‘If you say, sir. And I should have told you from the beginning I was reporting to Superintendent Robinson.’
‘Didn’t Robinson order you not to?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘You couldn’t go against that,’ Cardilini said continuing walking.
‘But I feel I let you down. Sir, I don’t want to be the copper others don’t trust …’ Salt said earnestly, Cardilini turned to him, Salt continued, ‘… but I’m not sure how to go about it now, maybe, I should just …’
‘Going to university next year, aren’t you?’ Cardilini interrupting asked.
‘Yes, if …’
‘Make a good job of it. And come by to have a chat occasionally. That’s an order,’ Cardilini said firmly.
‘Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.’
Cardilini nodded and walked through the entrance.
Fifty-eight
‘Son.’
‘Dad.’
‘Tell me?’
Mr and Mrs Harper stood in the lounge of their farmhouse in Wongan Hills. They held the phone receiver between them. It was eight o’clock of the same evening Cardilini received his call from Robinson. Sundays, the boarders were allowed to ring home.
‘He was a third former,’ their elder son said.
‘A third former!’ The father looked to his wife.
‘What will happen?’ the mother asked her son.
‘The sixth formers broke it up. Carmody and Mohr were there. They didn’t even tell him off.’
‘But they told Abbott?’ the father asked.
‘No.’
‘They didn’t tell the boarding master,’ Mr Harper said to his wife.
‘What does that mean?’ she asked.
‘It means he won’t get into trouble,’ her husband replied.
‘Was he hurt?’ she asked into the mouthpiece.
‘No. Binder didn’t land a punch.’
‘Who’s Binder?’ she asked looking to her husband.
‘The third former, Binder’s a real ratbag,’ the son answered.
‘The boy he fought is a real ratbag,’ the husband repeated to his wife.
‘I don’t like him fighting, he’s too little,’ the mother said. A tear caught in her eyelash and she pushed at it impatiently. Another took its place.
‘It’s all right, isn’t it, son? He had to fight the boy. Isn’t that right, son?’
‘Everyone’s happy he did and Binder won’t do anything back, he got a big scare,’ their son said.
‘A big scare,’ the father repeated.
‘And how is he now?’ the mother asked.
‘He’s good. He got into trouble for going too fast in the dining room. He was on table duty,’ the son said.
‘He was getting the meals for his table. That’s good. That’s really good,’ the father said to his wife.
‘But how is he?’
‘He’s much better, like the little tiger moth again, Dad.’
‘The “little tiger moth”,’ his father repeated. ‘So he’s back with his friends?’
‘Yes. He’s brewing ginger beer.’
‘That’s good.’ the father told his son. He put the phone aside with his other hand over the mouthpiece. ‘It’s good, darling, it’s what we hoped.’
She nodded, pushed her husband’s hand from the mouthpiece and said to her son, ‘I don’t want him fighting.’
‘I’ll tell him. But you are proud of him for sticking up for himself?’ the boy asked.
‘As proud as punch,’ the father said.
‘As proud as punch, we’ll always be proud of you both, but I don’t want either of you fighting,’ the mother said.
‘There go the beeps,’ the son said.
‘Ring next weekend and have young tiger with you.’
‘Yes, Dad. Carmody is looking out for him now.’
‘I don’t like Carmody,’ the mother said.
‘Don’t you get involved with Carmody, son.’
‘As if, Dad. Bye.’
‘Give our love to Tiger. Thank you son. You be a good boy.’
‘Yes, Mum.’
The father hung up the receiver. His wife stepped away quickly, her back to him as she wiped her eyes.
‘It can only get better, darling. It can only get better.’
The wife turned accusingly. ‘I don’t want them fighting. I don’t care. I don’t want them to think that’s how they solve their problems.’
‘They’re not like that, really. But he stood up for himself against a bigger boy. That’s really important, that means the fog has lifted on our little tiger.’
‘I love you and my heart breaks for the Sheppards and Doneys and their boys. But the world can’t be like that, tiger’s not like that, he shouldn’t have to fight, you shouldn’t have had to … and the boys must never find out …’
‘Shh … shh … shh. That’s all over now. It’s all over.’
***
Midnight and Cardilini was asleep. Paul had returned from the drive-in and he, too, slept. The boy slept, his small frame even smaller under the sheet. He would wake on occasion with a start, sweating, believing he was late, and then he would sink back into his mattress thankful he would never be required again. Sheppard sat on the back verandah, his eyes blurred by tears. Masters sat alone in his study, his features distorted, his hands aimlessly shifting as he stared at a photo of himself, his wife and their son. Mrs Doney sat in her lounge in the darkness looking out to the night sky, a pain in her chest as if a heavy rock had been implanted there. Mrs Lockheed, tea towel and dish in hand, stood at her son’s bedroom door and listened to his whispering breath. Mr and Mrs Harper slept side by side. Mrs Harper would wake alarmed, thinking her youngest son was staring at her with unseeing eyes, then she would breathe deeply and whisper, ‘Thank you,’ to her sleeping husband.
Acknowledgements
Without my wife Rosalba’s encouragement, editing, and endless support I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to put in the hours required to write a novel. I am very thankful to Helen Budge, a fellow writer and poet, who worked with me on the initial drafts and spoke so positively of them, and to the readers Debbie Hedley, Margaret Pass, Tim Pass, Nadia Verrucci, and Imogen Woodward, whose encouraging comments gave me the belief in the novel to submit it to publishers.
I will be forever grateful to Angela Meyer of Echo Publishing for reading the unsolicited pages from an unknown writer and providing such positive feedback.
Robert Jeffreys has worked as an actor, teacher, builder, labourer, cleaner, real estate agent, personal security agent and playwright of the professionally produced stage plays Cox Four, Covert, The Simple Truth, and The Messenger. ABC Radio National featured his radio plays, Covert, which received an AWGIE award, and Bodily Harm. He has also published a poetry anthology, Frame of Mind. Robert’s debut novel, Man at the Window, is the first in the Detective Cardilini series, set in 1960s Western Australia.
Echo Publishing
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First published 2018
This ebook edition published 2018
Cover design by Nada Backovic
Cover image: Havden Verr
y / Arcangel
Page design and ebook creation by Shaun Jury
A catalogue record for this book is available from the National Library of Australia
ISBN: 9781760683306 (paperback)
ISBN: 9781760683375 (epub)
ISBN: 9781760683382 (mobi)
Man at the Window Page 30
