Finding Darcy

by Sue Lawson

  ‘So you’re not cross?’ I asked.

  ‘Not with you, mate.’

  ‘How’s Batty?’

  Boof shrugged. ‘She’s in her room. Door’s shut.’

  I hung my head. Tears filled my eyes. ‘Boof, what if I’ve killed her?’

  ‘Mate, you’ve caused a ruckus, that’s for sure, but you haven’t killed anyone.’

  ‘I can’t stay here, not after tonight.’

  Boof nodded. ‘That’s for sure, mate.’

  ‘Could you drop me at Laura’s?’

  ‘Laura’s? Are you serious? You’re coming with me.’

  ‘I can’t. You’re so busy. Mum will kill me.’

  ‘Max will be fine.’ He stood and picked up my stuff. ‘And Darce, I’m never too busy for you.’

  A huge sob rushed from me. ‘Thanks, Boof.’

  Loaded up with my bags, we walked down the hall. My body shook at the thought of facing Misery. I stopped outside Batty’s room. ‘Grandma,’ I croaked, palm against her door. ‘I’m sorry.’

  There was no response from Batty.

  In the lounge, arms folded and face white, Misery sneered. Unable to see for tears, I followed Boof to his dual cab. I was about to climb into the passenger seat when Batty called out.

  ‘Darcy.’

  I rushed to where she stood on the veranda. ‘Grandma, I—’

  ‘Take no notice of her. She’s just striking out like a wounded animal.’

  I shook my head. ‘She’s right, Grandma. I should have let it be.’

  ‘You should not! It’s time the silence about Charlie ended.’ She held both my hands. ‘Darcy, she’s wrong. About you and your father. Sean was a special man, and you are an amazing girl.’

  I stared at the splashes my tears left on the concrete.

  Batty drew me to her. ‘Thank you, Darcy. Thank you for wanting to know.’ She threw her arms around me and squeezed. It wasn’t the hug of a frail old woman, but more like one of Mum’s bear hugs. I held on, crying.

  ‘Come inside, Mum,’ said Misery, her voice like ice.

  I stepped back and reached into my pocket.

  ‘Grandma, these are yours. I took them from your place.’ I couldn’t look at her face. ‘It started off as a project and then … well I just needed to know.’ I handed her the photos.

  She took the photos, tears spilling from her eyes. It was hard to tell if she was happy or sad. ‘This is him, Darcy. Cheeky, fun, bold and so handsome.’ She handed the photos back. ‘Keep them.’

  ‘I can’t!’

  She thrust it at me. ‘Yes you can. And you will.’

  I kissed her cheek.

  Misery charged towards us like an attacking battleship. I bolted for the car.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Boof apologised for the mess three times before we’d made it to his back door. Once I was inside, I understood why. Pizza boxes and newspapers covered the kitchen table and the sink was stacked full of dishes. The lounge wasn’t much better. The sofa was covered in clothes and the coffee table was covered in crumpled coke cans and mugs.

  ‘Maddie’s room’s tidy,’ said Boof, leading me down a wide corridor. ‘Linen’s fresh. Just in case Linda really does let the kids come here next school holidays. ’ He placed my bags near the wardrobe and looked around the room. ‘Should spruce it up, you know, make it into an 11-year-old’s room.’

  The pink doona was covered in cream stars and above the bed hung a star mobile. Stuffed teddies were crammed onto the top of the wardrobe. Posters of puppies and kittens covered the wall behind the bed. ‘Probably. I could help if you like.’

  ‘That’d be great, Darce.’ Boof smiled. ‘I’ll stick a clean towel in the bathroom for you. Sleep well.’ He closed the door behind him.

  Snuggled under the doona, I stared at the glowing stars on the ceiling. One thought rolled through my head—be okay, Batty.

  I dreamt I was lying on my side inside a dark, dank chest that smelt of lavender and old paper. Water began to seep through invisible cracks, pooling under my shoulder and hip. I reached up to push the lid. It was locked.

  The water rose higher. I kicked and punched, yelled and screamed. No one came. I took a last gasp of air before the water covered my face. The chest opened. A man’s hand reached down. I grasped it and he pulled out.

  I woke gasping for air, my head pounding. I leapt from bed and went to the kitchen, unable to shake the panic from my dream.

  ‘Relax mate, milking’s done.’ Boof grinned. ‘Hope you’re hungry.’

  I nodded as I sat at the table.

  Boof placed a plate of bacon, English muffins and poached eggs in front of me. Boof had fried his eggs.

  The last thing I felt like was a cooked breakfast. But Boof had gone to so much trouble. I ate everything, even the bacon.

  I expected Boof to say he’d drive me to school. Instead, he poured an orange juice and said, ‘You need to ring her.’

  I shook my head. ‘No way. She hates me, Boof. You saw the way she looked at me.’

  ‘Not Granny, Darcy. Maxine. You need to tell her what has happened.’

  My heart lurched. I stared at the pulp floating in the juice. ‘But Boof, she—’

  ‘Needs to hear it from you.’

  ‘Maybe later.’ I sculled the juice.

  Boof dropped the subject, until after lunch. Sandwiches—peanut butter for Boof, tomato for me.

  He handed me the telephone. ‘I’ll be fencing in the dam paddock if you need me.’

  Once I heard the ute engine start, I dialled. It rang twice before Mum answered.

  ‘Darcy?’ she whispered.

  ‘You’re in class. I’ll ring back later.’

  ‘No, wait. I’ll sneak out.’

  I listened to papers shuffle and footsteps. The muffled steps cleared, ringing on what sounded like a tiled floor.

  ‘You there, Darce?’ She sounded edgy. Maybe a little panicked. ‘Why are you ringing from Boof’s?’

  I’d forgotten his number would show up on her phone.

  ‘Is everything okay?’ she demanded.

  ‘Not really.’ Forcing the words past the lump in my throat was tough. ‘Mum, I need you to listen, just listen. Okay?’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘I’ve blown it. In a major way.’ I leant against the kitchen bench and told her everything. About the project, Misery catching me snooping, everything. As I spoke, I twisted and untwisted the phone cord around my finger. ‘I called Boof, because I thought … well.’ My heart felt like it would burst. ‘Mum, she said I sicken her.’

  ‘Oh, Darcy.’

  Mum’s voice reminded me of an eggshell, brittle and empty. This time the footsteps I heard were fast.

  ‘It’s one fifteen,’ she said. ‘If I leave now, I’ll be at Deb’s in about an hour and be home by six.’ The footsteps stopped. ‘Darce, why couldn’t you have let it be?’

  ‘It’s “letting it be” that started it.’

  Anger sizzled between my words.

  ‘Living with a giant shadow, in fact two giant shadows, hovering over me, sucks.’

  ‘What shadows?’ Mum’s voice was sharp.

  ‘Charlie and Dad.’

  ‘Darcy, I will not get into this now.’

  ‘See what I mean? Bloody shadows. They’re wedged between us. It’s rubbish.’

  ‘Enough, Darcy!’ I jumped at the force in Mum’s voice. ‘It’s not as simple as you think. I’ll be home this evening. We’ll discuss it then.’

  ‘What about the course?’

  ‘Stuff the course.’

  ‘But you’re nearly done. You can’t just walk out.’

  ‘I’m coming home, Darcy.’

  ‘Finish the course, please. I promise not to cause more trouble.’

  ‘No, I’m on the way.’

  I slumped against the wall, staring out the window at the cubby house under the ancient cypress. ‘Mum, please stay. Finish it. I can’t do this again.’

  ‘But Boof…’ I
could picture Mum biting her lip, tugging at her hair while she thought things through.

  ‘Boof’s fine. He reckons I’m a good distraction.’

  ‘I’m so close to finished…’

  ‘Exactly,’ I tried to sound convincing. ‘I’ll be fine. Just promise me we’ll talk, really talk, when you’re done.’

  I could hear her sucking on her bottom lip. ‘I promise. But you have to make a promise, too.’

  My jaw felt tight.

  ‘We’ll talk as long as you promise you’ll explain to Mr Newtown that you can’t do the project. Actually, I’ll ring him now.’

  ‘Don’t. Please. I’ll take care of it, Mum.’

  ‘Promise?’

  I stared at the lino. ‘I’ll work it out.’

  After cleaning up the mess at Boof’s, I wandered through the garden, heading to the dam paddock to help him. Not that I knew anything about fencing.

  Goldfinches flew past the twisted rose to the cypress tree, landing on the cubby roof. Ages ago, Mum told me Charlie had built the cubby for Alice and Misery. It was one of the few things I knew about him before the project.

  About the time Lindy was pregnant with Declan, Boof painted the cubby, replaced the broken windows and built in a kitchen sink and bench. Whenever Mum and I visited Boof and Lindy, I’d play in the cubby with Maddie and Declan.

  The cubby had been a home, hospital, motel or restaurant depending on what we were playing. The last time it had been a restaurant. Maddie, Declan and I made mud pies in old baking tins and decorated them with gum nuts and cypress cones. We took it in turns being the waiter or guests.

  Since Dec and Maddie had gone, the cubby had been abandoned. White paint peeled from its weatherboards. Dirt coated the windows. A thick branch scraped the rusting roof, making an eerie screeching sound. I wedged open the green door.

  Sunshine shone through a clean spot on a dirty window onto an overturned plastic chair. I picked it up and sat, head leaning against the wall. With my toe, I poked a brick that sat higher in the floor than the rest. The brick wobbled. I lifted it out and scooped out dirt, so the brick would sit flat in the floor again.

  My fingernails hit something hard. I dug and scraped, exposing an old tin. Caked in dirt, it was half as big as a brick. I shook the tin near my ear. Whatever was inside slid more than rattled.

  I wedged my fingernails under the lid and tried to prise off the lid. It wouldn’t budge. A rusty nail stuck out from the wall above the bench. I pulled it free and wiggled it under the edge of the lid. The lid came off with a soft pop.

  Inside were folded pieces of yellowed paper. I unfolded the first. The paper was thin and torn in the folds.

  May 12, 1945 Dear Daddy, The war in Germany is over. When will you be home? We miss you very much. Artie says he misses you, but he couldn’t really because he was only a baby when you went overseas. I was three, so I can remember you. Alice says I’m making it up, but she’s wrong. Mummy says we’ll have a party when you come home. She’s going to help me make jam drops and we’ll have a roast. Mummy’s going to ask Mr O’Sullivan to milk that night and the next morning, too. She said I could play the piano for you. Even though Alice is older, I get to go before her because she slammed my thumb in the door yesterday. Come home soon, Daddy. We miss you. Love your daughter, Margaret. Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx oooooooooooooooooooo PS. You’ll be able to tell Alice and me apart. She’s taller than me and has curly hair. PPS. Watch out for our new cattle dog, Jess. She jumps on everyone.

  I stared at the name until the pencil swirls blurred. Charlie left for Rabaul in 1941. If Misery was three then, she must have been four when he died and seven or eight when she wrote the letter.

  Gramps died when I was five. I could remember visiting him in hospital. Wires and tubes hooked him to whirring and beeping machines. It freaked me out. Gramps died when I was at school. Mum took me to the beach and told me while we made sandcastles.

  Why hadn’t Batty told Misery that Charlie was dead?

  The second letter, dated August 1945, was in worse condition. It was covered in brown dots and the folds weren’t lines, but tattered rips. Only two questions were clear.

  Where are you Daddy?

  Why haven’t you come home yet?

  Three months after the war had ended. Three months after the first letter. Three years and two months since Charlie had died.

  It didn’t make sense. Why didn’t Misery know by then that her dad was dead?

  As I slipped the letters back in the tin, I noticed the photo. It must have been taken on the same day as the one I’d found at Batty’s.

  The family stood under the same gum tree. Batty wiped Misery’s face. Alice looked up at Charlie. Charlie, cradling Arthur, leant towards her. At least I think it was Charlie. His face had been cut from the photo.

  I tucked the photos and letters back into the tin, reburied it and wedged the brick back in place.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  ‘Meet you here after school,’ said Boof, parking by the school gate.

  I climbed out, and slung my bag over my shoulder. ‘Boof, thanks. For everything.’

  He winked. ‘Not a problem, mate. You can show your appreciation by helping me milk tonight.’

  ‘Hey, I helped last night! How about I cook dinner instead? If you don’t mind taking me to the supermarket after school to buy veggies.’

  ‘Deal,’ said Boof. He waved as he drove off.

  ‘Darce,’ yelled Laura, sprinting towards me. ‘Is everything okay?’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Well, you weren’t at school yesterday, your phone’s turned off, and when I called Misery’s she said you weren’t there. What’s going on?’

  ‘Remember I said moving in with Misery would be disastrous? Of Titanic proportions?’ As we walked into school, I told Laura the story.

  ‘That’s completely horrible,’ she said, her eyes troubled. ‘Why didn’t you phone me? Mum and Dad would have come straight away.’

  ‘I asked Boof to take me to your place, but he insisted I stay with him.’

  ‘Does your Mum know?’

  I looked at my feet. ‘Yeah, I told her yesterday.’

  Laura grimaced. ‘Still, you could have phoned, or at least turned your phone on.’

  ‘Sorry, Loz. I just needed to work stuff out.’

  The Triplets sauntered by, noses in the air, ponytails bobbing. Sarah glared and spat ‘Amazon’.

  ‘Give it a bone, Sarah,’ I said. Her crap didn’t seem important any more. I stopped outside the school office. ‘Meet you in home room, Loz. I need to talk to The Newt.’

  ‘What about?’

  ‘Changing topics for my project.’

  ‘Want me to come?’ asked Laura.

  ‘Nah, I’ll be right.’

  The Newt was correcting work at his table.

  ‘Mr Newtown,’ I said, tapping on his door. ‘Can I talk to you about my project?’

  He placed his pen down and nodded at the chair inside his door. ‘Sit down, Ms Abbott. It seems you’ve made admirable progress.’

  ‘I have. But…’ My stomach twisted. ‘I need to change topics.’

  The Newt rubbed his chin. ‘I don’t suppose this has anything to do with you staying with your uncle.’

  I gasped. ‘Who told you?’

  ‘Your grandmother phoned the school yesterday.’

  I looked at my hands clasped in my lap.

  ‘What happened, Darcy?’ asked The Newt, his voice gentle.

  ‘She didn’t say?’ I asked, peeking at his face.

  The Newt shook his head.

  Since finding the letters and photo in the tin, shame mixed with my anger. ‘Misery caught me in Batty’s room, looking for stuff about Charlie.’

  The Newt frowned. ‘I’m guessing Misery is Margaret and Batty your great-grandmother?’

  For the first time I realised how awful the nicknames sounded. ‘Grandma Betty reckons Charlie called her Batty, too.’ Like that excused it.
<
br />   The Newt leant forward, elbows resting on his knees. ‘Darcy, I fear I’m responsible for this situation.’

  ‘How?’ I folded my arms. ‘You didn’t break promises or poke around in other people’s stuff. I did that on my own.’

  ‘But I set you on a course of which your grandmother disapproved.’

  The way Misery had spoken to Batty flashed through my mind. ‘Misery disapproves of everything.’

  ‘That’s unfair, Darcy.’

  ‘You don’t know what she’s like. She doesn’t care about anything, especially me.’

  ‘So how do you explain her charging up to school after that dreadful incident in SOSE?’ asked The Newt, eyebrows raised. ‘Father Nelson’s still recovering.’

  ‘But I didn’t tell her anything about it.’

  ‘No, but I did. I called her from the class phone after you left. She turned up soon after.’

  She must have come to school when I slept. ‘She didn’t say a word.’

  ‘Things are not always as they seem, Darcy. I think this project alone has taught you that.’ The Newt leant back and folded his arms. ‘Come back and see me in a few days. We’ll make a final decision about the project then.’

  I opened my mouth to argue, to explain about my promise to Mum, but he silenced me with a raised hand. ‘Time is a great healer Ms Abbott. Give it a few days.’

  I stood and picked up my backpack. ‘But can I change topics then?’

  ‘If need be.’

  ‘Hey, Abbott,’ called Neanderthal lumbering towards me, carrying books.

  I thought about bolting back into the office building. ‘What?’ I asked, hands on my hips.

  He thrust the bundle of books and papers at me. ‘These are for you. From Dad.’

  ‘What are they?’

  ‘Books. Dad said there’s stuff about that ship in them.’

  I glanced from the books to his face. ‘Why?’

  ‘How am I supposed to know? He thought they would help with the assignment.’

  ‘Serious?’

  Neanderthal almost shook the books at me. ‘Just look at them.’

  I reached out as though I were about to pat a tiger.