‘What?’
‘My name. Holly. Not Hayley.’
‘Holly, Hayley, whatever,’ said Raph. ‘What’s your problem?’
‘You,’ said Holly. ‘You’re my problem.’
No one’s voice had been raised, but it seemed all the students in the schoolyard edged closer. They had an unerring instinct for conflict and drama. Something was going on.
Raph McDonald sneered. Just a small re-arrangement of his features, but it transformed his face. Holly couldn’t believe she had ever found him attractive. He frowned a little too, scrunching up his forehead as he searched for the right response.
‘Oh yeah?’ he said finally.
‘Yes,’ said Holly. ‘Do you remember me from yesterday?’
Raph’s face contorted again as he dredged his memory.
‘The cinema?’ prompted Holly.
‘Hey,’ he said. ‘You were the girl with the disabled chick, weren’t you? Look, Hayley,’ he said. ‘It was dark, right? I couldn’t see a thing. I didn’t realise it was you. And she was carrying on something chronic. We just wanted to enjoy the movie. And so yeah, maybe I said some things I shouldn’t.
I’m sorry, right. I apologise.’
‘Just a couple of things, Rolf,’ said Holly. ‘I’m not a stupid cow. And I wasn’t with a disabled chick. I was with my cousin Cassie who has cerebral palsy.’
Raph spread his hands.
‘That’s what I said.’
‘It isn’t. It’s not what you said at all. Think about it, Rolf. Better still, get someone else to think about it for you. Ask them to explain in words of one syllable.’
‘My name’s Raph.’
‘Raph, Rolf, whatever.’
By now, the circle of students had closed and there was silence all around. Raph glanced about him. His mates had stopped playing basketball and stood on the fringes of the crowd, listening.
‘Look,’ he said. ‘I’ve said sorry. Just relax. Get over it. It was no big deal.’
‘You know, Ralph,’ said Holly and the crowd leaned closer to catch what she said. She was very calm and her words were quiet. ‘There are organisms living under stones that are higher on the evolutionary ladder than you. Someone once suggested you have the brains of a brick, but that strikes me as an insult to masonry. Not only are you stupid, but you have the insight of a viral infection. You’re just not as much fun to be around. You’re pathetic.’
She had plenty more to say, but Mr Tillyard, the teacher on yard duty, was hurrying towards the crowd. He pushed his way through a tight wall of students, searching for the eye of the storm.
‘Break it up,’ he shouted. ‘Come on, break it up.’
But when he got to the gap in the middle, there was nothing to break up. Holly Holley and Raph McDonald turned to face him. Holly was calm and Raph was flushed, but there were no fists raised.
‘What’s going on here?’ he said.
No one replied.
The crowd started to disperse.
Raph twisted his face in concentration as Holly moved away. He glanced at his mates and made vague movements in the air with his hands.
‘Oh yeah?’ he said to Holly’s back.
Off to the side, Demi whispered to Kari and Georgia. ‘I told you she was interesting,’ she said.
‘I am a stupid cow, Amy,’ said Holly. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘No you aren’t,’ said Amy. ‘And I’m not sorry. It was fantastic. Particularly the bit about organisms under stones and the evolutionary ladder. See? You were paying attention in science classes.’
‘I meant I was a stupid cow to you.’
Amy chewed on her lip and glanced at the ground.
‘Well, I wouldn’t call it being stupid . . .’
‘Amy?’ said Holly. ‘Are we all right, you and me? Can you still be friends with a moody bitch, someone who dumps on her best friend, is silly and immature and selfish and insensitive? Because that’s how I’ve been. That’s how I am.’
Amy met Holly’s eyes. Then she twisted her face as if she were concentrating really hard and it was making her head ache. She made vague movements in the air with her hands.
‘Oh yeah?’ she finally said in a robotic voice.
Holly couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing.
Amy laughed too. And put her arms around Holly’s shoulders.
Cassie’s wheelchair was pushed up close to the kitchen table. Fern and Holly sat on either side. No one said anything. There was tension in the air. Holly stared at an interesting scar on the table’s surface and Cass’s head moved in lazy circles. A thin, strangled noise issued from her throat.
‘Here we are,’ said Ivy, bringing a large casserole dish from the oven and placing it firmly in the centre of the table. Keeping her oven gloves on, she removed the lid and put it in the sink where it hissed. ‘Eat up, everyone.’
Holly was the first to peer into the pot. She did so very carefully, as if whatever was lurking there might rise up and attach itself to her face. Like that creature in Alien. The thing was, the smell was different than normal. Not like something that had been buried in damp earth for a couple of months, but . . . well, ‘good’ was the word that sprang to mind. Actually very good.
There was potato. There was onion. There was broccoli and green beans. There was thick gravy. And, most amazing of all, there was chicken. Roughly chopped chicken breast mixed in with the vegetables. Holly looked blankly towards her mother.
‘What?’ said Ivy.
Holly looked back towards the casserole dish.
‘Just a chicken casserole,’ said Ivy. ‘I did myself a veggie version. This one’s for you three.’
Holly found her voice.
‘Where are the lentils?’ she asked.
‘You know?’ said her mother in a thoughtful tone of voice. ‘I’m getting just the teeniest, weeniest bit bored with lentils.’
If the words had been accompanied by a drumroll and an angelic chorus of ‘Hallelujah’ Holly would not have been surprised. She dived for the ladle, just beating Fern to it. The atmosphere around the table did a one-eighty degree turn. Fern hummed quietly, Holly whistled and Cass broke into a shriek of delight.
‘Anyone would think I didn’t feed you properly,’ said Ivy.
Holly washed the dishes and Fern dried. Cass sat in front of the television in the front room watching Bridezilla. Her shrieks of laughter punctuated the sounds of clinking crockery. After she’d wiped down the surfaces, Holly took a seat at the kitchen table opposite her mother.
‘Mum?’ she said.
‘Yes, chicken?’
‘Can I ask a huge favour?’
‘Well, you can ask.’
‘Can I go to Westland tomorrow after school? Just for an hour?’
Ivy put down her coffee cup.
‘Hey, Holly,’ she said. ‘You don’t want to push it, girl. Just because you’ve washed the dishes doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten or forgiven. It’s Monday evening. Just a few short days since you gave me the fright of my life. Your grounding is still in place.’
‘Yeah, I know. I just want one hour. That’s all. It’s important, Mum. Please. I swear. You can add the time onto my grounding. In fact, I’ll take another day if you just give me this one hour.’
Ivy stared at Holly. Though she tried to hide it, Holly saw the suspicion in her eyes.
‘What are you up to, chicken? Why do you want to go to Westland?’
‘Please?’
‘Tell me why.’
‘I can’t tell you, Mum. I can’t. You have to trust me. I have a good reason and it’s very important. If it’s okay with Aunty Fern, she and Cass could pick me up after exactly an hour. Would that be okay with you, Aunty Fern?’
Fern wiped her hands on the tea towel.
‘Fine by me. But only if your mother agrees.’
‘Please, Mum?’ Holly met her mother’s eyes and held them.
‘Okay,’ she said finally. ‘In exchange for another day. But I tell you, Hol
ly Holley. I have placed my faith in you. If you betray it, grounding would be the least of your worries. I’d have no punishment. But it would break my heart. Do you understand?’
‘Yes,’ said Holly. ‘I understand, Mum. And I won’t let you down. I swear.’
Fern
Holly went to watch the rest of Bridezilla with Cassie. Fern could hear the two of them laughing. She smiled at Ivy over her tea cup.
‘I got a phone call today,’ Fern said.
‘Oh yes?’
‘From James in Darwin.’
‘How is he?’
‘He’s moving down. In a few months. To stay. He’s organising a twelve-month leave of absence from his job, arranging to rent out our house there.’
‘Oh.’
‘Don’t worry, sis. He’s not coming here, he’s not coming to this house.’
‘Wow,’ said Ivy. ‘This must be a lot for you to take in.’
Fern pushed her cup away, laced the fingers of both hands together.
‘We had a good, long talk. He’s missing Cassie like crazy. And he says he understands why I left, but if he’s going to be miserable, he might as well be miserable down south. At least that way he can see Cass.’
‘How do you feel about that?’
Fern sighed.
‘I haven’t told Cass yet. Thought I’d save it as a nice bedtime surprise. As for me . . . well, I don’t know. He swears he isn’t interested in the front seat.’ She laughed. ‘Says he doesn’t even want the back seat. The boot will do him.’
‘Think there’s still room in your life for him?’
‘Who knows?’ said Fern. She rubbed at her forehead. ‘I guess all I can do is stick him in the boot and worry about the rest later.’
10
Holly
One hour wasn’t long to get everything done.
And Holly had already spent twenty minutes sitting on a bench outside the clothes shop, checking the place out. Casing the joint. She’d watched the staff move around the store, trying to detect a pattern. There were three assistants and one stayed close to the cash register. The other two helped customers or occasionally ducked out of sight through a door at the back of the shop, with ‘Staff Only’ written above it. But the more she watched, the more she understood there was no pattern.
This was stupid. She was wasting time. When it came down to it, there was only one course of action. Go in there and do it. But she was so scared. The last time she’d been in that shop, it had been wonderful. She’d had so much fun. But of course she hadn’t been a criminal then. This time, she couldn’t fool herself.
If this were a scene in a movie, it would have been easy. There would be huge, swivelling security cameras with flashing red lights. A cinch for the hero, or anti-hero, to identify and avoid or simply place a towel over the lenses. But Holly couldn’t even see the cameras. And she didn’t have a towel.
All she had was a sudden image of her face, in glorious and crystal-clear close-up, looming on a television screen in front of the startled gazes of her mum and Fern. And then the voice-over. ‘Police are anxious to trace the whereabouts of this person . . .’
She looked at her watch for the twentieth time. Thirty-five minutes left. And once she was done in there she still had another job to do. Definitely time to move. She tried to stand, but her legs wouldn’t work. So she checked her watch again. ‘Holly, just do it. In and out. Be confident.’ She felt an arm around her shoulders. ‘You can do it!’
Holly knew one thing. She couldn’t have done it without support.
Come to think about it, she wasn’t doing it, even with support. The hand on her shoulder moved down to between her shoulder blades. And shoved. Holly got up on wobbly legs.
‘Okay. I’m doing it,’ she said. ‘Look. If it comes to bail, I have some cash in a savings account. Tell Mum to use that. If bail isn’t an option, then . . .’
‘Go!’
‘Okay.’
She shifted the straps on her school backpack. They were digging into her shoulders. Then she moved into the store. If guilt-detectors had been invented, her entrance would have been greeted with sirens and red, flashing lights. As it was, she could feel the eyes of the world on her.
Fern
Fern applied the handbrake. She had parked in the shopping centre car park, but not in one of the designated disabled spots. Cassie hated parking there. She’d pointed out to her mother that, once in her wheelchair, it wasn’t a problem getting to entrances. And using a disabled spot was taking up space that someone else might need.
Fern thought that was very noble of her, particularly since Cassie wasn’t the one who had to push the wheelchair for considerable distances. She didn’t argue, though. Arguing with Cassie usually wasn’t worth the effort.
She unfolded the wheelchair and lifted Cass into it.
Holly
Demi, Kari and Georgia were sitting on the bench when Holly came out of the shop.
‘Hey, Holly,’ said Demi. ‘Success?’
‘Absolutely,’ Holly replied. ‘Piece of cake.’
‘We waited for you after school,’ said Georgia. ‘Thought you must have chickened out. But here you are. Fancy hanging together?’
‘Not really,’ said Holly. ‘Me and Amy have got things to do. I’ll catch you later.’
Amy got up from the bench and put an arm through Holly’s. They strolled away and didn’t look back.
‘Tell me what happened,’ said Amy. ‘I couldn’t see what you were doing in there.’
They hadn’t gone far. To another bench, in fact, outside a cosmetics shop. Holly shifted the empty backpack off her shoulders and dumped it on the floor.
‘God, I was so nervous,’ she said.
‘That much I knew,’ said Amy.
‘All the while I was in there, I thought someone would demand to see what was in my backpack. And that would have been just great. It would have been fun trying to explain that I was returning the clothes, not stealing them.’
‘So where did you leave it?’
‘I did learn something from Demi as it turns out. I picked up a skirt from the rails and then dropped it. As I crouched down to pick it up, I took the parcel out of my pack and tucked it under the rail. It was as close to the register as I could get without being spotted.’
‘There’s no chance they could miss it?’
‘No way. As soon as one of the salesgirls goes down that aisle she’ll trip over it.’
‘They won’t think it’s a bomb, or anything?’
‘It’s soft and squishy. Pretty unlikely.’
‘And you feel better?’
Holly gave the question some thought. ‘Better’ was too weak a word. Even ‘relief’ didn’t come close. She’d been carrying a heavy weight for days. The guilt of shoplifting. She couldn’t even look at the clothes tucked into her wardrobe. She kept the doors firmly shut. But she knew they were there. They called to her through the closed doors, pricking at her conscience. Now the weight was gone. She felt dizzy in its absence. She kicked at the backpack on the floor.
‘I feel lighter,’ she said.
Amy looked at the cosmetics shop.
‘Just one more thing,’ she said. ‘And then it’s over.’
Holly sighed. She wanted to remember what she had done, the choices she had made and how close she had come to ruining everything. She needed to remember.
Just one more thing.
The cosmetics. She couldn’t return them. Okay, there were a couple of items – a lipstick and a tube of foundation – that hadn’t been opened, but it wasn’t worth it. So she’d gone into the shop and priced all the items she’d taken. It totalled just over one hundred and ten dollars. At the ATM she had withdrawn two hundred dollars from her Plastic Surgery Emergency Fund.
Not that she called it that anymore. But she hadn’t had the chance to think up another name. There was plenty of time for that.
She’d stuffed one hundred and twenty dollars into an envelope, along with a shor
t note explaining why the money was there. It was similar to the note she’d put in the parcel of stolen clothing. She took the envelope from the pocket of her blazer, wrote the address of the shop on the front and attached a stamp. It was the easiest way of doing it. After all, she couldn’t just hand it over at the checkout. Not without risking identification. And as long as the money was returned, an extra day or two wouldn’t matter.
Holly and Amy walked to the post office. Holly took a deep breath. When the envelope slid into the slot, it was as if another weight lifted from her. Somehow it was easier to hold her head up.
She looked around at the shoppers milling past. She met the eyes of a few. It felt good.
It was Cassie who spotted them first. She gave a huge shriek and her arms waved frantically. Fern looked up. Holly and Amy were stepping away from a post box. She waved.
‘Hey, girls,’ she said. ‘Taxi’s here. Are you all done?’
Holly hugged her aunt. Amy crouched and said hello to Cassie. Fern smiled.
‘Aunty Fern,’ said Holly. ‘We’ve still got twenty-five minutes. Can we take Cassie for a burger? Please? Pretty please?’
‘Well . . .’
‘Pretty please with sugar on?’
‘You could come with us,’ added Amy. ‘Holly’s buying.’
Fern shook her head. ‘I’d feel a little out of place,’ she said.
‘Do you fancy a burger, Cass?’ said Holly.
It was easy to read Cassie’s reaction, but Fern translated anyway.
‘She says “fancy” isn’t the right word and “love” wouldn’t be going far enough.’ Fern sighed. ‘Go on, then. I’ll meet you back here in twenty-five minutes. And no longer. I said I’d pick your mum up from work and she’ll have my guts for garters if we’re late. Actually, she’ll have your guts for garters, Hol.’
‘Twenty-five. We’ll be here.’
Holly
‘Welcome to Burger Bonanza. Can I take your order?’
The girl behind the counter chewed gum as she rattled off the words in a monotone.
‘We’re still deciding,’ said Holly.
They’d wheeled Cassie up to the counter and were examining an illuminated board that showed the food available.
Cassie Page 11
