What I Saw Page 7

  If I knew the answer to that, my decision would sit a whole lot easier. But before I can say anything else, he’s turning away.

  ‘Dad?’

  He looks back. ‘What, honey?’

  I take a deep breath, ready to tell, to lean on Dad like I’ve always been able to, but then I notice his usually immaculate hair sticking up all funny at the back. His shirt is untucked too, and his feet are bare. He’s got enough problems.

  I force a grin. The ache in my belly is becoming a permanent fixture. ‘Nothing important.’

  CHAPTER

  6

  Rhett

  In theory, Javier closes the practice at midday on Saturdays.

  But that doesn’t take into account the emergency patient that invariably arrives at half past twelve when we’re cleaning up and settling the weekend animals. Usually I don’t mind the extra hours, but today it means that when I finally finish up at three, I’ve been stewing about my visit to the police station for hours.

  Javier didn’t lecture me on what I should do, but his nod when I mentioned my plan to stop in and see the sergeant on my way home held approval.

  Scarlett is waiting for me out the front. ‘Is she going to tell?’

  ‘It was her brother.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘I think we should go to the police, tell them the truth.’

  Her brows lift. ‘That’s your plan?’

  ‘Hayden Chapman held you there against your will. He hurt you. He might have hurt you more. Someone needs to speak up.’

  Her eyes close. ‘Leave me out of it.’

  ‘I thought you wanted to help?’

  ‘I thought you didn’t want me to be the town slut.’

  ‘Sergeant Peters is a decent guy.’

  ‘Yeah, I remember.’ Her voice is heavy with the past.

  ‘He did all he could back then. He believed us. Anyway, he isn’t the gossiping type.’

  ‘But the receptionist will be. Please, go if you think it will help, but leave me out of it.’

  ‘Are you trying to protect yourself, or Hayden?’

  She storms down the street without another word.

  Knowing she’ll run if I try to follow, I turn towards the police station at the end of Main Street. My heart beats in double time as I walk into the reception area of the squat, ugly, orange-bricked building. It’s musty in here, like no-one has been in here for a long time, and there’s a shrivelled plant in the corner by the window. There’s no-one behind the front counter, so I ring the buzzer before I can change my mind.

  I have time to take in the uniform grey of the walls and the floor and the desk before Sergeant Peters himself strides out. He’s the tallest man I’ve ever seen, and his bones stick out beneath pale skin. He has the hollow cheeks of the permanently hungry.

  And everything I planned to say disappears.

  He nods like he was expecting me. ‘How can I help you?’

  ‘I want to make a statement.’ The words squeak out, when I meant to sound mature and confident.

  ‘Really?’ he drawls. He lowers his silver-framed glasses and peers at me over the top. Unlike most people in this town, he’s always been fair to me. Hard, but fair. He waits.

  ‘It’s about what happened at the school last night,’ I blurt. ‘I want it on record that I didn’t hit Hayden Chapman.’

  He taps his pen on the countertop. ‘All we know so far is that there’s been an accident. You’ve come here to refute an accusation nobody’s made.’

  ‘They will. I mean, they have. To Ando … Mr Anderson.’

  ‘I see.’ He taps the pen a few more times. ‘And you say you didn’t do it.’ He pauses. ‘We both know you have a temper, though, don’t we, son?’ His eyes search my face like he’s looking for guilt in my pores.

  Coming here has tightened the noose around my neck.

  ‘My temper is under control now, sir.’ I try not to choke on the title. It’s not Sergeant Peters’s fault I got sent to anger management counselling four years ago while the real criminal, Ma’s latest attempt at a happily ever after, walked out of town. My hand itches to make a fist, but I exhale hard and banish the memories I’m usually better at keeping locked away. It must be this place.

  ‘And I have no marks on my hands,’ I add. I wave my hands, not clean or soft but without any swelling or fresh bruises.

  ‘Hmm …’ Sergeant Peters murmurs, without looking down at my knuckles. ‘Is there anyone who can confirm you didn’t hit Hayden Chapman last night?’

  ‘Scarlett. My sister.’

  He arches a brow. ‘Someone not related?’

  I consider my options. Scarlett banned me from bringing her into it. Timmy and Sean have already decided to back each other. Callie Jones. But she’s going to protect her brother. She’ll lie, and in her place I’d probably do the same thing. I could see she felt bad about it from the dark smudges of worry under her eyes. I wouldn’t have guessed a princess like her would lose any sleep over someone like me.

  I shake my head. ‘No.’

  For a second I think I see sympathy in the sergeant’s face but then there’s just annoyance. ‘Next time you want to unconfess a crime, try to have some real evidence to make it worth our time.’

  ‘Yes … sir.’ I head for the door.

  Coming here was a mistake, I knew it.

  The Chapmans will be hurting and looking for someone to blame. Someone like me. And without Callie there’s not a single thing I can do about it.

  * * *

  While I’ve been making an idiot of myself at the police station, Scarlett has had a lot of time to think about Hayden Chapman. After the way she stormed off, I’m not surprised when I get home and she’s not there. One more thing to add to my shit day.

  Ma is reclined on the couch, as always, a damp cloth over her eyes. ‘Is that you, love?’ she asks, lifting the edge of the cloth. She’s an older version of Scarlett with her red-streaked blonde hair, big green eyes and tiny frame.

  ‘No, I’m an intruder come to take all your worldly possessions.’ I make a show of examining the green line through the centre of the TV screen and the couch with scratch marks from the previous owner’s cat. ‘On second thoughts, I’ll try somewhere else.’

  Ma chuckles and some of the tension in me drains at the sound. She must be having a good day.

  She rests the cloth back over her eyes and sighs. ‘I have to work tonight, so you and Scarlett will need to find something for dinner.’

  I try to cover my shock. ‘You have a new job?’

  Her mouth curves a little. Her smile is just like Scarlett’s—if you take out all the hope and life. ‘The diner in St Martin’s is short-staffed and they offered me some shifts.’

  The pressure clamping my chest at the pile of bills on the sideboard loosens. It will be good to have someone else bringing money into the house. Maybe she’ll stick it out this time.

  ‘Great news.’ I put all the enthusiasm I can into those two words. ‘Have you seen Scarlett?’

  Ma doesn’t answer.

  I move closer, my steps loud and crunchy on the bare vinyl floor. It doesn’t matter. Her thin chest rises and falls with a familiar regularity. She’s asleep again. I’ve thought of making her see someone for her tiredness. We’ve talked about it, but she promises she’s fine, and I’m afraid they’ll confirm she just can’t be bothered. With any of it. With us.

  I have a fast shower and debate waiting around to make sure Ma wakes in time for her shift. There’s still no sign of Scarlett when she stirs from the couch, so I head out to find her.

  There aren’t too many places she could be. Thanks to the bills that came in this week she has no money for the shops. And like me, she doesn’t have many friends, so it’s not like she’d be at a girlfriend’s house. She’s always got along better with guys, loves to talk footy and prefers beer over the lolly water girls seem to like, but she’s too pretty to be a tomboy.

  Before last summer she was nobody at school, just like
me. Then, thanks to a few dates with Hayden Chapman and others, she suddenly got a reputation as the school slut.

  Mostly, I try not to think about it. If I think about it for too long, the anger builds inside me and I fear not even a session in the ring with Javier will keep it at bay.

  First, I try down by the creek that runs behind our place and goes all the way to the sea. It has some big flat rocks perfect for sun-baking. I hope to see her, toes dangling in the water like she’s at a resort, but it’s deserted.

  The wind is on my face as I pick my way down towards the sea. Sometimes I think the extra minutes Scarlett took to be born were because she loved the watery environment too much to join us ordinary folk on the outside. She swims every day, no matter how often I tell her that it’s dangerous, that she should wait until I can go with her.

  I break into a jog.

  Running towards my sister. Running away from Callie Jones and the town she belongs to.

  Sweat forms on my skin and is immediately sucked away by the wind. My heart races. My thoughts churn faster. Images fill my head, scattered like playing cards in a game I know I’m going to lose. I see Hayden falling to the ground, his eyes rolling back in their sockets.

  I can’t be blamed for this. I can’t.

  I swore I’d look after Ma and Scarlett. Not that Dad deserved my promise, but I made it, and I never thought a punch thrown by some dumbass kid would destroy everything I’ve worked so hard to keep together.

  I ease up around the last bend, my heartbeat thundering in my ears. But when I reach the rocks overlooking the sea and hunch over, trying to catch my breath, there’s no sign of my sister. I look for her, stroking out towards the end of the new jetty, but she’s not there.

  The sea breeze is icy on my cheeks as I study the horizon, half hoping I’ll make out her body cutting effortlessly through the waves.

  There’s no-one. And there’s only one more place she’s likely to be. I should have known. She’s gone to the fucking hospital.

  I pick up a rock and throw it as far as I can. Instead of a satisfying splash, it lands a few feet short of the water and stops harmlessly, cushioned by the sand.

  It takes me twenty minutes to trudge up the hill past the housing estate where Callie lives, and then out to the small hospital on the edge of town. I figure as long as Hayden isn’t moved to one of the big hospitals in the city, there’s hope that his condition is not too serious.

  There’s no-one in reception so I follow the signs to the special care unit. If Scarlett is here, then that’s where she’ll be—as close as she can get to Hayden. I’d like to think it’s so she can rip into him for being a slimeball, but she still seems eager to defend him despite what he did last night.

  I push the thoughts away.

  This isn’t the place to risk my temper. I walk with my head up, trying to look as though I belong here with the classy paintings on the walls and antiseptic-flavoured air-conditioning. The nurses hurrying past seem to buy my act; no-one stops and questions me.

  I shove my hands deeper into the pockets of my hoodie as I approach the end of the hall and try to melt into the peach wall behind me. If she’s not here, I don’t want to disturb anyone.

  My gut cramps and my steps slow.

  If his parents think I did it and then I walk in like I own the place …

  This is a mistake. Seeing me would be even worse for them than Scarlett making a scene. I should have asked Javier to come by and look for her. I still can. I’m set to turn back, but then I hear shouting. Scarlett’s voice is the loudest. ‘It’s a public waiting room.’

  I’m too late.

  When I walk into the waiting room, Bree Madden is facing the doorway. Her tear-drenched, red-faced focus is on Scarlett, but in between them stands Callie Jones. She’s tied her hair back and slipped into a black cropped jacket. Her cheeks are pink, like she’s just been running. I notice her hands clasped together nervously.

  ‘No-one wants you here,’ Bree shouts at my sister.

  ‘Hayden wanted me last night,’ Scarlett fires back.

  ‘You wish. You’ve had your eye on him for months. Don’t think I didn’t notice your attempts to steal him. We laughed about it.’

  Scarlett blanches. ‘Then what was he doing outside with me?’

  ‘Probably saving you from making an embarrassing scene. He wants class in a girlfriend.’

  ‘Like you?’

  ‘At least I’m not related to the person who hit him.’

  ‘Neither am I. Remember, it was you he left behind last night.’

  Bree launches herself at Scarlett. ‘Get out of here, you stupid bitch.’

  As Callie puts out her arms to stop Bree, my sister’s hand goes to her hips in a pose I’ve seen too many times to count. ‘Make me.’

  ‘Quiet down, both of you,’ says Callie. ‘This is a hospital.’

  Bree turns her glare on Callie. ‘Keep out of this. You’re not a doctor yet.’

  I file away this insight at the same time as I wonder why Callie’s even friends with someone like Bree.

  Callie’s gaze meets mine. It’s like she heard my thought. Relief shows in her caramel eyes. Relief and something else. Then it’s gone and she’s talking to Scarlett. ‘It’s probably better if you go. Mrs Chapman is due back any minute and you don’t want to upset her, do you?’

  Good luck trying to use reason with Scarlett.

  I stride forward and touch my sister on the arm. ‘Come on. Let’s go.’ I ignore Bree’s gasp at my arrival—she obviously thinks I’m the one who put Hayden here. ‘You’re not helping anyone.’

  Scarlett shakes her head. ‘I don’t have to do what you say.’

  ‘No-one wants you here, Scarlett,’ chirps Bree from behind me. ‘Hayden’s mine.’

  I turn to her, and I don’t know what she sees in my face but she takes a step back. ‘Before you open your mouth, think long and hard about what your boyfriend was doing behind the art centre with two of his buddies cornering a girl who was only expecting him, while you were inside the hall drinking yourself stupid.’ I don’t wait for her reaction but concentrate on Scarlett. ‘Please.’

  Scarlett’s eyes narrow. ‘I’ll leave.’

  I know my sister. There’s a condition coming.

  Her head swivels towards Callie and she points. ‘If she takes me home.’

  Bree nudges her friend none too gently in her back. ‘Take her,’ she orders in a growl. ‘Get that bitch out of here.’

  Callie’s gaze swings between Scarlett and Bree.

  I don’t want to beg her, but I certainly don’t want to be standing here when Hayden’s parents return. ‘It’s not far,’ I say.

  Callie sighs. ‘Okay.’

  The other two girls smile in victory. Bree’s smile I understand, because she gets to continue her role as grieving girlfriend at Hayden’s side, but I don’t see what Scarlett’s playing at. As far as I know, she’s never said two words to Callie Jones.

  Scarlett and I wait by the door while Callie shares a whispered conversation with Bree.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I mutter.

  But Scarlett is too busy trying to lip-read the girls’ conversation to pay me any attention. I don’t really mind. I get an excuse to look at Callie.

  ‘Ready?’

  I lift my gaze from her tight jeans to meet her eyes, and shrug. If she’s going to be this hot, I’m going to look when I get the chance. It’s better than thinking about the trouble I’m in thanks to her brother.

  Callie directs us to where she’s parked, down the street from the hospital. We all get in her little blue hatch. Her ride is better than my ma old bomb, but I don’t comment.

  As we drive, Callie glances at Scarlett in the back, who’s busy staring out the window. ‘Why would you even want to see him after the way he treated you?’

  ‘Damn good question,’ I agree.

  Scarlett sniffs. ‘He could be dying in there. I can’t just switch off my feelings for him. I never even go
t the chance to ask him what he meant to happen.’ But despite her defence, there’s uncertainty in her voice. Is she finally realising the truth about Hayden? But then she adds, ‘Maybe there’s a good explanation.’

  ‘For that?’ Callie shakes her head. ‘I can’t see it.’

  ‘Better question,’ says Scarlett. ‘How can you let the person responsible for putting Hayden in hospital get away with it?’

  Callie follows my instructions to turn left, then right for a minute without answering. ‘I guess I can’t just switch off my feelings about my family.’

  Finally we’re home. I point. ‘This is us.’

  Callie parks outside the house. Without a word of thanks, Scarlett jumps out of the car, still sniffling. She breaks into a run as she steps through the front gate and then she’s inside, and the door slams behind her.

  Callie joins me on the footpath. She’s looking over my shoulder, following the direction of Scarlett’s dramatic exit. I glance back towards the house and wonder if she sees what I see; the peeling paint and rusted holes in the gutters. Or the broken window that Javier helped me board up a week ago. What should be lawn is a weed jungle because I haven’t had time to borrow Javier’s mower for months. The place is a hole.

  Heat flares in the tips of my ears. ‘Thanks for the ride. We’ll be fine from here.’

  ‘You’re not going to invite me in?’

  She’s persistent, but I know what’s behind that door and I’ve seen her mansion. I shake my head and fold my arms. ‘No. I appreciate the ride but I should probably talk to Scarlett.’

  Callie doesn’t move.

  ‘This wasn’t an invitation to afternoon tea.’

  She flinches.

  It’s the truth, but I hate how it comes out.

  Her head drops and her hands twist together. ‘You’re right, I should probably go.’

  I wait. She doesn’t move.

  ‘It’s not fair,’ she says to the ground.

  ‘What?’

  She lifts her head and the thing we can’t escape rears up between us again. ‘I keep telling myself that you didn’t hit Hayden. Sean did. Sean met that pig behind the art centre with plans I can’t bear to guess for Scarlett and then he hit his friend. I know all this. But how can I turn in my own brother?’