Tumble Creek

by Louise Forster

  ‘Okay, I’ll be frank,’ Brock began.

  Sofie snort-giggled.

  The lines between his eyebrows deepened. He didn’t look happy. ‘Want to let me in on the joke?’

  ‘No, it’s too lame.’

  ‘I won’t pass judgement,’ he said, matter-of-factly.

  ‘Okay,’ she giggled again. ‘I was … no I can’t. You’ll think I’m weird, but after saving my dignity the other day you probably already think that.’

  ‘The vibr—’ Sofie slapped a hand over his mouth.

  ‘Yes, thank you for that.’ Gazing at her hand, she very much liked touching his skin, his mouth, his face, and reluctantly pulled away.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ he murmured. ‘You needn’t be embarrassed about that. At least you’re not looking for it elsewhere.’

  ‘Oh …’ She withered inside, and it was painful, which pissed her right the hell off. She glared at him, long and hard.

  He pulled a ‘what-the’ face, and she didn’t care.

  Then he went all serious police officer mode, with a deep scary voice and dark narrowed eyes to match. ‘Here’s the deal—your house was smashed. The driver’s disappeared. Britt’s house has been trashed by professionals to scare Britt, they were also looking for something. You received a parcel, don’t know who it’s from or what’s in it. It’s at the station in my tool box—in the garage. No one’s touching it until forensics are done. I’ve tried to be nice about it, but with all that’s been happening, Sofie Dove, you’re staying with me,’ he ordered.

  ‘I’m what? But it’s just a parcel … surely?’ Sofie squeaked, losing some of her bravado and hating herself for it.

  Brock gave her a look but didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.

  Nevertheless, the way he’d been treating her, no way was she staying with him in the same house. Back straight, chin up, she looked him in the eyes and categorically stated, ‘No thanks, I’ll be fine on the couch.’

  ‘I don’t think you understand me.’ Brock took a deep breath and looked intense, or maybe it was his way of concentrating; anyway, he edged closer, barely inches from her face. He was going to tell her something she wasn’t going to like, at all; she could see it in his bearing, his body language screamed brace yourself. She didn’t have to think about it, instinctively her body locked in readiness. ‘I didn’t want to worry you, but from what we can gather, the back part of your house was also ransacked. My guess is they took off when the truck ploughed through before they could get to the rest of your house. With the evidence we have so far, they did not do both. So, there are a few things you have to consider: Professionals ransacked your friend Britt’s place, did the same people ransack yours? Something tells me in a cop-gut way, they did. It’s possible whoever’s behind it thinks your involvement with Britt means that you could be hiding something for her. Did Britt give you anything to keep safe? A USB to share photos, but was there something else on the stick?’

  ‘No she didn’t give me a damn thing except her friendship, a friendship like any other in town.’ Sofie refused to feel vulnerable, straightened her back and told him, ‘Couldn’t the truck have shuddered everything all over the place? And anyway, Claud’s bedroom is at the back, teenagers live in mess!’

  ‘You have a point, but …’ he trailed off, an uneasy expression on his face.

  Shit, was he hiding something? ‘There’s more, isn’t there?’

  ‘Yeah. It’s only partly that sort of mess—’

  ‘Partly?’ Sofie cut in, mother tigress rising. ‘What other sort is there?!’

  ‘Did you have spray paint in your house?’

  Heart pounding, Sofie gasped, felt the blood draining from her face. ‘Y-yes, under the laundry sink. Cerise, I used it to spray a chair for Claud,’ she said, her voice a dry whisper.

  Brock hesitated before reaching for her hands and holding them in a firm grip.

  ‘Brock!’ Trembling, Sofie needed answers now.

  ‘They scrawled a message in the back room of your house. It said, “No cops. Keep your mouth shut”. Unless they’re total morons, they wouldn’t have written that and then ploughed a truck through your house, which would mean a police investigation.’

  Wide-eyed, Sofie pulled her hands up, taking his with them to cover her mouth and stifle the cry that lodged in her throat.

  Brock prised her hands away, but didn’t let go. ‘Look, you were friends with Britt, but whoever did this doesn’t know that’s all it was. They also don’t give a shit and might hurt you to keep your mouth shut, just in case. We don’t know a lot except that Britt is a person of interest with the fraud squad.’ He took a breath. ‘I’m not saying this to scare you for the hell of it. I hope I’m getting through that it’s important.’

  ‘Oh my God!’ Sofie cried out, horrified. It couldn’t be right, it just couldn’t.

  ‘Person of interest doesn’t mean she’s guilty of anything. It just means they need to speak to her. You know as much as I do now. And you’re staying with me.’

  ‘Listen …’ Sofie tried to control her misplaced anger, but a gamut of emotions fought for supremacy. It was fear that won and made her temper rise. She jabbed him in the chest. ‘This whole thing is utter bullshit! Thugs aren’t going to mess with my life and make me jump at shadows. So, thank you for your offer, but I’m perfectly safe above the restaurant!’

  Scoobie raised his big body off the lawn, sauntered over to her and sat on her feet, tail swishing back and forth. Head tilted back so he could look into Sofie’s face, he gave her a doggy grin. Her mood changed instantly. She patted the top of his head, and ruffled his ears, mumbling, ‘It’s all right, Scoobie, you’re a good boy.’

  ‘Sofe?’ Brock called, demanding her attention. ‘You’re not thinking logically. I didn’t bring this down on you, neither did Britt!’

  She thumped his arm. ‘I’m not blaming anyone!’

  ‘I think I’ll arrest you for assaulting a police officer, take you into protective custody,’ he said, looking at his boots, silently shaking with laughter.

  Scoobie poked his nose at her arm, then laid his big head on her lap, eyes darting between her and Brock.

  ‘What’s up, Sarge?’ Brock asked, scratching the dog under his jaw. ‘You know I’m right, yeah?’

  ‘Sarge?’ Sofie asked.

  ‘Yep, starts with an S, less confusing.’ Brock turned to face the street, and stood up just as a police car parked at the kerb.

  Takumi uncurled his tall frame out of the car and strode towards them carrying police crime-scene tape. ‘G’day,’ he said to Sofie, ‘You need to move your car, have to tape up the front yard. Britt’s place is off limits to everyone.’

  ‘Of course.’ Sofie went to her car and did as he asked. She came back to find the men in deep, serious, conversation. Sofie worried about staying with Brock, and what about Claudia, was she in danger as well? And Jennifer, Calum, Michelle … the whole town?

  ***

  Brock turned to see Sofie’s stricken face becoming a scary shade of grey, and jogged to her side. ‘What’s up, Sofe?—Sofe?!’ he urged a little stronger.

  Wild, frightened eyes stared at him, her hands flew to his chest and bunched his shirt in her fists. Sofie stammered, ‘Does this mean anyone associated with Britt – with me – is in danger? Claudia, Jennifer, Calum, Jeff from the bakery, the newsagent, you, and anyone I know?’

  Keeping a steady gaze on her worried face, Brock took his time to form an honest answer without scary the pants off her. He hated this fucked-up shit happening to Sofie, an innocent.

  ‘I can’t tell what they’re thinking, but going by what you’re asking, they’d have to take on the whole town.’ He shook his head. ‘I understand your concern, and—’

  Sofie cut in, ‘Do you have kids?’

  An unexpected pang of regret caught Brock by surprise, something he couldn’t explore right this minute. Nevertheless, it’d be a miracle if he did have any. He shook his head. ‘No.’


  ‘Apart from Jen, Claudia is all I have. I need my family to be safe!’

  Takumi had finished taping and came over to join them. Brock wished he’d let him handle this without interruption. He turned to give Takumi a warning look before turning back to Sofie.

  ‘I was about to say, Claudia is welcome to stay at my place as well.’

  Overwhelmed by his offer, Sofie’s face softened; tears welled but she blinked them back.

  Tough girl not letting her emotions get the better of her. Brock’s mouth twitched, and he fought hard to keep the grin at bay. He didn’t want Sofie to get the wrong idea and think he was laughing at her. It was simply that he felt extremely proud of Sofie Dove right now.

  ‘Thank you, I would very much like to take you up on your offer.’

  Relief flooded his chest, bringing with it a new sensation, something he hadn’t experienced in a very long time: a deep heartache. What the hell? It took every ounce of effort to keep his hands to himself and not haul Sofie into his arms. ‘G-good … I’m glad. Don’t worry about Jennifer. Veronica’s has excellent security, plus Calum’s there every night.’

  ‘So I may as well stay there then?’ Sofie suggested.

  ‘No, we have something better: a big dog, and me.’ He grinned.

  ***

  Sofie hurried through the restaurant’s back gate, down the short windy red-brick path to the sunroom then upstairs to the living quarters, calling out, ‘Claud?’

  ‘In here,’ Claudia hollered from the kitchen.

  Sofie rushed across the hall. ‘Pack your things we’re staying …’ She stumbled to a stop just inside the door.

  ‘What things, I have no things,’ Claudia mumbled accusingly around a mouthful of toast, as if it was Sofie’s fault their house was demolished.

  Heart in her mouth, Sofie froze in the doorway. Claudia the ‘Goth Girl’ was back. It was as if someone had snapped their fingers and poof, there it was: white face, stark black eye make-up, darkest red, almost black, lipstick and black clothes.

  ‘What’re you doing?’ Sofie whispered, voice trembling.

  ‘Mum, I’m eating.’ She made an elaborate eye-roll, as if to say, are you blind or something?

  ‘I can see that, what’s with the make-up?’ Uncontrollable emotions swirled inside Sofie; a few took hold, squeezing her chest: anger, sorrow, despair. Logic told her that it wasn’t her fault a truck demolished their home. Nevertheless, guilt festered just the same.

  Claudia’s back stiffened, her expression became belligerent, she glared and then snarled, ‘I can do whatever I want.’

  Oh-oh! This was not going well.

  ‘Up to a point, yes. Otherwise I’m your mum, and mums worry. It’s our right. It’s tattooed on our brains!’ Sofie walked in and gripped the back of a kitchen chair for support. She had a fair idea what had brought this on: because of a reckless idiot, her sweet girl had regressed, and was once again hiding behind a mask. It frustrated Sofie that she couldn’t come up with a solution to help her through it. She wanted to hold her, tell her everything would be all right. It was just a house. At least she could do the holding part. Too bad if Claudia thought it was weird and backed off. With a few forceful strides, Sofie pulled Claudia into her arms and held her tightly.

  ‘Mum, what’re you doing?’ Claudia complained, as her body went rigid. Sofie ignored her protestations and kept hugging. Little by little, Claudia began to relax and, after a few deep breaths, she asked, ‘What’s up, Mum? Why all the hugging?’

  ‘No reason, I love you, that’s all.’ Sofie manoeuvred Claudia out of the kitchen and down the hall to their room and ensuite. With an arm firmly around her waist, Sofie twisted her to face the mirror and demanded, ‘Look at yourself, sweetheart.’ Claudia turned her head to the side. ‘Yesterday you were fresh, young and happy.’

  ‘You mean normal,’ Claudia muttered, angry and resentful.

  ‘You’re more normal than most other teenagers, and more mature. But that’s not what this is about.’

  Frowning, Claudia pressed her lips together and turned away from the mirror; grumbling incoherently she shoved her arms across her chest.

  ‘What happened to our house has nothing to do with the past and your Dad leaving us to fend for ourselves while he went off with Miss Universe, or whatever the hell she was. And anyway, you know as well as I do that she’s fake and you’re real. We’re free of that now. Sure it was a massive shock, but its just a house, as you said, not a very good one. Just sticks, plaster and glass. As soon as it’s safe, we can get all our precious things. Anything you want to keep, but can’t fit in your room, we’ll put in storage. The house will have to be demolished. It’s a huge and beautiful block of land, over half an acre, with a lovely established back garden and mature trees. I’m not giving that up, okay? As you said before the reality of what happened really hit you, this is a great opportunity to build something amazing.’

  Tears, tracking black mascara, rolled down Claudia’s face. She raised her head and nodded.

  ‘I’m so glad you agree. I don’t want to go back to Sydney.’

  Horrified, and eyes like a terrified cat, Claudia’s chin dropped. ‘I don’t want to go back either! I love it here. Michelle is the best friend I’ve ever had, we laugh all the time, especially at Bret. We’re decorating the Christmas in July theme together for the restaurant’s window.’

  ‘Okay—I get it, we’re staying. Good, you can help me design a new home? Research it for me?’ Sofie gently wiped Claudia’s tears, adding mascara smudges to the tracks across her white face. ‘I don’t care if you think it’s blackmail, Claud, I want my girl back. I want to see your beautiful skin, your face, your amazing eyes that always show me how you’re feeling.’

  Claudia pulled back and covered her cheeks as if hanging onto her mask. Sofie let her, but only far enough to allow her some breathing space.

  ‘Honey, if this is a fashion statement, fine. I have no problem with that. But it’s not, is it?’ Sofie waited for a response.

  Staring at her reflection now, Claudia took a deep breath. ‘No … not a fashion statement.’ With trembling fingers, she grabbed some tissues and make-up remover, and started cleaning her face.

  ‘There’s my girl. No more hiding behind that paint.’

  Claudia grabbed another bunch of tissues and blew her nose. Voice muffled, she said, ‘On your way to the kitchen, there was something you were going to tell me; it’s not more crap, is it?’

  ‘Well, maybe just a little.’

  Claudia rolled her eyes and looked at the ceiling, mumbling, ‘Now what?’

  Sofie really had to be careful how she worded this. ‘Claud, it’s going to be okay, we’ve got it sorted. But first, I just can’t sleep with you. I don’t get any rest. I reckon you dream you’re an athletic superstar, throwing javelins, jumping hurdles every night. I was going to make arrangements to stay at Britt’s, but because she’s kinda missing, and—’ Sadly, there was no way she could soften her news; she tried but couldn’t think of a thing. She’d learned from past experience that honesty was the only way, besides, people talk, gossip gets around especially with high school girls. Sofie reached for Claudia’s hands, held them close to her chest, and tried to ignore her daughter’s growing alarm. Okay, here goes. ‘Britt’s place was ransacked.’ Wide-eyed, angry and frightened, Claudia gasped and tugged her hands to free them, but Sofie held on. ‘No, listen. Brock said whoever did it were professionals looking for something Britt has hidden.’ She took a deep breath and carefully added, ‘Someone also ransacked the back of our house and painted a message on the wall not to contact police. Because I was friends with Britt they think there’s a connection. In any case, we can’t stay at Britt’s like I hoped, and I can’t get a hotel booking either. So Brock invited us to stay at his house for a little while. Are you okay with that?’

  Claudia’s pretty face screwed up like she smelled something truly disgusting. ‘What?!’ Then her mouth fell open and her face paled as scarie
r information filtered through. ‘Someone wrote crap on our house?’

  ‘Yes, sweetheart. But Claud, listen, we’ll be safe with Brock. He’s well liked in the community, he has a three-bedroom house and he’s hardly ever there.’ Her heart wanted that to be a lie but for her own peace of mind she hoped it was true. The less she saw of him the better.

  Black and white make-up smeared all over her face, Claudia backed away. Hands on hips she readied for a full-blown argument. ‘Mum!’ Claudia’s voice pitched higher, ‘The message said not to contact police and you want us to live with one! What is wrong with you?’

  ‘I see your point, sweetheart.’ Sofie placed a gently hand on Caludia’s shoulder. ‘Isn’t there a saying, keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer?’

  ‘That is so screwed up, Mum.’ Frowning, Claudia shook her head. ‘I have a lot of respect for Brock but—’

  ‘Oh, how come?’ Sofie cut in, curious. ‘You’ve barely said two words to him.’

  ‘The other day when I was walking through the park, he was sitting on a step at the bottom of the fancy band rotunda, he was talking to a kid who’d just been bullied. Building him up, spending time with him. At school the next day, I asked the kid what the detective wanted. He said that it would be difficult, but if he showed no reaction, the bullies would get bored. And to come to police boxing club Tuesday and Thursday after school.’ Claudia smiled, knowingly. ‘Then Brock, at the last disco night, he laughed and joked with a bunch of guys as he took their alcohol off them that they were trying to smuggle in. So, I have a lot of respect for Brock, but you can forget the idea of me living in his house—’ she waved her arms about, ‘—for who knows how long.’

  ‘But if he’s a great guy, why?’

  ‘Do you have any idea what staying with “The Rock”,’ she said, sarcastically wobbling her head from side to side, ‘would do to me at school? I’d be laughed at, a social pariah.’ She dramatically threw her hands in the air. ‘They’ll accuse me of spying or something ridiculous like that. No way. I’m staying right here,’ she finished, emphasising her stance by pointing to the floor.