Ana turns the corner and pulls up at the side of a park with a fenced-off playground. It’s just after nine so only the little kids are there, mostly with young mums but there are also a couple of dads. While she sits there listening to the ordinary babble of kids playing she fights the urge to shut her eyes. As expected she didn’t get much sleep last night again and she’s feeling it now. All it takes is for the sun to hit her for her to give up the fight. It’s not like she can do anything now anyway.
When she wakes, cold and hungry, the playground is empty and the sun has retreated behind clouds again. She can see a couple of people having lunch in the adjacent park. Ana figures it’s safe by now to return to the street but heads back on foot in case the cop noted her car.
As she turns the corner she’s relieved to see the surveillance car is gone but takes a seat at the bus stop on the other side of the road just in case. She loiters there, nervously chewing on a finger as she scopes out the house. Even with the cop gone what she’s about to do is risky. When no one comes or goes she starts across the street. An outdoor light switches on as she walks up the path. It throws her for a moment before she realises it must be on a sensor.
Trying to look like she belongs, Ana approaches the front door and knocks. There’s no answer and she’s not sure if she’s relieved or disappointed. A part of her was hoping to see her in the flesh, not that she knows what she’d say if she did.
Ana knocks again just to be sure and then does a final scan of the street before using Luke’s keys to enter.
*
Ana stops on the threshold of the living room while she pulls on a pair of woollen gloves and shuts the door behind her. The room is styled and has a woman’s touch. It even smells feminine, light and floral with a hint of citrus, nothing like the cheap perfume Kristy favours and the direct opposite of the more musky tones left on Rebecca’s scarf.
Despite the slightly self-conscious hand of the decorator, who she assumes would have been Carla, it looks comfortable, full of bright contemporary colours. The antithesis of the stark functionality of Ana’s house. She sees little evidence of a man living there, let alone a dog, but Ana gives a low whistle regardless.
You didn’t think there would actually be a dog here, did you?
Nothing comes to her but silence. She feels foolish now for having put liver treats in her pocket and more than a little disappointed. Both in Luke and in herself.
What were you going to do? Steal it and take it back with you? Then what? Live happily ever after?
If there was a dog, Ana imagines it would have been one of those fluffy poodle crosses that are all the rage now, the ones bred so as not to shed all over the furniture. Cute, in a generic mass-produced sort of way. Just like the house.
Ana crosses the space to the open plan kitchen. No bowls on the floor either.
He’s playing you, like he always has been.
There’s a fruit bowl on the bench and Ana takes a banana. She peels and eats it on the spot before wandering around the living room, on the hunt for signs of Luke, but this place – his home – is no more revealing of him than his wallet. She spots photographs on a sideboard and zeroes in on one of Carla and Luke’s wedding. This Luke is clean-cut and conservative, although his neck is free of a tie. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes but Carla looks exactly like a bride should. Like it’s the best day of her life. Her dress is extravagant but more elegant than frothy. Less princess bride, more Hollywood bohemian. Designed to give the impression she’s not trying too hard. She has taste, Ana recognises that much. She also has a hand clamped tightly on her new husband’s arm, perhaps already sensing him disappearing.
The thump of a car door propels Ana to the window but it’s just a neighbour heading out. As she returns her focus to the room she notices flickering light coming from the end of the hall. She feels the trigger response in her body that tells her to get out of there but she ignores the warning, passing first the bathroom, then a spare bedroom and a study as she closes in on the main bedroom.
Ana feels the change in the air before she hears the low sound of the heater pumping warmth into the room.
Block-out curtains are drawn tight against the day but Ana can see enough to spot Carla motionless on the bed, a sleeping mask obscuring her eyes, the discarded doona on the floor at the foot of the bed. An oil burner – the source of both the flickering light and the smell of flowers and citrus – sits on the bedside table, casting her face in silhouette. The smell is much stronger in here, cloyingly so. It makes Ana want to cough but she controls it.
She barely breathes as her gaze moves from Carla’s perfect profile all the way down her body to her manicured toes. Perfect except for the fact that she’s softly snoring. If it was Ana lying there she’d be wide awake now, would probably have sat bolt upright when the front door opened. Carla is either a very good sleeper or has had help. The packet of pills and the empty tumbler next to her indicate the latter.
Ana remains in the cover of the doorway but gives in to the urge to peer around. Like the rest of the house, the bedroom has been carefully crafted to create just the right impression. A room intended for more than sleeping. For making babies, if what Luke told her is true. She tries to slot him in there, stretched out on his side of the bed, but he just won’t fit. Not Luke as she knows him. There are way too many pillows. She might not know him very well yet but she’s sure he would hate that as much as she does.
Beyond the bed, one side of the built-in wardrobe is open and displays a neat line-up of women’s clothing. It reminds Ana of the racks in the high-end fashion shops in the middle of the city – colour-coded for visual appeal. On the floor in front of the dressing table is a messy pile of discarded clothes and shoes that tells a different, far less together, story. She almost feels sorry for her, it must be exhausting maintaining the façade.
The other side of the wardrobe is closed and Ana is certain she’d find something of Luke there. She’s pondering the likelihood of being able to get to it without being caught when the mobile phone by the bed rings.
Ana shrinks back into the hallway, intending to make her escape, but she’s stopped by Carla’s sleep-heavy voice.
‘Hello? … Who are you?’
Fear grabs at her even though she knows Carla’s not talking to her.
‘I haven’t done anything. Please, leave me alone.’
After that there’s silence and Ana assumes she’s hung up until she hears her voice again, her tone indicating she’s talking to someone new now.
‘It’s me … No, I’m fine, I’ve been sleeping … I know … I know that, Mum, can you just … Is Dad there? … I just wanted to ask him something … I need to get out of Hobart … They did but I don’t care, I can’t be here anymore … How, Mum? How could I possibly have known? … Then it’s just as well I never got fucking pregnant then, isn’t it! Mum, can you just put Dad on, please?’
There’s a long pause and Ana takes a few more steps towards the front door.
‘Hi … I’m okay, I just need to get out of here but, Dad, if I come home for a bit, you have to promise me something. Promise you won’t say I told you so. I won’t come unless … Thank you … No, it’s quicker if I just get in the car now and drive up … I will. I’ll see you in a few hours.’
Ana hears a soft clunk as Carla puts the phone down on the bedside table. She hears a drawer being opened and makes her move, quickly creeping her way towards the living room. She’s almost there when a floorboard creaks loudly under her foot.
‘Luke?’
Ana just manages to slip into the bathroom before Carla appears.
‘Is that you?’
Is that fear in her voice?
Ana watches through the crack in the door as Carla passes along the hall and disappears from view. She isn’t game to move but her senses are suddenly overwhelmed by the smell of Luke. She glances around trying to find the source but before she can locate it Carla is right there, leaning heavily on the door, trapping Ana
behind it.
Ana shrinks into the corner, hidden by a mess of things hanging on the hook above. She hears the shower and again seeks out the source of the smell but gets distracted by the sound of Carla crying.
Ana can see her through the cloudy glass of the shower screen, her head under the water. She knows this is her moment to get out while she still can, but she’s drawn in by the rawness of the grief she’s witnessing. She watches Carla’s silhouette behind the screen convulse with huge guttural sobs, sees her bang her hand hard against the tiles, as she tries to suppress it. Carla hunches over, crying out in pain, but then suddenly goes ballistic, screaming and lashing out at the surfaces around her.
Ana makes her move, stepping out from behind the door just as the glass of the shower screen shatters. The two women are suddenly face to face, both equally shocked.
‘Who the fuck are you?!’
Glass crunches under Ana’s shoes as she bolts out into the hallway. She runs for the front door but can’t open it. The fucking thing is deadlocked. She scrambles in her pocket for Luke’s keys, her hands clumsy in the gloves. She just gets it open when she hears Carla close behind her.
‘What are you doing in my house?’
Ana slams the door behind her and makes a mad dash into the street, diving for cover behind the neighbour’s hedge just before Carla appears on the stoop, wearing nothing but a towel.
Ana watches her limp down to the footpath, leaving spots of blood on the path behind her. When she reaches the road she looks both ways. Ana shrinks back but Carla’s eyes pass right over her position. She hears the door of the house behind her opening and takes off again. Carla doesn’t pursue her any further but her voice reaches out for Ana.
‘Who are you?!’
Ana stops at the corner, her body pumped full of adrenaline. She glances back to see Carla still standing there on the road outside her house. For a split second the two women stare at each other across the distance before Ana continues on to her car.
Who are you?
It’s a question Ana can’t let go of on her drive home.
A week ago she was a girl who loved her dog, a girl who wanted nothing more than to die with him. Or so she thought. She’s always been capable of doing the odd crazy thing but right now even she doesn’t know for sure who she is or what she could do.
Just how far can she let herself go? The fact that she doesn’t have an answer to that question scares her more than anything. Even more than how quickly Carla seems to have accepted her husband’s guilt.
Now that the adrenaline of their encounter has eased the worry has been creeping in. Carla saw her face and even if she didn’t realise she had keys to her house at the time, she’s bound to work it out when she sees no sign of a breakin.
One thing is for sure, she would have called the cops the minute she stepped back inside. No doubt they’ll pick it up and run with it as the break they’ve been waiting for. She’ll be cast as the mystery woman connected to Luke Mullen and will be another ‘person of interest’ the police will be searching for. She wouldn’t be worried about that if not for one particular officer’s personal knowledge of her.
It’s the little mistakes people make that get them caught – another thing Ana learned from her years of watching endless crime TV. The further she goes into this thing the more chances there are for mistakes and the more she acts, feels, and looks, like a criminal.
But as Luke keeps reminding her, not a very good one.
Time passed in a blur as he stumbled like a beast through the wilderness that was his new home. He had no idea how many hours he’d been out there, or how few, the day just as dark and cold as the night. Wasted and crazy with loss, it’s a miracle he didn’t hurt himself.
He knew he’d never see her again and her absence tore at his insides, leaving a gaping bloody hole. He couldn’t remember her leaving. Was tortured by the thought that she’d gone back for good this time, as she had warned him she would. The kids – her need for them – he could understand. But him? He would never understand her going back to him.
He crawled into the bed he’d made for them and thought about making him disappear. Her husband. He knew he could do it, whether he deserved it or not didn’t matter. He could do it for her. He was going over all the ways he knew how when the pills he’d washed back with the bourbon started to work.
Her scarf, still smelling of her skin, the only thing she had left behind, clutched tightly in his hand.
THIRTY-EIGHT
On her way out that morning Ana had retrieved the tray from the basement before removing the fan and once again closing the door. She also made sure the monitor was switched off, just in case any unwelcome visitors turned up while she was gone. Luke didn’t make a peep so she assumed he was still asleep, perhaps drugged up on all that fresh garage air. He’ll be awake now and wondering where she is but Ana decides to leave it that way when she re-enters the house – she’s not yet ready to have him invade her head again. Not that the monitor needs to be switched on for that to happen. All she has to do is walk across her kitchen floor and he’s right there.
As she dumps a shopping bag down on the bench her eye is drawn to the flashing light of the answer machine and she immediately stiffens. Ten missed calls. Never in her life has that happened. One sometimes, very occasionally two. She has to remind herself that it’s not even an hour since she left Carla’s. Far too soon for anyone to be after her yet. Whoever it is they’ll have to wait.
She slips his keys into the back of the kitchen drawer for now. She should probably take a walk later and throw them in the river like she did his phone, along with anything else that could incriminate her, including the bag of pills she worked so hard to get. She can’t let go of them just yet though, not until she’s let go of him. She pulls them out now and places them on the bench.
River has been following her around since she came in and as he nudges her pocket she suddenly realises why. He smells the liver treats and naturally assumes they’re for him. Ana cups them in her hand and he surprises her by eating every last bit.
The day is getting on and Luke will be hungry too but she doesn’t want to feed him yet, not until it’s closer to nightfall. She worries about that as well. He was the one who pointed out that if this thing blows up in her face – in fact he said ‘when’ – she’ll want to be able to say she treated him humanely. That means not letting him go hungry, amongst other things, but there’s not much she can do about that now. Hopefully by tomorrow morning there will be nothing left to blow up in her face. The only thing she’ll have to worry about then is River and making the most of the time he has left. Whatever comes after that, she’ll just have to see.
Ana pulls a litre bottle of chocolate milk from her shopping. She considered buying a smaller bottle but thought that would look more suspicious. Spiked milk for one! She’s taking a chance that he won’t notice the seal is broken but she couldn’t think of a better way to do it. She’s winging it a bit but will do what she can to make it look right. Hopefully he won’t look too closely.
She slips two pills out of the bag but then reconsiders. Two was plenty when he was in a weakened state, but now? There’s also no guarantee he’ll drink the whole bottle. She goes back in for another two just to be sure before she checks the clock.
It’s four pm. Another couple of hours until nightfall. She has no choice but to wait.
*
It’s bang on five pm when Ana unlocks the basement. It’s still not dark but she can’t wait any longer. The sooner he’s unconscious the sooner she’ll be able to get him up the stairs and into the car. Then she’ll just have to wait until the roads are quiet. There’ll be no passenger seat for him this time. He’s going in the hatchback under River’s blanket.
Ana descends the stairs with her shopping bag containing bread rolls, a packet of tasty cheese slices, fruit and the bottle of milk. She stops halfway down, not expecting him to be out in the open again. He’s sitting on the concrete leanin
g back against the pillar to which he’s chained.
‘I’ve been wondering where you got to.’
Ana remains silent.
‘You closed the channel. Is there a reason for that?’
There’s something in his hand. She can’t see what it is and her mind once again jumps to his homemade shiv.
Stop staring. Say something!
‘You don’t have a dog.’
Luke raises his face to look at her now.
‘How would you know that?’
Ana maintains eye contact, trying not to show the concern that’s been growing in her the more time passes. Even now they could be trying to identify her, the police sketch artist working with Carla to get the features of the unknown female intruder just right.
‘I’ve been to your house.’
She watches the frown settle on his face.
‘That was stupid. Are you sure no one followed you back?’
Ana is completely thrown. She hadn’t considered the possibility of being followed. He’s right. That was stupid of her. The surveillance car may have been gone but what if there was a camera set up somewhere? What if she was seen?
Bit late to think about that now.
‘Even your wife thinks you did it.’
It’s a slight exaggeration. Ana has no idea what Carla thinks really, or what the intensity of her distress meant.
‘You spoke to my wife?’
‘Not exactly.’ Ana shifts awkwardly.
‘It doesn’t matter, Carla has no more idea of who I am than you do. She was only ever interested in what she could make of me.’
That doesn’t surprise Ana, having seen Carla for herself, but she is surprised at how much hearing it pleases her.
‘Ana, look at me.’
She meets his gaze.
‘I said I missed my dog. I never said I had one.’
Lonely Girl Page 24
