Cassie (21 page)

One hour wasn't long to get everything done.

And Holly had already spent twenty minutes sitting on a bench outside the clothes shop, checking the place out. Casing the joint. She'd watched the staff move around the store, trying to detect a pattern. There were three assistants and one stayed close to the cash register. The other two helped customers or occasionally ducked out of sight through a door at the back of the shop, with ‘Staff Only' written above it. But the more she watched, the more she understood there was no pattern.

This was stupid. She was wasting time. When it came down to it, there was only one course of action. Go in there and do it. But she was so scared. The last time she'd been in that shop, it had been wonderful. She'd had so much fun. But of course she hadn't been a criminal then. This time, she couldn't fool herself.

If this were a scene in a movie, it would have been easy. There would be huge, swivelling security cameras with flashing red lights. A cinch for the hero, or anti-hero, to identify and avoid or simply place a towel over the lenses. But Holly couldn't even see the cameras. And she didn't have a towel.

All she had was a sudden image of her face, in glorious and crystal-clear close-up, looming on a television screen in front of the startled gazes of her mum and Fern. And then the voice-over. ‘Police are anxious to trace the whereabouts of this person . . .'

She looked at her watch for the twentieth time. Thirty-five minutes left. And once she was done in there she still had another job to do. Definitely time to move. She tried to stand, but her legs wouldn't work. So she checked her watch again. ‘Holly, just do it. In and out. Be confident.' She felt an arm around her shoulders. ‘You can do it!'

Holly knew one thing. She couldn't have done it without support.

Come to think about it, she
wasn't
doing it, even with support. The hand on her shoulder moved down to between her shoulder blades. And shoved. Holly got up on wobbly legs.

‘Okay. I'm doing it,' she said. ‘Look. If it comes to bail, I have some cash in a savings account. Tell Mum to use that. If bail isn't an option, then . . .'

‘Go!'

‘Okay.'

She shifted the straps on her school backpack. They were digging into her shoulders. Then she moved into the store. If guilt-detectors had been invented, her entrance would have been greeted with sirens and red, flashing lights. As it was, she could feel the eyes of the world on her.

Fern

Fern applied the handbrake. She had parked in the shopping centre car park, but not in one of the designated disabled spots. Cassie hated parking there. She'd pointed out to her mother that, once in her wheelchair, it wasn't a problem getting to entrances. And using a disabled spot was taking up space that someone else might need.

Fern thought that was very noble of her, particularly since Cassie wasn't the one who had to push the wheelchair for considerable distances. She didn't argue, though. Arguing with Cassie usually wasn't worth the effort.

She unfolded the wheelchair and lifted Cass into it.

Holly

Demi, Kari and Georgia were sitting on the bench when Holly came out of the shop.

‘Hey, Holly,' said Demi. ‘Success?'

‘Absolutely,' Holly replied. ‘Piece of cake.'

‘We waited for you after school,' said Georgia. ‘Thought you must have chickened out. But here you are. Fancy hanging together?'

‘Not really,' said Holly. ‘Me and Amy have got things to do. I'll catch you later.'

Amy got up from the bench and put an arm through Holly's. They strolled away and didn't look back.

‘Tell me what happened,' said Amy. ‘I couldn't see what you were doing in there.'

They hadn't gone far. To another bench, in fact, outside a cosmetics shop. Holly shifted the empty backpack off her shoulders and dumped it on the floor.

‘God, I was so nervous,' she said.

‘That much I knew,' said Amy.

‘All the while I was in there, I thought someone would demand to see what was in my backpack. And that would have been just great. It would have been fun trying to explain that I was returning the clothes, not stealing them.'

‘So where did you leave it?'

‘I
did
learn something from Demi as it turns out. I picked up a skirt from the rails and then dropped it. As I crouched down to pick it up, I took the parcel out of my pack and tucked it under the rail. It was as close to the register as I could get without being spotted.'

‘There's no chance they could miss it?'

‘No way. As soon as one of the salesgirls goes down that aisle she'll trip over it.'

‘They won't think it's a bomb, or anything?'

‘It's soft and squishy. Pretty unlikely.'

‘And you feel better?'

Holly gave the question some thought. ‘Better' was too weak a word. Even ‘relief' didn't come close. She'd been carrying a heavy weight for days. The guilt of shoplifting. She couldn't even look at the clothes tucked into her wardrobe. She kept the doors firmly shut. But she knew they were there. They called to her through the closed doors, pricking at her conscience. Now the weight was gone. She felt dizzy in its absence. She kicked at the backpack on the floor.

‘I feel lighter,' she said.

Amy looked at the cosmetics shop.

‘Just one more thing,' she said. ‘And then it's over.'

Holly sighed. She wanted to remember what she had done, the choices she had made and how close she had come to ruining everything. She
needed
to remember.

Just one more thing.

The cosmetics. She couldn't return them. Okay, there were a couple of items – a lipstick and a tube of foundation – that hadn't been opened, but it wasn't worth it. So she'd gone into the shop and priced all the items she'd taken. It totalled just over one hundred and ten dollars. At the ATM she had withdrawn two hundred dollars from her Plastic Surgery Emergency Fund.

Not that she called it that anymore. But she hadn't had the chance to think up another name. There was plenty of time for that.

She'd stuffed one hundred and twenty dollars into an envelope, along with a short note explaining why the money was there. It was similar to the note she'd put in the parcel of stolen clothing. She took the envelope from the pocket of her blazer, wrote the address of the shop on the front and attached a stamp. It was the easiest way of doing it. After all, she couldn't just hand it over at the checkout. Not without risking identification. And as long as the money was returned, an extra day or two wouldn't matter.

Holly and Amy walked to the post office. Holly took a deep breath. When the envelope slid into the slot, it was as if another weight lifted from her. Somehow it was easier to hold her head up.

She looked around at the shoppers milling past. She met the eyes of a few. It felt good.

It was Cassie who spotted them first. She gave a huge shriek and her arms waved frantically. Fern looked up. Holly and Amy were stepping away from a post box. She waved.

‘Hey, girls,' she said. ‘Taxi's here. Are you all done?'

Holly hugged her aunt. Amy crouched and said hello to Cassie. Fern smiled.

‘Aunty Fern,' said Holly. ‘We've still got twenty-five minutes. Can we take Cassie for a burger? Please? Pretty please?'

‘Well . . .'

‘Pretty please with sugar on?'

‘You could come with us,' added Amy. ‘Holly's buying.'

Fern shook her head. ‘I'd feel a little out of place,' she said.

‘Do you fancy a burger, Cass?' said Holly.

It was easy to read Cassie's reaction, but Fern translated anyway.

‘She says “fancy” isn't the right word and “love” wouldn't be going far enough.' Fern sighed. ‘Go on, then. I'll meet you back here in twenty-five minutes. And no longer. I said I'd pick your mum up from work and she'll have my guts for garters if we're late. Actually, she'll have
your
guts for garters, Hol.'

‘Twenty-five. We'll be here.'

Holly

‘Welcome to Burger Bonanza. Can I take your order?'

The girl behind the counter chewed gum as she rattled off the words in a monotone.

‘We're still deciding,' said Holly.

They'd wheeled Cassie up to the counter and were examining an illuminated board that showed the food available.

‘Okay, Cass,' said Holly. ‘Let's do this by a process of elimination. How about a BB Superburger? No? Can't say I blame you. All right. How about a double cheeseburger? Fair enough. So what do you say to a . . .'

It took time. But Holly wasn't going to rush even though the girl behind the counter tapped her foot and chewed quicker. The real challenge was the drink. She and Amy ran through all possible combinations before Holly remembered.

‘Full cream milk?' she asked.

Cassie smiled.

They took the food to a table in the corner and unwrapped it. None of the stuff even vaguely resembled the pictures on the board. Amy cut up Cassie's burger while Holly brought the cup of milk to her lips.

‘Healthy appetite you've got there, Cass,' said Amy as the last fry disappeared.

A woman hovered by the table, a nervous smile on her lips.

Holly glanced up.

‘Hello,' she said.

‘Hi,' said the woman. ‘Look . . . I just wanted to say . . . well, I've been watching you. And I think it's wonderful.'

‘What's wonderful?' said Amy.

‘Teenagers get such bad press. It's lovely to see the way you've been looking after this poor girl.'

‘Well, that's very kind of you,' said Holly. ‘But we're just eating burgers.'

‘What's her disability?' asked the woman. ‘Is it cerebral palsy?'

‘Her name's Cassie,' said Holly. ‘Why don't you ask her?'

The woman's smile slipped a little, but she crouched beside the wheelchair.

‘Hello, sweetie,' she said in a loud, slow voice.