Saturday, 21 April 2035
Things That Have Bloody Annoyed Me Today:
Rhiannon Lewis.
Neither River nor I slept a wink after the show.
I don’t think much of the country did either.
We held each other and cried all night – me in shock, River in shock and awe.
He loved her even more now he’d seen her partially take a child killer’s head off on live television, but when he saw the impact it had on me, he felt terrible.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he kept saying as he stroked my hair. ‘You shouldn’t have seen that. That was so bad.’
‘That was my mother,’ I kept saying. ‘She really did those things to those people. She did that to her.’
We stayed up and talked the bones out of what we’d seen, into the small hours of the morning and beyond.
How the hell had the inmates covered up the fact a hole was being cut through the floors.
How hadn’t the screws noticed anything amiss the whole time.
How scared Roxanne looked when she’d seen Rhiannon kicking out the ceiling hole above her.
The sounds of her screams as the blade went into her neck. We talked the fear out of it.
Finally tired, I invited him to sleep above the covers on my mattress.
‘That’s not me, Ivy. That’s not what I’m about.’
‘I know you wouldn’t hurt me. You protect me, right?’
‘I’m still not sleeping in your bed.’
And he didn’t. He slept on the floor, right next to my mattress, and held my hand. He didn’t let go until I did.
The news the next morning was full of it – half the commentators talking about how horrific it was that the channel kept the cameras rolling, and the other half talking about how historic it was that a killing had been caught for the first time on terrestrial TV.
Online, it was much the same; some calling Rhiannon a ‘legend’ or ‘an icon’ or ‘the GOAT’.
Others relaying how they’d vomited while watching, or how they were never watching that channel ever again in protest. Some Bad Seeds were now vehement Rhiannon haters – like she’d crossed some line – while others seemed to know exactly what life would be like in prison for her now – on basic, twenty-three-hour bang ups, no shower gel just soap. And absolutely no visitors.
It got me wondering why she’d done it at all – she hadn’t needed to.
She hadn’t killed anyone for five years, been good as gold that whole time.
So why now? Why one week after seeing me?
Is that what did it? Was it because of how I spoke to her?
Did I reignite her fire to kill? Or did she do it to show me exactly who she was?
To show off cos I said I wasn’t impressed by serial killers?
I remembered what she’d said to me in the prison: …
that Lewis temper you’re trying so hard to hold down right now is my temper.
Those little nostrils a-flaring, those are my nostrils.
And that heart of yours beating so fast and furious in that ribcage, it’s pumping blood that runs in my veins. Maybe it was to show me what I am too.
No. I am not like that, I thought. I may be temperamental, weak minded, vicious sometimes, but no way am I like that. And I think she knew. It was a teachable lesson.
‘My God,’ I said as I realised.
If you had seen for yourself what I am – what I do – there would no longer be any doubt why I left you …
‘Ivy? The van’s here!’ shouted Jordy up the stairs.
Downstairs, a removal van was parked up on the driveway with the back doors open.
Three men were going back and forth with furniture.
They’d be coming up for my mattress and dressing table next.
Our last night here was tonight before our flight to Oz tomorrow.
The Lombards had been gracious enough to hold off moving in themselves for a few days but they’d already booked in deep cleaners, carpet fitters and extra security measures like mortice locks and security lights to ward off any would-be burglars in the meantime.
I had a queasy feeling in my belly. I know I’d said that thing about being good on my own now, but I was still glad River was there, hanging around like a bodyguard whenever one of the Aussies spoke to me, helping move boxes, making tea and coffee for everyone in between furniture-lugging.
He was everybody’s friend by the end of that day.
Jordy and I sat on the edge of the removal van when the guys had gone in for a bacon sandwich and a flirt with Melissa. Well, she flirted – they just stood around trying not to gaze at her leathery tit overspill. We hadn’t mentioned the interview yet but Jordy brought it up as we swigged lemonade.
‘It’s all over social media today. It’s all anyone can talk about,’ said Jordy.
‘Well, it would be, wouldn’t it? You don’t get to see someone beheaded on live TV every day of the week. She’s going to be even more lusted after than ever now. I’m amazed we haven’t had any paps at the door today.’
‘We did, first thing. River threatened them. Haven’t seen them since.’
‘Oh wow. I must have been in the shower. Good.’
‘Man alive. Your actual mother did that. Can you believe it?’
‘No. Did Melissa see it?’
‘Nah, she and Dad went to bed. She’s trying to avoid the TV today.’ They cleared their throat. ‘By the way, I know about Mexico.’
‘What? How?’
‘I wasn’t snooping on you, honest. I just happened to see the search on your laptop this morning. You left it on the breakfast bar.’
‘Only for a second when I went to get milk out the fridge.’
‘Well, I know how much you don’t wanna go tomorrow and I had a feeling you’d try and get out of it somehow. I saw the flight booking on one of your tabs. Going for the long shot, are ya?’
‘Are you going to say something? Melissa won’t let me go if she knows.’
‘She can hardly stop you, can she?’
‘Well, no.’
‘So who’s in Mexico then?’
‘I can’t say.’
‘It’s Rafael, isn’t it? Come on, it’s pretty obvious. Why else would you go there?’
‘I’m going to stay with him. Them.’
‘So Rhiannon didn’t kill him?’
‘No, it was a ruse. He’s in hiding. With my little brother. I shouldn’t have told you that. But I’m so excited. I can’t wait. Please don’t tell anyone I said that.’
‘It’s fine,’ they said, staring at me intently with a look I couldn’t read.
‘Hey, we’re mates, aren’t we? I won’t let rip, I promise.
But listen, are you sure it’s safe? You’d be going out there all on your own, to God knows what.
You don’t know Rafael, you don’t know if where he is will be safe.
Wouldn’t it be better to come to Oz and be with us and then when you’re older—’
‘—no, Jordy. I want to be with my brother. Surely you can understand that? Can’t you?’
‘Yeah,’ they said, hooking their arm around my shoulders in a friendly hug. ‘I suppose I can.’
When most of the furniture was loaded and whatever wasn’t being sold or charity-shopped was going to the tip on a last run, I walked into Mum’s empty bedroom and pushed the door gently open.
The crows that were usually on the front lawn were gone, so were the mice and all Mum’s furniture now too.
The Thompson-Pierces had had the good grace to leave her wardrobe to me to sort out when I was ready, but all her books, bed covers and ornaments had gone – parcelled up for eBay or in the back of the removals van, I wasn’t sure.
I opened the wardrobe and the little light came on as always.
And my pictures were there as always, Blu-Tacked up on the doors. She always put her favourite drawings I’d made her in there, whichever house we lived in, wherever we were, so they would be the first thing she saw in the morning.
I didn’t cry this time as the waft of her perfume came at me, circling my head.
I breathed it in gladly as I pulled things off hangers and folded them into polythene bags.
One at a time – a dress, a top, a jumper with a cancer badge still pinned to the lapel or a Remembrance Day poppy sticker or a eucalyptus lozenge, sticky at the bottom of a pocket.
A handbag with folded tissues in or confetti from some long-ago wedding or a lipstick still with her lip markings on.
I sat there cross-legged on the soft carpet in front of that wardrobe for an hour, folding things up and packing clothes away until the bedroom door creaked and somebody came in: Melissa.
‘There you are. We’re getting a takeaway for dinner. Chinese. Riv said he wants to try aromatic duck in pancakes. Did you want anything special?’
‘No, thanks.’
‘You should eat something. You can’t get through a whole day without a bit of tucker inside ya—’
‘—I’ll get something later. I’ll be done here in a second.’
‘No rush.’ She hovered beside me, staring at the empty top shelf and around me at the bulging bags of summer clothes for a summer that was never going to arrive. ‘She sure did have a lot of clothes, our Claud.’
‘Do you want any of it?’
‘Nah, I couldn’t wear her clobber. We didn’t have the same style anyway, even as kids.’ She helped herself to one of the last dresses from a hanger. ‘She was all florals and long skirts – I was always mini-skirts and strappy vests.’
‘That’s an original Laura Ashley,’ I pointed out. ‘Might fetch something.’
‘Nah, I couldn’t.’
‘Why not? You’ve sold everything else, why not that?’
She sighed. ‘Your solicitor woman said the contents were fair game.’
‘Yeah, and you’ve certainly played it.’
‘What did you expect? We sit around staring at it all, like a shrine?’
‘I expected you to wait until she was cold, that’s what,’ I snapped, getting to my feet. Melissa stood back from me as I punched the last dress into the last bag and tightened the knot at the top. She was giving me That Look again. I dropped the bag to the carpet with a thud.
‘Don’t worry – I might verbally bite your head off but the similarity ends there.’
She let out a breath as I took the bags, two at a time, to the landing at the top of the stairs. She followed me out with two more.
‘Once you get your resident’s permit, I thought maybe you might like to try journalism, like your dad. He enjoyed working with Claudia. There’s a local rag office near us called—’
‘—I don’t want to be a journalist.’
‘What?’
‘I don’t want to be a musical theatre star either – I think I only did all that for Mum, because she loved it.
I had to get good parts in our school plays cos I knew how happy it made her.
And I got into football because Mitch loved it and I was good at it.
I think I want to rescue animals, maybe street dogs or something.
Buy a farm and get a load of stray, mangey dogs and just play football with them. Is that a really rubbish ambition?’
She didn’t seem to be listening anyway. ‘AJ loved his job at the Gazette.’
‘No, he didn’t – he was bored.’
Her face darkened. ‘What?’
‘He talked about it on his socials. He only took the job because Claudia got him it and he was biding his time until he could go travelling.’
‘He loved that job. He was going to be a journalist. He was gonna get his qualifications and everything.’
‘No, he wasn’t,’ I said again. ‘He only said that so you’d get off his back. He wanted to travel. He wanted to be free. I can see why now. You kept him in a cage, probably fed him on takeaways too. Like Hansel, being stuffed with endless greasy fried bones by some witch. You smothered him.’
‘How dare you!’
‘That’s why he wanted to leave. Probably tired of cleaning up your puke or settling Larry’s debts.’
‘Don’t you dare talk to me like that!’ she seethed.
‘Jordy told me you were pissed all the time and how he hated being in the house. He didn’t have a clue what he wanted to do – all he knew was he wanted to get away from you.’
Melissa’s tears sploshed onto the polythene bags at our feet and she ran out the door, howling.
Actually howling. It hadn’t made me feel better, shouting at her, but it had cleared the air between us.
If I’d spoken to Mum like that, she’d have blanked me for a few hours at least, but Melissa came back within ten minutes and stood with her back against the wall.
‘He would want you to have his bedroom.’
‘What?’
‘We’ll do that when we get back. You can have AJ’s bedroom. It should be used again. Shrines aren’t good. He’s never coming back so … If anyone should be using it, it’s you.’
‘Thanks,’ I said, even though something felt off.
‘And we’ll see about getting you a job or a college course in whatever you want to do, stuff journalism. You can do animal stuff if you want. Maybe you’re right – if I hadn’t smothered him, as you say, he wouldn’t have come over here in the first place. And met … her.’
‘Rhiannon.’
She glared at the sound of Rhiannon’s name, but nodded.
She was being agreeable now, all yes sir, no sir, three bags full.
AJ had said she was like that. An argument would blow up but then she’d breeze back in and be Mrs Compliant.
He had several nicknames for her – ‘Jekyll and Hyde’, ‘Bait and Switch’ and plain old ‘Mel-o-Dramatic’.
I could see my future mapped out before me with Melissa having a starring role.
Always falling out because I wouldn’t take half the shit my dad did.
Always caring for her because of her relapses, like he had to do.
Always escaping to the beach to surf when it got too much to bear.
How she wanted him to be what she wanted him to, never actually listening to his view.
It was all there on his socials; a warning of the future from the past. I thought about telling her about me not coming to Australia but it seemed easier to get to the airport and disappear. That way she couldn’t claw me back.
We were interrupted by the sound of the crows on the front lawn, cawing and pecking at the wet grass. I walked to the window, counting them out. Melissa followed me.
‘They’re back,’ I said. ‘Just seven today,’ I noted. ‘That’s interesting.’
‘What do you mean?’ said Melissa, standing beside me.
‘Prosperity,’ I said firmly. She seemed impressed. ‘Oh shit.’
‘What?’
An eighth crow had landed on the lawn, pecking about, cawing louder than the rest. ‘Now there’s eight.’
‘What does eight mean?’
‘Sadness.’