Sticks and Stones (23 page)

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Authors: Ilsa Evans

BOOK: Sticks and Stones
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‘Fucking bitch from
hell
. You'll get yours. Everything you deserve and fucking
more
.'

They had now reached the front door and Jake used his spare hand to open it, pulling Maddie sideways to make room for the door to swing in. A breeze came with it, lovely and light and ridiculous, under the circumstances. She took advantage of his shift in concentration to stagger awkwardly to her feet, even though she was still bent over, with her head against his side. As if they were conjoined twins. She grabbed at his hand, digging her fingers underneath his with as much force as she could muster, trying to make them let go. And she could hear herself grunting with the effort. An animal, caught in a trap.

‘You know what really amazes me?' Jake suddenly pulled his hand up and, like a puppet, she went with it. His face was now centimetres from hers, flushed with anger. Even uglier. ‘You go through life thinking you're so fucking hard done by, when really it's
you
shafting everyone else. People like you don't deserve to
live
. Fucking
parasite
.'

Maddie stared at him, startled to see sticky patches of red wine still shining his cheeks. It seemed so long ago that she had thrown it. There was a little tic pulsing steadily underneath his left eye and if she looked away it seemed, almost, as if he were winking. A bubble of laughter rose at this thought, accompanied by a surge of fear that it would be heard. She swallowed both and thought about taking him by surprise and driving her head forward, aiming for his nose with her forehead. She could almost hear the crack. But instead she contented herself with standing straighter, taller. ‘Let me go, you fucking arsehole.'

‘No problem, bitch. I'll let you go.' Jake wrenched her towards the open door and then, with a grunt of effort, thrust her through, finally releasing her hair. As she lurched over the threshold, fighting to keep her balance, he suddenly stepped forward and kicked her, hard, in the hip. And she went tumbling sideways down the two porch steps and onto the cobblestoned pathway. There she lay, leaning on one arm and breathing heavily, as she stared up at him.

‘You really haven't changed at all, have you?' She shook her head, as if amazed at the discovery. ‘Still just the same. A bully, that's all.'

‘Hey, no one asked you to come here,
sweetheart
.' He pulled the corner of his mouth up in a sneer. ‘You need to get that through your fucking thick head. No one
wants
you here. So go on, off you go. Run away. You're good at that.'

‘I'll get them back eventually,' said Maddie, but her voice stumbled over the words and they didn't sound very convincing, even to her. Nevertheless she continued because this might be her only chance. ‘I will, you know. It might take me a while, but I'll get them back. I just pray you haven't fucked them up in the meantime.'

Instead of answering immediately, Jake flicked his eyes down to her feet and then tracked them, slowly, up her body until they reached her face again. He smiled, but it was as flat as his eyes and the only sign of emotion was the little tic. ‘
Me
fuck them up? Christ, you're a classic. Just look at you. You're
disgusting
. Don't you think they deserve better than you?'

‘I know damn sure they deserve better than you. That's why I took them.'

His eyes widened as his face flushed with anger. He took a step forward and then stopped, the little tic now pulsating like an arrhythmic heartbeat. ‘Why you fucking piece of
shit
. You
bitch
. You
cow
.'

Maddie had a moment of almost fatalistic calmness. ‘Yada, yada. You really don't have much imagination, do you? Bitch, cow, slut. Same thing, over and over. Like a broken record.'

Jake's mouth opened, but his teeth remained clenched. He spoke through them anyway, shaking his head to give added emphasis. ‘You
want
me to fucking kill you, do you? Is that it?'

Maddie stared up at him. She pushed the fear away, with just a little trickling through to tremble along her words. ‘Go for it, arsehole. It's just your style anyway. Beating up anything smaller. Coward.'

Jake shook his head again, slowly, as if trying to make sense of all this. Then, even as he stared at her, his face cleared and he visibly straightened. ‘Oh,
I
see what you're doing. Very clever. You
want
me to hit you, then you can go whining off to the cops with the bruises. Try and get me charged so you can get the kids back. Christ, you really
are
a bitch aren't you?'

Maddie blinked with surprise, wondering if that had indeed been what she was doing.

‘Good try, you fucking lowlife piece of shit. But you'll have to think of something else. Now go rot in hell.' He took a step backwards and then slammed the door shut, so hard that the glass rattled in the lounge room window nearby.

‘Well, that went well, didn't it?' said Maddie lightly to no one in particular. Without moving she looked across from one neighbour's house to the other, but there was no sign of movement, despite there being cars in both driveways. Surely they must have heard the altercation. She felt a rush of thick loneliness that only added to her misery. And
here
was the nostalgia she had missed earlier.
Here
were the memories.

She knew she had to get up, and soon, but could not find the energy. Instead she felt drained, depleted, and she hurt. Her knees where she had been dragged along, her hip where she had been kicked, and her scalp, where each strand of hair was rooted in an individual socket of pain. She might have stayed there for quite some time, but for a car that rounded the top of the court behind her. That was enough to get her going, finally, because pride was one of the few things she had left.

FOURTEEN

A
fterwards, when she had gained a little perspective and started thinking through the events of that day, Maddie could not remember the trip home at all. She could recall getting into the car and fishing through her handbag for a tissue, but after that – nothing. Not the drive back through suburbia, or the trip along the freeway into the city, or even the climb up and over the Westgate Bridge. And she had absolutely no memory of the long trip back up the highway into the night. It was like the whole journey had never happened and she had been instantly transported, car and all, only to rejoin humanity early the following morning, when she woke to stare numbly at the ceiling as highlights flashed before her eyes. Like the preview to a movie she had already seen.

She left the house twice that day, the first time just to check the mail. But the buoyant spring sunshine seemed inappropriate somehow, almost irreverent. So she hurried there and back and then smiled flatly as she compared her rapid gait to a movie she had once seem with Dracula lurching back indoors with his cape over his face.
The light, the light
. The second time was about noon when she drove to Silver's Creek and cruised the residential streets for an hour, not even sure what she was looking for. Perhaps a For Lease sign, or maybe even her children.

But on her return she shut the door with something close to relief, blocking out the world with its sunlight and camaraderie and
verve
. Guess kept her company throughout the long day without complaint, padding from room to room in her wake. As if sensing Maddie was in no mood for long walks, or ball throwing, or even watching while he played bird-chasey in the grassy backyard. She knew, in theory, that she was only making things worse because the hours crawled past with stultifying slowness. As if they were strapped to the rack themselves. But she felt utterly depleted, hollowed. At one stage, curled up on the couch and staring towards a blank television, she imagined a spiritual being having visited her overnight to press cool, gentle lips against hers and slowly drink in, devour, all she had to offer. Her essence. So that she woke with nothing, able to achieve only the bare minimum in order to maintain life. Coffee, some food, a shower, the toilet. Anything above or beyond was simply impossible.

Nor was she able to unpack the ramifications of the previous day. They remained crammed in the corners of each room she entered, shadows licking her feet as she averted her gaze. She could think about
what
had happened, who had said what to whom and when, but whenever her mind strayed too close to what this meant for the future, it shied away. And if she tried to think about what it would mean to have Jake living in the area, or to calculate the time between now and next May, the months thickened into a wall past which she could not go.

In the late afternoon she poured her first drink, knowing that this too was a mistake. But not really caring. She answered a phone call each from Kim and from Hannah, but only because she wanted to shake them off. Couldn't risk one of them deciding that they needed to visit, check up on her. So she blithely assured them she was fine, that she was coping, and that she just needed a little time to come to terms with everything. Lick her wounds and start the healing process.

But the alcohol catapulted her straight into maudlin self-pity, without even a brief interlude. By seven o'clock she was pawing through photo albums, by eight o'clock she was watching home movies, and by nine o'clock she was going from one child's bedroom to the next, performing a ritual she hadn't followed for years. Where she laid just one kiss on each wall, and then blew one more from the doorway, in order to keep them safe and well. Soon after she was crawling into Ashley's bed, pulling one of her soft toys in with her. Sobbing into the plush fur and then angrily wiping swollen eyes. Feeling deeply nauseous with equal parts alcohol and despair. Making the pillow damp with tears and saliva and stringy mucus. And now feeling pathetic, as well as utterly miserable.

The nausea accompanied her through the night and into the morning, only easing after she staggered to the bathroom and retched into the toilet bowl. Her knees throbbing against the tiles as she embraced the cold porcelain. Afterwards she stared at herself in the mirror, lightly touching the broken blood vessels that spider-webbed their way across her cheeks. Like tiny graffiti tags, labelling her as the loser she was. Even after a shower she looked sick, and old. But this still wasn't enough to prevent her from repeating the previous day as if it was a pattern from which she could not deviate. The bored, miserable isolation, the restricted phone calls, the post-yardarm alcohol and the mawkish inebriation that soon followed. At the end she crawled into Sam's bed instead of Ashley's. Couldn't play favourites, after all.

On Friday morning she woke to the sound of Guess barking furiously and then a brisk knocking at the back door. She lay absolutely still for a while as if movement would encourage both dog and visitor, but the noise continued unabated. Echoing within her head with the force of a jackhammer. Now feeling both ill and annoyed, Maddie rolled out of Sam's bed and pulled on her dressing-gown before walking rather unsteadily towards the door. As she passed the lounge room she could see the silver hatchback parked by the kerb so she already knew who it was before she opened the door. Guess shot outside and leapt around Kim, sniffing at her feet excitedly, before racing off to the far corner of the backyard.

‘God, Maddie, you look bloody awful.'

‘Thanks. You know just what to say.'

‘No, I mean . . .' Kim trailed off, still staring. ‘You just don't look very well.'

Maddie gave her a weak smile. ‘I'm fine, really. I just haven't been sleeping, that's all.'

‘Okay.' Kim didn't look convinced. She was wearing a brown pant suit with a cropped blazer and was clearly on her way to work. ‘I just thought I'd drop in. See how you were.'

‘I'm fine,' said Maddie again.

‘Okay. Are you sure?'

Maddie nodded. She pulled her dressing-gown tighter. ‘I'm just taking a couple of days to think things through, that's all. Like I told you on the phone. Work out what's next.'

‘That's the spirit!' Kim brightened. ‘Because there's
got
to be things you can do. Have you spoken to your lawyer?'

‘Of course. Everything's in hand. All systems go.'

‘I'm
so
pleased to hear that. I've been a bit worried. I mean, I know if it was me . . .' Kim paused as if considering this. She blinked. ‘But you
have
to look forward. Really.'

‘Absolutely. Quite right.'

‘And maybe it won't be so bad, having their father nearby. Shared parenting and all that.'

‘Yes,' replied Maddie, sucking the anger out of the word so that it emerged quite lightly.

‘You'll have more time for yourself, for starters. Be able to go out more.'

‘Yes.'

‘And now I'd better get going.' Kim made a show of glancing at her watch. ‘Otherwise I'll probably get the sack!'

‘Well, thanks for dropping in. And I'll ring you in a few days. Promise.'

Maddie ushered Guess back inside and closed the door gently after Kim waved goodbye. She padded into the lounge room and stood to the side of the curtains, peering through. Within moments, Kim came into sight and strode across the lawn, her shoes disappearing into the long grass. Maddie watched until she slid into her car, started it up and drove off. Then she let out her breath in a whoosh and went into the kitchen to make coffee.

Even though it was not yet eight o'clock, glowing rays of sunshine were already filtering through the kitchen window to illuminate swathes of floating dust particles. Thousands upon thousands of them, pirouetting through the air. Guess's dish had been pushed into the corner, with congealed dog food along the rim and a solid clump dribbling down the outside onto the floor. Dishes cluttered the sink and a few wineglasses sat along the bench, each with a faint rose-pink sheen pyramiding up one side and a dribble of ruby in the base. Maddie slowly gazed around the room with a shame that felt like it blossomed from her heart. She stopped at the wineglasses, the sight of them reawakening her nausea. And thought suddenly of Jake, his face centimetres from hers with red wine sticky across his cheeks. The fury, the anger, the control. Dragging her up the passage, fingers wound tightly through her hair. Throwing her out.

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