Fury (5 page)

I am shivering now, despite this stuffy room. When I put the tasteless mug of coffee to my lips, the remnants are stone
cold. My clothes are covered with dried tears, dust and blood. No one can tell me now that they can give me anything that would make me one bit more comfortable.

“Yes,” I say through my numbness and then I add, “please.”

Dr Fadden nods and gets up to leave the room. He locks the door behind him.

Sixteen.
There’s nothing
sweet
about sixteen. Especially when practically everyone else is born at the beginning of the year and is already seventeen. Already able to drive. Already gone. And here I still am with my feet in the same place. I am so scared of being left behind. My mother says that’s what puts the aggressive streak in me.

“Thank you,” I say to Dr Fadden.

I wipe my nose on the back of my hand and take another sip of coffee. It tastes just like the one before: horrible.

“How did your punishment at the canteen go?”

“Bad.”

“In what way?”

“Well if you think the food there
looks
disgusting, you should see how they actually
make
it.”

There I am again, trying to be brave. On the inside I shake like the canteen jelly.

“Is that all?”

“What do you mean
is that all?
Have you even seen the beef goulash?”

“Serious, Eliza.”

“Right. You want to know if I suffered a traumatic episode that would later become my psychological trigger?”

“Something like that.”

I realise I’m twisting a piece of hair so tightly around my knuckle that my finger has turned purple. I put my hand back into my lap.

“No.” I reply.

I stare at him. I try and stare at him with all my hate so that I can burn a hole in his face.

“Hmm.” He scribbles something down.

The doctor’s been writing notes ever since we met. His notebook is bound in brown leather, just like Dr Fadden himself. Wrapped in his taupe-coloured shirt and brown leather jacket. His trousers are those cream slacks middle-aged men wear once they, like, grow out of normal pants. I wonder if that moment is a conscious and horrifying one.

“You know Eliza, I think you’re lying to me again. Deep on the inside, I know you have a lot to say.”

We lock eyes with each other. I plan to win the contest, but we’re interrupted by a hard knock on the door. It opens without permission and the Chief Inspector sticks his head through. I don’t know his name. The other cops call him
sir.
All I know is that he makes me sick to my stomach when I look at him. He’s got hair that looks like it’s been slicked back with chip oil and a moustache like a porn star.

“Fadden—the girl’s mother is outside with her lawyer.”

“Did you hear that?” whispers Dr Fadden, leaning towards me. “Your mother is here. Again.”

“Brian, we cannot refuse them counsel. I will have to let the lawyer in.”

“No!” I say loudly.

The room goes quiet. They both turn to look at me.

“There is no
we. I
am refusing counsel. I don’t want to talk to any lawyer. I only want to talk to Dr Fadden.”

The chief stares at me with his eyelids peeled right back. It’s a scary sight. One eye stares right at me while the other stares at the doctor.

“Brian, I need to talk to you. Now!”

Dr Fadden looks at me, shrugs and gets up. The heated words begin even before the door clicks shut. Meh. I’m used to shouting; my parents used to fight like that all the time.

My eyes instantly zoom to the notebook and manila folder. I sweep my eyes around the white room. This could be another
trick. Maybe there’s a two-way mirror and they’re watching me right now … but this room is solid brick and I don’t think the government has enough money for mirror-that-looks-like- ugly-seventies-brick- wall-spy-technology. Maybe he just trusts me.

Sucker.

I lean over the desk and grab the notebook. I wonder who gave it to him. It looks expensive, and it smells earthy, like the Tom Ford cologne my father used to wear. I quickly draw back when I realise I’m pressing my nose against the cover. Three female faces stare at me with empty eyes and snakes for hair. What the hell? I almost drop the notebook in horror.

I try to flip it open, but I realise my wrist doesn’t work.

Wow. I sigh and drop the notebook back down on the table. I can’t do it. I don’t want to know what he has written about me. What he thinks about me. Right now even
I
don’t want to think about myself. Later I’ll just say I felt bad about invading his privacy.

No one said anything about the manila folder though. It is just some ordinary, beat-up bit of cream card. Nothing that says
don’t go there.

I take out the photo of Lexi from before. Behind it is a photo of Ella.

She looks shocking. I perk up. Maybe I can make copies and plaster it all over school with a speech bubble.
Hi, I’m Ella and I finally got arrested by the fashion police for looking this bad.
That would serve her right.

But what am I thinking? School is over. Come next year everyone will be going to uni. Many will go to prestigious colleges in the UK and the States and be living away from home for the first time.

Where will I be?

There’s a photo of me too. So this is how I look as a criminal. Like an arrested hooker. There’s more mascara than face. When they made me line up against the wall for a photo I wanted to stand there and pull faces, but I ended up standing very still holding the placard because I was so scared. The strands of hair that fall across my face look like bleeding cuts.

Then there is Marianne. To my surprise Marianne doesn’t look too bad in her mug shot. She has flaky lips and her hair is limp, but she looks calm. Almost angelic. Almost innocent.

Even though the words that still echo in my head are the ones
I am sick of him, just finish the bastard off.

A deep breath wells inside me. Without Marianne, I find myself weak all of a sudden. I miss her. I spent so much time trying to put her down that I never stopped to think how lonely I would be when I finally found myself alone.

My stomach makes the hugest growl. I’m starving. I realise I can’t remember the last time I ate.

“Anorexics make it seem so easy, but it’s actually a bitch trying to stay slim,” said Lexi, scoffing down a white bread sandwich, even though today was Wednesday and her nonlunch day.

It was sunny and I was in a good mood. We’d decided to sit on the grass by the lake. There were swallows everywhere. Black crescents in the sky, skimming the grass almost on their bellies. Lexi says the swallows are shaped like blades and are bad luck. I don’t blame the swallows.

“I am so sorry for your suffering,” said Marianne, eyeing Lexi as she pushed a stray piece of cheese into her mouth. Lexi shot her a dirty look and continued eating.

“I bet Jane Ayres is anorexic,” I said. “I have never seen her eat anything except salad. No, hang on … I saw Jane Ayres eat a
Maccas
salad once. She must have been off her diet that day.”

“But just look at her,” said Lexi. “I would kill to be that skinny. Do you know what I hate? People who go, ‘oh, you’re so lucky to be so slim’. On the inside I’m thinking, ‘honey, luck has nothing to do with it. Do you know how much I have to starve and exercise to make it look this easy?’”

“Precisely,” replied Marianne. “Just the two things you are doing right now, starving yourself on that sandwich and exercising flat on your bum.”

“Oh, shut up why don’t you?” was all Lexi could counter with, and she pouted. Marianne looked proud of herself.

I stared at Marianne and her perfectly flat stomach.

“You’re so mean,” I said. “You’re like one of those people who upload pictures of themselves where they look really hot and the other person looks like shit.”

“Thanks,” replied Marianne.

“Hey look, there’s Ella!” I stuck my arm up and waved, glad to change the topic. Ella made a u-turn in our direction. Beside me, Lexi and Marianne exchanged looks.

“Hey Ella, how’s it going with your new—what does Hollerings call it?—
buddies?
Are you even allowed to say hello to me?”

“Thank you so much for asking,” replied Ella. “I can’t even begin to tell you—I’m having the craziest time! So many faces to put names to and this school is just enormous! I can’t believe the size of the wings, I mean the bathrooms here are probably the size of classrooms in other schools—but anyway, it’s okay, I can talk to you.”

Huh. I guess that’s Ella-speak for
yes.

“Come sit down,” I said and patted the grass beside me.

Ella smiled and plonked herself down. From her satchel she drew out a brown paper lunchbag with a square, sandwich-shaped lump in the middle.

“Not buying your lunch today?” Marianne quipped.

I flashed a look at Marianne. She looked back at me with a straight, innocent face.

“I—I had a think about the canteen lunch and I decided Eliza’s right. It doesn’t taste very nice. So I got my mum to make me a sandwich instead. Ham and cheese.”

“Oh really?” said Marianne, wrinkling her nose. “I don’t eat ham. Meat is so mean. Personally, I find the entire farming industry quite barbaric.”

Luckily no one was listening to Marianne.

“Hey, nice bracelet,” said Ella looking down at Lexi’s hand.

“Um, thanks,” replied Lexi. She lifted her arm and shifted the beads around her wrist self-consciously. “I made it myself.”

“Beautiful stones. Cat’s Eyes aren’t they?”

“That’s right,” replied Lexi.

“I make jewellery myself too. Have you seen that new craft supplies store that just opened near us? Down on the Strip, you know that has all the boutique stores? Maybe we can both go and check it out sometime.”

“Sure,” said Lexi. “Maybe we can.” She took her wrist back from Ella. I watched a small smile spread across her lips.

“Lexi makes the nicest jewellery ever,” said Marianne lazily. “I don’t think anyone could possibly make anything as nice as our Lexi.”

“Oh believe me, I make pretty nice jewellery,” chirped Ella.

Now, Ella was either feeling really brave or really foolish and hadn’t seen the souring look on Marianne’s face. I’d put my bets on it being the latter.

“I’ll bring in some samples of my work tomorrow to show
you. Or if you like, we can all go over to my place after school. My mum taught me everything I know. I actually come from a really long line of craft makers. My grandmother—”

“Fascinating,” interrupted Marianne. “You know, honey, we would love to go over to your place, but I have piano lessons after school today and Lexi—”

“We’ll go,” said Lexi. “And Mari, I believe your piano lessons are actually on a Thursday.”

“Great!” exclaimed Ella happily. “Mummy has been asking when I would bring some of my new friends over. She’s so excited about meeting you all. She said it’s so great for me to associate with some real Priory girls. Especially you, Eliza, we’ve read so much about your mum in the newspapers.”

“Ah … yeah.” I said, with an eye on Marianne whose tanned face was looking decidedly more red than golden.

“Tell us how you’re getting along at Priory then,” I asked quickly.

“Oh, fabulously,” replied Ella. “In fact I went up to reception yesterday and the secretaries there were in a mess, papers everywhere because they’re trying to computerise the old filing system. Since I have the best computer skills I offered to help.”

“That’s nice,” said Lexi, the interest fading from her face.

“Well, I found this in the rubbish and I thought you might be interested in it, Eliza.”

I looked at the dirty index card Ella held out eagerly. I skimmed the contents and my mouth dropped open.

Lexi decided she was interested again and snatched the card off me.

“No way!”

“It’s true,” said Ella. “Jane Ayres was actually born Jane Air. A-I-R. Appears she’s changed the spelling and added the ‘s’ to the end of it herself.”

“Jane Air! That’s excellent!” exclaimed Lexi. “Now we know what that nasty smell is that always lingers around her—the one that makes her turn up her own nose!”

“So!” added Ella eagerly, “We can say that without her fancy Ayres she is just—a plain Jane.”

Lexi looked at me with a straight face, but she couldn’t help it. She cracked up. Ella looked delighted. I started laughing as well and Ella took that as a cue that she could laugh too. We’d forgotten all about Marianne, who suddenly interrupted with—

“—If this is the type of mature talk we are going to waste our lunch time with, then I’m going to go and find more stimulating company elsewhere.”

“But Marianne,” I said to her, spluttering. “That is, like, the best thing ever!”

Marianne grabbed the index card from Lexi and chucked it onto the grass. A small gust of wind sent it rolling away down the hill toward the lake.

“And Eliza. Why are you here having lunch with us anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be at the canteen doing detention?”

“Crap!” I said and stood up. “So I am.”

Ella prepared to stand up too, but Lexi grabbed hold of her by the wrist. “Stay,” she said gently. “Help me get the card back before it blows right under Hollerings’ nose.”

Marianne stormed off.

I threw one last look at the vision of Lexi and Ella chasing Jane Ayres’ old identity in the wind. Then I turned back and ran after Marianne.

A disembodied hand gently sweeps the photos in front of me to the side. It deposits a heavenly smelling paper bag, along with a tall white cardboard cylinder. I take the top off the cylinder
. Mmm. Cappuccino.
I grab at the plastic spoon greedily and start shovelling at the chocolate-dusted foam.

I look up to see Dr Fadden slowly walking to his side of the table. He looks grim. He seems surprised to see his brown notebook still sitting there. Undisturbed.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t look in it. Not that sort of girl.”

He nods appreciatively, though I know he is searching my face. I think he could probably do with the affirmation.

“What are those
things
on the cover”

“Greek chthonic deities.”

“Is that what they taught you in anthropology school?”

“I quite enjoyed the study of human behaviour as influenced by myth and superstition, yes.”

“Is that how you ended up with a useless degree? Your
girlfriend nagged you about getting a real job, so now you’re stuck doing this crap?”

See? I reckon I can read him like a book too.