Broken (39 page)

‘Yes.' Mattie felt hypnotised by the eye, absolutely lifeless yet filled with warning.

‘How'd it get here?'

‘I don't know. Don't touch!' Mattie slapped Max's hand away as it crept towards the feathered pile. ‘Don't go
near
it.'

‘It's totally yuck,' commented Courtney, grimacing.

Mattie, still trying to get her head around its presence on her kitchen table, suddenly became aware of a cool draft coming from over the sink. She glanced across and was stunned to see the window wide open, with the lacy scrim undulating in the early morning breeze.

‘Did it come in the window?' asked Max, following her gaze.

‘It must have,' replied Mattie slowly, going over to the window and winding it closed. She looked back towards the bird, and then at the children. ‘Yes, it must have. Poor thing has flown inside by accident and then broken its neck against the wall.'

Max frowned. ‘But you never leave the window open.'

‘I probably did last night, because it's getting warmer. Well, I won't do that again!' Mattie forced a smile on her face and clapped her hands, regretting it as soon as she did because she sounded like Miss Thomson. ‘Okay show's over! Both of you get in your school clothes and then we'll have breakfast. In the meantime, I'll get rid of the bird.'

‘Can we have a funeral?' asked Courtney enthusiastically.

‘Definitely not.'

‘What are these then?' Max approached the table and picked up a slip of paper. For the first time Mattie noticed that there were several, all identical, laid out in a fan on the table behind the bird. She took the one from Max's hand and examined it.

‘It's an early slip. From your school.'

‘Yeah, I know' Max picked up another one. ‘There's about twenty of them here.'

Mattie dragged her eyes from the one she was holding to those spread across the table. She blinked rapidly while she thought. ‘Oh, now I remember! I got some from your school yesterday and must have left them here. Wow! For a minute I thought the magpie had brought them!'

‘Silly Mummy,' said Courtney fondly.

‘Okay, off you go. Get dressed.'

Mattie watched the children leave the room and then turned back to the table. She dropped the early slip she was holding, letting it flutter back to join the others. Her insides hurt like someone had taken them and tied them into knots, and she felt distinctly ill. Because although everything she wanted to believe strained against the suspicion, she could see only one way that this tableau had evolved, and that was if Jake had done it.

The chances of her leaving a window open were nonexistent. Mattie had a compulsion about windows, and didn't like
any
to be open, especially at night. She had a habit of checking each window in a certain order every evening before bed. And this was not a simple matter of glancing at them – she needed to physically place her hand on the glass, to check that it was closed, and then on the window winder-knob, to
check that it was tight. Every night, without fail. And she hadn't taken any spare early slips yesterday Why would she?

Mattie rubbed her temples tiredly as her stomach roiled with agitation. He had keys. Of
course
he had keys – how could she have forgotten? She lent him a set when she was moving in, and never thought to ask for them back. But to accept something so bizarre as Jake
killing
a bird, and then leaving it as a message or warning or whatever, was to also accept other conclusions about him. Scary conclusions. And her mind skittered away from these fearfully Instead she stalled on the thought, bad enough in itself, of him quietly walking through her house while she slept, totally unaware of his presence. Bringing in his macabre gift and then bending over the table to set up his little display before leaving. Or did he perhaps walk up the passage before leaving, and lean in her bedroom doorway to watch her – maybe that was why she had had such a bad night. Maybe she had sensed him, in her sleep.

Mattie's knees felt weak. She pulled out a chair and sat down, not caring that she was right next to the dead bird. Now she could not shake the mental image of Jake watching her while she lay in bed, tossing and turning, ignorant of even his presence, let alone the message he was leaving. A rather dramatic message, and one that was having a far stronger impact than a simple note would have. Either a dare to go ahead and use the early slips, or a threat if she ever did such a thing again. Or perhaps a mixture of the two.

Mattie took the children to school and delivered them right on time. She kissed Max goodbye at the top of the corridor and then walked Courtney down to her classroom door and watched her hang up her bag. Other mothers also said their goodbyes, lingering afterwards outside the school gates to talk. And Mattie smiled, exchanging greetings and wondering, almost surreally, whether any one of them had ever had their husband give them the gift of a dead bird. One that he had killed himself, just for them.
Love is
. . .

Mattie drove home quickly, still undecided about how to react to the events of the morning. Should she confront him? Or should she
maybe just ignore it, treat it as if it had never happened? Would that be more effective? These options, as well as the events themselves, were still swirling around in her head as she pulled into her driveway and saw Hannah's car. And the thankfulness she felt surprised her.

Hannah came over to the car and opened Mattie's door as she turned off the ignition. ‘Hey there. Keep missing you.'

‘I know' Mattie got out of the car and kissed her on the cheek, resisting the urge to throw her arms around Hannah and start crying. But if she started, she would never stop.

‘I brought morning tea.' Hannah held up a brown paper bag. ‘Muffins.'

‘Excellent.' Mattie looked at her sister thoughtfully, then said, ‘First, though, come with me.'

Hannah followed Mattie as she walked purposefully around to the other side of the unit, beside the big rhododendron bush where the wheelie bins were kept. She lifted up the lid of the smaller one, with the yellow lid.

‘What
are
you doing?' Hannah stared at her, perplexed.

‘Just look in here. On the top.'

Hannah frowned at Mattie but stepped forward obediently and peered into the bin. She recoiled immediately ‘Jesus, Mattie! Thanks a bloody lot!'

‘It was on my table this morning.'

‘It was
what
?'

‘On my table,' repeated Mattie, closing the bin and walking back around the unit towards the porch. She got her keys out of her bag and unlocked the door. Then, without moving, she let it swing open as she peered into the lounge-room.

‘What on
earth
is going on?' asked Hannah, standing behind her.

‘I'll tell you in a minute.' Mattie stepped inside, still checking everything, and then walked into the kitchen. The table was clear. She put her bag down and went to put the kettle on.

Hannah followed, staring at her sister with confusion. She placed her handbag next to Mattie's and then slid into a chair, putting the paper bag down on the table. ‘All right. Tell me.'

‘When I got up this morning, it was on the table, right there,' Mattie pointed with a teaspoon. ‘Dead.'

Hannah, who had just rested her elbows on the table, removed them quickly. She grimaced. ‘Ah, you did –'

‘Clean it? Yeah.' Mattie smiled, without any humour, as she poured boiling water over the tea-bag in Hannah's mug. ‘Scrubbed it with disinfectant as well. Twice.'

‘Good.' Hannah put her elbows back, gingerly. ‘Go on.'

‘Courtney found it. She screamed and I came running. The window was open too.'

Hannah looked immensely relieved. ‘Oh, so it came in the –'

‘No. It didn't. I rarely open the windows, and besides, I check them every night. There was no way that window was open. And there's more anyway Behind the bird was a pile of early slips from the children's school. You know, the slips you fill out to collect them early'

‘Early
slips? Why on earth would there be early slips?'

‘Because it's a message.' Mattie put Hannah's tea down in front of her and sat opposite. She leant forward intently ‘I'd better start with what's happened over the past few days.'

‘Before you do, I should tell you that Hilda rang me last night and told me about the money, and Jake taking the kids.'

‘I see.' Mattie sat back, expecting to feel resentment, and was surprised by its absence. In fact, she was almost relieved, and touched by the concern.

‘Hope you don't mind. She said she'd been going to ring me Monday night, after she saw you, but you'd wanted to be alone. So she waited. But she told me you got the kids yesterday'

‘I'm glad,' said Mattie. ‘Glad she waited, and glad she told you as well.'

‘That bastard.' Hannah looked at Mattie grimly ‘To think I used to like him.'

‘Me too.'

‘How much?'

Mattie knew exactly what she meant. ‘About twenty-eight thousand altogether. And that includes the ten thousand that Mum gave us after Dad died, when she sold the house.'

‘But that's
your
money!'

‘I don't think Jake sees it that way' Mattie smiled bleakly ‘Or cares.'

‘Christ.'

‘Look, the money's one thing, and I don't deny it hurts, but that's only the half of it. It's everything else! One thing after another! He's gone
mad
.' Mattie took a deep breath and slowed down. ‘I've never seen him like this.'

‘You've never crossed him to this extent, either,' said Hannah, shaking her head. ‘Maybe this is the real Jake. Showing his true colours.'

‘Well, I'll tell you what I've done too. I've applied for final residency orders, and also interim ones. That means that the case will be heard any time within the next twenty-eight days.'

‘Well done!' said Hannah approvingly ‘But still – twenty-eight days.'

‘I know' Mattie sipped her coffee silently.

Hannah undid her hair and shook it out, a flowing dark brown mass that covered her shoulders and softened her features. Then she ran her fingers through it while she thought. ‘Well, we need to ring the police. About the bird.'

‘No point,' replied Mattie, shortly ‘I already thought it through.'

‘Of
course
there's a point! It's breaking and entering, for starters!'

‘No, it's not. He has keys.'

‘You're kidding.' Hannah stared at her. ‘He has
keys
?'

‘Yep. He kept a set when I moved in. I'd forgotten.' Mattie moved her mug slightly and then dabbed with her finger at the damp ring left behind. ‘Besides, leaving the window open was quite smart. The police are never going to believe I didn't just forget to close it.'

‘And you're certain –'

‘No doubt at all.'

‘Well, first things first,' Hannah tried to sound hearty. ‘We need to get your locks changed.'

‘I can't.' Mattie looked up, her eyes shining. ‘I have to get permission from the landlord, and besides, I can't afford it. I'm near broke.'

Hannah shook her head decisively. ‘Stuff the landlord. We'll tell him later. And I'll pay for the locksmith. Think of it as an early Christmas present.'

‘I can't accept –'

‘Either that or you have to come and stay with me.' Hannah smiled. ‘And believe me, I think we'd both rather the first option.'

‘Hannah, you're being . . . I mean –'

‘Forget about it. But, I'm sorry, I have to insist that I tell Stuart.' Hannah looked at Mattie, expecting an argument.

‘Okay' Mattie nodded, and wiped at her eyes. Her head throbbed with tiredness. She stood up and went to the sink to wash her hands. ‘Because I'm beginning to realise that, much as I hate the thought, the more people who know, the better. Me keeping everything quiet is playing right into his hands.'

‘I think you're right.' Hannah suddenly shook her head crossly. ‘Do you know, we've been doing this all wrong. We've been waiting for him to act, then we
react
. And not even doing that well. I mean, do you still have those bruises?'

Mattie sat down and pulled at her tracksuit top to show her neck clearly, even though she knew the answer. ‘No. All gone.'

‘We should've taken photos. Are you
sure
there's none left? Anywhere?'

‘None. Sorry'

Hannah smiled ruefully. ‘I'll forgive you this once. But try to keep them longer next time, will you?'

Mattie was saved from answering this rather weak attempt at humour by the phone. She got up to answer it as Hannah, remembering her muffins, went to get a plate.

‘Hello?'

‘Hello. Is that Matilda Hampton?'

‘Yes. Speaking.'

‘Hello. My name is Ronald De Sousa, from Centrelink. Now, can I ask you a couple of quick questions for identification purposes?'

‘Certainly.' Mattie frowned. Why would Centrelink be ringing her?

‘Okay then. Date of birth please?'

‘Nineteenth July seventy-five.'

‘Full name?'

‘Matilda Anne Hampton.'

‘Mother's maiden name?'

‘Um, Ford.'

‘Okay then. No problem. Now, you recently applied for a parenting payment, didn't you?'

‘Yes, is there a problem?'

‘Not necessarily, no. What's happening is that you're just having a review done.'

‘A review?' repeated Mattie, glancing across at Hannah, who was watching her curiously.

‘Yes, nothing to worry about. We'll just be sending you some questions in the mail to be answered, that's all. You need to fill them out and send the form back.'

‘What sort of questions?'

‘Oh, regarding your living arrangements, things like that. Whether you have any other adults staying with you.'