Sticks and Stones (3 page)

Visited Mum this morning and she tells me you rang yesterday? Hope you used your mobile this time. Just because she's no longer at home doesn't make it any more secure. Good news though, she seemed a lot more settled – had even organised a tea party with some of the other residents! Re Stuart, I think I'm just going to go without him. Enough's enough. Re James, yes it's looking good. That sleep clinic did wonders and Charlotte is starting to look human again. Although
I'm
bushed because we went to the opera last night and didn't get back till the wee hours. Cosi Fan Tutte. Great show, thoroughly enjoyable. Hope your fete went well. Say hi to the kids. I'm logging off now as I'm off to bed early but I'll speak more tomorrow.

Love, Hannah

Maddie felt a gulp of homesickness that surprised her, even though it had happened so many times before. She relied heavily on this connection with her former life, yet also recognised that sometimes it acted as an anchor she could do without.

Maddie rose slowly and took the folded butcher paper out to the kitchen, where she dropped it into the rubbish bin. Then she washed her hands thoroughly and held them up so they could drip-dry into the sink. Staring through the kitchen window, at the rectangle of blackness, and imagining that there was someone out there staring right back. Their eyes consumed by darkness while she stood illuminated by the light.
Cold fish eyes, with a flatness that seemed to glisten, just slightly, and yet still seem dead. Eyes that she did not recognise, yet knew only too well.
A shiver ran up her spine and erupted against the nape of her neck. She blinked, and with sudden, rather bizarre humour she pictured the person outside deciding that, after witnessing the earlier scene with Ashley, punishment had already been well and truly delivered. For your crimes I sentence you to be consumed by the fires of hell – or life with a prepubescent female, followed by teenage-hood.

Just as quickly the humour congealed until it was a lump in her throat. Hardened by the sure knowledge that, if he really was out there, her sentence would be far more severe. Because he would never forgive her for what she had done. And for that, at least, she didn't much blame him.

THREE

M
ondays were always busy at the community centre where Maddie worked. A hub of information, socialisation and learning; every room filled with book clubs and craft groups and even formal courses, as well as a range of playgroups for children and social gatherings for their mothers. Maddie's annexe, however, was detached from the main building in purpose as well as design. This was where the disadvantaged of the community came to seek aid, whether financial, material, emotional, or just a little help with the myriad forms demanded by the social security bureaucracy. Single parents, disability pensioners, refugees, the jobless, and always a scattering of the proud but poor elderly.

Maddie had been working there for over five years now, having started as a volunteer while she did an in-house course in community development and then moving to paid staff soon after graduation. She would have dearly liked to build on these qualifications but applying to any type of higher education institute was out of the question. So for now she tucked away her ambitions, and her envy of others, and tried to focus on the fact that she loved what she did.

There were other advantages to the job also. Firstly, it had been arranged prior to her moving to nearby Badgerton, with the minimum of paperwork and questions and thus given her an anchor from the moment she arrived. She could barely recognise the person she had been back then, and knew that the community centre had played a large part in her evolution. Then there was the location, only a twenty minute drive away, and the short opening hours, which meant she was home each day by four-thirty at the latest. Giving Sam and Ashley only three-quarters of an hour alone, and significantly reducing the chances of one of them killing the other before she arrived.

It was even easier this year, with Ashley now at high school alongside her brother. They caught a bus from the end of the street at about the same time that Maddie left each morning, and were dropped off again in the afternoon. To walk the short distance to the house and then do a few chores designed to keep them occupied. Like feed Guess and set the table before, in theory, settling down to do homework until their mother got home. An excellent routine that was only interrupted with the advent of school holidays, which seemed to occur rather more frequently than they should.

Climate-wise, the day was a replica of the one preceding. Spring sunshine glowing within a canvas of cloudless sky. And the sublime buoyancy of the weather seemed to have an effect on the clients as well, with even the truly desperate displaying a patience more cheerful than resigned. Maddie filled the tubs at the front of the centre with fruit and vegetables and day-old bread, all of which had been donated by local stores. There were several people already waiting as the doors opened, two women with prams and high-spirited toddlers and a youth whose jittery hands spoke of habitual drug use. The waiting room filled quickly, remaining that way for the rest of the day.

Her first client was a pregnant woman who had left her husband that weekend and was now staying on her sister's couch. A shadow ran along her cheekbone like the sweep of blue rouge, hinting at the acrimonious nature of their parting. But the client didn't want to talk about that, steering the conversation away whenever it strayed too near. And Maddie knew, as determined as the woman was that her marriage was over, the odds were pretty high that they would have reconciled by the week's end. For the cycle to begin all over again.

She gave the woman a referral to a housing service, even though the waiting list made the gesture almost superfluous, and vouchers for food, and then slipped in a domestic violence pamphlet amongst other, more general ones. That was all she could do except wish her luck. The next three clients were each social security recipients, and all it took was a gas or electricity or phone bill that was a little excessive and their house of cards collapsed. Food parcels and vouchers were needed so that they could rebuild, until the next time; any embarrassment they may once have felt at asking for charity had long faded.

There was some excitement in the afternoon when a young couple, quite clearly drunk, became aggressive when they were asked to leave. With one belligerent sweep of his arm, the man sent the tub containing the remaining vegetables flying across the waiting room. Other clients scattered even as they muttered condemnations under their breath. The police were quickly called and a scene ensued on the footpath outside the centre as the young couple, yelling obscenities, were forced into the police car and taken away. Maddie started to pick up the spilled produce while one of the other workers, Lisbeth, took to the wall with a cloth.

‘Sometimes I wonder why we bother,' said Lisbeth grumpily. She wiped at a smear of watermelon, turning it into watery blood.

Maddie looked at her with surprise. ‘This doesn't happen often. Hardly ever, in fact.'

‘I suppose.'

‘Out-of-towners,' said an elderly man dismissively.

Lisbeth flicked a glance at him and then lowered her voice. ‘I just get a bit fed up sometimes, don't you?'

‘No, never.' Maddie shook her head. ‘Never.'

‘Hey, I'll help.' A woman with a baby on her hip bent down and awkwardly started picking up vegetables without waiting for an answer. She was immediately joined by a few other clients who criticised the evicted pair in loud voices, as if desperately needing to emphasise the divide between them. Maddie glanced at Lisbeth, but the other woman seemed almost disengaged. She made a mental note to make time for Lisbeth at some stage this week, perhaps with coffee. See if there was a problem and whether it could be nipped in the bud.

The incident caused a delay that pushed the remaining appointments further behind and as a result the centre closed late. Maddie slid into her hatchback and sighed tiredly before heading out of town towards Badgerton. With peak hour now in play, it was a good half-hour before she finally turned into her driveway and drew to a stop by the side of the house. Taking a moment to enjoy the rush of warmth that coming home always gave her. Guess came running over to the car, panting with excitement.

‘What're you doing outside, boy?' Maddie frowned as she gave him a quick pat. She locked the car and glanced towards the lit kitchen window, half expecting the shadow of a child as they suddenly realised she was home and rushed to set the table. She paused again by the back porch, staring into the backyard and making a mental note to ring the mower repairman to find out whether the mower had been fixed. Before the grass got too much longer. Then she unlocked the back door and let the dog push his way past, breaking into a scamper in search of Sam. She could hear his claws scrabbling against the floorboards down the passage as she put her handbag down on the kitchen table, sighing crossly as she realised that it wasn't set.

‘Sam? Ashley?' Maddie called them half-heartedly as she took a casserole from the fridge and slid it into the oven. She prepared most of the week's meals on the weekends, making it easier during the working week. Setting the table was next, even though she knew she should probably go in search of either child and make them do it. But despite her irritation the temporary silence was just too precious, so she slowly laid out placemats and crockery and cutlery, enjoying a few moments of solitude. Rejuvenation. Guess came padding back into the kitchen and looked at her with his head on one side, as if wanting to ask a question.

‘Have you been fed?' Maddie looked at his empty bowl as she spoke and her frown returned. It was absolutely ridiculous that she should put in a full day of work and then come home to find that even the most basic chores hadn't been accomplished. She felt a surge of irritation and self-pity, which she nurtured as she spooned the contents of a can of dog food into the bowl.
Something
had to change here, and soon. Maddie threw the empty can in the rubbish bin before washing her hands and finally going in search of her errant offspring.

‘Ashley?' Maddie walked into the lounge room, not terribly surprised to find it empty. She continued through towards the bedrooms. Later, much later, she was able to trace back to that moment and recognise that right then, as she walked up the passage, absently noting that the walls needed washing and thinking, for some odd reason, of Lisbeth at work, she was approaching the very last seconds when all was right within her world. Whether or not the table was set or the dog fed were nothing.
Nothing.
She knocked on Sam's door first and then Ashley's, pushing them open to reveal vacant rooms. Even then she was initially more confused than anything else, but as she stood there, frowning at lumpily made beds and bare desks, the first tentacles of fear slithered into being.

‘Sam? Ashley?' Maddie went back through the house, a little faster this time, with Guess padding alongside. She pushed open the back door and walked out onto the little porch, surveying the yard from fence to fence. ‘
Sam! Ashley!
'

But the words spun into silence, not even leaving an echo behind to mark their path. The sun was now dipping in the cloudless sky, sending a wash of orange across the horizon and hinting at a spectacular sunset to come. Maddie stared as she tried to think. There had been no plans for after-school visits, and besides, Sam never went around to anybody's house after school. Never. So they should be here, or if something had come up, there should be
evidence
that they had been here. Schoolbags.

Maddie hurried back into the house and came to a halt before the alcove in the kitchen that usually housed the two bags and often a scattering of school shoes as well. Empty. From where she was standing, Maddie could see into the lounge room and for the first time she noted that the computer wasn't turned on. And that was always the first thing Sam did after he walked in the door. She picked up the phone and rang his mobile, letting it ring until it cut off. The continuous tone hummed in her ear even after she finally hung up. She pressed another series of buttons.

‘Hello?'

‘Hi Diane, this is Maddie. Listen, I was just wondering if you'd seen my kids?'

‘Mislaid them, have you?' Diane sounded amused.

‘Something like that.'

‘No, can't say I have. Want me to ask Tessa?'

‘Yes please.' Maddie stared blankly towards the computer as she waited,
knowing
there would be a simple explanation. Like some school function she'd stupidly forgotten, or . . . she couldn't think of anything else.
The obstacles of your past can become the gateways that lead to new beginnings.
Beside her, Guess yawned hugely as if bored by the proceedings.

‘Are you there?'

‘Yes, I'm here. Has she seen them?'

‘Well, she said they were both definitely on the bus coming home. Got off at the usual stop. So what's up? Are they just not there?'

Maddie's mind was working quickly. ‘No . . . but I was late home so I'm thinking they might have gone to get takeaway. I'm sure it'll be fine.'

‘Okay then. And if you need any help, just call. Okay?'

‘Sure. Thanks.'

Maddie put the phone down slowly. She didn't really think they'd gone to get takeaway but supposed it was a vague possibility. Even if it had never happened before. Maddie sat down at the table, rubbing her arm fitfully and then sliding her hands underneath her thighs. Trapping them into immobility. She stared at the back door, willing it to bang open and Sam and Ashley to spill through. They would be terribly apologetic, vying to be heard before she could voice her anger. Any minute now.

The pungent, meaty smell of the casserole was now starting to permeate the kitchen, so Maddie got up to turn the oven down. Buy some time. She washed her hands, using detergent to bring up a soapy lather and then holding them out to drip over the sink. She stared out of the window at the driveway, now growing shadowy, and suddenly remembered that the kitchen light had been on when she'd arrived home. So that meant they
had
been here. The knowledge brought with it a wash of almost nauseating relief. But then where were their bags? And, more importantly, where were
they
?