‘You have stalked me, you’ve threatened me, you’ve harassed me in every possible way. What on earth makes you think I’d want to go anywhere with you?’
He looks, for a moment, as if he’s heard, as if he’s taken it in and realised the extent of what he’s done. Then he draws himself up. It was just a mirage. Crazy Dave is back. ‘You’re mine,’ he hisses. ‘We’re meant to be. I knew that the moment I first saw you. Why are you making me do this?’
This only increases my anger. ‘I am not making you do anything. I’ve never given you the slightest encouragement. This is your doing. All your doing. You have tried to ruin my life for no reason. Fuck you!’
His expression turns ugly and he makes a move towards me. ‘You stupid bitch.’
‘Just leave me alone!’ I begin to back away and draw my knife and hold it so he can’t lunge for me without risking injury. I’m shaking like a leaf, my legs feel like jelly and I’m afraid I might fall but I hang in there. ‘I don’t want to hurt you, Dave. But I will if I have to.’
He laughs, a very nasty laugh, like a horror-movie clown. ‘I don’t think so,’ he says, and from behind his back he produces what looks like Matt’s taser, and a wave of horror takes over my body, from my toes to the hairs on my head. My little knife has no chance against such a monstrous object. He’s still laughing as he raises his arm, ready to fire.
Then, oh miracle of miracles, there’s the sound of a key and Gabi comes back through the gate, so startled by the spectacle of a man in black about to taser me that she drops her plastic bag of milk and bread and screams bloody murder. For a split second Dave is paralysed, unable to process what’s happening, and in that second I drop my knife, leap forward and wrench the taser from his grasp.
And then, without taking any time to think of the morality of what I’m doing, I point the weapon straight at Dave’s heart. I’ve never fired a gun, but I manage to find the trigger and squeeze it. There’s a loud crack and two wires snake onto Dave’s chest, the electrical current making the horrible sound I heard not so long ago in Matt’s cabin. And it’s Dave’s legs that collapse from under him, he can’t speak, he doesn’t seem to be able to see what’s going on, and Gabi shrinks against the wall and stares at me, white-faced with horror.
I hear sirens, far away, and then nearer. And nearer. Finally, Dave looks around as if awakening from a trance and hears them too. He’s still bewildered, lying helplessly on the ground. He tries to rally, to crawl towards the gate, but he can’t move, his limbs are completely uncoordinated, and I hear a racket outside, and run to open the gate to let in the police.
To my great relief, Dave was quickly cleared of having any lasting physical damage. To my even greater relief, Gabi’s statement, plus what the police already suspected about Dave, meant that he was taken immediately into custody. Seeing him being led off in handcuffs gave me the best night’s sleep I’d had for quite some time.
He didn’t go quietly, of course. His last words were: ‘I’ll get you, Alix. You will be mine. I’ll never give up,’ and regular reports appeared in the media of escape plans and threats by Dave to come back and kidnap me. Some elements of the media, mainly gossip magazines and commercial current affairs shows, tried to make it into a romantic story, calling him ‘the Jailbird Casanova’, but the more reputable media outlets described him as what he was, a stalker. My name was never released by the police, and I’m very grateful that so far it has not appeared in print or online.
From all the reports it quickly became clear that Dave blamed Matthew Pentecost for ‘frightening off the love of my life’ after Dave had lured me to the island. He seemed to believe that all his dreams of a union with me would have been realised if not for Matt’s threatening behaviour, and in his rancour he gave detailed statements accusing Matt of organising the drug network, dealing in the importing and sale of prohibited weapons, and distribution of pornographic materials. But the coup de grâce was his description of standing ‘helplessly’ by as Matt tied the two young backpackers up, force-fed them lethal doses of drugs, tasered them when they screamed and filmed every moment as the two men watched them slowly die.
Even just the suspicion of his role in this was enough for Matt to end up in remand with his former partner-incrime, where he in turn tried to put all the blame onto Dave. The police, and the media, were still trying to get to the truths hidden in this tangle of accusation and counter-accusation, when Dave took matters into his own hands.
THE COURIER
MAN SHOT BY POLICE DURING ESCAPE ATTEMPT
By Simeon Cornish
Known as one of the two main suspects in the notorious ‘backpacker’ killings, David Grogan, 25, was being transferred to remand when he attacked two prison guards and made a bid to escape. When police arrived and attempted to subdue him, Grogan produced a knife and threatened to stab one of the prison guards.
‘It was not possible to reason with him,’ a police spokesperson stated. ‘In the end shots were fired and Mr Grogan died at the scene.’
Grogan, who was being sought by police on suspicion of involvement in the murders of two young girls, and a number of other crimes, was arrested two days ago after being caught in the act of attempting to ‘taser’ another intended victim.
Matthew Pentecost, 26, the son of local billionaire Niall Pentecost, is also in police custody in relation to this case.
I can’t begin to describe the depth of my relief when I heard that Dave had been shot dead by the police. I know I should feel sorry for him, but I can’t. ‘Suicide by cop’ the media are calling it, but I don’t think so. Dave was in the grip of an obsession to get back to me, and I don’t believe he would have wanted to die before that mission was fulfilled. The question that continues to haunt me is who supplied him with that knife, and I don’t think I’ll ever know the answer to that particular puzzle.
Now at last the whirlwind has arrived. It has already taken Dave Grogan, and I have a strong feeling that it will go on blowing until the lives of those two innocent young women have been fully avenged.
AFTERMATH
I have been a stranger in a strange land.
King James Bible, Exodus 2:22.
And what about me? What about Alix? Physically, I’m back to my old level of fitness. My memory has almost completely returned, but that is definitely a mixed blessing. There are so many things that I’d be happy to forget.
Where I live now is in a very closely packed urban area. Fortunately the block is fringed by trees and greenery, but unlike our old place in St Kilda there is nowhere to walk, or even anywhere to sit outside. I work in the centre of the city, so after my time on the island surrounded by trees, shrubs and rocks, I have found the endless concrete and lack of gardens cold and uninviting. For a while I took to walking the streets in the evenings, back to my old habits, but the stunted street trees and paved gardens with their spindly potted succulents did nothing to relieve my longing for green.
Then one day I stumbled upon a local park planted entirely with native Australian trees and shrubs and I now find my feet turning automatically to walk the three blocks to enter its cast-iron gates. It’s never crowded and the path that takes you in a leisurely circle through its different sections is generously dotted with old-fashioned wooden seats. I spend happy half-hours among the acacias and eucalypts, excitedly recognising old friends as I come across a stand of sheoaks or a windswept common boobialla drooping over a sculpture of strategically placed rocks. One wet day when I had the park to myself I gently squeezed a coast banksia flower and greedily sucked my fingers to taste the familiar nectar.
My lovely friend Kathryn came with me for a walk through the park and I was able to show her some of my lifesaving trees and plants. There wasn’t a lot to see, certainly no fruits or berries, but I showed her the stands of coast banksias and sheoaks, and was able to tell her about the nectar and how I used sheoak branchlets as cushioning material. I think it brought home to both of us in quite a visceral way how harsh my life on
the island had been.
We’ve had a couple of walks in local state parks as well and I think I’m having a bit of an influence. Her mother has all sorts of rules for women to live by, such as ‘Never let a man see you without full makeup and high heels’, so encouraging Kathryn to get out and about in sensible shoes and without worrying about appearances seems to me a good way to lighten her up and perhaps give her a chance of meeting some more down-to-earth blokes.
She’s influencing me too. We’ve actually been out on a ‘double date’, with the compromise (for my sake) that it was a picnic in a park, not a night out clubbing. It was with two guys she met at a conference, not online. They were both earth scientists, and my guy, Bill, was keen on photography – had actually been to the exhibition I’d seen in St Kilda where I ran into Dave. If only I’d met Bill instead of Dave, my life would have been very different. And I have to admit it went rather well. I might even do it again.
I certainly want to break out of my hermit-like existence of working long hours and going home alone, broken up by occasional climbing holidays with virtual strangers. It’s my time for a richer life, with friends, perhaps even a lover, and new horizons. Oddly enough, having seen Jonathan again has served to banish his ghost once and for all and left me ready to move on.
I know that being in the cave has left its mark on me. Although I don’t have the dreams, even hallucinations, I experienced there, I feel forever changed. Stronger at my core, yet more vulnerable. It’s as if a protective layer I had built up to shield me from harm, and perhaps from too much feeling, has been torn away, that I am now unarmoured in the face of life’s slings and arrows.
When I was living like a castaway on the island I realised that this strange antipodean landscape has become my shelter and my friend. After years of not knowing where I belong, I have found my true country. I didn’t initially comprehend how close I came to crossing that wavering line between life and death, but what I did come to understand is that although sparse in gifts and harsh in nature, this unforgiving landscape has nurtured me and kept me alive. I have lived with this country as intimately as is humanly possible and I feel that I am part of it now and it is part of me.
Work has offered me time off whenever I need it, but I still have to wait on clearance from the police and the legal teams before I can leave the country. I won’t get that until a date is finally set for Matthew Pentecost to go to trial.
When that time comes I know what I will do. I’m going to take extended leave and fly to Nederland to explore the place my parents thought of as Home. I might even visit Tante Leni in England and see if she has the answers to some of my questions about my mother.
Then I plan to visit Canada and have a long, long talk with my brother Abel, the kind of talk we have never really had.
And then I’ll come home.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
The island in this book does not exist. If it did exist, it would be located in Corner Inlet off the coast of South Gippsland, Victoria, somewhere between Port Welshpool and Port Albert.
Professor Atkinson is also a figment of the author’s imagination, although I think a copy of his guide should be in everyone’s backpack.
READING GROUP QUESTIONS
1.What is your first impression of Alix? Does this change at all as the story progresses?
2.Does the fact that the novel is set on a remote island have any impact on how the story plays out? Would this story have worked in another setting?
3.Dave develops an unhealthy obsession with Alix, becoming her stalker. Were there any signs of Dave’s obsession early on in the book, or in the beginning of Dave and Alix’s relationship?
4.‘Some elements of the media, mainly gossip magazines and commercial current affairs shows, tried to make it into a romantic story, calling him “the Jailbird Casanova”, but the more reputable media outlets described him as what he was, a stalker.’ Does this passage about how stalking can be viewed by others ring true? Is there a fine line between romance and something more sinister?
5.‘One in five Australian women have experienced stalking in their lifetime.’ Does this statistic surprise you? Given its prevalence, does the media give stalking enough attention?
6.It is clear that Alix learns a lot about survival from her time on the island. Does she learn any other lessons about her own life over the course of this journey?
7.Alix has had an unusual upbringing. How do you think her childhood experiences, such as living in Madagascar or being brought up by her puritanical father, influenced her personality and the ways in which she dealt with her ordeal on the island?
8.Alix suffers from a lot of trauma connected with her parents’ death. How does this manifest throughout the book?
9.Alix has plenty of time to reflect on her relationships with the significant people in her life. Does anything change in her mental attitude to her friend Kathryn? Or her opinion regarding Lana?
10.How does this time of reflection affect Alix’s attitude to her failed marriage?
11.How does this time of reflection affect Alix’s feelings towards her family, in particular her brother?
12.What scene did you most enjoy in this story, and why?
13.Were there any surprises along the way?
14.Does the story reach a satisfactory conclusion?
15.Did you find the book’s world believable?
16.What part, if any, do the epigraphs at the head of each chapter play in Beware of Dogs?
17.What feelings did this book evoke for you?
18.Are there any passages of text you found particularly appealing?
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
My deepest thanks are due to the people who have supported me from the moment this book came to me one night in a dream. First and most heartfelt thanks to my daughter, Christina Flann, who has been my reader, most dedicated supporter and most eagle-eyed critic throughout its gestation, and to Niels Bijl for his assistance with old and new secrets of the Dutch language.
I have also greatly appreciated the support of my writing companions, Richenda Rudman and Melanie Hayes, so huge thanks to them and also to Vikki Petraitis, who introduced us and taught us so many tricks of the trade.
I am deeply grateful to HarperCollins Publishers for making this book possible by awarding me The Banjo Prize for Australian fiction for 2019, to publisher Anna Valdinger and editor Rachel Dennis, who have done everything possible to ease the passage of Beware of Dogs towards publication, and to Lucy Inglis and Georgia Williams, who looked after the marketing and publicity.
Sincere thanks to all the people who helped by sharing their expertise, reading text, checking facts or just being supportive: in particular Freya Headlam, Sheila Drummond, Amanda Tokar, Meg Warren, Hilary Ash, Charles Meredith, Kay Hart and John Wallace. Thanks also to Dr Steve Sinclair, who very beautifully visualised the map Alix might have drawn in her field diary.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ELIZABETH FLANN worked in the publishing industry in both the UK and Australia. She then moved into academic teaching of writing and literature, completing her PhD on cultural myths in Australian film in 2001. She is a co-author of The Australian Editing Handbook and was a director and non-fiction writer for Sugar and Snails Press. Elizabeth lives by the sea in south-eastern Victoria.
COPYRIGHT
HarperCollinsPublishers
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First published in Australia in 2021
by HarperCollinsPublishers Australia Pty Limited
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harpercollins.com.au
Copyright © Elizabeth Flann 2021
The right of Elizabeth Flann to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright Amendme
nt (Moral Rights) Act 2000.
This work is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
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Map illustration by Dr Steve Sinclair
Beware of Dogs Page 21
