Sliver Moon Bay: The Looking (10 page)

Soon after Chris went trucking,
Lilian got an offer from a friend to work behind the bar in his
pub. She took it cause it was only night time work twice a week and
she rearranged her hours at the salon, working some afternoons and
Saturday mornings. I took care of Starling when Lilian was working,
and the two of us had a great time together. Starling was such an
easy baby to take care of; she really was as good as gold and never
cried, only when she was teething but we had medicine to give her
for that, which seemed to help some. Anyway, it was nothing and on
the whole she was a pleasure and we got on very well. Cause of our
situation, one could say that we were joined at the hip from the
very beginning, so much so that Chris even got a little jealous and
he berated Lilian for giving me the baby to take care of too much.
Lilian told me Chris was concerned because he didn’t want to burden
me with the care of a little baby, said he wanted me to be more
like other kids, to run around with friends and do things kids my
age usually did but I was never like that, ever; I’ve always
preferred to be by myself, to be free to do my own thing, and
obviously I knew that Chris wanted me out of the way to have
Starling more to himself. Course, Lilian would never admit that
Chris was jealous of me and kept going on about me being a
carefree, normal kid so I pretended that I agreed with her, just to
make her happy.

In all honesty, the six months
that Chris was away was the best time me, Lilian and Starling ever
had. But Chris returned and we were back to how it was. For a bit
we had money and things were good; we even went on a short holiday
to a real nice beach but then everything went back to normal and we
struggled again. Chris worked at a mechanic’s for a bit but then
they sacked him for no reason and there was a fist fight between
him and the boss and Chris caught the worst of it cause the other
dude was much bigger but still, Lilian was proud of Chris for
standing up for his rights, much good that it did him. So after he
got beat up, it was only Lilian working at the pub and the salon,
and Chris stayed home with Starling while he recuperated from his
injuries. Well, the healing took a lot longer than expected; Chris
seemed to really like the recuperating process and as time went on
he got used to taking it easy and even slacked off on his parenting
responsibilities cause every afternoon he left me with Starling
while he disappeared for hours, jogging in the hills and taking
photographs. He did take some beautiful pictures of sunsets and of
animals and trees and of people who happened to be about in those
surroundings. He took a lot of pictures of people, and they were
good, really natural. The folks in them didn’t even realize they
were being photographed, that’s how good he was but Chris was never
happy with the results and he didn’t like anybody looking at his
pics. I was never allowed to tinker with his phone, as he put it,
but I always looked when he wasn’t around just to see what he was
up to. There were heaps of pictures of places and people. And cars.
Chris took a lot of photos of all sorts of cars. Motorcycles as
well. So this was how he spent his time when he was supposed to be
sick. But I wasn’t going to say anything even though I knew that
Chris could have easily found himself a new job. Then one night he
told us we were going to move.

He told us he’d had an offer to
work on a fishing trawler and that he’d accepted it. He was to
start as soon as possible so we were moving in two days, and taking
only a few things with us, only personal stuff that would fit into
the truck and the caravan as we’d have everything we need waiting
for us on Cuckoo Island. I was stunned; I truly did not expect this
cause we had stayed put here for almost three years now, the
longest we’d been anywhere as far as I could remember. Lilian, of
course, had known about this and she kept apologizing to me for not
telling me sooner; she was sorry I’d leaving my school with all my
friends behind, and she hoped I wasn’t too upset. The way she went
on about it, I knew she wanted to be reassured that everything was
going to be alright so I told her the truth. I wasn’t the least bit
upset. The sort of friends I’d had here I’d find anywhere and as
for school… School is just school, Mum, I told Lilian and she was
so happy that she cried. She was going to miss all her friends at
the salon and even the staff at the pub where she’d really bonded
with the other barmaid and even some of the regulars; well, she
always was a people person, so I had no doubt that she was
attached. The salon people gave her a good send-off, which took
place at the pub where she cried again cause it was there she and
Chris first told everyone about Starling, about Lilian
expecting.

Here the dream ends. Lilian’s
turned on the television, over in the kitchen slash lounge space.
It’s morning, but only just. The news comes on. It soon gets
personal. I can’t help myself; I have to see. So I stick my head
around the partition. Lilian’s sitting there, expressionless,
hugging a steaming cup of coffee. She’s glued to the newsreader
ladydude who tells us that the cadaver dog has failed to find any
trace of the Missing Cuckoo Island Toddler — a photograph of a
smiling Starling clutching her favourite sandals pops up in a
window behind the newsreader, comes into focus while the ladydude
craps on…
and investigators are now pursuing a new direction in
this puzzling case, following reports by local residents of several
sightings of an small dark-green sedan seen loitering in the area
in the days prior to the toddler’s disappearance.

The photograph goes. The news
goes on. Lilian takes a sip of her coffee. I pull my head in. I
don’t need to get up yet. There’s nothing to see here.

33

Chris returns. We’re having a
family breakfast around our little kitchen pull out when Detective
Martin knocks on the door. We know it’s him cause nobody else has
come over since the search parties ended. So it’s been a while and
during this while we’ve only seen him.

So Chris opens the door. There
he is, Detective Martin, with Captain Josh and the other policeman,
Jim the auxiliary, who’s mostly on call cause that’s how much crime
happens on Cuckoo Island. Normally, the dude transmits fishing
tips, community news and the weather report from the station in his
spare time. But not today. Today, it looks like people will just
have to stick their heads out of the window to see if it’s raining
cause today apparently the man is needed on the job. Okay, we get
it. A crime has occurred.

The exchange is brief. Chris is
taken down to the station for another interview, voluntarily, but
really, every one of us knows he’s being arrested. Chris knows; he
gives Lilian a look to tell her to keep it together which I doubt
she’ll be able to do, then gives me the same look except this one
tells me to keep it together for Lilian’s sake. So I nod and he
goes. Lilian bursts into tears as soon as the door bangs. At least
she’s being quiet, sobbing just so, looking out the kitchen window.
I’m being quiet too. I’m thinking about Chris and I’m feeling kind
of proud. He really handled himself well just then. He could have
refused. He could have called a lawyer. Which he might do still
cause the interview is going to take a turn. In a new and
unpleasant direction. You’d have to be a total idiot not to
realize.

So we sit and wait.

The waiting takes most of the
day. It’s slow going cause it’s not a school day. I wish I could
disappear to the beach but I don’t trust Lilian alone in the house.
I know there’s a new bottle of vodka in the cupboard under the sink
and she’s been eyeing off her magic pills. And she’s already taken
her daily dose. So we stay put, with each other. She reads, I read.
In our separate spaces until a knock on the door breaks the
mood.

I look out through the gap in
between the curtains on my window. It’s him, that bald reporter
Chris threw out when we first got home from the hospital. He’s
snooping again, has his camera slung over his shoulder. He has a
phone in his hand. Well, good luck with that. He’ll get no signal
on this thing out here today. But he’s oblivious. He knocks
again.

‘Lilian! Can I speak with
you?’

Lilian’s bed squeaks, her
window slides open.

‘No. Go away, please. I have
nothing to say.’

She slides the window shut and
lies back down on her bed.

The dude takes no notice. He
stands in front of the caravan, just a little way off, on a raised
dirt mound so he can see inside. He’s stretching his neck towards
Lilian’s window like an inquisitive goose. But her curtains are
drawn. Mine too but I remain glued to the gap.

‘Lilian. I’d like to speak with
you about Chris’s arrest.’

So, the goose is not going
away. This could be fun.

‘Do you want me to get rid of
him, Mum?’

I’ve stuck my head around the
partition. She’s lying on the bed, with her eyes closed. She looks
like she might have a headache. She nods.

So I put the kettle on. It
doesn’t take much. But he’s oblivious out there, to what’s coming.
He’s shouting.

‘There’s been a development,
Lilian! Can! We! Talk! Please!’

The man ought to be a gym
teacher. He’d be heard from one end of the gym to the other,
without a megaphone.

Ah, finally. The kettle starts
singing. I give it two elephants’ worth and then I take it off the
hot plate. It’s steaming and I carry it well away from my body. I
really hate burns.

I open the door. The dude is
right there, in front of the steps, poised with his camera. He gets
it, full on, in the lens. Some of the water spills on his trousers,
but not as much as I intended. It’s just a small splash but it does
the job. The dude shrieks, jumps backwards. I bang the door
shut.

‘Ahhh! What the fuck, Sarah!’
screams the dude.

I feel so alive, it’s
wonderful. I scared the wits out of him cause he’s forgot himself,
forgot where he is and who he’s dealing with. Just for a second but
it was worth it.

And now, he’s remembered.

‘I’m sorry, Sarah,’ he goes.
‘Please, don’t do this. Ever. You could have seriously hurt me. You
don’t want to do that, do you?’

I’m filling up the kettle
again. I’m pretty sure he can hear the tap whistling, the water
hissing. I’m having so much fun; I only wish Starling were
here.

‘Fuck off, Baldy!’

I peek over the partition at
Lilian. She’s placed a pillow over her face but I can see she’s
laughing. Her whole body is convulsing with it. She looks like
she’s going to pee herself.

And here we go again. I slide
the kitchen window open. Baldy’s standing way back, looking
grim.

‘Call your mother, Sarah. She
needs to hear this.’

Okay, dude, you’ve asked for
it.

Splash! Splaaaash!

Now Baldy gets it. And he’s
packing up shop without having taken one snap. Not one. He’s
running down the path, with his fancy expensive camera bouncing
against his side, swinging like it’s a funfair ride; oh, it’s
delicious viewing, seeing Baldy sprint towards his car, parked
somewhere below, hidden in the bushes. I’ll bet it’s just parked
off the road a bit, for everyone to see. If only old Drake was
alive. He could show him how to hide in the bushes, cause Baldy
here has no clue. Then Baldy disappears ‘round the bend.

Ah, well, all good things must
come to an end.

34

They do. In the late afternoon
Silly Bitch comes over for a visit. I hear her car at the end of
the driveway, past the bend. I look out the window and see her
lumbering up the path, wrapped in a coat, looking like a great big
mama bear. Pity I can’t do the kettle trick on her. Course I won’t.
I wouldn’t unless she was a bad person. But she’s not a bad person.
She means well and she’s married to Captain Josh. And she was good
to me at the hospital. And heaps of times at school. I really ought
to try to like her a bit more. Okay, I will try. Starting from
now.

I let her in, take her coat.
She’s all flustered, sweating all over. Plunges into school related
small talk but she clearly has something else to say. While this is
going on, Lilian makes her a cup of herbal tea. Brews a black
coffee for herself. I don’t like herbal tea and I’m not allowed
coffee so I get a coke out of the fridge and we all sit down around
the kitchen pull out.

‘Lilian,’ Silly Bitch—I mean
Amy, begins. She’s holding her teaspoon weirdly in her right hand,
as if she were ready to use it as a screwdriver. It makes her look
like a car mechanic for some reason. Must be the overalls she’s
wearing. I didn’t even know they made them in her size. But they
do. These are ample. Very ample. And very green. I don’t know why
she spent the money buying them though. She’d been better off
wearing a garbage bag, the big, garden size one, hooked up to a
pair of clip on suspenders. It’s the same thing really.

‘L-Lilian,’ continues Amy
shakily. ‘I don’t know if you’ve been told but… I’m not sure how…,’
She’s looking at her for a clue or encouragement, I guess, but none
is forthcoming. Lilian’s staring at her, without expression. She’s
hugging her steaming cup in both hands as usual.

‘There’s been a development. We
know,’ I say, with a nod to spur her on. I’m trying to help her
out. She’s gonna drag this out and I don’t think it’s the best
thing for any of us. We know, Silly Bitch! I want to shout at her,
we know! Chris is being questioned again, so they must have found
something! Well, duh. Spit it out! Course, outwardly, I remain
calm. I have to, for Lilian’s sake. She’s going to flip.

‘Well. I just want you to know
that we’re all behind you,’ Amy goes on, looking from Lilian to me
and nodding her fat jelly face silly. ‘Anything you need, just
ask.’