She noticed Janey Bayless holding her high-wedged heels in one hand, camera swinging around her neck, sashaying her way through the crowd. She stopped dramatically in front of them.
‘I didn’t know about this,’ she said, waving a hand and gesturing for them to move in closer. Tess hoped she wouldn’t say anything to her father but when Travis wrapped his tanned arms around her narrow body she stopped worrying. She could feel her entire spine pressed up against his chest.
‘Don’t know what you see in him, Tess, a good girl like you,’ said Janey as she looked at them through the camera’s viewfinder.
Travis laughed, and Tess could actually feel the bass of it reverberate through his body.
‘Now, don’t you put up with any of his rubbish,’ said Janey.
Travis acted with mock outrage. ‘I always treat my girls like princesses,’ he said, and Tess was torn between happiness at being called his girl and concern that it didn’t seem like an exclusive position.
Janey pursed her lips. ‘Well, Happy New Year to you both,’ she said, and then, wagging a finger at Travis, added, ‘Behave yourself.’
‘Have a good night, Mrs Bayless,’ said Tess.
‘Hmm . . . a good girl,’ said Travis once Janey was out of earshot. ‘Hope not too much of one,’ and when he kissed the side of her neck with hard lips, Tess felt a tingle all the way down to her groin.
Travis’s hand was getting cocky now, moving from her knee and stroking upward. When Tess felt his calloused fingers reach the pillowy softness of her inner thigh, she quickly shut her legs, blocking the path.
‘Not here,’ she murmured.
He said nothing but hooked a finger through the strap of her dress and lifted it away from her skin. Looking down, she could see her own breasts, vulnerably pale against her tan marks, and she felt something stiffen, blunt and heavy, behind her. Tess felt a mixture of curious desire and embarrassment all at once.
Travis removed his hand and put it down the front of his shorts to adjust himself. Tess pretended not to notice, instead watching the men standing around the bonfire with jerry cans.
‘Isn’t that your sister?’ asked Travis, craning his head down the beach. The deep blue of dusk was deepening but she could still make out Eliza, no doubt wearing her new sandals, walking down towards the water with her friends. ‘Got those sexy odd eyes.’
And Tess was surprised by a sudden gush of jealousy that masked something more complex. A feeling of uncertainty, perhaps. Everyone knew that she was the beautiful sister and Eliza was the smart sister. It was just the way things were.
‘Not as sexy as you, though,’ he continued and his arm rubbed suggestively against the underside of her breast. ‘Who’s that with her?’
‘Just Amy and Grace,’ said Tess, trying to sound bored because they were only kids.
The three girls met a boy and clambered up onto the rocks. Tess felt regret about her sandals getting soaked and scratched.
‘Took long enough,’ said Travis as the bonfire roared into life. She watched the sparks leap up and as she sat there she imagined that it was her old life burning up into something much more exciting.
‘Time to go,’ he said eventually, standing up.
She shook out her towel before rolling it up. Looking up and down the beach, she couldn’t see Bridie anywhere. ‘My friend’s going to come with us,’ she said.
Travis looked annoyed. ‘I’m not waiting for her.’ He sounded like he wasn’t that fussed about waiting for Tess either.
She bit her lip, and when Travis held out his hand to her, she took it.
‘I’m supposed to be staying at her house tonight.’
Travis laughed. ‘That’s all right then. I’ll look after you,’ and he picked Tess up and slung her over his shoulder as if she weighed nothing at all.
He liked the Mustang just as Tess knew he would.
‘Your dad’s?’ he asked, running a finger across the sharp ridge at the edge of the bonnet. ‘I’ve got to drive it.’
‘Dad would kill me if anything happened to it,’ said Tess, hoping he would understand that was a ‘no’ because hadn’t he lost his licence? She got out the keys, feeling the hard leather of the keyring in her hand.
‘I’ll be good,’ Travis said, and he kissed her full on the lips, hot and open-mouthed, their first real kiss and she was so caught up in the moment of it that she didn’t even notice he’d taken the keys from her until it was too late.
However, Travis could drive well, much better than Tess in fact, and the houses flew past on fast forward, then the streetlights disappeared and Tess’s world narrowed to the cat’s eyes reflecting on the white posts by the side of the road.
‘Is the party in the pine forest?’ she asked, suddenly realising that she still didn’t know their destination.
‘Just before The Castle,’ said Travis. ‘Dave squared it with Wes Bayless.’
There was something about the vibrations of the car, the noise of the engine and his driving that made her pulse between the legs. Turning to smile at his profile, she tried to imagine what sex with him would be like, but he was focused totally on the road and seemed to have forgotten that she was even there.
Tess could see the outline of The Castle far off in the distance until the trees of the estate blocked it from view. She wanted to tell Travis to drive up to it so they could get out and dance on its lawn, just like she was a princess with her own Prince Charming, but Travis accelerated along Ophir Road until they came to an open gate and then drove up the track. Tess could see lights coming from the old woolshed.
‘Better stick to the middle,’ said Travis, slowing down to a crawl, following the grooves made by other tyres lit up in the headlights. ‘Don’t want to get bogged.’
Tess found it hard not to wince as they bounced along, thinking of what her father would say. Finally, they went through another open gate and parked the Mustang among the other cars on grass. Travis threw her the keys and then immediately found some guys from the footy club to talk to.
There were far fewer people than she had expected. Plenty of girls from school had sworn they were going, and had actually been coming to the party for years, and yet Tess couldn’t see a single one. In fact, there weren’t many girls here, just a handful dancing on the roughly made floor that had been assembled by laying large bits of square plywood over the compacted dirt. Travis was slow on the introductions but diligent on drinks, so Tess stood there, not quite able to hear conversations over the music, taking large gulps from her beer in order to have something to do. She had decided that she would nurse the same drink all night but found herself having the one cup instead, over and over again. When it was midnight, Travis kissed her abruptly but immediately moved on to other girls and she found his friends kissing her as well. Dave Deasey slipped in an exploratory tongue before she could pull away, and then they went back to ignoring her again.
• • •
It was after the mistimed fireworks and her second trip to the port-a-loo, still clinging onto her cup like a safety blanket, that she saw Grace walking through the now-empty dance floor.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked. Grace was the first person she had spoken to in a while and her mouth and tongue seemed to be working independently of each other.
‘Looking for you,’ Grace said. Tess was sure Grace was staring at her suspiciously and made a conscious effort to speak more clearly.
‘Is Eliza with you?’ she asked, clutching Grace’s shoulders to steady herself. She was too close to Grace’s face and everything seemed out of focus. The world swayed and her feet hurt. Maybe she could just lie down for a bit and then someone could drive her home, but she seemed to have lost Travis ages ago.
‘Are you all right?’ asked Grace.
‘Great time,’ said Tess, because full sentences seemed too much and then her legs decided it was time to sit and she did, knocking a boy’s drink over on the way down. He told them to fuck off.
‘We can walk
back into town,’ said Grace, but her voice sounded doubtful.
‘Car,’ said Tess. Her eyes felt heavy.
‘You can’t drive like this,’ Grace said, her face swimming in and out of focus.
‘Don’t tell me,’ began Tess. The words were taking too long to connect so instead she pushed Grace hard in the chest, but the delivery was more of a smack.
‘Girl fight,’ hooted a voice.
Tess’s eyes shut and when she opened them up again to say ‘Don’t go’, time had jumped, Grace had disappeared and the long face of Dave Deasey was there.
‘I think you’ve had enough,’ he said, but his words didn’t quite make sense to Tess. ‘How are you getting home?’ he asked, handing her a cup. ‘It’s only water.’
She took a sip but her throat burned and she couldn’t tell if it was her or the drink.
‘I’ve got a car,’ she said.
There was a boy juggling beer bottles on the dance floor but he kept dropping them deliberately, trying to make them smash, and people were cheering him on. Tess put her wrist up to her face to read the time on her watch, but the numbers seemed to be jumping with the music.
‘Travis?’ she asked him. Her head hurt.
Dave looked embarrassed. ‘He’s just stringing you along. How about I walk you to your car? Maybe have a lie-down first before you drive.’
There was something about the way Dave said this, a little too eagerly, with his arm slithering uninvited around her waist, that made Tess say no, she was fine, and she stood up and began to walk.
‘You forgot your bag,’ he said, handing it to her. ‘Happy New Year.’
‘You too,’ Tess said, embarrassed, slinging it over her shoulder.
The night had turned cold and shivery around her. A girl she had seen dancing earlier was in the mud, asleep or unconscious, it was hard to tell. Her skirt was right up around her waist, exposing her knickers. Tess felt like she should check if the girl was OK but feeling far from it herself, simply pulled down her skirt, stepped over her and headed outside into the dark.
She tried to guess the direction of the car but got it wrong, so retraced her steps back to the shed and began again. Her head felt worse. Knots of shapes were sitting round a fire in a 44-gallon drum, and she walked nearer to ask for directions until she saw Travis was there and turned away. She never wanted to talk to him again.
There was a patch of silver up ahead which turned out to be moonlight glinting off cars. She picked up her pace until suddenly she fell to the ground. Bleary eyes looked down at her.
‘Can’t go,’ Travis slurred.
‘Get off me,’ and she tried to push him away.
His breath was a wet mist of alcohol. He began fumbling at her neckline and suddenly her breasts were exposed. Tess almost expected him to stop and apologise but instead his hand clawed at them.
‘No,’ she said, or was that only in her head, because this was happening so quickly that Tess couldn’t believe it was happening at all. He kept talking, whispering in her ear things she had never been called before and when she tried to move, to push away, her arms were pinned beneath her. The strap of her bag was tangled up as well. Persistent fingers pulled her undies down, forcing her legs apart. She could feel his penis flopping between her thighs. Getting a hand free, she pulled at the arm holding her down. It was more a gesture, a demonstration of the words that were stuck in her throat. The backhander she received in reply was enough to make her teeth rattle. When she opened her mouth to cry, not even sure she could make a sound, he clamped an enormous palm over it.
Tess angled her head, turning so she couldn’t see the look on his face, but she couldn’t stop herself hearing him grunt. All the warmth leached out of her and she became completely still. She forced herself to stare at a nearby tree, to pretend she was flying up to it until she was at the top, looking down on the bucking naked arse of Travis Young as he drilled into some poor girl she barely recognised.
Only when Travis got up and walked away, leaving her lying in the mud, did she realise several other boys had been watching and had done nothing to stop him. People she had seen in town all her life had stood there. That was when she began to cry.
‘She’s had enough,’ one of the shadows said, as if it had all been her idea. It was Dave. He pulled her to standing and Tess, terrified he was going to do the same as Travis, spun her bag around and smacked it into him.
‘Fuck,’ he said. ‘You’re a psycho.’
And she felt psycho. The protective shell that was Tess Carmody the good girl, who thought kindly of others and expected kindness in return, had been cracked open and the inside of her spat out.
She didn’t turn on the headlights. She didn’t want anyone to notice her going, to chase and pull her from the car and do that all over again. Instead, she pushed too hard in reverse and skidded in the mud.
There were no words for the pain, or if there were Tess didn’t know them. She could still feel his fingers digging into her skin as if he’d left a trail of bruises marking out his path. Her arms and legs trembled and didn’t seem to obey instruction, probably because she wasn’t sure they still belonged to her, but the car kept moving. Just as she came to the road from the dirt track she thought she heard a noise, a call, someone telling her to stop but the world outside didn’t matter. Nothing mattered now. She was going to drive away as fast as she could and she didn’t care about anything or anyone else and she never would again.
19
Luke Tyrell stands in the hallway in front of me.
Instinctively, I lash out with my legs, trying to kick him. There’s a grunt as my foot connects somewhere above his knee and he bends over. I kick hard again, getting ready to sprint to the door, but he was only fooling and in an instant grabs my foot and twists. He pulls my leg higher, I overbalance and crash into the floor, my hip and shoulder taking the brunt of the impact. He reaches around, grabs my hands and, half carrying, half pulling, drags me into the living room and throws me onto the couch.
The gag works its way further down my throat, making me choke. Every time I try to breathe the material seems to expand and all I do is cough more, panic more and breathe less.
Luke crouches down next to me.
Feeling that I am suffocating, my eyes fill with tears.
‘I’ll take off the gag if you promise not to yell,’ he says.
Panicking, I nod.
He rips it down and pulls the spit-sodden material from my mouth. The air comes in huge wheezing shudders. He stays next to me, gag at the ready. I stare at the floor trying to stop myself from throwing up.
Slowly, I raise my head to take in his dark jeans, the grey hoodie over his black T-shirt. There’s a little ducktail flick of hair just above the collar and heavy stubble across his face. When I get to his eyes there is fear in them. I quickly look away because nothing is more contagious.
‘I’ll get you water,’ he says. ‘Don’t move.’ He knocks into the coffee table on his way out and the bundle of Dad’s documents spills across it and onto the floor. He swears, but doesn’t bother to pick any of them up. He heads to the kitchen, which is just off the living room, and turns the tap on. Pain comes rushing in. My head and body throb from the impact of my fall. My handbag is sitting on the dining table about five metres away. Testing the bonds around my wrists, my hands can barely pull apart. I stare at the piece of paper in front of me, trying to keep myself from giving in to full-blown panic. My father’s signature is on it and I recall a childhood promise to keep me safe by locking up all the bad guys.
Why aren’t you coming to rescue me now, Dad?
Luke comes back with a cup and holds it to my mouth. Water rushes out too quickly. I try to gulp but instead cough and splutter. He swears and rights the cup, waiting for me to stop before managing the flow more gently, like a parent helping a child. The water trickles down, smoothing away the roughness in my throat.
He puts the cup on the table and takes the seat opposite me. He sways a little as
he sits down. Is he on drugs? And if he is, does that make this situation better or worse?
Dad always carried a cigarette packet with him because there’s nothing like a smoke for instant camaraderie. His voice comes into my head unbidden. Scared people make stupid decisions. Give him a chance to relax. Become his friend.
‘Sorry.’ My voice is thick. ‘You scared me. I shouldn’t have tried to run.’ I can still taste the material in my mouth, the fur of it on my tongue.
‘People want to kill me, you know. I could hardly knock on your door.’ His arm is hitting the side of the chair like some sort of tic.
‘How did you find me?’ It’s not the right question but I can’t help asking it.
‘Mum checked your car licence at the nursing home. She said I needed to explain to you what happened.’
Instantly I hate her, but I swallow that down for now. It can wait.
‘Cadee wouldn’t have said to tie me up.’
Tap, tap, tap goes his hand.
‘You weren’t supposed to run,’ he says. His eyes are feverish red, from drugs or exhaustion it’s still too hard to tell. I need to improve my position while everything is fluid.
‘I won’t run now,’ I say. ‘So you can untie me.’
There’s an instant frown as he tries to size me up, to test the logic of what I am saying.
‘I swear I won’t.’ I try to smile but it’s too hard.
Make an assessment and then work on anything you have in common, Dad tells me.
Luke stands up and walks behind me. Sitting in the small of his back there is a gun tucked into his belt. My heart contracts. Pulling my arms roughly, he tries to get the binds loose but I don’t wince. The last knot is undone and then I am free. Instinctively, I want to rub my wrists but don’t because I’m play-acting that there is no gun, that we are friends and that absolutely everything about this is normal, because if I do, then perhaps the demons inside him will go to sleep.
Second Sight Page 16
