The Protected (12 page)

Later I am in my room when the doorbell rings. I go out to answer it, but my mother is already there. Mrs Van stands on our doorstep. I watch from behind my mother. She doesn't know I am there.

‘We don't need more cake, Mrs Van,' she says.

‘I am not bringing you cake. Here.' She leans down and picks something up. A plant in a plastic pot. ‘It is an orchid.'

My mother doesn't say anything.

‘Take it. Plant it. It will be good for you. It will be purple when it flowers. Katie told me she liked my orchids.'

That would have been a Christmas-cash ploy.

‘Take it.'

My mother rubs her forehead and sighs.

‘Why don't you want it? Tell me.'

‘You're always bringing me things. I don't need things.'

‘You need this plant. You need to plant it.'

‘What? Am I supposed to remember her with a plant? Is that the idea? I'm supposed to be content with the fact that I have lost my daughter, now that I have this stupid plant? Why do you think something like this is a substitute for my daughter?'

‘You didn't lose her,' Mrs Van says. ‘It isn't your fault. Do you think I am an idiot? This plant is not supposed to be a substitute. No! You plant it outside, in your garden––'

‘It's Andrew's garden.'

‘You plant it in your garden. You go outside every day into the sunshine and you water it, you pull out the weeds. If you can't do anything else, this is okay. All you do every day is water your plant. If you can do that for two weeks I will bring you another. Take it, go on.'

‘I don't think I want it.'

Mrs Van sets the pot down on the doorstep. ‘You should talk to me.'

‘What?'

‘You must talk to somebody. I am right here.'

‘Go away.'

‘I did not hear you.'

‘GO AWAY!'

‘Aha! That is it. You want to shout and yell? You shout and yell at me. I am a tough, old woman, I can take it. You can't keep it all inside here,' she points to her chest. ‘It will dry you up and you will be no use to anybody.'

Mum says nothing. Mrs Van stares up at her, squinting through her glasses. She picks up the plant and hands it to my mother.

‘Water it. It will flower next winter.'

It takes me a moment to realise Mum is crying.

Twenty

DVDs on Katie's bookshelf:

*
Breaking Bad
box set

*
Six Feet Under
box set

*
Friends
box set

*
Breakfast at Tiffany's

*
Rear Window

*
Carrie
(original version)

*
Pulp Fiction

*
Project Runway
(seasons three to five)

*
The September Issue

*
Trainspotting

*
Psycho
(original version)

*
The Birds

*
Sex in the City
box set

Wednesday. There is heat in the day before there's even shadows on the ground. A creamy brown clug of smoke haze hangs in the air. My bus pulls into the bus bay and most people are silent, feet heavy, knowing the revolting day that's in store: airless classrooms, useless ceiling fans, morning assembly in a sun which could ignite us.

I have been awake most of the night. Not for the usual reasons. And there is a twist in my stomach that's different to all the other ones that have been there before. I realise I might actually be looking forward to the day.

I leave the bus, begin the walk up the hill to the quadrangle. Scuffs of other students straggle up the paved path. A small cluster sits amongst a clump of grevilleas, they are my grade. Some of them were at the skate park yesterday, Josh's friends, or the people he's friends with when he's not doing the crossword at the ag plot. Maddie and Lola are there. So are Charlotte and Tara.

‘Hey, Hannah!' one of the guys calls out.

I turn.

‘It's Hannah, isn't it?' He has short dreadlocks, fierce eyes.

‘Yeah.'

‘What you up to with our Joshy, aye?' Charlotte nudges him, shakes her head. He shrugs her away. ‘He sez you guys are gettin' to know each other very well.'

I swallow. There is breath, there is breath somewhere inside me, but I can't get at it.

‘Sez you're a very talented young lady.'

‘Nick, shut up,' Maddie says. The boy laughs.

‘I'm just trying to make friends!'

‘You're a dick.'

‘Yeah, but what a dick.'

I am walking. I am walking away, but it feels as though I'm not moving at all. There are footsteps behind me, someone touches my shoulder. It's Maddie.

‘Are you okay? Ignore Nick, he's an arsehole. You okay?'

I nod. I don't know what to do with this. I do not know what to do with it.

Josh follows me out of roll call. ‘Fishing trip today, Jane Eyre? I'm thinking third period, Maths.'

‘Can't.' I walk faster.

‘Why?'

‘I just can't.'

‘Janie—'

I stop. ‘Leave me alone.'

People hear, they pause, look, then keep walking.

‘What?' The confusion in his eyes almost makes me change my mind.

‘Just leave me alone.'

‘Jane, what's up? Is this about yesterday? Um, can I say I was drunk and to forget what I said? Will that help?'

‘My name is Hannah. But you know that, don't you? Told your mates. Told them all sorts of stuff. What else are you going to say about me?'

He grabs my hand. I try to pull away but he pulls back, steers me into an empty classroom.

‘Let go of me!'

‘Hannah, what the fuck?'

‘What else are you going to say about me, Josh?'

‘I don't know what you're talking about.'

‘Leave me alone.'

He keeps hold of my hand. Frowns at me. I pull away, leaving him there.

At the end of second period I leave English class and begin the walk across the yard towards the ag plot. After what happened this morning I can't shake my craving for solitude. As I am walking I notice that the yard seems almost entirely empty of students. There is noise, though, like a crowd watching a sporting match. It comes from the direction of the canteen rather than the oval. As I near it I see the backs of students as they scuffle and strain to get a closer look.

It's obviously been going on for a bit because both their uniforms are torn and smudged with dirt. Josh has Nick, the dreadlocks guy, by the collar. He rams him against a concrete pillar. Nick takes a swing, connects with Josh's chin. Josh staggers back a step, barely losing a second before returning a punch, which sends Nick to the ground. Josh is on him then, holding him by the collar, shouting. Which is when three male teachers, one of them Mr Black, finally arrive, whistles shrieking. It takes two of them to pull Josh away, there is blood streaming from his left eyebrow. Another teacher pulls Nick to his feet and as soon as he's upright Josh tries to take another lunge at him. There's more shouting, this time from the teachers and it's as they're hauling Josh and Nick away that Josh's eyes meet mine. He holds my gaze.

I don't see him for the rest of the day.

On Thursday morning Mr Black pulls me aside on my way into homeroom. He tells me Josh has been suspended for two days. He asks me what I saw and I tell him.

‘So you don't have any idea who instigated the fight?' he asks. ‘Who punched who first?'

‘No,' I answer. ‘I wasn't there when it started.'

‘Your name was mentioned apparently.'

‘I don't know anything about it.'

He looks at me sceptically. ‘All right. Go back to your seat.'

***

Mum knocked on my door. ‘Hannah? Darling, can you open up?'

If I pulled my knees up to my chin, wrapped my arms around my legs and closed my eyes it was like I wasn't there at all. The very act of opening my eyes only anchored me in reality and I didn't want to be in my reality anymore. I was done.

I could hear Mum on the phone to Mr Black. She didn't talk to him so much as shout. She demanded to know what the school was doing about the bullying. She demanded suspensions, expulsions, criminal charges, public flogging – you name it. Then she rang my dad and then Nanna. From the sounds of things, Nanna's solution was that I drop out of school and get a floristry apprenticeship.

I don't remember the rest of the day very well. At some point I moved to the window and lay there looking up at the sky. I didn't do anything else. I wasn't sure I could and I didn't have the energy to try. In the evening, after he got home, Dad knocked softly on my door. I heard Mum follow him up the hallway. ‘Just let me talk to her,' he said. I listened to him knock but I didn't move. Eventually he spoke. ‘Spannie, I'm just going to sit on the floor here, on the other side of the door, so I'm here when you need me.'

I don't know how long I waited before I got up and pulled the desk away from the door. He came into my room and sat beside me on the bed.

‘You've got to let us help you, mate.'

‘Anything you do will make it worse.'

‘Make what worse? Talk to me, Span.'

But I couldn't.

***

On Friday I round the corner of the ag building and Josh is on the veranda, ripped shorts and a singlet top, no shoes. He lies on his back, hands behind his head, eyes closed. I find myself noticing his bronzed upper arms. He has useful-looking shoulders. Josh opens one eye. Closes it again.

‘Nick Pergis is a tool, Hannah. How come everyone else knows not to trust a fucking thing that comes out of his mouth, but not you?'

I sit on the edge of the veranda, dangle my legs over.

‘You didn't have to punch him.'

‘You don't get to tell me what I should and shouldn't do.'

‘Sorry.'

He sits up, eyes burning into me. ‘Do you really think I would say something like that about you? Do you, Hannah?'

‘Josh. I'm sorry. He got me off guard. I'm not …'

‘Not what?'

‘Not good at trusting people.'

‘You don't say.'

‘You don't understand,' I whisper. He watches me. ‘You don't know what it was like before … before my sister died. The stuff they used to do.'

‘I'm not them.'

‘I know.'

I wonder if he will get up and walk away but he doesn't.

‘Are you in trouble?' I ask after a few moments.

‘They gave me two days' suspension. First warning for fighting. Two counts and you're out. Seems a bit harsh to me, most people want to punch Nick in the head at one time or another.'

He looks away. He has an expression I haven't seen on him before. Hurt.

‘I'm sorry, Josh.'

He turns his face to me. Examines mine, unsmiling. I can feel myself blushing.

‘Yeah, well. You're lucky I'm an awesome guy. Very forgiving.' An almost-smile.

‘Thought you were a peaceful kind of a guy.'

‘Ha. Nearly got expelled from my last school for fighting. Thought I was over it, though. Obviously not. Don't really see what the big deal is, if you're both up for it, I mean.'

‘What did your mum say?'

‘Said she's going to send me to my dad's. Standard response from split parents. What do the ones who are still together threaten you with? Boarding school?'

‘I haven't been caught fighting. Couldn't really say.'

‘Saw a movie about a boarding school once, girls' one. They seemed to have a pretty good time. Interesting uniform code.'

‘Oh shut up.'

‘By the way, you know you're wagging class right now? Bell went ages ago.'

‘Did it?'

‘Yeah. But you're here now, so …' He shrugs. ‘Since you're already on the slippery slide to doom, may as well make the most of it. I'm going for a swim. Coming?'

‘I don't know.'

‘Come on, Jane. It's freakin' boiling. Can you imagine Rourke in this weather? She'll be a mad woman. She's probably brought a weapon to class.'

‘I'm not on holiday, though.'

‘You will be soon if you keep hanging round with me.'

‘I'll come but I'm not swimming.'

‘We'll see, Jane Eyre.'

‘Why do you call me that?'

‘Can't remember your real name. Helen? Heather? Hayley?'

‘Oh shut up.'

The bush hums as we wind down the side of the gully. There must have been a fire through not long ago, tree trunks are scorched charcoal, their regrowth a shock of acid green. The new leaves start at the base of the trunk and feather out, all the way up the branches, making the trees look like giant tentacled creatures rising up from the earth.

‘How much further?' I ask.

Josh is ahead of me, picking our way through the rocks. ‘Bit. Down the bottom. Listen.'

I strain my ears to sift through the hiss of the cicadas. I can just make out the rushing of water. Using the rocks like the steps of an amphitheatre we make our way deeper into the gully. The opposite side looms taller and taller as we go down and I have the feeling of being folded into the spine of a great, lush book. The rush of water intensifies and soon I can feel the damp on my skin and see a sandy bank through the trees. A wide flow of dark sparkling water gushes around hulks of rock.

Josh heads downstream, along a narrow goat track by the water. I follow. Soft grass overhangs, stroking the running water. Beneath the surface, the smooth flat stones are silver and copper. We step up over a boulder and then I can see where the stream leads to a big shimmering body of water, four times the size of a backyard pool.

‘Told you it was worth it.' Josh pulls his singlet over his head. I can feel myself blushing again. It's fair to say he looks like he gets a good amount of exercise. He starts to climb a track that leads back into the bush.

‘Where you going?'

‘Up there.' He points to a rocky ledge at the top of a cliff face. The drop into the water is about ten metres.

‘No way,' I say.

‘Yeah. You have to try it.'

‘I'll pass.'

Josh shrugs, follows the well-worn path, hoists himself up one rock face, then another. I hesitate and then start to follow. He glances over his shoulder, gives me a grin.

‘This doesn't mean I'm jumping,' I say.

‘Yeah, yeah.'

We get to the top. It is a huge slab of rock like a balcony overlooking the water. Josh doesn't even walk to the edge and peer over, instead he runs – taking three quick strides – and launches himself into the air. He lets out a whoop as he drops from sight. Then there is the smack of his body hitting the water below. I walk gingerly to the edge and peer over. The water's surface is unsettled but I can't see Josh.

‘Josh?'

A hot rush comes up the back of my neck. I wait.

‘Josh?'

Nothing. Not even bubbles. I scream his name. I kick off my shoes. There is no time for the tie. No time even for a deep breath. I leap from the edge of the rock. There is air rushing past my face, and the water coming toward me and then it is in my ears and eyes, nothing but green. The cold prickles my scalp. I lunge in the direction I hope is up, lungs aching from the shock of the drop and the cold and not enough air. I break through the surface, gasping, look left and right and behind. Nothing but rippling water and still, silent bush. I dive back under but I can't see anything, not even knowing which direction to look. I come back up to the surface.

‘Josh?'

And then there is laughter. Josh steps out from behind a boulder on the bank.

‘Whoa, I didn't expect you to jump in! I'm touched. No really.' He laughs so hard he doubles over, hands on his knees.

My breath catches. I turn and swim to a rock, realise I still have my socks on.

‘Oh come on. That was hilarious.'

‘You shouldn't have done that.'