He shrugged. ‘Maybe not. Or maybe they get two birds with one stone. Anyway . . .’ He sighed. ‘No one else on the property knows about her visa situation and she’ll kill me when she finds out I’ve told you . . . but I . . .’ He waved a hand around. ‘I just wanted to explain why I . . . you know . . .’
‘Sure. Thank you. I get it.’
From the kitchen, Charlie called out, a few words of babble. Anna stepped inside. Charlie had rolled onto her stomach, her legs tucked up beneath her. Anna smoothed the sheet over the girl and watched Pat through the window, draining his glass of beer. What if he asked them to pack up and leave? Where would they go?
Pat came into the kitchen and lifted the lid of the pot on the stove. ‘I’ll just heat up this rice and get you a plate of food. You look ready to drop.’
‘Thanks.’ She sat at the table.
Sabine appeared in the doorway, dripping, clothes plastered to her body, and her hair hanging in rats’ tails.
‘Smells good!’ Her smile was bright. ‘It’s wild out there!’ She spotted Charlie on the couch and whispered, ‘Oh, sorry. Didn’t see her.’
‘It’s okay,’ said Anna. ‘She seems to be fast asleep.’
Sabine pulled a towel from the cupboard by the bathroom door and disappeared into the bathroom. A few moments later she reappeared naked, her hair in a towel turban. Before Anna averted her eyes, she saw Sabine’s round belly. She was pregnant!
Anna’s face burned. Why hadn’t Pat said anything? Sabine walked through to the bedroom as Pat pulled another bottle of beer from the fridge.
Sabine re-emerged in a long t-shirt, her hair still up in the towel, as Pat tossed a green salad. Sabine sat beside Anna. ‘How do you like the beer?’
‘It’s good. Thank you. Do you want some?’ Anna tilted the beer bottle then realised she was offering a pregnant woman alcohol.
‘No.’ Sabine patted her stomach. ‘Not so good for this one.’
‘When’s your baby due?’ She tried to sound casual.
‘In three months, we think.’
‘Congratulations.’ Anna smiled at Sabine then turned to Pat. She felt her lips straining over her teeth; she wasn’t even sure if she was smiling.
Pat nodded back, blank-faced. ‘Thanks. Yeah.’ He smiled briefly. ‘It’s a bit of a surprise at my age.’
‘You are not that old,’ said Sabine. She turned to Anna and rolled her eyes. ‘He likes this idea of being an old man for some reason.’
Pat put the rice pot on the table. ‘I’m just trying to persuade you of my wisdom. Okay. Let’s eat. And feed the expectant mother.’ He briefly laid his hand on Anna’s shoulder.
Anna wondered if he’d told Sabine about the abortion. Or maybe he’d long forgotten about it.
Sabine lifted the lid of the pot and peered in. ‘How old is your girl, Anna?’
‘She’s five. But she’s not my girl.’
‘Oh?’ Sabine raised her eyebrows. With her hair bundled up in the towel, her face looked thinner and younger. She could be thirty.
Pat put a wooden bowl of salad on the table. ‘They need somewhere safe to be.’ He lowered his voice. ‘The girl is beaten badly by her father.’
‘Stepfather,’ said Anna.
‘I see,’ said Sabine. She glanced at Pat, her eyes wide.
‘Anna rescued her. The girl lives next door to her.’
‘Good on you,’ said Sabine. Her accent meant that Anna couldn’t tell if there was a note of irony. ‘So, you just picked her up and . . .’ Sabine lifted her hands in the air.
‘Yes.’
Sabine made an exaggerated frown and nodded her head. She seemed to be waiting for Anna to say something more.
‘I was afraid she’d be killed.’
Sabine turned to look at Charlie. She was silent for a moment then crossed to the couch, where she knelt and looked at the girl’s face and laid her hand tenderly on Charlie’s back. Pat watched her closely, and when Sabine glanced over at him, Anna couldn’t interpret the look they exchanged. Was Sabine thinking about the police?
Sabine sat back at the table and said, ‘So you made friends with the girl?’
‘Kind of . . . I don’t know her very well, actually,’ said Anna. ‘They only moved in a couple of weeks ago.’
Pat served a spoon of rice onto each plate and Anna picked up her fork. Her chair seemed to tilt under her.
‘You know what?’ she said. ‘I think I need to go to bed now. Sorry, I can’t eat.’
She stood and the floor felt like soft sand. Everything that had been solid and steadfast about her life was gone. All she had now was Pat and Sabine, and they didn’t feel particularly solid. And all Charlie had was Anna. Panic nudged at her.
‘Sure you don’t want some dinner?’ asked Pat.
She shook her head. She couldn’t speak. Her body was grinding to a stop.
Pat put down the serving spoon.
‘I’ll carry Charlie.’
Chapter Fourteen
Anna scissored her feet between the clean sheets. She’d been waiting to lie down like this for days, it seemed. Beside her, Charlie slept on her back, the toy rabbit under her good arm where Pat had tucked it.
Anna closed her eyes and waited for sleep to pull her down, but her mind was still skittering about. She couldn’t back out now. She was squarely in it. And what if Pat asked them to go? She and Charlie were clearly a complication he didn’t need. She took a long shaky breath. Tomorrow she’d figure out the way forward.
She tried to focus on the rumble of the rain on the roof and the regular plink plink from the drip bucket in the corner. She pictured the miles of cocooning bush around the house. Seventeen years ago Pat had shown her an aerial photo of the area and pointed out the tiny speck that was his house. She was taken aback by just how much bush surrounded his place. The bright green of the camphors and the muted green of native bush stretched in all directions. The road – which seemed like the lifeline of the area when you were driving on it – could barely be seen in some parts of the photo; it appeared as a thin brownish stripe at creek crossings or alongside cleared paddocks. Pat and Anna had leant over the photo, and Pat explained with glee how many houses and huts couldn’t be seen. Some houses were shielded by trees, others were built precisely so they were hidden from view. Lots of people moved to the area to hide – from society, from the authorities or an ex-wife – and used the network of barely passable dirt tracks that appeared on no map.
If Pat wouldn’t let them stay, surely she could find someone willing to rent her a caravan or shed, somewhere she and Charlie could hunker down for a few weeks?
Her first step would be to persuade Pat that the police weren’t on her tail. It was unlikely her dad would think of Pat, and if he did, she was pretty sure he wouldn’t mention it to the police. Once her dad found a big stash of dope in Luke’s room, and sat Luke down and quietly talked him through all the ways that dope would mess up his life. Then he stood by the toilet as Luke flushed it away. He didn’t, at any point, threaten to report Luke to the police.
She pictured detectives turning up at her dad’s neat brick house and treating him with the respect due to retired coppers, but quizzing him about where Anna might have gone. The young cops would stand around his ancient answering machine, listening to her message, and her dad would recount what she’d told him about the violence in Charlie’s house, and he’d try – in his measured way – to convince them she’d done it with the best of intentions. And Dave would tell them about the night they heard Charlie screaming.
Anna just had to stay hidden long enough for the police and FACS to join the dots and investigate what was happening in Charlie’s home. Anna didn’t know what that would mean for Charlie. The girl might end up in a foster family, and Anna had heard enough to know how badly that could go.
Or perhaps the worst had already happened. Nothing could be worse, surely, than Charlie trapped in that house with Harlan and Gabby, lying terrified in that room, empty but for the piss-soaked mattre
ss and clothes all over the floor.
The outside light came on, and Pat or Sabine dragged a chair over the verandah boards. Smoke from Pat’s spliff drifted in the open bedroom window. Anna couldn’t hear what Pat and Sabine were saying, but it sounded tense.
Charlie shifted in her sleep and rolled to face Anna. Her warm breath brushed Anna’s cheek. Such short, rapid breaths. Anna counted them, hoping it might help her fall asleep. When she was five, her parents gave her a guinea pig, and every afternoon she’d lie on the grass beside the hutch, counting its breaths. She had a faint memory of her mother coming out to lie with her in the backyard, smoking a cigarette and looking up into the liquidambar tree. Or maybe Anna just wished her mother had been there with her. She was sure though, that it was her mum who told her that the faster an animal’s heartbeat, the shorter its lifespan. Which made Anna worry because when she lay her head on her mother’s breast, she heard the steady ba-boom, ba-boom, so much slower than Anna’s own heartbeat. Anna had been worried about her own death when it was her mother’s death she should have been preparing for.
•
Anna jolted from sleep to Charlie crying and thrashing about. She found the girl’s small shoulder in the dark.
‘I’m here, Charlie. It’s Anna. I’m right here.’
‘No! No!’ the girl cried out, and gripped Anna around the neck. She pressed her face hard against the side of Anna’s head and sobbed, ‘Mummy, Mummy.’
Anna held the small, warm body close until the crying abated and the girl’s limbs relaxed. She felt like an imposter; was Charlie falling back to sleep imagining that it was Gabby holding her?
Anna pushed the mosquito net to one side and made her way to the dark bathroom. The rain had stopped, and there was just the occasional scatter of drops on the roof, blown from the trees, and a loud chorus of frogs.
She sat on the toilet and pictured her dad sleeping in his neat, spartan bedroom. He might even be awake that very moment, thinking of Anna and worrying.
‘Hi, Dad,’ she whispered.
There must be a way to phone him, to tell him she was okay. The cops might be monitoring his mobile and home phone, but she could call him at his pub or the squash courts where he played twice a week.
Back in the bedroom she picked up Charlie. ‘I’m going to take you to do a wee.’ The sarong slipped to the floor.
The girl flopped onto Anna, who had to keep an arm around her back to stop her falling backwards. In the bathroom, she perched Charlie on the toilet and held her upper arms. After a moment, there was the trickle of urine. Anna’s dad used to take her to the toilet at night and turn the tap on, and say in a sing-songy voice, ‘A big wee, a big wee’.
Anna’s mum must have taken her to the toilet at night too, but Anna had no memory of it. Anna had so few memories of her mother, and her dad refused to share his.
Back in the bedroom, she tried to arrange the sarong around Charlie but gave up.
Was it possible that her dad would tell the cops all the places Anna might be, just because he wanted her to be found? She must telephone him. She wouldn’t tell him where she was but she could reassure him she was fine. She pictured him lying in his bed right now, propped on the table beside him, the photo that her mum had taken of Luke and Anna on a picnic. He didn’t display photos of Anna or Luke taken after they were eight and ten years old, as if the day their mother died, he considered the whole family dead.
She ran her fingers over and over Charlie’s small forehead until she felt herself sinking into sleep, the girl’s head in the crook of her arm.
Chapter Fifteen
Someone wriggled against her.
‘What’s that?’ said a small voice.
‘What?’ Anna struggled to sit up and took a couple of seconds to realise she was at Pat’s with Charlie. Oh God.
The bedroom was bright and filled with the sounds of birds, their carolling, strident, overlapping calls.
‘What’s that noise?’ said Charlie, squinting towards the window, one hand gripping Bunny tightly.
‘Birds. It’s the birds,’ Anna said and flopped back on the pillow. Her body ached. She needed more sleep. She closed her eyes. Just let me sleep some more.
Charlie tapped Anna’s arm. ‘Why are they making that noise?’
‘They’re saying good morning but they’re very loud, aren’t they?’ said Anna.
Someone was walking about in the kitchen. Let it be Pat. She hoped he’d wait until after breakfast to say whether they could stay.
‘I’m really hungry,’ said Charlie and Anna caught the smell of her breath. She had to find them both toothbrushes.
‘Me, too. Let’s get some breakfast.’
Anna sat up and swung out of bed. Her legs were shaky when they hit the floor. God, she needed more rest.
Charlie slid off the bed, seemingly untroubled that she was naked but for the bandage. Anna found the sarong on the floor beside the drip bucket, and looped the ends around the girl’s neck so it wouldn’t slip down.
Anna hesitated in the doorway when she saw that it was Sabine in the kitchen. Sabine stood at the table, pouring two cups of tea, her orange kimono-style dressing gown belted above the swell of her belly.
‘Good morning.’ Sabine smiled and nodded at the teapot. ‘Please help yourself to tea and breakfast. Or you could make coffee if you prefer.’
‘Thank you.’
Sabine carried the cups to the open bedroom door. Anna heard a rustle, and glimpsed a tangle of blue sheets. She rested her hand on the warm tea cosy. ‘Do you want toast, Charlie?’
The girl nodded and stood in the doorway of Pat’s bedroom, Bunny dangling from her hand.
‘Hello there.’ Pat’s voice was drowsy. ‘How did you sleep, Charlie? How’s your arm?’
The girl leant her shoulder against the door frame. ‘Hello.’
Sabine came back through the doorway and tousled Charlie’s hair.
‘Come over here,’ she said and carried her cup of tea to the couch.
Charlie followed Sabine and climbed onto her lap. Sabine put her cup on the floor and ran her fingers like a comb through Charlie’s hair.
‘Why not give her something more nutritious than toast and honey, Anna?’ She said Anna’s name the German way. Arna. ‘Porridge or eggs. Fruit and yoghurt. Muesli?’ She carefully teased a knot out of Charlie’s hair. Charlie sat quietly, watching Anna and rolling one of Bunny’s ears between her fingers.
‘Oh. Yes. Good idea.’
Anna put down the loaf of bread. Taking care of Charlie seemed to come naturally to Sabine. ‘Do you want eggs, Charlie?’
Charlie nodded.
Anna opened the fridge. Where were the eggs? She felt excruciatingly self-conscious with Sabine watching her.
‘Just help yourself. Make yourself at home,’ said Sabine.
‘Thank you.’ Anna found the egg carton. ‘Do you want scrambled eggs, Sabine?’
‘Always muesli for me.’ Sabine smiled. ‘It’s a German thing.’
Anna whisked three eggs in a bowl and dropped a knob of butter into a small cast-iron pan. She waited for it to melt and from the corner of her eye watched Sabine untangling Charlie’s hair and chatting to the girl about the rain in the night. Anna tipped the bright yellow eggs into the pan and wished Pat would come out.
‘I’ve got something to show you,’ said Sabine and led Charlie outside.
Could Anna leave Charlie with Sabine? No, that was mad. Anna would still be on the run. She exhaled a long breath and made herself concentrate on stirring the eggs. She had to prioritise. Food. Shelter. Figure out a way to call her dad, and make a plan for how long to stay away.
Sabine and Charlie reappeared with a small bunch of parsley that Sabine laid on the bench beside the stove. Charlie – with a dandelion tucked behind one ear – handed Anna a sprig of parsley.
Sabine dropped onto the couch and beckoned Charlie.
‘Anna, we would like to find out what’s in the news about you.’ Her voi
ce was loud. ‘To know if the police suspect you are in this area.’
Dismay washed through Anna. Why on earth was Sabine having this conversation in front of Charlie, and why was Pat making Sabine do the dirty work? He must be lying there listening.
‘Okay,’ she said.
Charlie knelt on the couch beside Sabine and untied the bow in Sabine’s dressing-gown belt. ‘Can I have this?’ she asked.
Sabine pulled the belt from its loops and handed it to Charlie. Sabine wore a singlet that had ridden up over her compact, round belly.
‘But there’s no reason for them to suspect.’ Anna stirred the eggs as they thickened. ‘I was very careful.’
‘You would be surprised what they know, Arna. Honestly.’
Anna tried not to sigh. ‘Can we talk about this later?’ She tilted her head towards Charlie.
Sabine lifted one hand into the air. ‘We need to talk about it.’
Charlie came to stand beside Anna.
‘It’s hurting,’ she said quietly.
‘Okay. Sabine, do you mind stirring the eggs while I grab her some Panadol?’
‘Sure.’ Sabine heaved herself up from the low couch. ‘I’m afraid she gave her arm a little bump while we were picking the parsley.’
In the bedroom, the air was stale from the night. Anna slid open a window and found the Panadol in her handbag. She gave Charlie the half-pill and when they returned to the kitchen, Sabine was serving the eggs onto plates. They were a bit undercooked for Anna. She poured Charlie a glass of water to wash down the Panadol.
‘Our neighbour has a computer,’ said Sabine as she scraped the last of the eggs from the pan. ‘We can use it to check what the police are saying to the media. And I think they would say if they knew where you two are, so people would keep out an eye for you.’ She plucked the toast from the toaster. ‘Butter?’
‘Yes, please,’ said Anna. ‘Come and sit down, Charlie.’
Sabine deposited the two plates on the table. She’d sprinkled chopped parsley over the eggs. She looked steadily at Anna. ‘We cannot have them turning up here. I think Pat explained why.’
Promise Page 10
