by John Marrs
I begged my face not to redden or my hands to start shaking. I didn’t want to show any signs of weakness. Inside, I couldn’t stop my pulse from breaking new speed records. I knew my eyes were open wide but I couldn’t take them off him, not even for a second.
Maybe I was wrong; maybe I was imagining this. Perhaps my brain was playing tricks on me again, like all those so-called experts told me it did. Perhaps I was only seeing and hearing what I wanted to hear. I stared at him so intently my eyes hurt.
‘How are Effie’s grades?’ Tony began. ‘Have they seen any improvement?’
‘I’m afraid there’s not been much difference on that front,’ Ryan replied. ‘She’s maintaining steady Cs in English and art, but in history, sociology and geography, her marks are quite erratic.’
Yes, it was Steven. I was one hundred per cent sure of that. Steven, Ryan, Steven . . . it didn’t matter what he called himself. It was still him.
Four months after I should have witnessed his body swinging from the rafters of his bedroom, there he was, smiling at Tony as if he didn’t have a care in the world. This was not a coincidence, I was certain of that. He’d been lying low, biding his time and waiting for the right moment. Now I understood why I’d suddenly started receiving school emails about Effie. Ryan had wanted me here and I’d handed myself to him on a plate. It was the second time I’d let down my guard and he’d taken advantage.
He’d convinced Tony he had a genuine interest in Effie’s well-being. But both he and I knew he was playing a game. What was it? And why involve my daughter?
Now I could see him in daylight and not the gloom of his bedroom, he was an unassuming, boy-next-door type. His eyes were a deep brown but the whites that surrounded them were pinkish, like he wasn’t getting enough sleep. His dark-blond temples were flecked with grey and his skin was pale. It was as if he’d remained boyish well into his twenties but now circumstances had forced him into adulthood and his body was only just starting to catch up.
Half of me wanted to claw at Ryan’s face with my nails like an animal, while the other half wanted to run a mile and pretend none of this was happening. Instead, I remained glued to my chair, unable to move an inch.
‘It’s like she no longer cares how she does,’ Ryan continued. ‘How have you found her behaviour at home, Mr Morris?’ The concern in his voice sounded staged and it didn’t match his expression. It was as if he were trying his best not to laugh.
Tony used words like ‘quiet’ and ‘insular’ to describe Effie, but to my ears it was like he was talking about another girl. It wasn’t the daughter I knew, the girl I had loved as best I could. Had I allowed too much distance to come between us?
Suddenly Ryan turned to me. Chills ran through me. ‘Have you considered there might be other issues that Effie might be facing, Mrs Morris?’
I opened my mouth but little came out, so I cleared my dry throat. ‘Such as?’
‘I don’t know, I’m not a therapist, but there can be many psychological issues that influence the way a teenage girl behaves these days. She’s mentioned to me the other girls in her class have bullied her because of her weight.’
‘Her weight?’ Tony replied defensively. ‘She’s not fat!’
‘No, I’m not saying for one minute that she is. But if she thinks she might be, and if she hears it enough from other girls, then it might influence her thinking. Eating disorders and self-confidence problems are so common, and more than one in three teenage girls suffer from anxiety and mental health issues.’ I watched as Ryan’s fists clenched ever-so-slightly and he shifted his eyes towards mine. ‘There’s a reason they call depression a silent killer.’
I didn’t know what he was insinuating, but whatever it was between us, it was definitely personal.
‘My daughter isn’t an anorexic nor is she depressed,’ Tony replied.
‘Hormones and chemical changes in their brains can give them feelings of inadequacy, loss of interest in their surroundings, their work and their friends,’ Ryan continued like he was reading from a book. ‘They become trapped in cycles of self-pity. It’s my job as her teacher to make you aware of this and to be there for her in whatever capacity she wants me to be.’
‘Cycles of self-pity’? ‘Whatever capacity she wants me . . .’? He’s using my own words from our conversations against me!
‘Look, I might be wrong,’ he added. ‘All I’m saying is that when it comes to people, no matter how much you think you know them, you can never predict what goes on in their heads, even your own kids. They can be influenced to do things they shouldn’t by the unlikeliest of people. People who kids think they can trust can talk them into actions that have a catastrophic effect on their future. Do you know what I mean, Mrs Morris?’
I didn’t, but I knew he was directing his words at me. He’d said something to Effie, but what?
‘And you think that she’s susceptible to this kind of manipulation?’ Tony asked.
‘You might be surprised at what Effie is capable of.’
‘Like what?’ I asked.
Ryan was talking in riddles and waiting for me to figure out what he meant.
‘I don’t know,’ he replied. ‘All I can tell you is that when I left her at lunchtime, she wasn’t herself. She seemed quite distressed, but she wouldn’t tell me what it was about. I made her promise to talk to you, Mrs Morris, when she got home.’
The meeting drew to a close and Mr Atkinson saw us out of his office and back to the reception area. Suddenly Tony’s phone began to ring and he glanced at the number. ‘Sorry, could you excuse me for a moment?’ he asked, leaving Ryan and me alone for the first time. My stomach churned and I wanted to be sick.
‘What do you want from me?’ I asked quietly. ‘What have you said to my daughter?’
Ryan’s grin disappeared and he leaned in to whisper in my ear.
‘If I were you, I’d go home and check on Effie as soon as you can. Because I’d hate to think what she might have done after I finished with her this afternoon.’
CHAPTER SIX
RYAN
Even when I wasn’t looking at Laura, I could feel her staring at me. Effie had shared the same deep, penetrating gaze.
Effie’s eyes had been fixed on me while I monitored a lunchtime detention before I was to meet with her parents. Her gym teacher had given it to Effie for threatening another girl. Six other students from Years 10 and 11 joined her for various other offences. I wondered if Effie had deliberately caused trouble because she knew it was my turn to take detention.
They kept their heads down, using the opportunity to begin their homework. Effie, however, didn’t even try to pretend to read the textbook she held. She was focused on me at my desk. Her number of friends had dwindled over the past few months. I’d devoted more attention to her, always treating her like an adult and listening to her complaints. I knew exactly where she thought our relationship was going. I could have nipped it in the bud at any point, but that wasn’t part of the plan.
Finally, their hour of punishment complete, the others hurried from the classroom. But Effie deliberately took her time packing her bag and putting on her coat. Then she waited until we were alone before she made her way to the window. She fiddled absent-mindedly with a bauble on the class Christmas tree.
‘It’s raining outside,’ she began.
‘I can see.’
‘I’ve got free study periods all afternoon and was going to go home but I don’t have an umbrella.’
‘And?’
‘And I’m going to get soaked if I can’t get a lift home.’
‘A bit of rain isn’t going to kill you.’
‘But if I catch a cold, I could have an asthma attack and that could kill me.’
‘I’m sure you’ll be fine.’
‘Could you give me a lift, sir? You haven’t got a lesson for another hour and a half, have you?’
‘Are you memorising my timetable, Effie?’
‘No, sir, I was just showing an i
nterest like you do in me. So you have plenty of time to take me home and come back for it.’
‘Offering a student a ride is against the school rules.’
‘I won’t tell anyone.’
‘That doesn’t matter.’
‘Honestly, I won’t. I promise.’
‘Effie, there are boundaries that we need to maintain. You’re my student and I’m your teacher.’
‘Is that all I am to you, sir?’
I paused for a moment; I needed to think. I’d put a lot of time and effort into getting to this place, but now I’d arrived, I was second-guessing myself. What would Laura do? I asked myself. Laura would do whatever was necessary to get what she wanted. And that meant I had to do the same.
‘Meet me on the corner of Simpson Avenue and Talbot Road in ten minutes,’ I replied apprehensively. ‘There’s a bus shelter there. I’ll pick you up.’
Effie brushed my arm with her hand as she passed me, trying hard to hide her grin. I had to remind myself that this was a girl who’d bullied her classmates and got away with it. She was a manipulative little bitch, someone who was used to getting what she wanted, only she was too naive to realise she wasn’t in control of this situation.
She was exactly where I told her to be when my car pulled over to the side of the road. I checked all around me to make sure that no one had spotted us. As she climbed inside, I noted she’d put eyeliner on to frame her eyes and she’d made her lips more inviting with pink gloss. Her hair glistened from the drizzle outside and she ran her fingers through it.
‘Hurry up and put your seatbelt on,’ I urged. ‘We need to go.’
‘It’s stuck,’ she replied, and struggled to fit it into the latch. I grabbed it and she held on to my finger while I slotted it inside.
‘Who’s that?’ she asked, pointing to a screensaver picture on my phone. It was recharging in the centre console.
‘It’s my brother Johnny,’ I replied.
‘He’s fit. You look alike.’
I watched from the corner of my eye as she tapped her foot to the music coming from the radio. She looked puzzled when we eventually pulled up a few doors away from her home.
‘I thought we could go to yours for while?’ she asked, her head tilted slightly to one side.
‘You know I have to get back.’
‘Then, another time?’ She placed her hand just above my knee.
‘Effie . . .’ I began.
‘Shhh,’ she replied, and her hand made its way further up my thigh and stopped centimetres from my groin.
‘Effie, I’m your teacher.’
‘Not here, you’re not.’
‘I am. Here, at school, everywhere.’
‘I’m not going to tell anyone.’
She twisted her body and moved her face towards mine. I felt her warm breath on my neck and ear. I could smell her sweet perfume. She paused as our eyes locked.
‘There’s something I need you to know first,’ I said.
‘What’s that?’
‘I need you to know I would never go near you in a million years. If you really believe that I’m interested in you, Effie, you’re more stupid than your grades would suggest.’
She paused, then scowled, trying to make sense of what she’d just heard. Her head moved backwards and her hand left my leg.
‘What?’
‘You heard me correctly. I’m not attracted to you, Effie. You’re an attention-seeking, immature little girl who picks on others and makes their lives hell. Now you know how they felt to be belittled and rejected. If you think I could be attracted to someone like you, then you’re an idiot. Now get out of my car.’
Her face crumpled, and for a moment I hated myself for what I’d just told a kid. I’d never hurt anyone like I’d just hurt Effie. But it had been a horrible necessity. She threw open the car door and ran out into the rain, along the street and out of sight.
Four hours later and it was her mother’s turn to know how it felt to be played. She had manipulated my wife for her own gain, and I had done the same to her daughter. As my Granddad Pete had advised, an eye for an eye.
CHAPTER SEVEN
LAURA
‘Where’s Effie?’ I asked Tony. ‘Right now, where is she?’
I’d left Ryan and found my husband at the double doors of the entrance, returning his phone to his jacket pocket.
The panic created by Ryan’s warning was rising from deep inside my gut, up my chest and into my throat, almost strangling my words. The last time I’d felt like this, I was standing in his house with a knife in my hand, facing a man who was about to kill me. Now the same man had found a way to make me feel like that all over again, only this time he was threatening my daughter’s safety to frighten me.
‘Effie’s at home,’ Tony replied.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is she alone?’
‘No, she’s babysitting Alice.’ He sounded hesitant.
‘I want to see her.’
Tony shook his head. ‘We talked about this, Laura, I don’t think it’s a good idea.’
‘She’s my daughter,’ I said through gritted teeth. ‘They are both my daughters. I need to see them tonight.’
‘We agreed that you wouldn’t visit the girls until they were old enough to make their own decisions.’ I glared at him as fragments of an argument from long ago flashed through my head. ‘Do you remember?’ he asked.
‘Yes, of course I do,’ I replied, but in truth, a fog was descending from nowhere and everything was becoming muddled. ‘But I need to go home and make sure they’re okay. Please, Tony, just take me home.’
Acknowledging my angst, he took my hand in his and spoke softly. ‘Laura, none of us have lived at home with you for almost two years now, have we? We live elsewhere, you know that. You remember why we moved out, don’t you?’
I yanked my hand away and vaguely recalled my husband driving me home from hospital after the operation to remove my cancer, and the house feeling stark and silent. I could see myself drifting along the corridor from bedroom to bedroom searching for the children, and Tony informing me they wouldn’t be coming home for a while. But I couldn’t remember why. In fact, the only thing I knew for sure was that most nights since I’d cooked us all a meal, when no one turned up to eat it I’d put it into a freezer drawer until there was no room left. Then I’d toss them away and start from scratch again.
My temples began to flutter in rhythm with my erratic heartbeat. But in all the confusion I had to remain focused. I had to see my daughter. I had to know that Effie was okay.
‘How much longer must I wait before I can see them?’ My voice was growing louder. ‘Five minutes with them, that’s all I’m asking for. Just to put my mind at ease.’
Tony frowned, and scanned the area as a bell sounded to mark the end of the day and pupils hurried towards the doors to leave. ‘Laura, you need to calm down before you start drawing attention to yourself.’
‘Let them look, I don’t care.’
He marched me towards an empty room off the corridor. Pupils’ drawings and paintings were pinned to the walls. It reminded me of how much I enjoyed painting with Alice; she had a natural aptitude for it. Or was it Effie? I couldn’t be sure. Everything was becoming too confusing.
‘Call it instinct or mother’s intuition, but I know when my baby’s in trouble,’ I continued, ‘and look what’s been happening since you kept me away from her. Are you trying to tell me that it’s a coincidence her education is falling to pieces?’
‘And are you not going to take any responsibility for this? Do you need me to spell it out why they’re not with you anymore?’
I did, because I couldn’t make the pieces fit together. An image of myself lying in a hospital bed, then one of Henry in the residential care home came to mind. But I didn’t know if I was imagining it or if it had actually happened, and something told me it would do me no favours to ask. One memory was crystal clear, though.
‘If you don’t let me see the girls this afternoon, then first thing tomorrow morning I’ll take the documents I have to the police that prove what we did to get the business up and running.’ His face paled. ‘I have every account number, statement and transaction stored at home. Don’t make me do that, Tony.’
Deep breaths, Laura, deep breaths. Think of your anchor; he will calm you down.
‘Something I can’t explain is telling me that we need to leave here and find Effie,’ I continued. ‘You heard her teacher. What if Effie’s problems are a lot worse than you think? How would you live with yourself if she’s done something silly?’
‘Okay,’ he said reluctantly. ‘We’ll take my car.’
I don’t know if it was the threat I’d made or that he finally recognised my fear, but I got my way.
As we hurried across the car park I wondered who Tony was texting and why he was trying to hide it from me. I reasoned it must have been Effie and he didn’t want me to see her number.
‘Can you call her?’ I asked. And when he dialled from inside his car I made a mental note of the digits as they flashed across the stereo screen. There was no answer. He tried the landline, but that wasn’t picked up either.
‘Why isn’t she answering?’ I said anxiously. ‘What’s happened to her?’
‘You need to get a hold of yourself,’ Tony replied firmly. ‘You already know what the last memory the children have of you is. They don’t need to see you on their doorstep screaming like a mad woman.’
Again, I didn’t understand what he was referring to, but now wasn’t the time for questions. I was too busy trying not to yell at him to hurry up when he slowed for every amber light. He had no sense of urgency as he stuck to the suburban speed limits while we drove through the streets on the other side of town from the home where we’d all once lived together.
Eventually we pulled into the cul-de-sac of a new-build housing estate. He parked on the driveway of a contemporary home I’d never seen before with a landscaped front garden, large windows and closed curtains. Two lights were on upstairs. I steeled myself as he unlocked the door.
