Sanctuary

by Kate de Goldi

  ‘I think he must have met my mother,’ said Penny, afterwards. ‘Remind me to abandon the middle class, will you?’

  Stella was in stunning form, scaling the heights and plumbing the depths of emotion — her performing strength, Toni always said. Penny watched and listened with a rapt face, riding the wave of chaotic feelings the songs created. I felt oddly detached.

  She finished with ‘Not While I’m Around’, just her and Graeme, a tender, child-like delivery. I gritted my teeth against the words and melody, not letting them sink into my head. This was the song Stella sang to Tiggie at night when she was scared of nightmares. I was furious with her for singing it now. Nothing’s gonna harm you, not while I’m around. I thought about Jem, Cleo, Peppy, the Salters, the girls at school, anything except Tiggie and the promise contained in the words. No one’s gonna hurt you, no one’s gonna dare, others can desert you, not to worry, whistle, I’ll be there. I thought that if I let those words impinge I might feel fatally wounded.

  Her voice cracked at the end so that she almost swallowed the last line; she breathed it instead, achingly soft. I heard Nan give a shuddering sob and I looked across to Toni, clapping, tears rolling down her cheeks. William’s head was bent, but he lifted a hand to wipe at his eyes. Penny looked at me.

  ‘An emotional bunch,’ I said, rolling my eyes. ‘I’m the only heartless one, don’t like my mascara to run.’

  ‘Well, that was one out of the book, wasn’t it?’ said Nan.

  ‘It was beautiful,’ said Penny, looking suspiciously moist around the eyes herself.

  ‘My God,’ I said, looking at them all, irritated, ‘what a bunch of cry-babies!’

  ‘Darling—’ Nan began, but she was cut off by a loud voice behind her.

  ‘Jesus is Lord! It’s the Lady of Shalott! Couldn’t miss the flaming tresses. But hang about — where’s Gentleman Jem? Let me guess. Bedding down with the baboon? Buggering the budgies!’

  It was Simeon Hook, grinning wickedly, tipping back on his heels, surveying our table. I was too glad of the interruption to care about the impression he might be making.

  ‘Hi!’ I said extravagantly, before Simeon could say anything more about Jeremiah.

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ said Simeon, with great charm, when he heard the word grandmother. ‘Wait a minute, Coles. Are you related to the sexy singer?’ Penny’s mouth dropped open.

  ‘Sexy Stella is my daughter,’ said Nan, ominously dignified, ‘and Catriona’s mother. Also Toni Coles’s sister.’ She gestured over the table.

  ‘You don’t look a bit like her, Red,’ said Simeon, staring at me. His eyes were slightly bloodshot.

  ‘Well, I guess that takes me out of the sexy stakes,’ I said, hardly believing myself.

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that,’ said Simeon Hook, ‘not at all.’

  ‘Jesus,’ said Penny, under her breath.

  ‘What about a dance?’ I said to Simeon. ‘You any good?’ I took his hands, started a mock waltz. ‘Come on, I’ll give you some lessons before they start. Come on, Pen, come and help.’

  ‘See you guys soon,’ said Penny to the table, well-bred North-West girl that she was. She turned to me. ‘God, Cat,’ she said, ‘you were a bit obvious. They’ll wonder what’s going on.’

  ‘Yeah, what’s going on, Red?’ said Simeon, not letting me drop his hand.

  ‘Don’t call me Red,’ I said, leading them out the doors to the dim landing where two massive bouncers leaned up against the wall, arms folded, chatting.

  ‘I get it,’ said Simeon, softly. ‘You girls want a blow.’

  ‘Get off,’ said Penny, ‘we don’t smoke dope.’

  ‘My family don’t know about me and Jem,’ I said. ‘So you can’t say anything.’

  ‘Don’t know about Jeremiah the Gorgeous!’ said Simeon, astonished. ‘He’s every mother’s dream. Not to mention aunts and grandmothers. But why did they all look like they were at a funeral?’

  ‘Sad song, sentimental family,’ I said briefly. ‘But your timing was excellent. How come you’re here? It’s hardly the Grateful Dead.’

  ‘I have wide-ranging tastes,’ said Simeon, tipping towards me. ‘Hymns to heavy metal.’ His breath was sweet and alcoholic. ‘I’ve got a mate,’ he said. ‘Penny Lope might like to dance, too.’

  ‘I wasn’t serious about the dancing,’ I said.

  ‘I am though,’ said Simeon, taking my hand.

  We danced the rest of the night away. Simeon and his friend were sharp on their feet. Penny and I raised eyebrows at each other after the first dance.

  ‘We learnt at school,’ said Simeon.

  ‘At Mairehau?’ I said.

  ‘No, no, Red. Mairehau is my brother’s alma mater. I graced the halls of Christ’s College. Dormitories, actually. Boarding scholarship. Yes, Red, I’m a smart boy. Just unregenerate.’

  ‘How come Jem didn’t go to College?’ I asked.

  ‘He was judged more mature than myself,’ said Simeon with heavy irony. ‘Capable of disciplining himself, not being distracted by fleshy girls.’ I blushed. ‘Not that he was a monk, of course. Just discretionary. And discreet.’

  The strobe lights were working now, the room dipping and sliding. I had had just enough wine to feel slightly dizzy. We danced hard, sweating and panting. The beginning of the night seemed years away. I knew that Nan and Toni were watching me and wondering about the arrogant boy who swung me around and held my gaze for just a bit too long when we were at arm’s length. I knew that Stella was noticing too, even while she sang, but I didn’t care. He was just a friend of a friend, I could truthfully tell her.

  As I danced I thought of Jem at home in the Salters’ living room, reading probably, drinking some of the Old Man’s Glenfiddich maybe, keeping Peppy out of the biscuit cupboard, waiting for me. I thought of him seeing my cabaret clothes, undressing me in the Salters’ spare room.

  I thought of Paul Hewitt and his pleasant voice and wondered whether I regretted being rude to him.

  I thought of Stella singing and that awful moment when I couldn’t recognise her, when my chest tightened and my breath seemed to come through a pinhole.

  I thought of Stella’s voice cracking when she sang ‘Not While I’m Around’, of the quiet tears at our table, my hard irritated face.

  I thought of Nan looking at me, her brow creasing, wondering where her girl was, her old Cat, careful, sensitive, lovable Cat.

  But when the band started the last number and Stella crooned softly into the microphone I stopped thinking. I closed my eyes and moved closer to Simeon, leaning on him, smelling his smell, feeling his body shape, so different from Jem’s.

  Speak low, Stella sang,

  Darling, speak low:

  Love is a spark

  Lost in the dark

  Too soon?

  And when Simeon Hook bent his head slightly and kissed me, I didn’t think then either. I just opened my mouth and kissed him back, lost in the music, sleepy in the dark hot crush of dancers, feeling only his salty hard lips, only hearing the words of the song.

  I wait

  Darling, I wait,

  Will you speak low to me,

  Speak love to me,

  And soon?

  Chapter Seven

  ‘So …’ said Miriam Wilkie. ‘How do you see all that?’

  ‘All what?’

  ‘Come on, Cat. Don’t stall now.’

  ‘It was awful,’ I said, after a while. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I thought perhaps it might have been exciting, pleasurable even.’

  The hair rose on my neck. ‘Don’t say that! Don’t call it pleasurable.’

  ‘Why not? Wasn’t dancing with Simeon pleasurable, wasn’t kissing him pleasurable?’

  ‘Don’t say that!’ I shouted.

  She turned her head slightly and looked out the window. ‘Why was it awful, then? Was Jem upset?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did you tell Jem about everything?’

 
‘I told him Simeon was there and that I’d danced with him and he dropped me home.’

  ‘Perhaps you judged it unnecessary to tell him about kissing Simeon,’ said Miriam, delicately. ‘Perhaps you thought it wasn’t important?’

  ‘It wasn’t important. It meant nothing. I didn’t even like him, really.’

  ‘You were attracted to him, though, weren’t you?’

  ‘I was not attracted to him!’ I yelled. My hands were clammy.

  ‘What was awful?’ said Miriam.

  I thought of Jem, his eyes big with fascination when I came in the door that night, the music and the voices chasing through my head. I thought of his firm arms, his delighted face, loving and trusting. I thought of the words that I should have spoken. I felt sick.

  ‘I just wish I’d never kept it from Jem,’ I said softly. ‘I wish I hadn’t been dishonest. That’s when everything started to go wrong.’

  ‘How?’ said Miriam.

  ‘I just couldn’t get a grip on myself, I couldn’t think straight. Everything just got out of hand.’

  ‘You were under great stress,’ said Miriam.

  I was silent.

  ‘Your life was very complicated by then,’ she said kindly. ‘Very stressful.’

  I couldn’t speak. I could feel my throat tightening, the tears of self-pity gathering behind my eyes.

  ‘You weren’t sleeping, you weren’t eating, you were having frightening panic attacks. There was a big problem between you and your mother. And to top it all off, you had the huge burden of grief for Tiggie — or rather the fact that you hadn’t grieved for her.’

  I felt a tear slide down my cheek, my nose start to dribble. Miriam handed me her family-size box of tissues. There was a long silence while I sniffed and blew.

  ‘Do you want to talk about Tiggie?’ she said, ever so gently.

  ‘I can’t,’ I said in a broken, bubbly voice. ‘Not yet.’

  ‘All that complication,’ said Miriam, offering me some water. ‘You must have been desperate for a way out.’

  I knew she meant Simeon, but I couldn’t bear to think of him either, his sexy grin, his knowing looks.

  ‘That’s what Cleo was,’ I said suddenly, ‘the whole thing with Cleo. I knew it was crazy, impossible, but it was like a way out.’

  ‘Go on,’ said Miriam.

  Jem and I lay in bed late, savouring the luxury. I shut kissing Simeon out of my mind. I was expert at that now — not thinking about painful things.

  ‘My brother behave?’ Jem asked me.

  ‘He said you weren’t a monk at school,’ I said, my heart thumping guiltily. ‘But I don’t actuall care if you were Mairehau’s biggest stick man. You’re mine for now.’ I hugged him hard.

  ‘For ever,’ he said, kissing me sweetly.

  ‘I was thinking about Cleo,’ I said, some time later. ‘About getting her out of here.’

  ‘Nice fantasy,’ said Jem. ‘Cost a bundle to get her to Africa though.’

  ‘I’m serious,’ I said.

  ‘Cat,’ he said quietly. ‘Get real.’

  ‘I am serious,’ I said to Cleo, as I hosed the floor of her cage. She was crouching in her little house, waiting for the wet to go away. Her broad, black paws poked out the entrance, at the ready. Though she was quiet, still, for once, I could feel the tension around her, a dark cloud in her cage. I poked clean straw through the flap-door with the long fork. She moved out of the shelter then, her long tail sweeping the floor heavily as she rose.

  ‘I’ll find out,’ I promised her. ‘I’ll work out something. I’ll talk Jem into it.’

  I got a book on wild cats out of the library.

  ‘Did you know that black panthers are actually leopards?’ I said to Jem.

  ‘I think I did,’ he said sleepily. We were at my house, snuggled up, the rain pouring down outside. It was the wettest July in fifty-seven years. The river had broken its banks twice in three weeks.

  ‘You can see Cleo’s spots in the right light,’ he said. ‘Couldn’t I just hide under your covers for the rest of the night? Your mother won’t notice.’

  ‘Poor darling,’ I said, ‘you’ll get so wet.’

  ‘Is that a no?’

  ‘Sometimes she barges in in the mornings.’ Used to, I should have said. Stella was still angry with me for being rude to Precious Paul at the cabaret.

  ‘A tell-tale as well as a smoothie,’ I said sourly.

  ‘He didn’t tell me,’ she spat. ‘Mum did — which should tell you something.’ Indeed. Nan never criticised me. ‘Why are you being like this?’ Stella shouted. ‘Why don’t we communicate properly — God knows I’m trying my—’

  ‘Not now, Stella,’ I said, wearily.

  ‘Well, when? When?’ She had tears standing unshed in her eyes. I suddenly realised something different about her.

  ‘You’re not smoking,’ I said.

  ‘You’ve finally noticed.’

  ‘How come?’

  ‘I’m trying to do something about my health.’

  ‘Oh, I get it,’ I said, mean as a snake. ‘Paul must be a doctor.’

  ‘I can’t talk to you,’ she said quietly, leaving the room, shutting the door softly behind her.

  ‘You’d better go,’ I said to Jem now, regretful.

  ‘When are we going to stop this?’ he said. ‘I’m losing the best years of my life walking to and from my bike.’

  ‘Perhaps you could leave home and get a flat,’ I said helpfully.

  ‘God, I wouldn’t mind,’ he said, getting out of bed, groaning, looking for his jeans. ‘Simeon’s impossible at the moment. Trying the folks to the limit. And they don’t do anything.’

  But I didn’t want to talk about Simeon. ‘Next year,’ I said slowly, an idea flowering. ‘Next year, we’ll both leave home and get a place together. I’ll come clean with Stella then, when I’m leaving.’

  ‘Next year,’ said Jem, hauling on his greatcoat.

  ‘Or we can both shift to Wellington when I get into Police College,’ I said, climbing out of bed and wrapping the coat around me, hugging him.

  ‘I love you,’ he said.

  ‘I love you too.’

  I kissed him.

  ‘Did you know that black panthers are mostly from Asia?’ I said, when we finished.

  ‘So?’ said Jem, blankly.

  ‘So they don’t actually need savannahs.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Well, also, they have a very wide habitat tolerance — the widest of all the big cats. They’re incredibly adaptable, they can exist anywhere there’s food and cover.’

  He stared at me.

  ‘You’re mad, you know?’

  ‘Yeah, but there’s method in my madness,’ I said.

  ‘Leopards are among the most opportunistic of feeders,’ I read out to Jem from my new bible. ‘They feed on a wide range of prey, including — listen to this, this is the important part — including rodents, reptiles, amphibians, large birds, fish and hoofed animals up to twice their own size.’

  ‘Goodbye racing thoroughbreds, goodbye baby lambs, goodbye seals, native birds and family moggies,’ said Jem.

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘goodbye pesky rabbit population and stoats and rats.’

  ‘Cat, Cleo would need twenty rats to make a decent dinner. She’d have to spend all day catching them — if she could find them.’

  ‘That’s what leopards do — big cats — they spend whole days hunting.’

  ‘In the wild, Cat. Cleo’s been caged for eight years, getting her dinner on a pitchfork from Angus, all nicely trimmed with extra vitamins sprinkled. She’ll have lost the knack.’

  ‘She’ll get it back,’ I said, confidently. ‘No problem. It’s instinctive.’

  ‘How do you stop her preying on the other animals, then?’ said Jem, changing tack. ‘How do you keep her away from horses and cows? How do you keep her away from humans, for Christ’s sake? Wild cats just don’t live in cities.’

  ‘Ah, but that’s where
you’re wrong,’ I said, playing my ace. ‘Listen to this: The leopard is the shyest, most elusive and most nocturnal of all the big cats. It is commonplace for leopards to be discovered on the very edges of substantial human settlements, including major cities, so secretive are they, and so adaptable in their diets and lifestyles.’ I looked at him triumphantly.

  ‘Let me see that,’ said Jem.

  We sat with Peppy between us on the double swing in Broad Park, all of us dressed in coats and scarves against the southerly wind. Jem rocked us gently, his long legs brushing the ground.

  ‘Just say, just say, somebody was going to free a black panther from a suburban zoo,’ he said, ‘When would they do it? In the winter?’

  ‘Maybe,’ I said. ‘But it might be too cold. On the other hand, people are around more in the summer. At night.’

  ‘Of course, it would be at night. Have to be.’

  ‘Have to be,’ I agreed.

  Peppy began pulling at Jem, wanting the swing to go faster, higher.

  ‘Okay, Peppy, okay,’ said Jem, working his backside, pumping harder. ‘How would it be done?’

  ‘Well, in Turtle Diary they hired a truck. Can you do that here?’ I asked.

  ‘You can hire anything these days,’ said Jem. Peppy was squealing with pleasure at the rush of the swing.

  ‘Two people would be enough,’ I said. ‘And the owners of the zoo would have to be away.’

  ‘The owners,’ said Jem flatly. He slowed the swing down. ‘The owners are the real stumbling block.’ He looked bleak.

  ‘They wouldn’t have to know,’ I said quickly. ‘Who did it, that is.’ I lifted Peppy down from the swing. ‘Go for a run, Pep. Get some exercise.’

  She crawled off towards the pines, looking back frequently, never letting us out of her sight, just like a toddler.

  ‘It would have to be expertly planned,’ I said softly. ‘And expertly executed. We couldn’t leave any traceable clues. And we’d have to be staunch under questioning, because even if the Salters never suspected us, the police would have us top of the list.’

  ‘This is heavy,’ said Jem.

  ‘We could do it, I know we could,’ I said. ‘We’ve got the brains, we’ve got the means.’