Dreaming of Amelia (48 page)

•   I noted that Roberto Garcia did not laugh. Neither did Constance — and Bill's laughter had an unpleasant edge. I'm afraid that Chris Botherit did laugh (but kindly, I hope).

•   ‘Well, I'll lead the charge then!' said Constance, cutting through the talk again. ‘Right, ground 1 — well, if your only excuse for not attending an exam is that you were visiting a
ghost
, you
don't
have an excuse! So, yes, tick! Ground 2, well, the police might have gone soft on Riley but it's as clear as the dew that he's guilty, so that's another tick! Moving on! Ground —'

•   Here, Patricia Aganovic suggested, politely, that maybe Constance was not the right person to be leading this discussion since, ‘after all, you didn't come to any of the interviews with Amelia and Riley, and have never even met them'. Bill said he considered that irrelevant, and thought that Constance was doing fine. Constance herself drew in breath ready to continue, when —

•   A voice exclaimed, ‘I hereby address this meeting!' and we all turned as one and realised, to our shock, that Emily Thompson was standing in the open doorway. How long had she been there? Her eyes were flashing. She strode across the room, stood at the head of the table, straightened her back, narrowed her eyes and glared at us each in turn.

•   Chris Botherit spoke up in gentle confusion to say, ‘Em, did you not get my email? I'm afraid I said you couldn't come to the meeting.'

•   ‘If I wasn't obedient when I was a student here,' said Emily, ‘what made you think I would be now?'

•   ‘Oh, it's this girl again,' muttered Constance.

•   Roberto Garcia, who had cheered considerably since Emily walked in, flung out his arms and announced, ‘I hand the meeting over to Emily!'

•   ‘Can he do that?' Lucy Wexford (Music Coordinator) wondered.

•   ‘No,' smiled Bill Ludovico. ‘He can't. On the road, Emily.' He gestured with a thumb, meaning that Emily should leave.

•   Roberto cast a dark look in Bill's direction. ‘I can do what I want. I am Chair!' And turned his moody gaze back onto Emily.

•   Emily paused suspensefully, then: ‘BEHOLD!' she cried (unexpected).

•   ‘Behold! Here you all sit,' — her arms swept the room — ‘in the grandeur of your own incompetence!'

•   Startled murmurs; some smiles; an amused, rather patronising eyerolling from Bill.

•   ‘Imagine!' Her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘Imagine taking a scholarship away from a beautiful, innocent waif who has only just clawed her way back from the jaws of death!' (Guilty, defensive looks around the table.) ‘And from a handsome, charming young man who has just been in trouble with the police!' (Confused murmurs of, ‘Well, but, um …')

•   ‘But let us set aside the extensiveness of your immortality!' (I think she meant immorality but I was glad to be immortal.) ‘I set before you your seven grounds for termination!' At this, she took seven brightly coloured, uninflated balloons from her pocket and placed them on the table before her.

•   ‘Ground 1!' Emily blew up a balloon, her eyes large and round, her cheeks swelling out, her face turning pale pink. ‘That Amelia did not go to her HSC exam and she didn't have an excuse!' This, a little breathless, pointing to the now inflated balloon.

•   ‘Didn't have an excuse!? Why, I have read the transcript! She had an excellent excuse! She had to go to see a friend in a mental institution
who was going to take her own life! Oh, I know what you're going to say! That there
is
no mental institution in Castle Hill! Well, but I've spoken to Toby, and he tells me that there
was
one. In another century! It was a lunatic asylum! Is there a better excuse than that? Having to visit the past because a ghost was going to take her own life?! NO! There is not!
Who amongst you has ever had to save the life of a ghost?
'

•   And she took a pen from Lucy Wexford's hand and popped the balloon.

•   ‘Ground 2!' She blew up another balloon. ‘That Riley has been charged with assault. This one's easy. No, he hasn't. The charge is gone. All that is left is a fight. Boys are always fighting. They are children.' And she popped that balloon.

•   ‘Ground 3!' A third balloon. ‘They didn't tell you the exact wickedness of their criminal records. My dear people, they would not have got the scholarships if they had! So, of
course
they didn't tell you.'

•   Here, she went to pop the balloon, but there was a clearing of throats around the table — ‘You are not convinced! Well, convince this! Juvenile records are sealed for a reason! Young people are
allowed
to make mistakes — yes, even serious mistakes — and then
leave those mistakes behind
and
recreate themselves
! It's the foundation of the law! Who amongst you dares to shake the foundations of the law?'

•   And she popped the balloon. Now she was getting really breathless. She picked up a fourth balloon, handed it to Jacob Mazzerati and said, ‘Can you blow this up?'

•   While Jacob blew up this balloon, Emily's voice changed completely. It took on a conversational tone. ‘Oh, this one. They broke into the music rooms after hours. Are you guys serious? Do you know how often Lyd, Cass and I broke into various aspects of this school after hours? And within hours. What, are you going to retrospectively
expel all three of us?' And, just as casually, she reached over with her pen and popped the fourth balloon (which was still, at this point, being blown up by Jacob. He blinked, disconcerted, but then, goodnaturedly, picked up another balloon and began to inflate it.).

•   ‘Five!' cried Emily, back in dramatic stride, ‘that Riley
may
have destroyed the artwork of Seb Mantegna! Need I go on? Did you hear that word ‘
may
'? Are you people quite mad? Let's choose a few more random crimes and say that Riley
may
have done them! Evidence, my friends! Have you
any
evidence? Red paint splatters on Riley's clothes?' Here, Emily paused suddenly — a little frown crumpled her brow. Then she continued, ‘Anybody
see
him at the scene of the crime? Any witnesses? What have you
got
, guys? Come on? Give it to me.'

•   ‘She's right about that,' Patricia Aganovic said. ‘I meant to say something myself.' And
Patricia
leaned over and popped the balloon for Emily. ‘You're doing great, Em,' she added. ‘But maybe don't share Cass's former crimes with the room?'

•   ‘Thank you,' said Emily, while Jacob obligingly blew up the next balloon. Now Em's voice became contemptuous, ‘A
set of castanets!
Well, I would repeat my previous arguments about proving people guilty, and I would add that the castanets were returned so it's technically not stealing, just a loan, and they were probably just misplaced not stolen at all, but
I can't be bothered
. Who even
cares
about
castanets
? I mean, what even
are
they?'

•   Here, Lucy Wexford interrupted in a small, irritable voice to say, ‘Yes, well, flamenco dancers … Oh, forget it, Emily, I don't really think they stole them anyway. Let's kill this ground, shall we?' We waited for Lucy to pop the balloon but I think that was below her dignity, so Emily did.

•   ‘One more ground!' Emily cried. Jacob had the balloon ready to hand over. ‘They pretended to like us even though they didn't! I have
so many things to say to that
! Of course they liked us! Are you mad? What's not to like? Oh, yes, yes, I know, I heard that Riley wrote a ghost story in which he said he didn't like us. Well, hello? It was a
ghost story
. Yes, yes, I know it was supposed to be
true
, but Lydia asked me to point out here that her own “true” ghost story had an actual
ghost
in it, and she wants to know if Mr Botherit really believed that a ghost lives inside her computer?'

•   Here Mr Botherit interrupted thoughtfully: ‘I remember Lydia's story. I did wonder whether that whole thing was an invention or whether — no, no, not that there
was
a ghost, but that somebody might have hacked into her computer somehow and pretended to be a ghost?'

•   ‘No,' said Emily apologetically. ‘It was a fictional framing device for her nonfiction ghost story. Those are Lydia's words. She told me to tell you. But you've interfered with my train of thought. Let me get back on the wagon. Yes! Friendship! Okay, so, Riley's story said he didn't like us but if there's one thing I've learned this year it's that you can't believe a word of things in writing! Everything has shades of dark and light! Even history! It's all slanted and biased and exaggerated! Do you think
my
ghost story about Term 2 was completely true? I mean it was based on truth but did I include all the illegal, sordid, sex, drug, drinking details about the parties in Term 2? Of course not! That was private. And did I mention, in my story, that the reason Seb joined the drama was because I'd forged a letter to him in Mr Garcia's name? No! I pretended that I was
surprised
by the letter! Because I didn't want to get expelled! And Toby has been telling me that nothing ever happened between him and Amelia, even though he had a serious crush on her, but do you think
he
mentioned that crush in
his
ghost story about Term 2?! No! And those are just the deliberate twists of the truth. Don't get me started about self-delusion! I mean, seriously, who can believe a
ghost story
?!'

•   ‘Whatever is this girl talking about?' sniffed Constance. ‘And what's going on with the balloons?'

•   ‘I'm so glad to know who wrote that letter,' murmured Roberto Garcia.

•   ‘And even if Amelia and Riley
didn't
like us,' Emily continued, ignoring Constance and Roberto, ‘well, they were
right
not to! Lydia kissed Riley, which was not exactly being a good friend to Amelia. But I was a terrible friend! I tried to break them up!
I
made a mistake and told Riley that Amelia was cheating! And you think
they
were the bad friends? —' Pause again — and she popped the last balloon.

•   Before anybody had a chance to respond, Constance cried, ‘This girl talks a lot of nonsense! Blow those balloons up again! All seven of them, Jacob!' Jacob smiled at Constance politely, but did not blow up any balloons. ‘Ah, never mind the balloons! Why are we listening to this loop-de-loop. She thinks Amelia went to see a ghost on the day of her exam!'

•   Emily seemed to grow taller. ‘Why should Amelia
not
have visited a ghost? Everybody knows there are ghosts in this very building! I can sense their presence right this moment! I can smell the lilac talcum powder they wear!'

•   ‘Just watch your credibility there, Em,' murmured Patricia Aganovic.

•   But Constance was flashing back at Em: ‘If there
is
a ghost here,' she cried, ‘it is surely the ghost of Kendall Mason Patterson, angry at the way his money is being spent on the likes of such young demons as Amelia and Riley!'

•   Here, Emily paused a moment, another slight frown, then her face cleared and she cried, ‘Just because they have made mistakes before does not make them demons! People are
often
violent just once and then never again!'

•   Here Mr Botherit could not help interjecting, hesitantly, ‘I feel like you once said the opposite, Em?' but Emily was in her stride: ‘That's why there's a law against similar fact evidence! It's more prejudicial than probative! I would never say anything like that, Mr B, and if I did, it was a mistake, and I am very open to change in my own opinions, just not in other people's —'

•   She was interrupted by Constance who quavered, ‘You mark my words, girl, if they are not demons, I'm a monkey's uncle. Oh, they are wicked young miscreants! I do not doubt that they engage in all manner of wild, youthful ways — alcoholic beverages and drugs; looking at pictures of nude young women; vandalism; the works! When they laugh, it's demonic! And they gaze with such unnerving intensity! Do not tell me that they have changed! A leopard cannot change its spots! Do not …'

•   Constance's clichés accumulated, as various people tried to interrupt, but the frown was deepening on Emily's brow. She grew quiet. She looked at the door of the conference room, and at the window. She looked up at the ceiling. She scratched her ear.

•   Then, suddenly — unexpectedly — she ran from the room.

•   There was a long silence. Bill Ludovico was frowning deeply. People watched the open door, listened to the sound of Emily's footsteps — a pitter patter along the corridor, then, unexpectedly, a pitter patter running up, up, up steps. The pitter patter faded. We raised our eyebrows at each other. Another long pause … then …

•   
BANG!

•   It came from the ceiling. We all looked up. Quite distinctly, we heard Em's voice calling, ‘HEY, YOU! DOWN THERE!' It seemed to be coming from the air vent in the corner of the ceiling.

•   We looked at each other, bewildered. Silence. Then from the distance, pitter patter pitter, and along a corridor, getting louder, pitter patter pitter PATTER PITTER — and there was Em, breathless at the door.

•   ‘Come with me,' she ordered.

•   Mystified, we followed her. Along the corridor. Up the stairs. Into the archives room. Past the compacting shelves to the far wall where there was an inconspicuous, low grey door. She opened it, stood back — and waved her hands so we could look in.