Intruder

by Christine Bongers

‘Al, you do know that I was a redhead before I dyed my hair black?’

  ‘REALLY?’

  ‘No, just messing with you. Sure, I can walk Sequoia. I’m almost at your place anyway.’

  ‘Thanks, Kat. The code’s IM007 to get in and her lead’s at the front door. See you.’

  He hung up before I could ask when, but that was okay, he was my boyfriend now, he’d keep.

  Thirty-One

  Walking Sequoia was sweaty work. She had a lot more energy than Herc, so I took her to the creek to cool off before dropping her back to Al’s. Since I still hadn’t heard from Jimmy, I texted him again.

  On my way home. Where are U??

  I needed to tackle him again about tonight, and convince him to stay home to help me catch the prowler. Herc would be released soon; the need to do something was becoming more urgent.

  For too long Jimmy and I had been coasting along in a holding pattern, doing nothing to threaten our fragile peace. Then the intruder had shattered it and we were still picking up the pieces. Everything was changing. I was changing. The old rules didn’t apply anymore; Jimmy had to understand that he couldn’t keep treating me like a child.

  Herc was important to me – and if I had to fight Jimmy to protect him, so be it.

  I pulled up outside Edwina’s house and looked at it – I mean really looked at it – for the first time in years. It was as though I was seeing it with fresh eyes. Seeing it as others saw it. For what it really was. Stripped free of the curses I had heaped on its owner since my mum died.

  I grasped the elegant wrought-iron gate with its state-of-the-art security system, and peered at the well-maintained home it protected. Up-to-date paintwork glowed in muted shades of eucalypt- and olive-greens, the verandah was swept clean, and blood-red geraniums sprang boldly from cupid pots on either side of the front steps.

  On one side of the house, manicured hedges formed an alcove that housed an intricately carved wooden garden seat, positioned to enjoy winter sun and summer shade. On the other, a birdbath sprouted from a pond fringed in tufted grass, an assortment of textured rocks and beds of pretty annuals that, I knew from long experience, were meticulously replanted each and every year. Beyond that grew glorious roses, lovingly tended and expertly pruned with faces turned towards the light.

  I let go of the bars and drifted towards my own front gate, which was rusted and no longer sat square in its frame. It opened with an indignant squawk. I looked up automatically for Herc, but all that greeted me was an unobscured view of the weedy path leading up to the peeling front steps and its sagging treads. Dead grass crackled underfoot as I made my way across to the roses that formed the living barrier between our two properties.

  White roses for loyalty, for a love stronger than death.

  Poor sad things, those roses were, on our side. More thorn than flower, with spiked spindles supporting an occasional stunted head, bowed down by neglect.

  I hung my head in a show of fellow feeling. I’d become blind to what was happening around me. So consumed with my own problems that I had failed to notice how rundown our life had become. Any idiot could see that we needed help. Everything was crumbling around us. Maybe Edie had been right all along. Maybe we really did need her back in our lives.

  I trudged up the front steps, trying to focus on what to do about Jimmy. A tightening in my gut told me that tonight was the night the prowler would make his next move.

  After Herc’s furious barking down the phone line, the prowler had gone on the attack and taken Herc out of the picture. Every nerve in my body told me he was building up for a showdown tonight. New Year’s Eve: the biggest night of the year for burglaries. The night when the police were most stretched; homes deserted, valuables unattended. The night that anyone with the foggiest knowledge about our lives would know that I’d be home alone.

  But how could I persuade Jimmy to cancel tonight’s gig and help me lay a trap for the prowler? Somehow I had to convince him that it was the only way to end this, to remove the threat hanging over our lives.

  Who knew what the police artist would make of Baden’s description? The wheels of justice ground too slowly for my liking. I wasn’t planning to live in fear – for myself, or for Herc – while they inched their way towards Herc’s poisoner.

  Herc would be home in the next day or so. I couldn’t risk him taking another bait. I had to do something, but the frustrating thing was that I knew I couldn’t do it on my own . . .

  I turned the key in the lock and walked inside, a solution opening up in my mind.

  Edwina.

  She was the only person I knew who could handle Jimmy. If I could get her onside, she could –

  ‘Katty, you’re home.’ Jimmy appeared at the bottom of the steps. ‘There’s something I want to show you.’ Then almost as an afterthought: ‘How’s Herc?’

  ‘Out of danger –’ I clattered down the steps in my thongs, skewering him with a pointed stare ‘– for the moment. The vet says he can come home in a day or two. But next time, he might not be so lucky.’

  Jimmy ran a hand through his hair. ‘Katty, the police are doing their best. You just have to be patient –’

  ‘But –’

  ‘Listen.’ He grabbed my shoulders. ‘Before you go off half-cocked, I want you to know that I’ve been thinking about what you said this morning.’

  ‘Really?’ My eyes widened, surprised by his sudden change of heart. ‘Does that mean you’re going to help me to catch this creep before –’

  Al emerged from my bedroom. ‘Hey, Kat.’ He glanced at Jimmy, and I caught a faint whiff of collusion in the air.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I asked, looking from one to the other. ‘I thought you had stuff to do. What’s going on?’

  Al tucked his hands into his pockets and nodded his head in Jimmy’s direction. ‘Your dad and I had a really big talk and –’

  Without me?

  ‘Really? How nice for you both.’ My icy tone threw him and for some reason he looked to Jimmy for support.

  ‘Be nice, Katty,’ Jimmy warned. ‘And give us some credit for having your best interests at heart.’

  ‘Does that mean you’re not going to work tonight?’ I interrupted. ‘You’ll stay home and help me catch this guy?’

  A frown flitted across his face. ‘I’ve already explained that I can’t do that.’

  I spun away from him, refusing to hear any more.

  He grabbed my arm. ‘Katty, be reasonable. I can’t just cancel on the biggest night of the year. I’ll never work in this town again.’

  ‘Who cares?’ I bristled.

  ‘I do,’ he snapped back. ‘It’s my life. This is what I do, who I am. When you’re older you’ll understand.’

  ‘That your life is a whole lot more important than mine?’ I wrenched my arm free. ‘It’s okay, Jimmy, I get that. Can I go now?’ I didn’t wait for a reply and pushed past them both, heading for the back door.

  ‘Kat, wait.’ Now it was Al clutching at my wrist. ‘Just hear your dad out.’

  ‘I don’t need to, Al. He’s been singing the same tune since my mum died.’ The words tasted bitter on my tongue. ‘The chorus never changes.’

  ‘But, Kat, if you just –’

  I snatched my hand away. ‘I can’t believe you’re taking his side! You don’t know him. Jimmy can’t think of anyone but himself. You want to know why we keep ourselves to ourselves?’ I stabbed a finger in Jimmy’s direction. ‘Because he knew we had to hide how we were living. He knew that it wasn’t right, leaving me alone night after night. He knew it was wrong, but he did it anyway.’

  ‘I didn’t have a choice, Katty,’ Jimmy said desperately. ‘And Edie was always there for you. Every night that I couldn’t be, she was there.’

  ‘She was next door, Jimmy.’ I struck out blindly for the door, not trusting the hot prick
ling behind my eyes. ‘I was a little kid and you left me on my own. That was the choice you made.

  ‘Well, I’m a big kid now, and I’ll make my own choices from now on.’

  Thirty-Two

  ‘Kat, wait!’

  I made a beeline for Edie’s, ignoring Al’s urgent pleas at my back.

  She was hard at work in the garden, hacking at the thick curtain of rambling roses that had choked the old archway on our border. Behind her, the downstairs side door stood open, promising sanctuary, just like in the old days.

  She turned, pulling an iPod bud out of one ear. ‘So, did the boys tell you?’ Her smile faded at the look on my face. ‘What’s the matter, Kat? I thought you’d be pleased.’

  ‘Pleased?’ My anger tipped over into confusion. ‘About what?’

  She dug the tips of her garden shears into the hard earth and directed her next comment over my shoulder. ‘Didn’t you tell her?’

  ‘She didn’t give us a chance.’ Al jogged up, glaring at me. ‘We tried to, but she never listens, she just goes off half-cocked –’

  ‘Tell me what?’

  He folded his arms across his chest. ‘Maybe you should go ask your dad.’

  I squared off, folding my own arms, deliberately mimicking him. ‘Maybe you should stop sucking up to my dad and just tell me yourself.’

  Edie muttered something under her breath, and plugged her iPod back into her ears. Then she picked up her shears and continued working as though we weren’t there.

  Al didn’t blink or move a muscle. He just stared at me with an intensity that was unnerving . . . and oddly familiar. Then I realised who it reminded me of.

  ‘You’re doing a Herc! You think you can just keep staring at me until I give you what you want!’

  ‘Maybe.’ He lifted an eyebrow. ‘But only if you say please.’

  Now he was pushing it. ‘Just tell me, okay?’ I waited two beats and then caved. ‘Please.’

  He grinned and slung an arm around my shoulders. ‘All right, Miss Cranky Pants. While you were off playing with Sequoia, the rest of us have been busy putting your plan into action.’

  ‘My plan?’

  ‘Well, an updated version of your plan,’ he amended. ‘Your dad and Edie figured out most of it, I added the genius touches, and Bill gave it the tick of approval. He’s happy because it doesn’t put anyone at risk. Well, maybe just the bad guy . . .’

  ‘Tell me,’ I commanded.

  And he did.

  It was what we would have come up with if we’d all listened and worked together in the first place.

  Edie had organised for the security company to install security cameras and lighting at strategic points around our house. But when Al pointed out that the prowler might be watching any comings and goings, they decided to turn it into a covert operation so that he wouldn’t get tipped off.

  Jimmy came up with a party idea to throw the prowler off the scent. While I was visiting Herc, he and Al rendezvoused with the two security technicians at their workshop and decked them out in the grungiest band t-shirts and torn jeans Jimmy could find in his wardrobe. By the time the technicians got round to our place, they looked like a couple of Jimmy’s dropkick mates helping to set up for a party at Edie’s.

  Al was right. It was pure genius. While I was walking his dog, he and Jimmy had been stringing up party lights, running them across the front of both yards, and through the rosebushes along the border between our two properties. Meanwhile, the tech guys had set up the security lights and the motion-sensitive cameras. Under the pretence of checking the positioning and strobing of the party lights, the security techs had managed to install their recording equipment without anyone becoming any the wiser about our revamped security measures. If the prowler ventured into our property, he would be caught unawares by the motion-sensitive cameras.

  ‘Wait a minute.’ I turned slowly, scanning the yard. ‘If the prowler has been watching us, wouldn’t he think it’s a bit weird when there’s no party tonight? I mean, after you’ve spent all this time setting up –’

  ‘Oh, we’re having a party, all right,’ said Edie, one earphone dangling around her neck.

  I didn’t know for how long she’d been listening, but strangely enough, I didn’t care.

  ‘I’m not sitting around all night, wondering if and when that little slimeball is going to strike.’ She slashed at a dead vine, slicing it off neatly at the base. ‘Me, you, Al, and whatever mates we can rustle up at short notice will see the New Year in. No grog, though,’ she added. ‘I want to stay sharp. And you, Cinderella, will have to go home at midnight.’

  Something in her tone made me realise she was having a lend of me, and her next words confirmed it.

  ‘Or at least that’s what the prowler will think,’ she said, with some satisfaction. ‘I’m betting you’re right, and that with Herc out of the picture, he’ll come sniffing around your house tonight. That’s why Jimmy has to go to work; it’s what the prowler will expect. Once you turn off the lights and head downstairs to bed, we want him to think that you’re on your own. I’m betting he won’t be able to resist paying you a visit.’

  Al nodded. ‘And that’s when we catch him on tape.’

  It was essentially my plan. But without Jimmy there to protect me, anxiety gnawed at my chest. ‘But if Jimmy’s at work, what will I do when the prowler shows up?’

  ‘Nothing. You won’t be there,’ said Edie firmly. ‘As soon as those lights go off, we’ll smuggle you back to my place. Bill insisted that nobody confront the prowler – he doesn’t want anyone put at risk – but if he does show, the new security cameras will capture everything. Then we can nail him.’

  Relief pumped air into my lungs. ‘Now that’s what I call a plan.’

  ‘It was mostly your plan,’ said Al generously. ‘But you’ve got to give points to your dad for the party idea. He even got Bill to agree to it, which is a bonus, having the law on our side.’

  If that was a hint to make up with Jimmy, I chose to ignore it. Al didn’t live with him; he had no right to judge. It still rankled that he was siding with Jimmy, but I decided to let it go and instead asked the only obvious question that remained unanswered.

  ‘What if the prowler doesn’t show? What if he leaves it till next week or next month to chuck another bait over our fence?’

  Edie pursed her lips. ‘Those motion-sensitive cameras are top of the range. They’ll capture anyone trespassing or throwing anything over the property line. I’ve paid for it to be monitored twenty-four seven until this situation is resolved.’

  I looked at her uncertainly. ‘That must cost a fortune.’

  She shrugged. ‘Have to spend my money on something.’ She sliced viciously into the cat’s claw vine that had invaded the bushes on our side. ‘And if it helps put that slimeball in jail, I’d call that a damn good investment.’

  We spent the rest of the day getting ready for the party; blowing up balloons and working our way down Edie’s long list of finger-food preparations.

  It was kinda fun and I didn’t see Jimmy at all, which suited me just fine. Edie said he was whacked after working all night and most of the day, and needed to catch a few hours’ sleep before his big New Year’s gig. I still hadn’t come to terms with him not being there for me, so it was probably just as well that our paths didn’t cross.

  Al surprised me by leaving the subject of Jimmy alone for most of the afternoon. But, just as I piped the last of the pink crabby stuff into the tiny savoury shells on Edie’s serving platters, he propped himself up on the bench and started in on me.

  ‘Why are you giving your dad such a hard time about working tonight, Kat?’ he asked. ‘If he stayed home, the prowler would probably give you a swerve, which would defeat the whole purpose. He’s leaving you in good hands.’

  I snorted. ‘What, like yours?’


  He grinned, planting a tiny sprig of greenery on top of the last pink nibbly. ‘I was talking about Edie’s, actually,’ he said. ‘Though you’re very welcome to place yourself in my hands, anytime you want.’

  I rinsed out the piping set, studiously avoiding his eyes and concentrating instead on the view through the window of Mount Coot-tha, bunched and brooding to the west, under a blood-stained sky.

  ‘He’s not abandoning you, Kat. Me and Edie, we’re here for you.’

  ‘I know.’ I wiped my hands on a tea towel and twisted it slowly into a knot, my eyes still trained on the sunset. ‘It’s not that. It’s . . . I don’t know, everything, I guess.’

  Al’s silence encouraged me to put my frustrations into words.

  ‘You were right. I do walk on eggshells around Jimmy. I worry about him all the time, but he never ever worries about me. Just once, I’d like him to put me first, do something for me, instead of doing what he wants all the time. Is that asking too much?’

  ‘Depends.’ He prised the towel out of my fingers. ‘Stop strangling this innocent cloth and ask yourself this –’ he turned me to face him ‘– if he blew off the ball tonight and stayed home with you, would that make you happy?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘Really? And what if nobody wanted to book him after that? What if he never got to play in bands again? Would that make you happy?’

  ‘Yes.’ I hesitated, then sighed. ‘No.’ I pushed the hair away from my face. ‘I don’t know, maybe.’

  ‘Well, Kat, those are the choices.’ He jumped off the bench. ‘Maybe you better decide which is the right answer for the two of you.’

  Al started cleaning up the mess we’d made in the kitchen. The only sound for the next few minutes was water running in the sink and the occasional tuneless whistle while he worked.

  I wiped each dish slowly, worrying at the questions he’d raised. Did I really want Jimmy to give up the gigs? Would that holey old Born to Play, Forced to Work t-shirt make me feel guilty for the rest of my life? Did I want him to surrender his dreams? He’d lost so much: Mum . . . and then me in few years, when I finish school and move out. Did I want Jimmy to lose the only other thing in life that he really loved?