by John Marsden
Well, we shall come to that presently. ‘Unmade beds and general unkempt conditions in bedrooms. No fruit was observed. A tin of Milo was open on the bench. A wet load of laundry in the washing machine.’ This might be my house on a busy day Ms Randall. It might be anybody’s house. Are you proposing to come and take my children from me because we had a mouse in the kitchen last night?
It’s the totality we look at.
Because you don’t like the number of cans of Pepsi we have in the fridge? Because I’m in the process of fixing the radiator and I’ve got the safety guard off it while I do so?
No, of course not. But when the overall picture is one of . . .
‘Lavatory appeared to be clean but bath and shower area has been neglected for some time.’ ‘Appeared to be’, it’s like the rest of your report, ‘it is possible that’, ‘it is more than probable’, ‘it seems reasonable to suppose’ . . . your report is nothing more than a collection of guesses and hypotheses, and I put it to you, a mirror of your own prejudices.
It’s not meant to be . . . it’s not produced to be analysed in this amount of detail by a barrister, let alone one of your . . . it’s just for the use of the Department, as a guide to us. We, they, don’t normally get the kind of elaborate scrutiny that you’re . . .
(His Honour) Come now Ms Randall, that won’t do. I think you know better than that.
I’m sorry Your Honour, it’s just that we see so many cases, and not every report has the i’s dotted and the t’s crossed perhaps. I know Mr Blaine’s very good at his job but to my mind the child’s circumstances, living with someone who’s still a child herself, legally speaking, really, it speaks for itself, and so this report is possibly not as detailed as some that we do . . .
(His Honour) When we are dealing with the intervention of the State in a child’s life, when we are taking a child out of the conditions to which he has become accustomed and in which he may feel secure and comfortable, I say no more at this stage than that we should be very sure indeed that our i’s are dotted and our t’s crossed, yes, and every other letter carefully formed as well.
(Mr Blaine) I won’t keep you much longer Ms Randall but if you’d like a glass of water . . . ?
No, no it’s all right, go on.
Well, let me put this to you. The Act requires you, does it not, to respond to cases of abuse, it speaks of immediate danger to children, it talks about emotional and physical health and so on . . .
Yes, that’s correct.
Yet according to your report, and I can see by your face that you know where I’m going with this, Gavin’s situation was merely one of a child whose ‘best interests are clearly not being served by his present circumstances’. That falls quite a long way short of abuse and neglect and danger does it not?
Yes, I must admit that my supervisor did point out last week that it wasn’t very well worded. I’d word that differently if I was doing it now. I’ve been told not to use expressions like that any more.
Because if you concerned yourself with children whose best interests are not being served by their present circumstances you would need a hundred thousand extra staff, would you not?
Well, the fact remains that he is a child who needs to be in a very different environment.
You state that as a fact, but it is not a fact, it is an opinion, and it’s because you hold that opinion but are not able to support it with facts that this child’s life has been disrupted yet again and we are here today. Now let me put a few questions to you and then I’ll be finished. Has Gavin ever committed an act of delinquency?
Not so far as I’m aware, not to my knowledge, no.
So your answer is ‘no’ then?
That’s correct, yes, as far as I know.
Has he a criminal record?
I don’t think so, no, no we checked that of course, no he doesn’t.
Has he ever used drugs?
I’m not aware of that, no.
So I’ll put that down as a ‘no’ again shall I? Has he ever made any call upon the State for assistance of any kind?
Not that I’m aware of, no. Except with the kidnapping of course.
But this orphaned child, profoundly deaf, since he has been living with Ms Linton, has made no application for special assistance of any kind to be provided by the government? No demands upon the State, no request for aid? Under the care of Ms Linton he has been completely self-sufficient?
I don’t know of any requests like the ones you’re talking about. He may have done of course.
My instructions are that he has not. And there have been no previous complaints about him to your department?
We don’t have anything on our files, not so far as I know.
In short, apart from the usual truancies and scuffles that boys get into, it seems that he has led a thoroughly blameless life. All right Ms Randall, if my learned friend has no further questions for you, you can step down thank you.
(Mr Short) No further questions Your Honour.
(His Honour) All right thank you Ms Randall, you may step down now.
CHAPTER 26
AFTER THE SPECTACULAR destruction of Ms Randall in the witness box I felt a whole lot better, but I knew it was only one battle in the war. I almost felt sorry for her as she scurried out of court. She looked shell-shocked. I would have offered her a tissue but I didn’t feel quite sorry enough to do that. The moment Court adjourned for lunch I rushed up to Mr Blaine, but he wouldn’t talk to me. He was as rude as he had been the first time we met. He was a funny guy. I never figured him out. He was like an actor in many ways I think.
It took me a while, though, to recover from his comment that Gavin had led a thoroughly blameless life. Sheez. If anyone ever found out about the terrible thing he and Mark had done to the kitten, that’d be the end of my court application.
In the afternoon a parade through the witness box began and I spent a lot of the time with my head in my hands. I guess it’s only at a funeral that most people hear what others think of them, all the good things anyway.
I’ve always thought it was a shame, and when I read in the paper the other day about a guy who only had a couple of months to live so he organised a kind of funeral party where he could hear all the speeches people were going to make, I gave him a big silent cheer.
But here I was, still young and healthy, and I was getting to hear all this stuff, and it wasn’t exactly a funeral although it would be close enough to one if we lost the case. The idea was that if enough people who knew me stood up in court and said that I was a halfway decent human being, my chances of getting Gavin back would be a lot better. So I sat there and listened to Homer’s mum and dad, to Fi’s mum, to Kevin’s dad, to Mrs Goh and Mrs Barlow from school, Mr Young, and Mrs Salter from down the road, who was looking a lot more confident now that she’d left her husband, all telling the judge how I was possibly the finest human being on the whole planet, I should have my name in that footpath in Hollywood, get an Oscar, a Logie, an Emmy, a Grammy, and a Nobel Prize. And why the Pope hadn’t called me into the Vatican for a quick canonisation was a mystery. Oh yes, that’s right, you have to be dead before that can happen; still, you’d think, after listening to these people, that they should have made an exception for me.
My head’s big enough already, I really didn’t need to hear this stuff. But on the other hand I wasn’t going to miss a word of it.
Gavin’s teacher, Mrs Rosedale, stood up and said that Gavin was a good kid, sure he was mischievous and at times he could be a little unruly, but that was understandable what with one thing and another. I sat there listening and being amazed. It wasn’t like she was there to help me, she didn’t care whether I had Gavin or someone else had him, or at least that was the impression she gave me. Had the nicotine gone to her brain? But it wasn’t just Mrs Rosedale. Why do adults change so much in situations like that? It’s like school reports. Why do they give an A for Always for stuff like ‘Helping Other Class Members’ when you know the kid spends m
ost of his time slumped at his desk dreaming of the good old days in Nazi Germany when people like him were in charge and he had the key to the gun safe? Weird.
Maybe the one who made the biggest impact, though, was General Finley. He came all the way from New Zealand to do it. And to see Jeremy I guess, to be fair. I couldn’t help thinking when I saw him walk in that this guy could have become my father-in-law.
Lee sat next to me, holding my hand when I wasn’t needing it to bury my head in it. I was using both hands quite a lot as the character witnesses came and had their say and left again. Lee kept whispering rude comments about the things they were saying, until Mr Blaine passed a note back saying Don’t talk, don’t show affection for boyfriend, no contact, which was a joke. Lee my boyfriend again? No way thanks. Mr Blaine’s note almost sounded like the rules at Wirrawee High. But I realised what he meant: it was not a good look for the judge to see us acting like teenagers in love. Anyway, God forbid I should be in a relationship. You wouldn’t want to entrust a kid to someone who can feel love, would you?
Anyway, General Finley. He was in full military uniform. He looked pretty damn impressive. Jeremy had told me he was retiring from the Army soon, to go into business, and I figured he’d do well. He was a classy guy.
He took the Bible and said the words that I was becoming very familiar with, after two days in court, about not telling any big fat greasy lies, and then went ahead and told them I was responsible, mature, sensible, brave, etc etc etc. So I figured he’d probably burn in hell for those porkers. He didn’t mention the fact that I’d just broken up with his son, and that might have caused his son to break up completely, but he actually apologised to me afterwards for Jeremy, and said he was taking him back to New Zealand to see a psychiatrist. But I’ll always remember him for his loyalty, in coming all that way.
‘The only true test of friendship is the time your friend spends on you.’ I just made that up. Cos nothing else matters really. People can spend time with you, but that isn’t the same thing. You can spend an awful lot of time with someone and not spend any time on them at all. And for that matter people can spend money on you or give you stuff, but when they actually hand you half an hour or an hour or a whole afternoon of their time and it’s all yours, then, well, that’s some gift.
Meanwhile the case went on and on. And on. I gave evidence, and was glad I’d had the experience of doing it in the trial of Mr Manning, because it did help a bit. Gavin gave evidence but I wasn’t allowed to be in court when he was there, in case I put him off. He had to be free to say whatever horrible, mean and nasty things he wanted about me. I was really regretting the number of times I’d bashed him, and hoping he could still remember the difference between play fighting and real fighting. And that he didn’t hold a grudge for all the times I’d pulled him away from Battle of Titans on the computer.
Then it was all over. Mr Blaine asked the judge if we could have a quick decision as ‘these two young people have been through a great deal in their short lives Your Honour and it would seem cruel to keep them waiting any longer than strictly necessary’. The judge looked irritated and snapped, ‘I’m quite aware that a good deal rides upon this case for them, Mr Blaine, as it does for everyone else who has applications before this court.’
He looked at his calendar and then announced that he’d give his verdict on Monday, which Mr Blaine told me afterwards was very good and unusually quick, and then I went home to wait.
CHAPTER 27
ONE THING ABOUT school, when your life’s going badly you can always hang out there, because so much is happening around you that you can forget your own troubles. Not that it’s my way, to spend all day wallowing in my problems, but there was a lot to worry about. So it was kind of refreshing to arrive at school on Friday and hear a Year 7 girl walking up to her friend and saying in one breath, ‘We get no lunch and we have to pick up papers all lunchtime how badly does that suck?’ which for some reason struck me as very funny.
To be honest, I think I was on the point of being hysterical, so any little thing struck me as crazily funny, and I remember my friends looking at me a bit strangely and saying, ‘Actually that wasn’t especially funny, Ellie,’ when I laughed till I nearly wept over someone dropping the ball in PE.
Wirrawee High School could have been called Wirrawee psychiatric hospital that week I think, because I wasn’t the only one cracking up. The first time I saw Jeremy I made a little noise without meaning to; one of those little ‘Oh’ noises of shock or surprise that only humans seem to make. I’ve never heard any of the cattle make a noise like that when they’re in the paddock chewing the cud and having a yarn to a neighbour about the price of clover and then they turn around and see me. That’s probably one reason other creatures survive better in the wild than we humans. Those little ‘Oh’ noises give us away every time.
Dealing with relationship issues, apart from my relationship with Gavin, was not something I particularly wanted to do right at this point. But I had to do something about Jeremy. I was still bewildered by the complete change in him, the way he’d gone from nice and modest and strong and intelligent to mean and jealous in one conversation.
He frowned at me when I did the ‘Oh’ thing to him, then looked away again. He was in the concrete area near the canteen, outside the boys’ toilets, leaning against a post. He looked terrible, which is why I went ‘Oh’. I don’t know whether it’s possible for a person to lose five kilos in a week, but if it is I want to know about it. I shouldn’t try to be funny, though, because he really looked gaunt. That’s a nice word, gaunt. I don’t think I’ve ever used it before, although there are plenty of times when I could have, during the war. Or even when Gavin and I came home after being locked up in the house in Havelock. I hope we didn’t look as bad as Jeremy, although we probably did. It wasn’t just that he’d lost weight. Jeremy was normally so neat and clean, but now he looked like he’d been lending his clothes to a homeless person and just got them back, and what’s more, he’d run out of shampoo last Christmas and was still waiting to get a new bottle.
I went to him, feeling the anger I’d built up against him leave my body in a rush, because he really didn’t look well. He turned away quickly and made it obvious that he wasn’t hanging out for a long friendly chat.
‘Hi Jeremy.
‘Do you want to talk about the other day?
‘Cos it would be good if we could talk about it.
‘I guess you’re not in a mood to talk, huh.
‘Are you okay?
‘When’s your dad taking you back to New Zealand?
‘I’ll miss you if you go.
‘Your dad was great in the court case. I think he really made a difference. The judge is announcing his decision on Monday. I don’t know what my chances are. And the sale is on tomorrow. I really should be home getting ready for it.’
Well, I got that right. I should have been home preparing for it. But it was too lonely there with Gavin gone. I drifted away from Jeremy, embarrassed that people had been lounging around listening to my attempted conversation and staring at us like we were interesting specimens at the zoo. Instead I went and found Bronte and Homer to see if we could nick off at lunchtime. They had promised to help me do all the last-minute stuff for the sale, but Homer wanted to go to Maths after lunch, so I went with him and then wished I hadn’t because it just reminded me of how far behind I was and how little I understood. I was really down to two choices now with school: either repeat or seek special consideration. Or drop out, I guess that was the third choice.
Back on the farm, down in the old farmyard, Bronte and I started with a swift gardening job while Homer vacuumed the house. It was an honour to be weeding with the Scarlet Pimple. I told her that and then asked her about Jeremy.
‘I don’t think he’s too well,’ she said. ‘He’s cutting a lot of classes and not talking to anyone. Not even you by the sound of it. Poor guy.’
‘What do you think’s going on?’
&
nbsp; ‘I don’t know. I guess he’s depressed. There’s a lot of it going around. Highly infectious apparently. You should have worn a mask while you were talking to him.’
‘Ha ha very funny,’ I said automatically.
‘How come you didn’t get depressed with all the stuff that’s happened to you?’ she asked.
‘Are you kidding? I got depressed all right. I’m depressed at the moment about Gavin. But no, I know what you mean, I never get it the way some people get it. It’d be terrible to have what Jeremy’s got. I don’t know why I don’t. Some people are made that way and some people aren’t, I guess.’
‘There must be more to it than that.’
‘Yes . . . well I suppose my parents gave me really strong foundations. I’ve always thought I could cope with everything that came along, eventually. Like, sure there’s the short-term pain, the short-term agony even, but I always feel like I’ll come through it.’
‘Light at the end of the tunnel.’
‘Yeah, corny, but that’s it. Let’s do the circular garden now.’
As we picked up the little forks and took our gloves off I continued the conversation. ‘I talked to this girl once about Tao, that was good.’
‘Yeah, you told me about that. I meant to look it up but I forgot.’
‘And I do know that emotions always change sooner or later, so I use that a lot when I’m feeling depressed.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Well, you can’t tell the future with emotions, that’s another way of putting it. So if it’s five o’clock Friday, which it is, and I’m going for a run at six o’clock which I wouldn’t mind doing by the way, if you’re up for it, it’s a waste of time for me to moon around now saying, “Oh I hate the idea of going for a run, I’m so tired and it’ll be so hard,” because I don’t know how I’ll feel at six o’clock. At one minute to six I may get a sudden rush of energy and think there’s no better idea in the universe than going for a run.’
