Wrath. Part 12

"Didn't see him," I correct her.

"Didn't see him, then. Whatever. You were acting so weird I can understand that nothing much was registering with you."

"But you've seen him," I repeat.

"Yes, of course. I stayed with him and his wife; he remarried, by the way, after..." Her voice trails off but not for long. "Aunty Alma sold her house and moved into Mum and Ray's house." Her voice shakes a little, and she stops. After regaining control, she goes on. "She looked after me. I don't know what I would have done without her. I finished school last year, and I've been working here and there in Geraldton, doing nothing much, and now she wants to go back east and take me with her. She has family there, and I want to go too. Start over." She looks squarely at me for a long moment. "I don't ever want to come back here. The house will be sold, and that will be an end to it."

"But what about Dad?"

"He has his own life now and a new family. I didn't feel at home there. Don't get me wrong-he was good to me, and his wife couldn't have been kinder, but I wanted to be with my friends and I missed Aunty Alma. She's been like a mother to me... almost." Her mouth thins into that hard, straight line. "Dad keeps in touch. He does his best, but he and I were never as close as you two. It was me and Mum, remember?" She tries to maintain the tough expression, but her eyes fill with tears, and she brushes them away angrily with the back of her hand, just like she used to when she was a little kid.

She takes a deep, shuddering breath, and whispers, "Why did you do it, Luca? What had Ray done to you that was so bad? I get that Mum got in the way-not that it helps much-but what set you off? Or was it just the drugs?"

I look at her, my face twisting into an expression of disbelief. "What had he done to me? Are you serious, or have you blocked it out of your mind?" My raised voice brings one of the guards over.

"Tone it down, or your friend will have to leave."

I nod, and the guard saunters away.

Katy is staring at me, her mouth turning down at the corners in disgust. "What, because he didn't make a big fuss of you like Dad did? Because you weren't Luca, the carrier of the family name, the perfect child who hung on his father's every word?" Her voice was low and venomous. "Was that worth killing him for? And my mother along with him?"

It is my turn to stare at her. She gulps and makes an obviously superhuman attempt at controlling herself. "Look, Luca, this isn't why I came here. I just came to say..."

"Why the h.e.l.l do you think I did it?" I hiss.

She looks down, and I can see her jaws working as though she's gritting her teeth. "I know you didn't know what you were doing. You were high on speed." Her voice drones as though she's said those words many times, either to herself or to other people.

"Katy, what do you remember of that night?"

She glances at me and then turns away.

"The house was dark. It was late. Ray was talking to me, and you switched on the light and then went completely berserk." She stops, breathing hard. "That's all I want to remember."

I sat there, listening to the tick of the clock on the wall, the murmurs, the laughter, the urgent talk around me. I have to make her see it. Even if I can't tell anyone else about it, there has to be honesty between us. No lies.

"So Ray was sitting on your bed, half-dressed in the dark, with his arm around you, and you were crying.

She stares at me. "My G.o.d, Luca. You don't... you didn't think..." She stops, and her eyes fill with tears. The tears spill down her cheeks, but she still keeps looking straight at me, her gaze never wavering. Her hands unfold, and she takes my hands on the top of the table, gripping them hard.

"Luca, you've got to listen to me." Katy breathes hard and then begins speaking, her voice low and clear. "The day before, we'd gone to Dongara for my game on Sunday. Erin came too. She was my best friend."

I nod impatiently. "I know all that."

"There was someone on the boys' team I really liked-Kim. I'd met him down at the beach a few times, and we'd kissed and all that. We were an item."

"You never told me."

"We were way past the times when we shared everything, Luca. You were so wrapped up in yourself and mourning Dad and hating Mum and Ray."

"I never hated Mum," I say quietly.

She pauses. "It seemed like you hated everyone. Even me."

"Just him. Never you or Mum."

"Just let me tell you! Sat.u.r.day night had been great. Erin and I had gone with all the kids, both teams, down to the beach. We'd lit a bonfire, cooked sausages, sung songs and danced, and then everyone had kind of quietened down and just sat around the fire. I was lying there, looking into the coals, everyone's voices droning away, and I must have gone to sleep. You know what I'm like."

It was true. She was full of energy, but when her head hit the pillow, she'd be asleep in under a minute. Dad used to call her Quick Snore McGraw when she was little.

"I woke up later, and it was cold. Only a few kids were left on the beach, so I stood up and looked around for Erin and Kim. I couldn't see them, so I figured they'd gone back to the hotel. I was pretty p.i.s.sed off, as a matter of fact. Mum was going to growl if it was really late, but then she knew exactly where I was, so I figured it couldn't be that late after all.

"I was walking back on the path through the sand hills when I heard Kim's voice. I opened my mouth to call him, but then I heard Erin's voice giggling, so I stopped and stepped off the path towards their voices. The moon was fairly bright, and as I climbed over the hill, I saw Kim and Erin lying under a blanket. Kim was on top of Erin, and Erin's arms were wrapped around him. Neither of them saw me standing there, my shadow almost touching them, and I don't know how long I stood there till I turned and left. Erin came in much later, and I pretended I was asleep. She tiptoed around, and within five minutes, she was asleep.

"The next day, both of them acted just the same, except I saw the looks and smiles they gave each other. I said nothing, but when we dropped Erin off, I walked her to her door and said, Don't come near me at school. Don't come near me anywhere'. She looked shocked, and then she ran inside. I said I was tired when we got home and stayed in my room." She gives a twisted little smile. "I was sadder about Erin than Kim; another boyfriend I can always get, but Erin and I had been friends since Day One at high school.

"Ray heard me crying. He didn't want to wake Mum, I guess, so he knocked on my door quietly and came in without turning the light on. I told him everything, and he was so kind, Luca, so kind." Her voice trembles. "Just like he always was. He told me how something similar had happened to him once. He made me feel better. He was about to go back to bed when you switched on the light."

My mind is running in circles. I pull my hands from hers and bury my face in them. I'm shaking-not just my hands but somewhere deep inside, just like I was when I was in court.

Katy's hands are on my shoulders. "Luca, Luca, you made a mistake, a horrible mistake. Ray was helping me; he wasn't abusing me."

My head jerks up. "Why didn't you say something in court?"

"I thought you'd just gone crazy on drugs. I didn't want to say how much you'd always hated him, so I just kept quiet. Like you did. I thought I would make it worse for you if I said anything, and I was so angry at you, Luca. I hated you for what you'd done." She was crying openly now, her face red. "My poor brother, you got it all so wrong."

The guard comes over again to see what's going on.

"Thank you. I'm all right," Katy says, smiling shakily up at him.

"Time's just about up," The guard says quietly, and Katy blows her nose, carefully dabbing under her eyes and wiping away watery, mascara rivulets.

"I see Dad every now and then, but I've got my own life now. So has he. I came down to say goodbye to him before we leave next week, and he asked me to see you. He talks about you all the time, Luca." She shrugs. "Nothing's changed."

The bell tinkles for everyone to say their goodbyes.

"I'm glad I came to see you. Maybe in a while, when you're out of here, we'll see each other again. I don't know. I just want to leave everything behind and start afresh-new job, new home, new people."

I nod. How can I blame her?

"Good luck, Luca." Katy smiles, and the tears slip down her cheeks. "We won't be able to see each other right now, but I'll be just around the corner, just like when we were little." And then she's gone.

I feel a touch on my shoulder and jerk my head up. Everyone has left, and I'm sitting alone at the table.

"Pretty girl," the guard says. "Your girlfriend?"

I shake my head but can't speak.

"Time to go now. I know it's tough when they go and you can't go too, but it won't be forever."

I stumble back to my cell and sit on the edge of my bed, shaking, and then I roll myself into a ball, and despite everything, I sleep.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE.

At lunch, I know Archie's talking to me, and I nod when he stops but don't hear what he's saying. After a while, the conversation slides around me, and I feel like I'm in a bubble, cut off, unable to think, eat or speak.

Later, I sit at my desk and open a book, but nothing's going in. I sit there staring blindly till lights out, and then I lie in the darkness, forcing my mind to stay in one place. I go over everything from the time I saw Katy till she left, concentrating on every detail so it's burned into my brain: her hair, her clothes, her hands, her voice...what she'd said. Then I stop thinking and start shaking again, lying there and staring into the darkness till morning comes at last, and it's not till the room is misty and grey that I finally sleep.

I sleep in the next morning. I always wake well before the siren, but this morning, I wake groggily, partway through some dream, that sound cutting through everything. I lie there with my eyes still closed, and I know something is wrong. What is it? Then it floods back, and I open my eyes and count the bricks in the end wall, forcing my mind not to think.

It's breakfast, and Archie peers at me, his hair flopping forwards towards those soft eyes. "Feeling better today, mate?"

I nod but can't look him in the eye. My mood is contagious, and the boys sitting at the table all turn quiet, eyes lowered. I sit there, trying to look preoccupied and thoughtful rather than just totally on another planet. I just can't shake this zombie feeling. I know the only way I can keep things together is to push every thought down deep, away from where I have to consciously look at it and realise what I've done, realise what I've... I concentrate on my food, chew every bit carefully, carry my plates over, go back to my cell and get ready for cla.s.s.

I walk across the quad by myself now, without Owen. There are always a couple of guards on duty anyway in case someone has a go at climbing up the fence or onto the roof. I knock on the door, still in zombie mode. I can do this. I've done it before, and I can do it again.

The door opens, and it's Mr P. He's early today. His mouth is moving, but I can't really hear him. Then my knees buckle, and I'm on the ground, rolled up in a ball, sobbing! G.o.d, is that noise coming from me? He's lifting me up and half-carrying me inside, but I can't stop; I can't stop!

I'm in Norbert's room, curled up on his bed and trying to make myself small. My thoughts start to slow. They'll think I'm a lunatic. What am I saying? I am one. Outside, in the main room, I become aware of Mr P murmuring something to each boy. The door closes, and a chair sc.r.a.pes close to the bed. I hear it creak as Mr P settles into it. A large hand closes on my shoulder, stroking it as if it were a cat, but it feels good-soothing-my breathing slows, and my body stops its horrible jumping and tingling. The room is silent. What now?

"What's going on, Luca?"

How can I get out of this? What can I say? I turn and sit up, leaning back on the wall. "Don't you have to teach the boys, sir?" I say, stalling for time.

"They're fine; don't worry about them. They have plenty to go on with. Now, what's happened?"

I hang my head. The silence is pressing down on me. The room seems small, and I finally look up to tell him some c.r.a.p about feeling sick or something, but when I see those deep-set blue eyes boring into me, I know it's going to be impossible to lie to him. It just starts pouring out of my mouth, all of it. Pouring' is the only word to describe it. It's a flood, like some dam inside me has broken and everything is coming out.

Strangely, it seems to make sense, even though I have no real idea what I'm going to say before it's out of my mouth. I tell him about Dad, Reid-how I loathed him-Mum and Katy... everything comes out. He sits there listening, totally concentrating on me and not interrupting. I pause, breathing hard, after I tell him about that night in Katy's room. I can't meet his eyes, and he speaks for the first time.

"Go on."

Finally, I slow down and haltingly tell him about Katy's visit and what she told me. I start shaking again. "It was all a mistake. I thought that as wrong as it was that I had killed him, at least I had protected Katy from him forever-but it turns out she didn't need any protection. She loved him, and he probably loved her. He'd never shown her anything but kindness, and for that he died. I killed him. I can't justify it even in the slightest way. The only thing that's kept me going all this time is that I'd done it for Katy, but now I know the truth. I did it for myself. All that hatred I had built up for so long, and then I saw an excuse to attack him. I hadn't meant to kill him-just to hurt him, just to make him go away.

"As if that would happen," I add bitterly. "Why should he go away? He had my mother, my sister, their house and their life together. I was the problem, not him. Because of my anger, he died; Mum died; Katy lost him, her mother, everything; Mrs Brockman lost her brother. All gone because of me. That's the truth of it. There's no n.o.ble heroic deed done by a protective brother. There's just an angry, hate-filled, drugged-up piece of s.h.i.+t that doesn't deserve to be alive. No one should cause that much damage and be able to live."

I stop at last, feeling somehow cleaner than I'd felt for a long while. The truth is out in the open. All that dark poison inside me is gone, spewed up in that outpouring. I know what I am.

The silence is deeper this time after my voice had filled the room for so long. Mr P's head is down. Clearly, he can't look at me because his disgust must be so great. He s.h.i.+fts in his chair, gropes in his pocket and pulls out a neatly folded handkerchief. He opens it slowly, wipes his eyes and then blows his nose.

There is a quiet knock from outside, and Norbert comes in, carrying two mugs of Milo. He puts them both down on the little bedside table and then turns to go. Mr P stands up.

"Thank you, Norbert," he says and turns to me. "I'll just check how everyone is going, and then I'll be back." He goes, and I sit there, the sweet smell of the drink filling the little room. I relish the feeling of peace that comes over me. The worst is out. I'm like a piece of driftwood that's lying washed up on some beach, nothing hidden, nothing left-just the shape of something that once was picked bare.

Mr P comes back in, head down, still not looking me in the eye. Suddenly, he grabs my hands together in his big paws.

"This is a terrible thing you've been carrying, Luca, but it was a mistake-an awful, tragic mistake, but still a mistake." I wait for him to go on, but he says nothing more.

"This isn't just a mistake, sir. A mistake is what you do in Maths, and then you go back, cross it out, correct it and on you go. No real harm done." My voice strengthens. I'm sure of myself now, surer than I've ever been. "There's no crossing out this one. Two people are dead, and they won't be coming back. It was bad enough knowing that I'd killed someone when I had that tiny bit of excuse to hang on to-that I thought he was hurting Katy. It was still terrible, but now there is nothing-just the cold, hard fact that I've taken lives, one of them my own mother's life, and for nothing. Nothing at all."

Even though I know what I am saying is disturbing, probably as bad as you can get, I am calm. My heart isn't pounding, and I'm not shaking; I'm ice.

"That's true. Nothing can change the result of what happened, but there were things beyond your control that led to it."

"That I was off my face on drugs. n.o.body's fault but mine. I took them, no one else."

"They're a part of it, but really, it may have happened even if you hadn't taken anything."

I think about this for a moment. "I don't know. I was totally out of control, and whether that was down to drugs or not, I don't know. It's a blur. I didn't think I was killing him-just hurting him so he knew what it was like."

"So you didn't think a softball bat would kill him?"

"No," I say wonderingly, "but then only a lunatic would hit someone as hard as they could with a bat and not know it was causing serious damage."

"So it stands to reason that drugs were playing a part in how you responded that night. On the one hand, you say you had no intention of killing him, and yet you picked up and used a bat, which-as you said-only a lunatic would imagine wouldn't do terrible damage."

"Fair enough. But they're both dead. It was partly due to the effect of the drugs, but you still can't change that fact."

"Can anything change that fact?"

"Of course not. It happened, and nothing can change it now."

He smiles at me for the first time. "And will all your thinking about it, all your regret, all your guilt, change that fact?"

I sit silent though I can hear the boys murmuring and kookaburras laughing in the tree in the courtyard. "No," I say at last, "nothing will ever change that fact."

"Then, Luca, you have two choices. You can either remain locked up inside yourself, thinking only of that event, going over and over it even though you know that all the thinking in the world won't make any difference, or..." He stops, locking me to him with those dark blue eyes of his, "...or you can move forward. That doesn't mean dismissing what happened, but it happened; it's in the past. Concentrate now-not on what you did but on what you can become."

The siren rings, jerking me back to the moment. The whole morning has gone! "Sorry, sir," I gasp.

He smiles. "You're worth it, Luca. Now, take it easy today. Tomorrow, I'll help you to grab the steering wheel of that mind of yours." He opens the door, and the boys look up from their packing up.

"Well done, boys. Any questions?"

"Nothing that can't wait till tomorrow," Norbert answers, and the others nod.

"See you, kid. Keep your p.e.c.k.e.r up!" they chorus as I try to sneak out.

I smile at them, embarra.s.sed, thinking yet again how different they are from the other boys in this place. They're keen to get on with life and make a new start. Quite a few of the boys in the main building are pretty much dead-heads. You can just tell by looking in their eyes. Life's kicked them in the teeth too many times, and they've given up and turned nasty or vacant. I guess I just tried to become numb.