PRAISE FOR THE WOMEN’S CIRCLE
‘An emotionally resonant and absorbing read, The Women’s Circle is a gritty but uplifting celebration of womanhood and the inherent power of female connection. Karyn Sepulveda has a wonderful capacity to inhabit the lives of two very different women, separated by centuries but connected through adversity and a powerful spirit to succeed against all odds.’
CASSIE HAMER, AUTHOR OF THE END OF CUTHBERT CLOSE
‘I inhaled this deeply moving story of two brave women, each with their own cross to bear, separated by time and circumstance but united by the healing power of the sisterhood. Read it, share it and let it transport you!’
TESS WOODS, AUTHOR OF LOVE AND OTHER BATTLES
THE WOMEN’S CIRCLE
THE WOMEN’S CIRCLE
KARYN SEPULVEDA
This book is published in 2021 by Ventura Press
PO Box 780, Edgecliff NSW 2027 Australia
www.venturapress.com.au
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Copyright © Karyn Sepulveda 2021
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any other information storage retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher.
ISBN: 978-1-920727-71-0 (paperback)
ISBN: 978-1-920727-72-7 (ebook)
Cover design by Christabella Designs
Internal design by WorkingType
For Fernando, Gabriella and Xavier.
Thank you for believing with me.
CHAPTER ONE
IF ANNA TRIED hard enough, she could imagine she was somewhere else. The damp, itchy grass on which she lay could belong in a park. The late afternoon sun warming her skin could be shining in a sky that stretched across a beach. The chatter surrounding her could be women going about their everyday business.
‘Fucken wake up, Anna.’
Anna opened her eyes. Her cellmate Ro stood over her, blocking the sunlight and causing a shadow.
‘What?’ Anna hated it when Ro bugged her.
‘I thought you fell asleep out here.’ Ro shrugged and trudged off. Anna sighed and sat up, scanning the yard. Ro had joined the usual crowd – a group of half a dozen of the youngest women in Silverwater prison who mostly sat around complaining about the crap they were missing out on. Anna could tell by their raised voices and hand gestures that they were probably talking about guys, alcohol or partying. She rolled her eyes. She didn’t understand why they wasted their time missing the stuff that most likely sent them here. Anna stood, stretched her arms high and then reached down, trying to touch her toes. Despite her naturally muscular body, she always felt stiff and sore. Anna wondered if this was what she’d feel like out there. Would she get some crappy job like she had in here, standing in the same spot for hours, packing useless stuff into tiny boxes? Or maybe she’d get really healthy and exercise all the time, wear those matching crop tops and tight pants. Anna laughed at the thought.
‘What’s so funny?’ Anna hadn’t noticed Sam shuffle over to her. Sam offered her a cigarette, but Anna shook her head.
‘Nothing.’
Sam nodded as though she understood there was no such thing as nothing thoughts in here. ‘So, you excited or what?’
Anna ignored her quickened pulse, shoving her shaky hands in her pockets. She shook her head. ‘Not really, no.’ Anna’s voice betrayed none of the emotion that threatened to make her throw up.
Sam nodded again, blowing the smoke from her cigarette away from Anna. ‘You’ll write to me, yeah?’
‘Of course I will.’ Out of all the women here, Sam was the only one Anna would miss. In the six years Anna had been locked up, Sam was the one she’d hated the most at first. Sam had been a fierce bitch in the beginning, always getting in Anna’s face and starting fights. But then they’d discovered they were from the same town in Santiago, Chile: Peñaflor. They’d spent hours asking each other what almacens – corner stores – they remembered, making themselves hungry discussing favourite dishes like completos and the perfect way to layer avocado, onions and tomato over steaming beef. It was impossible to hate each other after that. Anna learned that Sam was a cow to everyone because she was as lonely as it gets, and that kind of logic made sense to Anna.
‘Good.’ Sam coughed and then walked off. She had years until she was up for parole, so Anna knew they’d probably never see each other again. But she would write to her. Letters made the days go faster and she wanted the days to go fast for Sam.
‘What will you do first, huh? Get wasted, right?’ Ro asked just as Anna was drifting off to sleep later that night. Anna groaned and rolled over, hugging her pillow against her body and resisting the urge to get up and smack Ro in the face. Ro had a knack for starting a conversation just as Anna was falling asleep.
‘You awake?’ Ro hissed when Anna ignored her.
‘Shut up.’ Anna didn’t want to talk to Ro. She didn’t want to think about the next day. She just wanted to go to sleep like every night and deal with tomorrow when it came.
Ro huffed and made a big deal of moving around in her bed. ‘Sorry for caring.’ Anna didn’t feel sorry for her. Ro was the worst kind of dumb. Underneath, she was smart – she was in jail for white-collar computer shit that Anna didn’t even understand. But Ro had no common sense. She just said whatever popped into her head, whenever she wanted to say it. Anna couldn’t wait to never see her again. This time tomorrow she wouldn’t be sharing a room with her. She’d be in her own room, in the boarding house the social worker, Jeanette, had told her she’d be living in for six months. When Jeanette had visited her last week to organise the details of her release she had been dressed very badly, in clothes that smelled as old and musty as they looked. But she’d been nice. She’d told Anna that Chile was her favourite place she’d travelled. That she liked Anna’s accent. That she knew everything would work out for her.
‘How do you know that?’ Anna had asked, needing to know that she was right.
Jeanette had held Anna’s gaze for a moment and then smiled again. ‘I know people and I know you’re strong enough. This is a fresh start for you, Anna, so take it with both hands.’
Anna thought of that now. She imagined the opportunities this woman was talking about – living somewhere clean, finding a job, saving her own money. But all she could see was that old piss-soaked mattress and the filthy wooden floors, with the smell of drugs and rot suffocating her. Anna squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated on Ro’s deep breathing, until finally her mind went blank and she fell into a familiar dreamless sleep.
Anna’s toast tasted the same. Her coffee just as bitter. Sam ate breakfast next to her, in her usual silence. The huge, fluorescent-lit dining hall looked the same, smelled the same. Anna felt as though she were an alien in a bizarre world. In an hour or so, she’d be out of here. She’d walk through the sliding glass doors and she’d be on the outside. Just like that.
What was she supposed to do out there? She was thirty years old and had never held a job. What kind of life could she have now? Anna’s chest felt as though it was filled with concrete. She panicked that something terrible was going to happen. Her eyes darted around at the other women. Surely she was being watched. Someone was going to attack her. That was it. They didn’t want her to leave so they’d kill her instead.
‘Hey, what are you doing?’ Sam’s hand was on Anna’s arm and it was only then Anna realised she’d half stood. She sat back down. Sam’s hand remained where it was. ‘You’re sweating, man. You nervous?’
Anna nodded, took a sip of her coffee.
‘You’re all right. You’ll be all right out there.’
�
��I don’t think I will,’ Anna said, her voice barely audible. She and Sam didn’t have heart to hearts. They kept each other company, but they didn’t talk much. Sam squeezed Anna’s arm gently, then went back to eating her breakfast.
The doors closed quietly behind her. No bang, no siren, no announcement that she was now in the real world. Anna was out. She was wearing a pair of black trackpants two sizes too big, and a thin grey t-shirt a little too tight. A prison officer had handed the clothes to her, along with a small plastic bag with some toiletries and one taxi voucher that would get her to the boarding house. She faced the road, waiting for her taxi. The sunlight reflected off the asphalt road, right into her eyes. The sun was different out here. The sky was different too. There was too much of everything. She wanted to be back in there. Sitting next to Sam, her solid, silent presence reminding Anna that everything was okay. Anna looked up at the large apartment block across the street, but that was even worse; the sun’s rays bounced straight off the glass windows, like knives in her eyes. She put her arm over her face and let the dark settle her. I know people and I know you’re strong enough to do this. Anna reminded herself of Jeanette’s words, sparking the memory of another voice, so distant it was almost forgotten. Together, we can do anything. You and I … we can do anything, mi corazón.
Anna dropped her arm, surprised by her own memory. She thought she’d forgotten her mother’s voice. Anna’s eyes adjusted to the sunlight. She stood still, gripping the plastic bag tightly as she stared into her past.
Anna peered around the folds of her mama’s skirt to look up at the man standing in the doorway. She couldn’t see him properly – just a blur of dark hair and a red shirt – but she knew from the way he spoke that he wasn’t a nice man. Her mama kept a hand on Anna’s shoulder as she listened to the man fire short, sharp words at her. When he was finished, her mama spoke back, in a voice that Anna didn’t recognise. It was loud and just as scary as the man’s. Anna didn’t know what they were yelling about – something to do with money and missing a payment and kneecaps. Finally, Anna’s mama slammed the door shut, pulled Anna out from behind her legs and picked her up. She shifted Anna onto her hip and walked to the back of the house where she’d been cooking in the kitchen. Her mama was still muttering words that Anna didn’t know when she placed Anna on a chair and resumed cutting vegetables at the cramped kitchen bench.
‘Mi amor, you know the problem with people in this world?’
Anna shook her head.
‘All they care about is money and they’ll do anything to get it.’ Mama shook her head and chopped the next carrot violently.
‘Have we run out of money?’ Anna asked. She knew they didn’t have a lot. It was just the two of them living in this tiny house in a small town on the outskirts of the city. An old man had owned the house and he’d lived next door. But he’d died a while ago and ever since then a younger man, his son, had been coming to the door, shouting at her mother.
‘No, mi amor, we haven’t run out of money. Everything will be fine.’ Anna’s mama smiled in the same way she did when she’d told Anna that getting stitches in her cut foot wouldn’t hurt. Anna tried to smile back and hoped the shouting man would go and die as well.
The same week that Anna was due to start school, she and her mother moved out of the little house and in with her grandmother. Anna knew her mama didn’t like Abuela. She could tell by the way Mama stood stiffly the few times Abuela visited, and how Mama spoke in a short, clipped voice whenever she was on the phone with her. But they didn’t have a choice. The red-shirted man had started coming every day to shout at her mama. Then twice a day, and when her mama refused to open the door, he started banging loudly, without stopping. And then one day when Anna and her mama arrived home from the market, they found their belongings dumped on the path outside their home, wet and dirty from the morning rain. Their key no longer fitted in the lock. Anna burst into tears, sure she was now homeless.
‘Stop, mi amor, stop crying.’ Mama dropped down to her knees. She lifted Anna’s chin with her finger and wiped the tears from her face as Anna swallowed another sob.
‘There is nothing to worry about; we are going to be fine. Together, we can do anything. You and I … we can do anything, mi corazón.’
Anna looked around her, half expecting her mother to be with her. She could feel Mama’s arm around her waist, smell the sweet citrus of her perfume. Anna noticed a small movement on a plant a few metres away, in the garden bed at the edge of the jail’s entrance. She looked up the road to check the taxi wasn’t coming yet, then she moved over to the plant. Sitting on a dark green leaf was a butterfly. Its black wings were covered in intricate blue patterns, as though an artist had spent days perfecting them. Anna placed her finger on the leaf next to the butterfly and as though it had been waiting for her, the butterfly moved onto her fingertip. Anna held her breath and brought the butterfly up to her face. It moved its wings and as Anna looked more closely at the blue markings, an overwhelming warmth filled her with comfort. Everything was going to be fine.
Beep. ‘Oi, Mrs, you waiting for a taxi?’ a voice hollered and the butterfly flew away, taking Anna’s sense of peace with it. She shivered, gripped her plastic bag and walked over to the waiting taxi, without looking back.
CHAPTER TWO
WHEN ANNA ARRIVED at the boarding house, Jeanette was waiting for her out the front, smiling.
Her teeth are way too big. Anna hated that her first thought about her social worker was so shallow. She handed the voucher to the taxi driver, mumbled her thanks and held her small plastic bag tightly as she got out of the car.
‘Anna!’ Jeanette said and kissed Anna on the cheek as though they were old friends. ‘It’s so nice to see you again. Out here.’ Jeanette waved her hand about and Anna looked around. She knew this road. It was a side street to Parramatta Road in Marrickville, a suburb around twenty minutes from the centre of Sydney. Not far from where Anna had lived back then.
Anna was shivering from the cold, wet air as she lay on the concrete floor of the empty unit they were squatting in. Jake had said he wouldn’t be long, but it felt like he’d been gone for hours. She tried to stand up, to go out and look for him, knowing he was probably in his usual selling spot – outside the gaming arcade on George Street. But a violent nausea overcame her and she dropped to her knees and vomited, acid burning her mouth. Jake had always promised that she’d never be addicted. That they were choosing to have fun. But her body needed a hit now; her bones ached for it.
Anna shook the memory away and concentrated on looking around. The road was narrow, overcrowded with parked cars and lined with tired-looking houses. The small, fibro shack in front of her looked particularly exhausted, with its splintered window frames and cracked walls. The front yard was a tiny patch of grass, beside a tinier patch of dirt, overridden with weeds. A short, weathered timber fence lined the property and was in stark contrast to the modern concrete mailbox.
‘It’s pretty crappy, I know,’ said Jeanette. ‘But it’s clean. The other girls here are good eggs too and they clean up after themselves.’
Anna nodded. ‘Okay. Thanks.’
Jeanette placed her hand gently on Anna’s back. ‘Ready?’
No, Anna wanted to say. She wanted to be in the yard with Sam. Not talking. Watching the other girls, judging them. Laughing whenever Sam cracked a one-liner, and sitting with her thoughts the rest of the time. Jeanette was watching her. Anna didn’t meet her eye, but she nodded again.
Mould, spaghetti bolognaise and cigarette smoke; the combining smells of the home overwhelmed Anna from the moment she walked in. It was so different from the crisp smell of air freshener and Dettol in the prison. But the house was tidy and quiet. They stepped straight into a small lounge room furnished with two leather couches that looked as though they were older than Anna. There was a small television in the corner of the room and a few printouts of motivating quotes were stuck to the walls. Anna found it hard to believe that anybody
agreed ‘Today is the day’ in a room like this. Jeanette led her through a narrow hallway, pointing out the cramped kitchen and bathroom. At the very back of the house, beside the laundry, was Anna’s room. A single bed was pushed against a wall and folded sheets sat on top of the stained mattress. The window was draped with thin white curtains streaked with yellow marks. But there was an armchair in the corner that was covered in cheap-looking fabric in Anna’s favourite shade of blue and she imagined herself sitting on it, thinking.
‘I know it’s not much. But it’s your own space. You can go to bed any time you like. No light curfews here.’ Jeanette’s big teeth flashed in another smile. ‘And please remember this is only temporary. My role as your social worker was to set you up here and put you in touch with employment services. But …’ Jeanette dragged the word out. ‘I’m so happy I can now tell you that I’m also your mentor! I volunteer for a spectacular program, Women in Prison Advocacy Network, or WIPAN. It’s completely separate from my job, that’s why I couldn’t tell you until you were officially released, but it means I get to help you with so much more.’ Jeanette was grinning and Anna had to admit, she didn’t dislike the idea of seeing her again. Anna had been told that her social worker would only help her settle in, then move on to other soon-to-be-released inmates. Jeanette sat on the end of the bed and gestured for Anna to sit down too. Anna chose the chair, which was comfier than it looked.
‘I’ll be here twice a week to help you with your job search, and settling in to your job once you find one. We’ll set up some savings goals together and create a plan to help you move on to more permanent housing once your six months here is up. Oh, and I can help you select your therapy of choice for your parole period.’
Jeanette’s voice felt far away, as though she were speaking from another room. Anna had known she’d have to think of all of these things once she was out. She knew that the boarding house was temporary and she couldn’t survive on the eight hundred dollars she’d managed to save from her industries work in prison. But she didn’t know how she was going to do all of this. Her urge to escape was intense. She’d do something small. Not ice. She’d never do that again. But maybe something softer, just to take the edge off. Pot would be okay.
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