling her out.’

  ‘I’ve never had to do this before,’ said Lauren. ‘I’ve come close a couple of times, but just as I’ve been going to make a report to Child Protection, information has come through explaining the kid’s behaviour. It’s an enormous responsibility. What if I get it wrong?’

  ‘You’re going to need to be very careful,’ Holly advised. ‘As you know, the safety of the child is more important than anything else. You’ve done all your Personal Development training, but nothing prepares you for the heartache of seeing a beautiful, innocent child hurt.’ She put her hand on Lauren’s arm.

  Holly had once told Lauren that her need to so fiercely protect every child who came under her care might stem from being given up as a baby.

  Now Holly said, ‘I’m only telling you this as a friend. As a professional, you know I’d be saying that you can’t get emotionally involved, but realistically it’s hard not to. Go ahead and talk to Zoe this afternoon, and depending on what she says, you might need to report to Hamilton.’ She gestured towards the principal’s office.

  Lauren nodded. ‘I’ll make sure my notes are all together. And I took photos of Dirk’s bruises while the kids were all holding up their paintings.’

  ‘That’s good. Don’t go in without evidence to back everything up. And, I know Joy will already understand this, but it’s imperative that the reporting is completely confidential. It wouldn’t hurt to mention that to her.’ Holly brushed her hair out of her eyes. ‘Promise me you’ll try not to get too personally involved. I know your history.’

  ‘Of course I won’t,’ Lauren said. ‘I’m a professional.’ She packed up the remains of her lunch, trying to bring her emotions under control. ‘Thanks again, Holly. I’ve got yard duty, so I’d better get out there. And let’s grab a drink soon?’

  ‘Certainly! It’s been too long.’

  Chapter 4

  Skye sat with her back against a tree trunk and thumbed through her mobile phone. When it dinged, she saw that Billy had Snapchatted her. She stared at the notification as a thrill ran through her body. Keeping her thumb on the screen, she looked at the picture he’d sent until it disappeared. Ten seconds wasn’t enough. She wanted to study it, commit every detail to memory.

  Billy had sent her pictures like that before, though nothing this graphic. They made her insides feel all fluttery and squishy. Her friends called them ‘dick pics’, but that sounded so revolting. It wasn’t revolting between her and Billy. It was . . . well, she wasn’t sure what it was, but it wasn’t disgusting.

  Although she would never tell anyone, Skye had been trying to work out if she wanted to sleep with him. Well, she wanted to—sex was a secret rite to womanhood, that’s what her gran’s Mills & Boon books said, anyway—but it made her nervous at the same time.

  Billy had already had sex. ‘But I really want to do it with you,’ he’d said when he called her yesterday. Skye had wanted to say something smart and sexy back. Her bestie, Adele, would have known what to say straight away, but Skye couldn’t think of anything. ‘I want to do it with you too,’ she’d blurted out. Then she’d wanted to shove her fingers down her throat and throw up, it sounded so stupid.

  To be honest, she still couldn’t believe Billy liked her. Skye had found that being a teacher’s kid made other students regard her warily, like she was going to run back and tell her mum whenever they hadn’t done their homework. Thankfully, she had a group of friends she’d grown up with, girls who didn’t care that her mother was a teacher, but making new friends was hard.

  So for Billy Gaston, a Year Twelve boy, to sidle up to her after the first basketball game of the season and tell her that she looked ‘pretty cute in those shorts’—well, she still had trouble believing it. She’d glanced over her shoulder to see if he was talking to someone else, her mouth going dry because there wasn’t anyone behind her. Then she’d checked to see where his group of mates were—maybe they’d bet him to come and talk to her. She couldn’t see them anywhere. In fact, she and Billy were alone in the long, dark corridor that led to the toilets.

  ‘Yeah, it’s you I’m talking to,’ he said with a lopsided grin. Then he moved a little closer and she took a step back, still not able to find any words or make her tongue work. She was close enough to smell his deodorant and see dark flecks in his blue eyes. He was dressed in the basketball uniform of singlet and loose shorts, his arm muscles were well defined, and he smiled down at her with Colgate toothpaste advert teeth. Adele had once said that he was almost too good looking. Not possible, Skye thought at that moment. He could never be too good looking.

  ‘I’m about to play,’ he said with a nod towards the courts. ‘Stay and watch?’

  ‘Um.’ She licked her lips. ‘Sure. I don’t have to go home yet.’

  ‘Can I have your mobile number?’

  ‘Mine? What for?’ The words rushed out before she could stop them. Oh. My. God. She wanted to die. Had she said that? Adele would have tossed her head and asked what was in it for her.

  Now, five weeks in, Billy rang every day. They never talked for long, and he always used a low, gravelly tone, not at all like his normal voice that she’d heard in the schoolyard. Once Skye had asked if he was practising his sexy voice on her, and he’d got all offended. She wasn’t sure why; it had been a reasonable question.

  They managed to see each other at least once a week—Skye had to lie to her parents every time. There’d been movies with Adele and studying with Jasmine. She knew she’d have to start getting some different excuses. Her parents would catch on soon enough.

  She and Billy hadn’t done much. He’d driven them to a deserted quarry where they’d sat under the trees, having fries and milkshakes from Macca’s. She liked asking him about his family and plans for the future but he hadn’t told her much; Billy preferred to ask the questions.

  They’d missed out seeing each other over the weekend because she’d been dragged to her grandparents’ place. He’d been teasing her ever since with pictures of his biceps and his six-pack—and then, today, a very erect dick. She wondered how much it would hurt when they finally did it. Everyone said it hurt.

  Everyone except Adele, who’d lost her virginity last weekend with a boy called Neil. What kind of a name is that? Skye thought. ‘I lost my virginity with a boy called Neil!’ She almost laughed out loud, thinking back to when Adele had arrived at school the day before. She couldn’t wait to tell the girls in their group every detail, bragging about how good it was and saying that it never hurt at all.

  ‘What did he do to you?’ Jasmine had wanted
to know.

  ‘Played with my boobs then . . . You know . . .’ Adele wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and pointed to ‘below’ while the others oohed and ahhed.

  Skye thought that she might be lying. Adele could be a good liar, but Skye had known her since their first day in kindy and had worked out that when Adele scratched her elbow, she was telling a great big, fat pork pie.

  When Adele had said it didn’t hurt, she’d scratched her elbow.

  Skye looked around the quadrangle, trying to catch sight of Billy.

  Their first kiss had been under the stairs in the school gym, after she’s watched that first basketball game. It was dark and musty but Billy was freshly showered and smelt of soap and deodorant.

  Not the most romantic place to get your first kiss, Skye thought as his warm lips were pressed on hers. Then she forgot to think and concentrated on the feelings shooting through her.

  ‘No one can know about us,’ he’d told her. ‘What would your mum say?’ He was standing with his arm on the wall above her shoulder and his face close to hers.

  ‘Who cares what Mum would say?’ she said, when they came up for air again. ‘She doesn’t run my life.’

  He tangled his fingers in her long red hair and pulled her into him. ‘I’m not in your mum’s good books—she seems to have a set against me for some reason. And me being seventeen would be a stopper for her too.’ He kissed her again as she wondered why her mother had it in for him.

  Skye was dragged out of this memory when her phone vibrated with another message. It was Billy: ‘Gonna send me one back?’

  Her hands began to shake. A picture of what? My boobs? She looked down at her chest, which was pretty flat. Nothing much to show off.

  Another photo landed on Snapchat. Holding her breath, Skye opened it.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Adele asked.

  Skye jumped and put her phone face-down. She felt her face flame hot and hoped that her friend hadn’t seen the photo. She wasn’t ready to share anything about Billy yet, and she had the feeling that now Adele wouldn’t want her to. Adele was enjoying her time in the spotlight for being the ‘first one’ in their group to sleep with a boy.

  ‘Nothing,’ Skye said. ‘A text from my cousin. You know.’ She shrugged, picking up her phone again and pretending to look at the screen.

  Adele flopped down on the grass, chewing her ever-present gum and casting a suspicious glance at Skye. ‘Jumpy today. You feeling guilty or something?’

  ‘As if. Just didn’t realise you were there. Gave me a fright.’ A change of subject was needed before Adele pressed her for more information. ‘Oh, hey, did you hear what Chris said in Mrs McIntosh’s English class today?’

  Adele paused. ‘No.’

  ‘So funny. Mrs Mac goes: “Chris, where’s your English book?” and he gets all, like, looking down at the desk and muttering and stuff. She leans forward and says, “Chris, I’m having trouble hearing you.” He looks up and says, “I dropped it in water last night. Tried to dry it out with Mum’s hairdryer, but she told me that wouldn’t work, so I tried ironing it and that didn’t work either.” Our whole class pissed ourselves laughing. Even Mrs Mac was doing her best not to laugh!’

  ‘Chris is so funny. Remember that time one of the teachers asked where his homework was?’

  ‘Yeah, yeah,’ said Skye, her eyes shining.

  ‘It’s still in my pen, Miss,’ she and Adele chorused, then fell about hysterically.

  ‘Last night my brother asked my dad if he was coming to “give him another mini-lecture”,’ Adele said with a snort. ‘I wish I was as smart with the comebacks as some people.’

  ‘You’re quicker than me,’ said Skye, thinking back to when Billy had asked for her phone number. ‘Hey, have you heard from Neil?’

  ‘Nah, didn’t think I would.’ Adele shrugged as she snapped her gum. Then she scratched her elbow.

  Skye wondered which bit she was lying about: the not-hearing-from-him or the not-thinking-she-would. Probably the second one. ‘When are you . . . ?’

  ‘Dunno. Who cares? Not me.’ Adele continued to scratch.

  Gotcha, thought Skye. You’re upset he hasn’t been in touch. Well, she could understand that. ‘He’s probably a dick anyway,’ she said sympathetically. ‘Not worth worrying about.’

  ‘He’s got one, for sure,’ Adele answered, her tone laced with innuendo. ‘You going to the mall after school?’

  Skye shook her head. ‘Nah, got stuff I need to do.’ She was going to wait until everyone had gone home, then meet Billy at the back of the school in his car. He’d suggested they go to the abandoned quarry. Her stomach twisted at the thought.

  ‘Damn,’ Adele said. ‘I was hoping you’d go with me. I’ve got a couple of shops I wanted to check out. Angelic Threads has a sale on, and I found some really cool t-shirts. There’s a white one that says, Sorry, not sorry. Thought I’d be able to wear it for when Mum tells me off for something stupid.’

  ‘I could do with one of them,’ Skye said. Actually, she would have loved to check out the sale at Angelic Threads, her favourite store. ‘But I can’t go with you tonight. How about tomorrow?’

  Adele frowned. ‘Whatever. I might be busy then.’

  Exhaling through her nose, Skye fought the urge to whack Adele. She was a good friend, but she was never happy if she didn’t get her own way.

  ‘So,’ said Adele, ‘did you hear about . . .’

  Skye let Adele talk without listening to her. She looked for Billy again. Instead of seeing him, she glimpsed her mum on yard duty. Skye automatically went to wave, but remembered in time to pull her hand back down. She didn’t need to advertise that she was a teacher’s daughter. It was so embarrassing when her mum came over and talked to her group. Plus, her mum liked talking to Adele and Jasmine more than to her anyway—she asked them more questions about what they were up to.

  Hoping her mum wouldn’t see her, Skye turned her back slightly. Lately her mum had decided to pick on her about everything, saying things like: ‘Skye, your room’s a pigsty. Go and clean it.’ ‘Skye, you haven’t wiped down the kitchen properly. Surely you know where the sponge is?’ ‘Skye, have you done your homework?’

  Stu couldn’t do a thing wrong. Talk about being the Golden Boy.

  ‘Stu’s doing so well at uni,’ Skye had overheard Lauren say to her PE teacher last week. ‘We’re very proud of the way he’s got himself a job and is studying so hard.’

  ‘But Skye can’t keep her room clean,’ Skye had muttered to her mum’s back, imitating her disappointed tone.

  There was no point in cleaning it, anyway, because she’d never get any recognition. Whenever she took the initiative to clean the kitchen or bathroom, her parents never even thanked her. ‘It’s all about living and working together,’ her mum would say. And the time Skye had mowed the lawn, her dad had a fit! ‘You’ve mowed it too low,’ he’d said. ‘It’s a hot day and now it’ll burn.’

  Well, fuck his lawn. Wasn’t that great anyway.

  Of course, if Stu had done it, they’d have been all over him with praise, thanking him for fitting it into his busy life. Bloody Golden Boy.

  Skye had a suspicion that her parents hadn’t ever wanted her. There was such a big age gap between her and Stu. Adele had pointed it out a couple of months ago, and it had all seemed to make sense. But her parents had completely denied it when she’d asked them: ‘Of course we wanted you. What gave you the idea we didn’t?’

  The age gap, she’d wanted to reply. And the way Stu can’t do anything wrong and I can’t do anything right. The way you both pick on me.

  Actually, that wasn’t fair. Her dad was okay, when he wanted to be. He’d talked her mum into letting her go to the movies on Saturday, so she could meet Billy. Not that her dad knew that: he thought she was meeting Adele.

  ‘So, what do you think?’ Adele looked at her expectantly.

  ‘Um . . .’

  ‘You are so out of it today.’ Adele shot her a dark
look. ‘You weren’t listening, were you? I found the coolest shorts at that surf shop in the mall. They’re having a sale too. See?’ Adele was holding her iPhone out with the photo app open.

  ‘I really like them,’ Skye said after she’d inspected the very short black shorts with small white pom-poms dangling from the hemline.

  ‘I thought you would. But these are the ones I thought would suit you.’ Adele slid the screen across to show shorts with a 3D red, pink and white print and a higher waistband. ‘They’ll match your hair for sure.’

  ‘Hey, they’re wicked,’ said Skye, enlarging the picture.

  ‘So, we going?’ Adele had a triumphant look on her face.

  ‘Where?’

  ‘To the mall, you idiot.’

  ‘Oh. Yeah. Tomorrow . . .’ Not that she’d have any money to buy the shorts because, again, her mum was being a bitch and not paying her the pocket money she’d been promised this week. All because she hadn’t cleaned the bathroom and vacuumed the lounge. Vacuuming was a waste of time—there was never any dirt in the house, and they didn’t have any pets, so what did it pick up?

  ‘I’d really like to go today,’ Adele said.

  ‘Told you, I can’t,’ said Skye. ‘I’ve got stuff on this afternoon.’

  ‘Like what?’

  The bell sounded and Skye leapt to her feet. Adele hated it if she didn’t know everything that was going on. ‘Just stuff for Mum. God, she’s being such a pain in the arse. I’m sure her real father was a dictator of some sort.’

  Chapter 5

  Angelic Threads had been humming all morning, but by four o’clock the customers had thinned out. Tamara was sitting in the back eating her very late lunch, waiting for the after-school rush. There was a sale on, and yesterday she’d had eight girls put items on hold until they could bring their mums in to check their choices.

  Adele Blyth was one of them, and she’d told Tamara that she’d be back this afternoon with her friend Skye. Tamara smiled—she loved it when teenage girls came in. She understood what they wanted because she kept an eye on the latest trends. And she tried to guide the girls, in a cool aunty sort of way, towards what looked good on them. She would reassure them that there were fashionable clothes to suit every figure.

 

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