Sticks and Stones (4 page)

The phone broke the silence so abruptly that she jumped. Then snatched it up. ‘Hello?'

‘God, you sound stressed!'

‘Kim.'

‘Hey, is everything okay?'

Maddie swallowed painfully. ‘Yes . . . that is, no. Yes.'

‘Make up your mind. What's up?'

‘No, it's nothing. A bad day, that's all. What can I do for you?'

‘I was just ringing to see if we can swap this Friday for Saturday instead.' Kim hesitated. ‘Are you sure you're okay?'

‘Absolutely.' Maddie nodded to help the word along. ‘And that's fine, Saturday it is. Now sorry, but I'd better go, I'm expecting a call.'

‘Okay then,' replied Kim slowly. ‘Maybe I'll give you a ring later?'

‘Tomorrow. Tomorrow'll be better. Less stressed. Okay? Speak to you then.'

Maddie pressed
End
brusquely, pushing aside feelings of guilt at her rudeness. There simply wasn't room at the moment. A small part of her marvelled at her unwillingness to share her anxiety, but recognised that it was automatic. Almost protective in itself. She laid the phone on the table before her, its little green light blinking like a beacon. And then she just sat and waited.

The next hour passed slowly, each minute stretching and suspending before finally passing the baton to the next. The grey shadows licking at the kitchen window gradually darkened and soon she avoided even looking in that direction. Guess curled under the table, glancing up hopefully every time she made a movement. She tried ringing Sam's mobile again, and again, but each time it rang out. And each time her stomach tightened even further, until it felt the size of a walnut. A shrivelled kernel of fear. Because minute by minute it was becoming more obvious that something was seriously awry and that soon she would have to stop procrastinating. Stop hoping that they were about to walk through the door. And then she would have to make some phone calls. Police. Hospitals.
And there were those eyes, again, but this time they were laughing. As if at a joke that she did not quite get. Not yet anyway.

She rose slowly, her throat constricting, and decided first to do another check of the bedrooms. Not for the children, but for any clues as to what had happened. Where they might have gone. Standing in the middle of Sam's bedroom with Guess by her side, she counted until ten with the sudden, almost desperate conviction that, when she had finished, she would hear the back door. So that when the sound
did
come, a faint creaking followed by the latch clicking softly back into place, for a moment she stood stunned, unable to move. Before relief flooded through her body, invigorating even as it reprieved, and she closed her eyes while she took a deep breath that felt like the first for hours. Then she made herself walk slowly, purposefully back through the house as she allowed her fury to seep through. Only to be faced with an empty kitchen. Again.

‘Sam! Ashley!' Maddie opened the back door into the semicircle of filtered light emitted by the porch light. Both fury and relief soured as quickly as they had arisen, curdling into a bile that made her feel ill. Had she
imagined
the door opening and then closing? She rubbed her arm and blinked back sudden tears, vaguely registering the fact that Guess was barking from somewhere behind her. But the noise soon petered off and she was left with the silence. She stepped backwards and let the door slam shut, the sound mocking her.

‘So, tell me, how does it feel?'

The voice came from the lounge room and froze her in place. For a moment nothing made sense and then suddenly everything did. A fistful of nausea exploded up her throat and clenched it closed. All the work, the knowledge, the
growth
of the past six years was gone in an instant and she was back to exactly where she'd been. She opened her mouth and then closed it again, like a fish drowning in oxygen.

‘Bloody awful, isn't it?'

Maddie took a gulp of air and immediately felt faint.
She was crouched beneath a bush, her heart beating so hard and so fast that it felt her ribs might break. With the sound reverberating inside her head like a drumbeat, pulsating behind her eyes and reducing her thoughts to a series of grabs. Front yard, branches, silence, pain, fear. Him.

‘Wouldn't wish it on your worst enemy, would you.'

This last was uttered as a statement of fact, not a question. She wrapped her arms around herself, clasping them tight, and then turned, taking a step forward and another to the side so that finally she could see most of the semidark lounge room. And there he was, sitting on the couch amongst the shadows, legs crossed casually, with one arm propped on the armrest and his chin in his hand. With the other he was lightly stroking Guess, who lay beside him. Jake. Here. Looking almost exactly the same as he had when she had last seen him, six years ago. Or yesterday.

‘Well, well. There you are, my precious wife. My little Waltzing Matilda.'

Maddie found her voice. ‘Where are they?'

‘Awful, hey? Not knowing where your kids are.' He stared at her and his voice suddenly roughened as he pushed Guess aside. ‘How does it feel? Go on, tell me. How the
fuck
does it feel?'

‘Where are they?'

‘Who? Do you mean this
Sam
and
Ashley
you were calling for before? Because then I don't know. No fucking idea.'

‘You know who I mean.'

‘Say their names then.'

Maddie hesitated. She rubbed her arms, hard, trying to bring back life. ‘Max and Courtney.'

‘Ah, well they're safe, that's all you need to know. And it's more than you deserve.' He shook his head slowly, as if in disbelief. ‘You fucking bitch.'

Maddie swallowed. ‘Please.'

‘Beg all you like.' He leant forward suddenly, still staring. ‘But answer one question – why?'

‘Why?'

‘Yes, why? What the
fuck
did I do to deserve that?'

Maddie shook her head, unable to articulate anything. And knowing that he wouldn't understand even if she could.

‘Six years.' His eyes bored into hers. ‘Six. Fucking. Years.'

‘I'm sorry.'

‘You're
sorry
? You're fucking
sorry
?'

‘Yes, I am. I wish I'd had a choice. I wish –'

Jake suddenly exploded off the couch, coming forward so quickly that Maddie didn't have time to move. His hand was already extended when he reached her and he grabbed her chin and wrenched it up so that she was looking straight into his face. From this angle he did look older, more jowly, and his mouth looked soft and somehow spoilt. Maddie tried to pull away but was held tight, and it hurt.

‘Let me
go
.'

To her surprise he did exactly that, first digging his fingers into the bone of her chin and then thrusting her away so that she stumbled back against the table. Guess came running into the room and wagged his tail once, as if he thought they were playing, and then stopped.

Maddie straightened, holding her chin. ‘I could have you charged for that.'

‘You have
me
charged?' He looked at her with real astonishment. ‘You seem to forget that
you're
the one who's the criminal here.
You
took my kids,
my
kids, and then kept them away from me for six years! Six fucking years! Do you have any,
any
idea what that was like?'

She dropped her hand and then shook her head, unable to answer.

‘Do you realise I could have had a recovery order out on you all these years? To bring my children home? And by now it would have been a fucking
warrant
, so that the federal police would've been after you?'

Maddie flicked her gaze across his face, trying to read his expression. See if he was bluffing. ‘Then why didn't you?'

‘Stupidity,' he replied slowly, staring at her. ‘Pure, unadulterated stupidity.'

She stared at him, then took a deep breath to contain the mix of fear and anger that boiled within. ‘I'm going to ask you one more time. Where are they?'

‘They're home. Where they belong.'

‘Then I'm going to drive down there and get them.'

‘You'll be wasting your time.'

Maddie shrugged, fighting to appear calm. ‘You won't get away with it.'

‘
I
won't get away with it?' Jake took a step towards her. ‘My god, you really
don't
get it, do you? What you did to me?'

Maddie shook her head, but only because he was wrong. Not because she didn't get it.

‘No of course you don't,' his voice thickened. ‘You selfish bitch. The waiting, looking. Searching. Every birthday, every Christmas. Buying presents that never got opened. Knowing they were out there somewhere. Growing up while I was
robbed
.'

Maddie stared at his clenched fists, a wave of sympathy and guilt washing alongside the fear.

‘And
you
did that. To me.'

The hands unclenched, fingers waving at the floor, and then fisted again. Whitened knuckles pushing against the skin.
Pushing her face into the carpet, with tiny shards of glistening glass spread before her like an offering.
Then one fist lifted slowly with Maddie's eyes following until it was right before her. And beyond she could see Jake's face, a mask of pain and fury with glittering eyes. Could they be tears?

She found her voice and was surprised to hear it emerge reasonably steady. ‘If you hit me, you'll regret it. I mean it.'

The fist immediately shot back and then, just as suddenly, dropped. Jake shook his head. ‘No. I'm
not
letting you do that to me again, bitch. No way.'

‘Me?'

‘God, you play the innocent so well, don't you?' His voice slipped into a conversational tone that almost sounded friendly. ‘The poor little fragile Mattie act. I remember it well. You fucking
hypocrite
. Do you know, for years I've thought about all the different ways I'd kill you when I found you? It was the only thing that kept me going. But now . . .' He paused and then smiled flatly. ‘Well, I've got too much to lose.'

‘No.'

He stared at her for a few long moments. ‘Tell you what I'll do for you. Which is a fucking sight more than you ever did for me. Ring me in a few days.'

‘That's it?'

‘That's it.' Jake dropped his eyes suddenly and then slowly tracked them back up her body to her face. He spoke thickly. ‘Yeah, that's it all right. And you should be thankful.'

While her desperation to regain the children battled with her
need
to have him gone, Maddie tried desperately to think of something to say, something that would change the situation, change his mind. Grasp some control. But even as she searched she knew it was futile because there
was
nothing. And there never had been. So she was left with no other choice but to hold his gaze, as if that alone was a minor victory, letting the silence condense between them. Until finally Jake turned, as abruptly as a soldier on parade, and left, the door banging shut behind him. Like the full stop in a sentence that had stretched through the years.

FOUR

I
t took quite some time for Maddie to recover any sort of equilibrium. And there seemed no rush to do so either, not now. She felt numb at first, with the entire encounter too enormous to absorb both in immediacy and implications. So instead of taking any action, she simply folded into a kitchen chair and then sat, much as she had earlier, staring at the wood grain of the table. As if sensing her disquiet, Guess wouldn't relax either. Padding around and then lying down, only to rise again almost immediately. After a while she began to cry, hot frustrated tears that felt as though they would never end and, when they finally did, left her feeling even worse.

Eventually Maddie got up and washed her hands at the kitchen sink, scrubbing the heels with the scourer. She only stopped when the throbbing settled into a heartbeat, with thin, pallid welts rising amongst the red. She made herself eat some of the overcooked casserole, hoping to settle her nausea, but regretted it almost immediately, with each mouthful bruising her throat and stomach. She covered the remainder, thinking that it would do for tomorrow. But then, as she was sliding it into the fridge, she realised with a jolt that it would be just her again the next day. And the day after that. And she wouldn't want to eat this ever.

The tears started to spill over once more, so she slammed the fridge shut and went through to the lounge room. Enough light spilt through from the kitchen to illuminate a triangular swathe, with the couch at the base. She erased the image of Jake as quickly as it formed and replaced it with one from last night. Watching television with Sam nearby at the computer and Ashley folded casually in the armchair. And she suddenly remembered how tired she'd felt, so annoyed by their constant bickering, and she wanted to laugh. LOL, as Ashley would say. Laugh Out Loud. But Maddie also knew that if she started, she would find it very difficult to stop. LOLF, meaning forever.
And suddenly there were their faces, much younger, framed by the family room window as she ran past in the dark. She could hear the rasping of her own breath, forcing its way past the pain that ringed her throat, and feel the thickness of her face, with swollen eyes and throbbing cheeks and mucus mixed within the tears. And she could see their shocked expressions, and their splayed hands pressed against the glass, fingerprints a flattened ivory. The colour of corpses.

Maddie realised she was scratching at her arms, clawing her fingers so that her short nails could get better traction, and it took some effort to stop. Then she flicked the light switch on and fetched the phone from the kitchen table, holding it in the palm of her hand. The weight of it was oddly comforting but she simply wasn't yet ready to verbalise what had happened. Or to hear her sister's sympathy leach through her words of advice that would force her to face facts, make decisions, go forward. Calling the police was, of course, out of the question. Almost laughable. She went back into the lounge room and turned the television on, suddenly desperate for other voices, but turned it off again almost immediately as the sound surged. It seemed wrong, and loud, and jarring.