by Sarah Bailey
She saunters back. ‘Right, sorry, you were getting to a point?’
Before I can speak her phone beeps and she pulls it out of her pocket, smiling slowly as she flicks her finger over the screen.
‘Excuse me?’
‘Just a sec,’ she says.
My teeth grind against each other as I look at her perfect face. This girl is something else. ‘Was Kai Bracks in love with Ms Ryan?’
Maggie snorts. ‘I dunno. He probably wanted to screw her; I don’t think it was love.’
‘What about Rodney? Did he love her?’
‘Same as above.’
‘Are you seeing Rodney? You two seemed close at the memorial.’
‘Seeing him? No. We went out last summer. Very briefly. He’s good-looking but actually pretty boring.’
‘So you’re not a couple?’
‘Noooo.’ Slowly. ‘That would be why I said we weren’t seeing each other.’
‘Are you friends? Playing the leads like that must be strange if you used to be together.’
She stretches her neck from side to side like a cat. Her eyes remain fixed on mine. ‘We’re friends, sure. And professionals. But that’s it. I like girls now anyway.’
‘You’re a lesbian?’
Her phone buzzes again and she glances down at the screen. She yawns sweetly. ‘Sure. You can call it that if you want. I prefer not to get specific. I’m so young, anything might happen.’
I fight the urge to grab her by the throat and push her into the jewellery rack.
‘You must be upset about what happened to Ms Ryan. Your reading the other day was very moving.’
She seems to think about this for a moment. ‘I was very sad to hear what had happened. Obviously. Murder is so … full on. It’s pretty crazy, really. And I did like her, even though she was a bit flaky. Nicholson asked me to say a few words at the thing, and Rodney really wanted to, so I agreed. I like the opportunity to get up in front of a large crowd. It was an interesting event to speak at.’
My mouth drops open and I quickly close it again. ‘It was hardly an “event”.’
She blinks at me. ‘Well, what would you call it?’
I shake my head, suddenly lost for words.
‘Anyway,’ she says. ‘I’ve told you all this already.’ Her lips purse and she shakes her head in a way that makes me feel old.
‘Sometimes people remember things that they forgot to tell us the first time round,’ I snap.
A soft smile plays on her lips. ‘I don’t remember anything new. Like I said, the play was great. So amazing. We were all on such a high. Ms Ryan too. She was so excited about how it went. I saw her afterwards holding bunches of flowers. She even had a champagne at the interval. She was smiling heaps and seemed really happy.’
I try to calm my breathing. ‘You said you didn’t speak to her after. Is that true?’
‘Uh-huh. Just saw her in the crowd. There were heaps of people around, like outside the school hall and in the main room, but all of us from the play just wanted to get to the party.’
‘At Jamie Klein’s?’
‘Yep. Jamie has a great party house and her parents were away so it was a big deal.’
‘Most of you went, right? From the play.’
Maggie waves two girls towards the change rooms and glances at her phone again. ‘Ah, yeah. Most of us. And some of the younger grades too. Even some kids that finished school last year. There’s always a couple who don’t come. Like the kids really into sport or whatever. Miles didn’t come; he’d had some fight with Sal or something. And Rodney wasn’t going to come because he had basketball the next day, but then it was cancelled so he ended up coming. But it was massive. Maybe a hundred kids.’
‘When did Rodney turn up?’ I press.
‘I don’t know. I don’t, like, keep track of him. I saw him around twelve-thirty maybe, but I’d been outside so he was probably there for ages before I saw him.’
‘What about Kai?’
‘Um …’ She twirls the ends of her hair. ‘I think I saw him when I got there. Eleven, maybe?’
I sigh inwardly. Timelines are a nightmare to map out at the best of times without having to rely on the memories of drunk teenagers.
‘Neither of them did anything to her, if that’s what you’re getting at.’
‘Really?’ I’m struggling to stay calm around the tilt of her chin. ‘And you would know, would you?’
‘Sure. They’re just not real men. Know what I mean? There’s just no way. They’re kids.’
I take in her waxed, tan, buxom stance, the jut of her hip, the world-weariness in her stare, and feel an unexpected tug of sadness.
‘Okay. Well, where were you when you found out about what had happened to Ms Ryan?’
She shrugs. ‘Mum told me. I stayed at Jamie’s, heaps of us did, and she called me around lunchtime and told me. I was so hungover it totally didn’t seem real. We were all really freaked out. Jamie’s house is only like maybe five hundred metres from the lake so that seemed weird too. We weren’t sure if the play would still happen that night or whatever. It was just really weird.’
She wipes her fingers under her eyes, pushing away some dark smudges. ‘We stayed there talking about it for ages.’
‘Who else stayed there?’
She looks at me wearily. ‘Heaps of us. I don’t know. Amy, Jess … Jamie, obviously.’
‘Kai?’
‘Yep. Kai, Jono, Joel. A few guys were in tents out the back so I’m not sure exactly.’
‘Rodney?’
‘Nah, I think he went home.’
She suddenly springs away from me and goes to the counter to put through a sale, beaming at the customer. Then she makes her way back to me.
‘Look, I have to start cleaning up. Are we—’
‘Yep. We’re done.’ I turn to go and then spin around again. ‘Actually, just one more thing. Was anyone upset about what happened to Ms Ryan? Like, more upset than you thought was normal?’
‘Mm.’ She taps her fingers against her jaw. ‘That’s kind of hard to say, isn’t it? Everyone is so different. Joel Perkins cried, which was a bit weird, but his grandma had died the day before so it was probably more about that. All the girls were upset, of course. And Rodney. When I saw him at school he was upset. He’s very emotional though. Like super sensitive. Probably because of his brother.’
She smiles at me prettily and I yank my eyes away from hers and talk to the small patch of skin in between them instead.
‘Aren’t you emotional, Maggie, being an actress? I thought you would be all about feelings.’
She leans towards me conspiratorially. ‘I am. I feel things really hard, but I mean, I have to be honest. This thing with Ms Ryan, it’s super sad, of course, but it’s also the most exciting thing that’s happened around here in, like, forever.’
Chapter Thirty-six
Saturday, 19 December, 8.45 pm
Fee looks like she’s the lead in a low-grade porn flick. Her breasts bob dangerously as if trying to escape her fluffy Mrs Claus costume, and I hold the drinks we brought in front of me to avoid an awkward embrace.
‘Scotty!’ Fee grabs Scott and mashes her chest against him instead. ‘Yay, you’re here!’ She gives me a half-hearted wave. ‘Hey, Gem.’
‘Hi, Fee. Merry Christmas.’ I hold out the drinks, giving us both something to focus on.
‘Oh great, thanks for bringing those. Now let me think … There’s an esky out the back, it’s probably best to put them in there. The fridge inside is chockers.’
I leave Scott talking to Fee and some other girl who is dressed as a Christmas pudding. I look down at my own costume: brown boots, red stockings and a forest green velvet dress that was my mother’s. I wove some ivy from the back fence into an old headband. Put on red lipstick. I look like a Christmas lunch table setting. Or maybe an enthusiastic kindergarten teacher.
I pull the drinks out from the plastic bag and settle them in the esky. The ice is already
pooling, more slush than hard squares. I scoop some pieces into a large plastic cup and pour white wine over the top. I’ve been thinking about drinking wine all day.
After speaking to Maggie, I raced back to check-in before rushing home to get Ben ready to stay at Dad’s. The uniforms have made their way through about thirty follow-up interviews with the kids who went to Jamie’s party. Rodney and Kai were definitely both seen there, and a few people claim to remember Kai going to get some more booze but don’t remember what time he left or when he came back. Like Maggie, a few of the girls can remember seeing Kai at around 11.30 pm. One guy swears he saw Rodney when he got there at eleven. Several others say they spoke to him just before midnight but half of the kids were wasted by the time they turned up and the stories changed with their attempts to remember. It doesn’t leave us with much to be sure about.
Another headache is rearing and a small but mighty blister is making itself known on my foot. I drink more wine and survey the yard. There are maybe twenty people here already. A modest, albeit stubborn, fire burns in one of those raised barbecue bowls to the left of the house, but most people are standing around a large kiddie pool, which is filled with more drinks and two goofy-looking blow-up Santas. The talk and laughter sounds like a hive of bees. A girl, I think her name is Jennifer, makes a shocked face and slaps Greg Samuels on the arm. ‘No, no! Greg, that’s so not true!’
I know most of these people, but only vaguely; they are mainly Scott’s friends, and when I try to piece their lives together the details blur into a word cloud of facts. Married, single, sleazy, smart, rich. Renovating, travelling, baking, studying. The energy required to make small talk with them feels impossible to summon.
‘Hey, Gemma.’ Doug’s face bobs into my view as he grabs a beer, cracking it open and taking a swig in one swift movement. He’s wearing a soft furry reindeer headband and a t-shirt with Santa on a surfboard being pulled along by Rudolph.
I take another sip of my wine.
‘Hi, Doug,’ I say.
‘How are you?’
‘Pretty good. How are you? How’s Tyson? He was in prep this year, right?’
‘Yep. He finishes this week, a year already. And little Phoebe is already two, you know. I guess what they say is true: they grow up crazy fast. I mean, you know what I’m talking about. With Ben.’
I nod and try to think of something else to say. ‘How’s the house coming along?’
‘It’s really great. Heaps more space and we put in a spa, which is cool. Trying to save some money now, so I’m gonna do the rest of the painting myself. That’s the big summer task. I keep saying to Jules, “That’s what I’ll be doing this summer,” and I don’t mind because I’ll be able to listen to the cricket at the same time.’
‘Sounds great.’
I see Julia, Doug’s wife, walking over to us. She grabs his hand and ducks her head into his chest. ‘Hi, Gemma.’
‘Hey.’
My cup is empty so I pour some more wine and gesture to Jules. ‘Want some?’
She shakes her head shyly and rubs at her stomach. ‘Can’t.’
‘You’re pregnant?’
‘Uh-huh.’ Doug kisses the top of her head.
‘Oh, wow, that’s great. Congratulations.’
‘Thanks.’ They stand there beaming at me as if they’ve just been awarded a Nobel Peace Prize.
‘Great,’ I say again dumbly, tipping back more wine.
‘I would have thought you’d be pregnant again by now, Gemma.’
‘Jules, c’mon,’ Doug whispers.
She ignores him. ‘Well, I did. Ben is what … two, three?’
‘Two and a half.’
‘See? That’s around the best age. Nice for them to have a sibling to look after.’
‘Maybe.’
Julia rubs at her stomach again. ‘I guess you are pretty busy with work. Must be so hard doing that and then going home to a family. I can’t imagine.’ The way she says it makes it clear that she wouldn’t want to imagine.
‘This murdered teacher thing seems pretty weird.’ Doug leans forward, his breath in my face. ‘I heard she was mixed up in this online devil worship group, which makes sense—she had those crazy eyes. Beautiful, but crazy all the same. Is that true?’
For a second I think he is asking me whether her eyes are beautiful and I can’t think of what to say. They both stare at me. Julia’s head is tilted to the side, a patient look on her face, and I guess that must be how she looks at her children. Are you perhaps a little bit tired, darling? I think it might be time for a little nap. Now tell me about this online devil worship.
‘Oh, you mean the devil stuff? No, that’s not something that we are investigating. Honestly, it hasn’t come up.’
‘Weird. That’s what I heard yesterday. But she must have been mixed up with something suss. I mean, that kind of thing doesn’t happen to just anyone.’ Doug’s face is troubled, as if he’s trying to work out how something so unfortunate might happen without you directly orchestrating it. The wine laps around the edges of my thoughts. Julia and Doug look like they are peering at me down the wrong end of a telescope.
‘I can’t really talk about it, but we’re looking into a few scenarios at the moment. There are lots of things that don’t add up just yet.’
I know they want to ask more questions, so I busy myself with pouring wine, hoping that one of us will think of something else to talk about.
‘Hey, guys.’ Scott appears next to me. He is dressed as a snowflake, all in white. He flexes his stocky legs as he leans down to scratch his foot. ‘Fucking mosquitos. I’m getting smashed already.’
I smile at him and I notice his eyes drift from my glass to the half-empty bottle of wine at my feet.
‘Jules and Doug are having another baby.’
He smiles at them and then says to me, ‘Yes, I know. I thought I told you that.’
My cheeks flare in a flush. ‘No, definitely not. You didn’t.’
Julia looks concerned at the possibility that her baby didn’t make the nightly news in our house. Doug waves the topic away. ‘No stress. It’s the third one—it’s going to start getting hard to keep track!’
Julia gives him a look. ‘I’m going to get some water.’
‘Hey, people.’ Murray Evans joins our semi-circle with Paul James and Fox in tow. Fox looks at me so intensely that I find myself looking away and tugging at the hem of my dress. I see Fox rarely these days, but when I do it’s always as if my body shuts down, so closely is he linked in my head to the time in my life when everything went wrong.
‘Hey, guys! Merry Christmas.’ Scott slaps each of them on the back in turn and they exchange energetic handshakes.
Fox looks drunk already, but then I rarely see him sober. His eyes are wide set, giving him a slightly alien resting face. His upper body sways in a circle as his feet stay rooted to the spot. Murray slaps him on the back, grinning. Murray went to school with Scott. They share a birthday, and Murray’s little boy Simon is the same age as Ben. I know Murray cares a great deal about Scott. He’s always been wary of me.
Paul James gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. ‘You look great, Gemma. Merry Christmas.’
‘Thanks, Paul. You too.’ I feel a little light-headed.
‘Toilet,’ I say to Scott. He’s showing Murray and Doug recent pictures of Ben on his phone and barely looks up.
I close the bathroom door and lock it. Then I lean against it and look up at the ceiling, where an old fan is creaking in slow circles. I’m drunk already. I go to the toilet and feel a little better. I don’t think I’ve eaten since the cake at Carol’s this morning. My stomach is creased from the waistband of my stockings. I take them off and shove my feet into my boots without socks. I need to shave my legs but I figure no one will notice in the dark. I wipe the skin under my eyes, removing a fine black film that has formed there from the heavy eyeliner. I blot at my face with some toilet paper and check my teeth, pushing my hair behind my ears. The ivy cro
wn I made looks limp and silly in the harsh bathroom light. I wash my hands and notice that the handwash fragrance doesn’t match the description on the expensive-looking bottle and I feel a little better.
I walk back across the lawn towards Scott.
Fee sidles up to me, cradling a bottle of wine.
‘So how’s it all going, Gemma? With work?’ She speaks carefully, as if she’s holding up each word and considering it before allowing it to be spoken out loud. A sharp line of fake tan cuts across her left breast where her top has edged down. ‘Things like this dead teacher must be so intense. I can’t even imagine.’ She leans closer and I see the pores on her nose clogged with foundation. ‘Do they let you see dead bodies?’ She shudders. ‘It must be horrible.’
I sip at the wine she pours for me. My velvet dress is suffocating and I pull at the high neck. Fee’s eyes are wide, glinting with the possibility of gory details.
‘It’s my case. I do whatever I like.’ My hip unexpectedly gives way and I stumble on the spot. ‘Whoops.’
Fee bleats out a laugh. ‘Oh. Well, that’s nice.’
‘I go to the gym with the guy who found her in the lake,’ Fox speaks quietly, appearing behind my shoulder. ‘He’s pretty messed up.’ I remember the same voice a lifetime ago, so gentle but always so serious.
‘Hey, Fox,’ I say. He’s so close I can feel his breath on my ear.
Fee yanks up her top and raises her eyebrows at us. ‘I’m just going to change the music.’
Scott waves at me from across the yard. He looks rounder in this light: like a bunch of circles stacked on top of each other, his head bobbing on the top. I didn’t realise he’d put on so much weight. We’ve all put on weight, I think as I look around. My thighs are sweaty and rub against each other. My underwear is damp and my skin crawls. I wonder if Fox can see the dark rings under my arms.
‘Mm.’
Fox laughs. ‘What?’
I breathe out through my lips, making them vibrate. ‘I don’t know.’
‘What’s up?’
‘I’m drunk,’ I say.
Fox lights a cigarette. ‘I can see that.’
‘It was an accident.’