I shrugged. ‘Eating moths?’
‘Eeew. Really?’ We watched for another minute, but still no movement. Devon let out a big sigh, like he was bored already. ‘How long does this go for?’ He put his big thumb over the date part of the date and time stamp in the top right-hand corner, leaving the time showing 04:05:52.
‘What time was the blast?’ he asked.
‘4:21 a.m.,’ I said. ‘How about I fast-forward it?’
‘Yes,’ Devon said, a little too loud. Hornblower stopped snoring. I hit pause and we watched until he settled back into his noisy mouth-breathing.
I pressed fast-forward. Still no movement on the bridge; the clock sped past 04:20:00.
‘No cars, no cars, no cars,’ Devon repeated.
Suddenly the blur of a vehicle.
‘Stop,’ Devon said as I hit pause. 04:20:42. Frozen on the bridge after the arch was a police car, its siren lights a bright flare.
‘Detective Sergeant Graham?’ I said.
He nodded and I hit play. We sat in silence and watched as the police car sped off the bridge in the direction of the town hall, its lights flashing. It turned the corner and disappeared. Less than a minute later the screen flashed white with the explosion.
Devon sat still and said quietly, ‘I can still smell the smoke.’ Then we both started crying.
When we finally stopped crying, I wiped my eyes on Hornblower’s blanket then instantly regretted it. The musty smell stuck to my wet cheeks. I popped up and got a clean towel and quickly ran it under the tap to dampen it like Mum did. I shared it with Devon and we wash-dried our faces.
After letting out a big shuddery breath I felt slightly better. ‘I’m so sorry you went through that.’
‘It’s her I feel sorry for,’ Devon said. ‘I just rabbited on to her about you and Pike …’ He made a choking sound.
I put my arm through his. ‘It was good you were there.’
He gave me a sad smile. ‘And your mum, too.’
My chest felt tight. I was so angry with her that I didn’t want to think about it. I patted his hand. ‘Ready for the next one?’
‘Tippy … I don’t know if we—’
I double-clicked the next file. It took a second for me to realise where the cameras were: it was Mum’s work. The screen was split into two security cameras covering both exits. I pulled up my knees and hugged them. Last time I had watched a security video from Riverstone Medical Centre it had not worked out well for the Nancys, with us accusing an innocent person of murder. The top half of the screen covered the front entrance, from the foyer’s automatic doors to the small carpark and footpath along Main Street. The bottom half covered the hallway and exit at the other side of the building. So far there had been no movement on either screen.
Devon hit fast-forward. At 04:21:36 the building shook. It was set back from the street, shielding it from the blast. The windows bulged but didn’t break. In the carpark, a car’s tail-lights began flashing. ‘Must be its alarm,’ I said to Devon, then a massive chunk of concrete fell on its windscreen, smashing it. People appeared by the automatic doors, and I spotted Mum. She ran outside, then the video stopped.
I put my knees back down and took a deep breath. Thank God Mum’s safe.
Devon watched me. ‘I think that’s enough for tonight.’
It was full on, but I really wanted to see the other videos. ‘I’m okay,’ I said, crossing my arms. I didn’t want to stop and think about anything else.
He sighed beside me and shuffled around.
The third file was from Bigelow Jewellers, which was across the street from Mum’s work. On screen, the security camera had a wide view of Main Street from the footpath in front of the shop to the street and the footpath and shops on the other side. I pressed fast-forward. It was as if we were looking at a photo of the street with no movement at all. At 04:21:36 the screen flashed out.
I clicked on the last one, number four. This security camera was high on top of the corner of the pub. On screen was the town hall carpark, with the Riverstone Town Hall steps and entrance on the right. Nearby was the founding tree, and further in the distance the cinderblock public toilets in front of the floodbank. Running along the bottom edge of the screen was the footpath and Main Street. It was all so familiar. I watched its beautiful ordinariness, nothing happening in the middle of the night. I hit pause.
Beside me Devon said nothing. If I wanted to, I could pretend there had been no explosion, no one had died. A memory flashed through my head of Ms Everson running barefoot down this footpath, her high heels in her hands. I touched the screen and gently brushed my finger over the founding tree. If only hitting pause was all it took to keep everyone safe. To give me time to go back and warn them, to save them all. I pushed my shoulders back and pressed play again. In the top right-hand corner, the video’s digital clock raced towards Riverstone’s destruction.
My scalp prickled. ‘This is the film they showed on the news,’ I said. ‘It’s the same angle.’
Devon played with his lips and nodded.
‘But we didn’t see this part.’ I turned to Devon. ‘They’ve only shown the explosion. The public haven’t seen this.’
He sat up. ‘These are new clues?’
I nodded.
At 04:18:07 a white van with Mr Tulips written on the side fanged around the corner of the pub and shot across Main Street and into the carpark. Brake lights glowed as it slowed right down, then the wild weaving started. I thought about what Melanie had said. The van parked diagonally, its butt at the edge of the screen, pointing towards Henderson Lawyers. No way.
‘Do you think the security camera’s been moved?’
‘Huh?’ Devon didn’t look up from the tablet.
I pulled on his sleeve until he looked at me. ‘Doesn’t it seem weird that the van has parked right at the edge? Shouldn’t the camera cover the whole carpark, all the way to Henderson Lawyers?’ I pointed to the other side of the screen, which showed Main Street up to the corner before the bridge.
Devon jiggled his leg harder. ‘Um, maybe?’ he said, like it was a test.
On screen, the driver’s door opened. We watched, waiting, but no one got out of the van. I glanced up at Devon who frowned. The video timer seconds ticked by until nearly a minute had passed before Mr Tulips stumbled out. He wove towards the town hall and up its steps.
At 04:20:10 a dark-coloured car raced across Main Street and nearly hit the van. It stopped and the driver’s door flung open. A woman got out: Raewyn Dalrymple. She left the door open and ran to the van, checking inside. Her hands went to her mouth and it looked like she was shouting, but there was no sound on the video. Maybe she was calling for help? She searched behind the founding tree but stopped. Her head cocked, like maybe she’d heard something. Raewyn then raced up the town hall steps and inside.
The video timer reached 04:21:00. I held my breath.
On screen, the police car turned off Main Street, its lights flashing and arrived at the town hall. It pulled into the carpark by the toilets. Hornblower farted, but before we could say anything the van exploded. The video cut out, its final image completely white.
The house was silent except for the crackle and pop of the fire. A tear ran down my cheek. I brushed it away.
Devon put his arm around my shoulders. ‘Raewyn Dalrymple’s a hero,’ he said.
I didn’t want to think about how scared she must have been.
‘It isn’t fair,’ I said. ‘She was just trying to help. DS Graham was just doing her job, trying to keep us all safe.’ Instead of feeling angry, I felt sad and very, very tired. I rubbed my wrist. ‘And Raewyn’s husband is so sad that he tried to kill himself.’ Like Dad. The memory of Mum crushing my hand. She was trying to warn me then. Do not be like him. Never do what he did.
We leaned back and Hornblower groaned, making us sit up again. The news had edited out everyone but Mr Tulips. Why? There must be a reason. I needed to ask Lorraine when I next saw her.
Devon stood up. He went outside for a rollie and I followed. We hung out not saying much. I stared up at the stars in a clear patch of cold night sky. This week everything had changed but them.
Back inside, I made us both a cup of Milo and we settled onto the couch. Hornblower had turned on his side again, facing away from us. After that we didn’t stay up long. I had a quick shower to warm up before heading to bed. Even with the pot-belly door open the fire did little to keep the house warm.
At around midnight I was woken up by voices from the living room. It took me a while to realise it wasn’t Devon and Uncle Pike. A pang hit me thinking about them being broken up. They had to get back together. And if they didn’t? How long before Devon forgets me? I lay in my orange-lit room and strained to hear but couldn’t make out any words, only low male rumbling.
The tip of my nose felt cold. I grabbed my brown woolly jersey off the floor then crept to my door, opening it as quietly as I could. Hornblower sat on the couch and Devon was across from him on the chair.
Devon lifted up a half full bottle of tequila. ‘Then he told me we couldn’t have kids, that I was a gold digger and he dumped me.’ He sculled it.
That wasn’t quite as I remembered it.
‘Pickles is such an arse-hat,’ Hornblower said. ‘His whole thing about letting someone in. Risking being hurt.’
Devon swallowed and coughed. ‘Sure you aren’t talking about yourself?’
‘Whoa! Maria has become the Baroness.’ Hornblower reached for the bottle.
‘Haven’t you had enough?’ Devon said.
Hornblower snorted. ‘Clearly not.’ Strangely, he sounded more sober than before. He leaned forward and snatched the bottle and settled back into the couch. ‘You know he dumped me without a word? I was about the same age as you when it happened.’ He took another swig.
‘I thought you were in high school?’ Devon said.
‘Exactly.’ He drank for longer this time, until Devon snatched the bottle off him. Hornblower swallowed and let out a big ‘Ahhh’.
Devon leaned back and started peeling the label off the bottle.
Hornblower continued, ‘You know Pike would always point at the hills on the way out of town and tell me one day we would walk out of here. Go in a straight line and see where it took us.’ Hornblower chuckled. ‘Well, she sure did that.’ He reached out for the tequila and waggled his fingers at Devon. ‘Gimme.’
Devon took a swig then passed it back. He grimaced as he swallowed. ‘Whoa!’ He pounded his chest.
Hornblower pointed the bottle at Devon. ‘Can’t blame him for not wanting kids. Those parents of his. Wasn’t easy.’ Grandad and Grandma? I wondered what Hornblower meant. They died when I was little. Mum and Uncle Pike never really talked about them. Devon went to say something but Hornblower spoke over him.
‘Anyway, you were different. Never seen him get that close. Besides me of course.’ Hornblower drank the booze like it was water. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll deny all of this in the morning.’ He passed the bottle back. ‘Anyway, what’s wrong with being a gold digger?’
‘Why are you still here?’ Devon asked. The room was quiet. Hornblower had come down the Bully’s steps. Was he meeting with Lorraine?
Hornblower laughed to himself. ‘We have a memorial to go to. That, and Mother dying today.’
I gripped the door handle harder. Devon opened his mouth to speak but Hornblower waved him away. ‘You think Pike would be interested? You know, now he’s single?’
Devon spluttered. ‘What?’
‘What?’ Hornblower snatched the bottle off him. ‘Too soon?’
Devon chucked a cushion at him and laughed. He got up and sat beside Hornblower on the couch. He put his arm around his shoulder. Hornblower didn’t move. ‘I’m so sorry,’ Devon said.
I shut my door and went back to bed. Hornblower’s mum had died. No wonder he was so drunk. I knew what losing a parent was like, and from what Mrs Brown had told me, Hornblower’s mum was also his best friend. I actually felt sorry for him.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The next morning when I woke up I switched on my phone. Twenty-three missed calls and texts from Mum. The day before rushed back in. The news about Dad, the fights with Mum and Uncle Pike, Devon … I groaned. I wanted to turn the phone off again. I didn’t mean it. Well, not all of it.
My body ached from all that stupid brick throwing and my chest felt sore. I rubbed it, feeling sorry for myself. I hoped Hornblower had left. His mum. I felt for him, but I couldn’t deal with Hornblower right now. Last night, the footage and the note. I teared up again thinking about the bombing and the people who died. Who could hate that much?
I got up and blew my nose. Grabbing my towel, I peeked out my door—no Hornblower, a good start. The living room smelled even funkier of musty carpet, alcohol fumes and farts. I opened the door to the balcony and let in some fresh freezing air. The last of the snow had gone, the rain overnight dissolving it, and the wet garden was back to its creepy rotting mess.
In the shower, I looked at the shampoo Uncle Pike had given me. A sudden surge of rage fired through me. How could he lie to me like that? What else did he lie about? I grabbed the bottle with both hands and squeezed it down the drain. What the fuck had they all been thinking? What the fuck had Dad—I threw the plastic bottle out the window, not caring about being a tidy Kiwi. A kiwi could choke to death on it in that horrible garden for all I cared.
After my shower, I brushed my teeth and felt less angry. I tapped on Devon’s door, yelling that the bathroom was free, and got dressed. I sat on my bed and wondered what to text Mum. In the end I sent I’m OK, and put the phone face down. I waited for as long as I could before going to wake Devon up. Today was Sunday, 24 April. We needed to find out about that security camera and if it had been moved. Uncle Pike had to watch the videos and see the note as well. I wasn’t sure how we could stay the Nancys when the group wasn’t talking to each other properly, but I would figure that out later. First, I needed Devon to get up.
I played ‘Ironic’ on the CD player as loud as it would go. I waited on the couch, a headache forming. The memory of Lorraine saying I had copied her haircut flashed in my mind and I yanked on my beanie. Fuck my hair and fuck my life.
I knocked on Devon’s bedroom door again, harder this time. ‘Good morning!’ I called out. Still no response, so I really thumped on it and the door swung inwards.
My mouth dropped open and I gasped.
Lying in bed beside a sleeping naked Devon was Hornblower. He stared at me, extra pale faced and red-eyed. ‘Ugh,’ he said. ‘Just when you think it can’t get worse.’ He rubbed his head.
I didn’t know what to say. My mouth stayed open.
‘How about you fan-girl somewhere else?’ He groaned as he sat up, the noise reminding me of Uncle Pike. Shit. Uncle Pike … Hornblower hung his head, holding it in his hands. ‘Owwww! Pain killers. STAT.’
I stood shocked. Was he Devon’s new boyfriend?
Hornblower looked up at me, his nose red like he might cry any minute. ‘Now!’ He picked up a nearby coffee mug and threw it at me, but it was a pathetic throw and ended up thudding onto the carpet.
I glared at him and crossed my arms.
‘Please?’ he hissed then winced in pain again.
‘Fine.’ I needed time to think anyway and Devon wasn’t waking up. I left them and grabbed some Panadol and a glass of water from the kitchen. My tummy knotted. This was not good. I went back and reluctantly handed them to Hornblower.
He snatched the glass from me, popped the pills then sculled back the water. ‘Ahhh, thank you,’ he croaked.
‘I’m sorry about your mum,’ I said, before realising I had overheard it.
His eyes widened then he frowned. ‘How—?’ He held the glass to his forehead.
‘You told us last night,’ I lied.
Hornblower shook his head then winced. ‘Don’t remember. Must have been really drunk to tell you.’ He shoved the empty glass back at me
then waved me away.
I felt my top lip curl. ‘Really?’ I said to him. He shut his eyes, ignoring me. So rude. I shut the bedroom door, not quite slamming it. After washing my hands I made myself some breakfast. I had no idea what any of this meant now. What did Devon see in him? Yuck. I thought we hated him.
Hornblower came out into the lounge with a towel around him. His thin body looked like the boys in my class compared to Uncle Pike and Devon. I paused eating my cereal and pointed to the bathroom door.
‘I need to wash my biscuits,’ he said, and shuffled in.
I put my spoon down, suddenly not hungry anymore. ‘So gross,’ I muttered and got up to check on Devon again. He hadn’t moved. I shook him and he mumbled something, but didn’t open his eyes. I licked my palm then slapped his arm really hard, making a loud noise.
Devon bolted upright in bed, and at the same time his hand grabbed my wrist like a snake striking. ‘What the hell, Tippy?’
‘What the hell you, Sissy?’ I said.
Through the wall next to the bathroom came the muffled sounds of the shower and Hornblower spewing. ‘He is so gross,’ I said. ‘What about Uncle—’
‘Hello?’ my uncle boomed out from the next room.
Devon looked alarmed and let go of my hand. We stared at each other, frozen.
‘I’ll try to get rid of him,’ I whispered.
Shit. Uncle Pike stood in the kitchen. I felt a pang in my gut thinking about Hornblower and Devon. My uncle studied my face and frowned.
I put on a smile. ‘Morning.’
He cocked an eyebrow. ‘What’s going on, Tippy Chan?’
‘Nothing,’ I said. ‘What’s up with you?’
Uncle Pike came and gave me a hug. I stood there with my arms at my sides, not hugging him back. He heard the shower running and headed towards the bathroom door. ‘How long’s she been in there?’
‘Umm.’
My uncle knocked on the bathroom door. ‘Can we talk?’
The shower taps turned off as Devon opened the bedroom door in his dressing gown. ‘What?’ he said.
Uncle Pike stood there blinking. ‘What?’
Nancy Business Page 19
