Jill Jackson - 04 - Watch the World Burn (27 page)

One year later. Tuesday, 20 December, 9.25pm

‘Reece, you can’t be serious! There are five days to go until Christmas. You can’t open anything yet.’ Erin Hart sat in a corner of her lounge, her feet tucked up, sipping a Scotch.

‘Mum, don’t you know that because of months of marketing propaganda, us children are being whipped into a Christmas frenzy by greedy corporations?’ said Reece, cross-legged under the Christmas tree, picking through the wrapped presents. ‘I’m in a frenzy.’

‘I really must stop sending you children to school,’ said Erin.

Callie, in shortie pyjamas, her skin spotted with coloured lights from the tree, was stretched out on the other lounge. She put her book down. ‘Yeah, Mum. Let’s do one,’ she said.

‘Do one? Open a present? Come on kids, where will it stop?’ said Erin. ‘If we open one tonight, you’ll want another tomorrow.’

‘No, we won’t,’ said Reece. ‘We promise.’

‘And anyway,’ said Callie, ‘who writes these rules? It’s our family. We can make it a tradition. You don’t have to do everything the government tells you.’

‘And you’re the local member anyway, so you’re the boss,’ said Reece.

‘We can just do one of Dad’s,’ said Callie.

‘Oh, yeah, put me right in it. I would never hear the end of that,’ said Erin. ‘Okay. Just one, and it has to be one we’ve given each other, so no one else gets offended.’

She and Callie joined Reece at the tree. There really are too many presents here, Erin thought. Next year I’ll buy fewer. Which is just what I said last year. Still, not all these were for her children. Erin spotted one she’d wrapped yesterday. She’d take it in for Hamish on their last day at work tomorrow.

‘Mum, you go first. We bought you one together,’ said Callie. ‘I chose it.’

‘And I thought it was dumb,’ said Reece. ‘But Callie wouldn’t let me get you a chemistry kit.’

‘Oh, thanks, Callie,’ said Erin. ‘How am I supposed to make rubber now in my spare time?’

‘Which is what I said,’ said Reece.

Erin grinned and accepted the soft package from Callie. Oh oh. Clothing. Her children had bought her something to wear. She kept the smile fully fastened and opened her present. Huh. A black one-piece swimming costume. She turned it over. A gorgeous red ruffle delineated the bodice. Cute. It would never fit.

‘What size is this?’ she asked.

‘Twelve,’ said Callie. ‘Your size.’

Erin’s smile widened. How thoughtful. Since the bombing, she’d swum every day, determined to make the most of her life. After all, she’d been three metres away from losing it. Two people in the five-metre kill-zone had not been as lucky.

She turned the pretty suit over and over in her hands, checked the label. Size twelve. Wow. A year ago that would have read sixteen.

‘All right, children,’ she said. ‘I guess I shall feed and clothe you for another year at least.’

Callie and Reece grinned and dived for a present.

Troy sat at the back of the school gymnasium, as far as he could manage from the huge speakers he’d paid for. He wanted to like the music – he gave it ten minutes of concentrated focus, trying to get it – but in the end he contented himself with the fact that almost everyone else in here seemed to be into it. A few beers could have made it sound all right, he supposed, but that would bust his twelve-month drought, his promise to Lucy, and ruin his plans for Christmas night. No, he’d wait to quench his thirst with the two-hundred-dollar bottle of champagne that had been chilling for a year in his fridge.

He passed time trying to spot her through the strobe lights and the fifty or so writhing kids. There. Now, over there. Gail Cole. Troy tried to order the list of reasons he was grateful that Christmas night would mark their one-year anniversary. Pretty close to the top was the fact that, for the past ten years, Gail had been organising a Christmas party like this for underprivileged kids in Redfern. Did that beat the fact that she’d hired Christopher to play tonight, his first gig since finishing his sound technician course? It definitely didn’t beat her getting Chris out of a custodial sentence last year. Troy figured he could safely put that at the top of the list; she’d helped Chris to have a chance.

Troy took his eyes off Gail for a moment and watched Christopher, on stage, behind his black glasses, turntables and the wall of girls. He hadn’t been in trouble once since he’d been given the suspended sentence.

He turned his attention back to Gail and his list. Maybe he should start using fractions for ranking? Gail’s philosophical debates with Lucy were right up there – they went for hours sometimes. Troy would join in when he could, but he loved to just sit back and watch his little sister flex that brain of hers, sparring with someone who could go the distance. Just last week, Troy had noticed that Lucy had listed ‘lawyer’ as her first preference on a career-planning chart she’d done for school.

As a cop, Troy had often had to work Christmas night. And since beginning at the restaurant, he’d worked every single one. It would be the same this year. But this time, at a table for four, Lucy, Chris and Gail would be waiting – waiting for everyone else to leave, and for Troy to join them for a midnight drink at Incendie.

Dr Leah Giarratano has had a long career as a clinical psychologist. An expert in psychological trauma, sex offences and psychopathology, she has had many years’ experience working with victims and psychopaths. She has worked in psychiatric hospitals, with the Australian Defence Force, and in corrective services with offenders who suffer severe personality disorders. She has assessed and treated survivors of just about every imaginable psychological trauma, including hostages; war veterans; rape, assault and accident victims; and has worked with police, fire and ambulance officers.

Leah was also the host of the prime-time television documentary series entitled
Beyond the Darklands,
in which she delved into the minds of some of Australia’s most infamous criminals.