True Stars

by Kidman, Fiona

  ‘I thought people bought disposables nowadays.’

  ‘So they do. I never thought of it. Anyway, they’re full of toxins. D’you want her to be sterile?’

  ‘What are you going to do about her?’ He loaded another washing machine. She had told him of her decision to return to Weyville in the morning.

  Rose sat down in one of the ugly little plastic bucket seats where people waited for their washing. She put her face in the warm fabric of the napkin she was holding. ‘Take her back to Minna, I suppose.’

  ‘I thought you loved the kid.’ His tone was slightly accusing.

  ‘I do.’ She jiggled the pushchair up and down as though to soothe the child, although she looked perfectly relaxed. It was an old reflex. ‘Oh yes, I love her all right.’ She leaned over and cupped Sharna’s face in her hand. ‘I can’t keep the kid while O’Meara‘s on the loose.’

  ‘We’ll get him.’

  ‘He might get me first. That wouldn’t do her much good.’

  ‘What do you want, Rose?’

  ‘You sound like Toni.’ She leaned her head on the handle of the pushchair. ‘I’m just working through the things I don’t want.’

  ‘Like Sharna?’

  ‘Don’t.’ She hesitated. ‘Everything that Katrina had.’

  ‘You can’t be serious.’

  ‘Oh, but I am. Not the men,’ she added hurriedly. ‘Well, not those particular men. But something. Something she had.’

  ‘She hasn’t got much now.’

  ‘There’s some things you can’t take away from Katrina. So I keep taking her kids. I wish you wouldn’t wear those white shoes, Nick.’

  ‘I probably won’t any more,’ he said. ‘D’you want me to come to the cop shop with you tomorrow?’

  ‘I want to catch him first. We could, you know.’

  He looked at her. ‘I guess.’

  ‘Nick, when did you first start believing in me?’

  ‘I always did.’

  ‘Oh stop being stouthearted. Nobody did, except Toni. Did she really convince you?’

  His look was shamefaced. He sat down beside her, stretching his legs. ‘When I knew you were being followed.’

  ‘Was I? You didn’t tell me that. Who followed me? How did you find out?’

  ‘Remember when you and Toni were supposed to meet me at the Oaks that evening and you stood me up?’ She nodded. ‘There was a woman there who was expecting you. She kind of picked me up, started talking about you. Very casually. But she was waiting for you.’

  ‘But how could she? Nobody knew we were supposed to go there. She’d have had to have heard our telephone conversation … Oh my God, she did?’

  ‘She must have.’

  ‘I told Toni I was being spooked. They must think I’m weird.’

  ‘You made odd complaints, I guess.’

  ‘That they didn’t believe.’

  ‘Perhaps they were worried you could have opened Kit up to blackmail.’

  ‘Stuff Kit. What about me?’ He didn’t answer. ‘Did you ever see her again?’

  ‘I often see her. She was there tonight.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The woman I was talking to. Amiable chitchat.’

  ‘The one with mousy brown hair who looks kind of busy? I’m always bumping into that woman, she’s everywhere I go.’

  ‘No,’ said Nick gently, ‘you haven’t been bumping into her. I wouldn’t express it like that.’

  Rose considered this. Presently she said, ‘Whose side is she on then?’

  ‘I don’t know. Nobody’s, I imagine. She’s probably just doing her job.’

  ‘Who’d want a job like that?’

  ‘I like watching you.’

  ‘D’you think she’s watching us now?’

  ‘I think we gave her the slip. She wasn’t expecting us to leave when we did.’

  He put his arm around her and kissed the side of her face. ‘I’m sure she’s not.’ Rose pushed the pram backwards and forwards. He seized her hand, stroking it, winding a finger around her ring.

  ‘It’s a fake,’ she said, holding the topaz to the light. ‘It’s a fake, Nick.’

  14

  ‘Supposing I won’t take her?’ Minna said when Rose turned up with Sharna. She had been watching Days of Our Lives. ‘Aren’t Don and Marlena getting old?’

  ‘I don’t know which ones they are.’

  ‘They’re the ones that used to be married. They change them around so nobody stays married to anyone for too long. Otherwise it’d get boring. It’s like politics.’

  While she was talking she pretended to ignore Sharna. But the child had opened her arms at the sight of Minna and begun to laugh, as if, at fifteen months, she could not believe what good fortune had been delivered to her.

  ‘She’s not pass the parcel, you know,’ Minna said. ‘I expect you’ll be back to get her when it suits you.’

  ‘Not if you want to keep her.’

  ‘You think you’re God Almighty, don’t you? Anyway, you don’t know for sure whether she can stay. They’ll probably take her away.’

  ‘They might. I can say a word, if it’ll help. If that’s what you want.’ She was determined not to look back as she went out the door.

  The Blake Block looked a little more appealing in the spring than when she had last been there, though not much. At least a big bright yellow forsythia bush bloomed on the front lawn and a blackbird warbled away on a telephone line stretched above a collection of old cars and a stack of worn tyres. She told herself it would be all right.

  But Minna followed her down the path, holding Sharna in her arms. She said, ‘Ellis Hannen says he’ll marry me, if it’ll help. So we can foster her.’

  Rose turned back, unable to hide her amazement. ‘Marry you. Ellie?’

  ‘People have been known to marry me.’

  ‘I’m sure … I didn’t mean that. But why should he do that for Sharna?’

  ‘He’s out of a job, he might as well.’

  ‘Then wouldn’t he be better to marry Katrina?’

  Minna gazed back, looking at her oddly. ‘She’s not exactly available, is she?’ Then she added, in her strange inflectionless voice, ‘It doesn’t really matter which one of us he marries.’

  Jane Marment gave a sigh of satisfaction. Her house was immaculate, the blinds pulled to exactly the right level. The state of the royal marriages was looking better than it had done for some time. She often worried about the Heir Apparent. The papers said such terrible things. It must worry the Queen. This morning she had polished the glass on her picture. The Queen’s dress shone like a blue flame in the dusky light of the room.

  It was time for her to sit down and take things easy for an hour or two before she began Teddy’s meal. She planned to give him a good steak tonight. He deserved it; he had been so thoughtful to her lately. ‘Meat and three vegies, Mrs M, you can’t beat them,’ he often said, giving her a fond smile. If her ankles weren’t troubling her too much she would make an apple turnover. When he rang in to check what supplies she needed, she would tell him cream. ‘I’ve got a little surprise for you tonight,’ she planned to say. He nearly always knew it would be apple turnover, though sometimes, just to trick him, she did steamed pud and custard sauce. He liked it just about as well.

  She arranged herself comfortably in her chair, back straight, both arms lying along the sides of her La-Zi-Boy recliner, a nice sense of balance all over. She pressed the lever so that her feet shot up on the foot rest.

  When the doorbell rang, her look was grim. At first she decided to ignore it, but it went on and on. Besides, one needed to know who was lurking around the house. Putting her eye to the spyhole in the door, she saw the woman outside. For a moment she panicked, wondering if she should ring the station and get hold of Teddy.

  She knew about this woman, pure evil, Teddy had told her, and she believed him. One of the loonies. One of the spoilers. She drew herself upright and opened the door. It was only yesterday she had see
n her hanging around next door.

  ‘I told you not to bother coming here,’ she said to Rose.

  ‘I want to see Teddy O’Meara,’ Rose said.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘You know who I mean.’

  ‘You’re trespassing. I’ll call the police if you don’t leave.’

  ‘He lives here, doesn’t he?’

  ‘Nobody lives here except me.’

  ‘A man with very important work. You told my friend.’

  ‘Her. She got what she deserved.’

  ‘You remember, then?’

  ‘He’s gone.’

  ‘Who’s gone, Mrs Marment?’

  ‘Go away.’

  ‘His socks were on the line yesterday morning.’

  ‘You’re a spy. Everybody knows you’re a communist.’

  ‘I’m coming inside, Mrs Marment. I’ll wait here till he comes.’

  ‘No.’ Mrs Marment lunged across the doorway. Then she stood back. ‘Oh come in, if you wish.’ Her eyes glittered.

  Rose hesitated, saw the trap. ‘I’ll wait outside.’

  ‘You’ll still be trespassing.’

  ‘We’ll have to see about that.’

  ‘I won’t have it, not on my doorstep,’ cried Mrs Marment, provoked into shouting. ‘Teddy’ll take you away, you’ll see.’

  Suddenly her face lit up at the sight of something behind Rose.

  ‘Time to go, Mrs Kendall,’ Teddy O’Meara said, advancing towards her. His eyes were very cold.

  She opened her mouth to say something.

  ‘I’m going,’ she said. He followed her, his face inches from her own, his feet tripping at her ankles when she turned to run.

  ‘No, don’t touch me.’

  ‘You’re in trouble,’ he said.

  She stopped, looked back to him. ‘I know things,’ she said. Her fingers were bunched to her mouth like a child’s.

  ‘So do I.’ He caught her wrist. ‘Why don’t you come inside then?’ He looked at his landlady and grinned. ‘What do you reckon, Mrs M?’

  ‘We can fix her,’ she called. Her face was alight with pleasure.

  ‘You’re crazy,’ Rose gasped, pulling with all her strength.

  Then Nick was alongside the house, honking as they had arranged.

  She ran the rest of the way down the path, choking on her breath, her arm stinging where he had held it, and threw herself into Nick’s car.

  ‘Go.’

  ‘He won’t follow us.’ Nick’s pale skin was flushed and his eyes gleamed with excitement and fear.

  ‘He might.’

  Teddy was, indeed, following. A few moments later, his Laser nudged up behind them as they rounded the corner of Power Street, just before the telephone box. Nick swerved, mounted the footpath, and narrowly avoided the phone box, pulling away as Teddy followed suit, crashing to a halt inches away from it and reversing.

  ‘Caught by his own phone box,’ said Nick, elated.

  ‘It’s not funny, Nick.’

  But it had given Nick a burst of courage and he roared down the road intersecting Blake Pass and on to the main road leading into town.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Glancing behind her, she saw Teddy’s car coming up behind them again.

  ‘To the cops,’ said Nick. He had stopped laughing.

  ‘Why did you do it?’ Jeffrey Campbell’s voice shook with anger.

  ‘I had to do something.’

  He folded his arms across his chest. ‘You’ve wrecked it. We were almost ready to move.’

  ‘You mean you knew?’ She stared at him.

  ‘It’s just been reported.’

  ‘By whom? Who to?’ As she sat watching him, understanding before he answered, she felt a deep sickness, all the bitterness and anger of the past year welling up inside her. Her eyes filled with tears; she felt her face go crimson with a rage that more than matched his.

  ‘You’ve been very helpful, Mr Newbone,’ said Campbell.

  Nick stood awkwardly, seeing himself dismissed.

  ‘Mrs Kendall will have to talk to CIB. It’s out of my hands now. Thank you, Mr Newbone.’

  When Nick was gone, Campbell sighed.

  Close up, Rose could see the puffy pouches under the sallow skin, a permanent chapped look around the corners of his eyes as if he lay in bed at nights rubbing them. Large freckles stood out on the backs of his hands. He must be fifty-three or fifty-four, she supposed.

  ‘Investigations within the police force aren’t easy, Mrs Kendall. An independent officer from outside the station is to be called in to assess what evidence we have.’

  ‘What is the evidence?’

  ‘I can’t tell you it all at the moment.’

  ‘Why not? It’s my case.’

  ‘That’s not the point.’

  ‘Then what is? I’ve told you everything I know.’ She and Nick had spent an hour laying out all the information that they had accumulated, ending with O’Meara chasing them through the streets.

  ‘I’m trying to explain. Since I last saw you some other information has also come to me. It may be enough to convict O’Meara of minor offences and put him out of the force.’ He raised his hand, seeing the look on her face. ‘He’s thought all of this through and taken measures to protect himself. Your friend, Mr Newbone, was correct when he said that O’Meara has been perfectly placed to harass you without detection. Piece by piece, one shred of evidence sifted out from another, there is almost nothing to go on, unless he gets too confident. Or he’s pushed, which is what I would like to do if I knew how and where to apply the pressure. But now … Petty criminal acts, perhaps, but nothing that would really put him out of circulation. I nearly had him when your friends and relatives took up trade at the bottom of your garden, but he got away on me.’

  ‘You think they’re the second strings, then?’

  ‘They have to be.’

  ‘And my niece?’

  He shrugged. ‘Who knows?’

  ‘And you’ve got no proof?’

  ‘Not enough. Not a fingerprint. My word against his. Sure, we could go and turn your niece’s and her boyfriend’s caravan over, or their mate Jason’s, and sure as God made little apples I’d find a bit of dope there, perhaps some stolen property, probably some weapons — but what does that prove about O’Meara? Tell me?’

  He sat back. ‘In order to put him away I have to have a bigger hook than phone calls.’

  ‘What about my dog?’

  ‘Who did it? Him? Gary? You don’t know.’

  ‘It couldn’t have been Gary.’

  ‘That time.’

  ‘My car?’

  ‘Sure, nobody’d notice him throwing a bit of paint stripper out of a police car. Perfect alibi, a police car. Policemen in police cars are always going about legitimate business — or so we’d tell you, and that’s what the people, them, out there, that’s what they think, unless they see us doing otherwise. Oh sometimes they’ll tell you they saw one speeding, or there’ll be a nasty accident and everyone will say how badly the police drive and how they didn’t have their flashing lights on, or their siren going, all of that. But to most people, police cars and their occupants go around preventing crimes not committing them. You prove to me that there was a tin of paint stripper in a police car one night six or seven months back. Eh? Where’s your evidence?’

  ‘I don’t think there’s much point in this conversation. This is all stacked against me.’

  ‘There’s real crime in this town, Mrs Kendall. Murders, muggings, rapes.’

  ‘Oh yes, attempted murder too. My sister. Well, you’ve got her.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘I’ll tell you what, I’m sorry she missed Mungo Lord.’

  Shocked at herself, she glared at Campbell, gathering up her handbag and half rising before he spoke again.

  ‘Wait, Mrs Kendall. Please.’

  Reluctantly she sat, still clutching her purse, leaning forward on the edge of her chair.

  ‘I am totally frust
rated, Mrs Kendall. I don’t want him here any more than you do. Who can fight crime, deflect its course, undermine its intent, when the corruption lies within? It’s not an original dilemma, I assure you, but it is new to me. And I don’t even know why he’s doing it Mrs Kendall. Do you?’

  As she turned her gaze on him, he thought to himself that she was not a pretty woman, only moderately attractive, although she might become handsome in time as some ageing women do; nor was she always sensible, or even very clever. But she wore an air of determined courage, and she was a thoughtful person, who did well enough, especially when her head had charge of her heart; she was kindly and stood up for what she believed in, even if it took her time to formulate just what those beliefs were. He would describe her, and this came as something of a surprise to him, as unswerving.

  ‘It is coming clearer,’ she said. ‘I have an idea.’

  He gave the slightest nod. ‘I thought you might.’

  ‘What do you want me to do?’

  He rubbed an imaginary piece of fluff between his fingers. ‘I want you to talk to CIB. I think they’ll ask you to go to the house and just wait.’

  ‘Wait? I can’t do that.’

  ‘Somebody will be with you.’

  ‘You?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘How will I know I can trust them?’

  He flinched. ‘We’ll do the best we can.’

  ‘What am I waiting for?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Seeing her look, he added, ‘It might have been a phone call to begin with. But that won’t happen now.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I can see I’ve frightened him off.’ Absurd as it seemed; it was what she had wanted so much.