They kicked their shoes off on the wide veranda, all except Levi, who couldn’t get his off without dismantling the calliper. Calli unlocked the enormous, white front door into the cavernous hallway, feeling shy as the others made their way cautiously over the threshold. Alison had given her a key on a special ring with a delicate wooden house and the word, ‘Home’ painted on it. Calli loved it and appreciated the trust involved in the ceremonial handing over. Alison had done it easily, but it meant the world to the broken teenager.
“Wow!” Sadie breathed, taking in the sitting area in the lobby around the open fire, the book shelves laden with novels displaying elderly faded spines. “Lucky! I wanna live here too.” Her blonde braids swung as her head turned to examine every aspect of the architectural feast.
“I don’t wanna live here,” Jase stated grumpily, his bottom lip hanging out spectacularly and his eyes narrowed and angry still. He clung to Calli’s hand all the way home, no easy feat with the metal handcuffs banging her thumb joint with every step, but he seemed determined not to separate them and Calli didn’t have the heart to reach down and slip his slender wrist out of the band, which would have been simple to do. Let him think he had secured her for now. He was going to make a terrible scene when Calli got him home, not to mention the difficulty of extracting herself.
Calli directed Declan around the huge kitchen, fetching glasses down and filling them with tap water. She dragged Jase over to the pantry for a packet of biscuits, growing annoyed when he complained about being hauled around. In the end, it was Declan who came to the rescue. “Is it hurting mate?” he asked, gently taking Calli’s hand in his. “Why don’t I help?” He followed the cuffs along their centre to Jase’s end and slipped his wrist out of the band. “There you go. Now you can eat a chocolate biscuit.”
With admirable expertise, Declan lifted him up and settled him on a bar stool at the centre island in front of the plate of cookies. He skillfully distracted him with the water and food, popping Levi up next to him with a quiet warning about not dinging his metal leg gear on the wooden sides. Calli saw Declan ruffle Levi’s hair with a tender hand and felt the familiar buzz rise up in her chest at the covert action. She struggled to fight the sensation back into its box, relegating Declan safely to the role of friend and nothing more. They had crossed a terrible line that night in the bush and it detonated the possibility of any other kind of relationship between them. Not for the first time, Calli regretted it.
“Mummy’s got a new boyfriend,” Levi chirped up suddenly with his mouth full of crumbly, gluten free biscuit. Calli wondered for such a tiny child, where he put all the food. Sadie settled herself on a stool next to him.
“You’re gonna have the runny poo and fart problem tomorrow,” Jase told his friend and Levi smirked.
“I know.”
“What’s he look like?” Sadie asked, interested only in the shallower details of the boyfriend.
“Dunno,” Levi replied. “She wants to bring him round to meet us, but Declan got upset, so she can’t yet.”
Calli shot a secretive look at Declan. His lips were tightly closed and a look of pain cast a shadow across his handsome features. Calli felt the stroke of relief over her soul. Perhaps their night together wasn’t the only reason for his unhappiness of late. Calli was wise enough even at sixteen, to know she couldn’t help Declan. She had no experience of bereavement followed by new partners. Besides which, her own life problems were massive enough for her to understand she wasn’t equipped to take on someone else’s. She offered Declan a tight smile of sympathy, which he saw before looking angrily away.
“Declan misses Daddy,” Levi was saying, “but I don’t remember him...”
“Stop!” Declan’s rebuke was full of buried emotion, which threatened to surface uncontrollably. Levi looked as though he might cry and the other children turned to look at the bigger boy with nervousness. Declan stalked over to the huge picture window, staring out at the manicured lawns beyond. The line of bushy conifers masked the presence of a housing estate beyond, bequeathing the house its former isolation and countrified lifestyle. For a while anyway.
Calli’s handcuffs clanked as she walked over to stand next to him. “I’m sorry,” she said simply, gratified by the glance of appreciation he bestowed sideways on her.
“It just feels wrong,” he whispered. “I thought we were ok as we were. I assumed I was doing fine, filling the gap. But obviously I’m not.”
His sense of rejection was raw. His dark skin projected teenage stubble down the side of his face and across his chin. Calli wanted to touch him, to comfort him, but had so little left to offer she was afraid to.
Afraid to show compassion, she mused. Is that who I’ve become?
Against her better judgement, she stretched out her clanking wrist and touched Declan’s forearm. His shirt sleeves were long ago rolled back to reveal his sinewy arms, the veins and muscles evident underneath his dark skin. An electrical pulse shot through Calli as her fingers connected with Declan’s flesh, taking her by surprise. It was as though she touched a mains socket and took the full force of the charge. Declan felt it too and looked down curiously at her. “Cal,” he whispered and reached out for her.
Feeling embarrassed, sure she had given herself away, Calli turned from him and went back to the little children, trying to clear up their mess and noticing with dismay, Jase still hadn’t really tried his biscuit. He licked the chocolate from one edge and then left it. “Come on, Jase. You’re normally such a piggie for sugary food,” Calli commented, perplexed.
The sound of shuffling footsteps made Calli’s body rigid with fear as she mopped up a water spill from Sadie. Her face was a picture of dismay as Alison came painfully into the kitchen. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Calli spluttered, jumping away from the children. “It’s all my fault. I thought it would be ok...”
Alison stared at Calli in amazement. “Sweetheart, it’s perfectly fine. You can have friends back here. This is your home.”
“I thought you were at work,” Calli countered, still feeling horribly in the wrong. Alison’s words would take time to filter down past the panic and into her addled brain.
“I was,” Alison said, shuffling over towards the kettle. “I came home early. I felt unwell and wanted to drive home before it got worse. I’ll be ok. This often happens.”
She lifted the kettle with difficulty, attempting to shuffle her reluctant body over to the sink.
“I’ll do it,” Declan said softly, taking the heavy metal object from Alison’s crippled fingers and filling it with ease. He set it down on its base to boil and leaned back against the counter. To Calli’s surprise, he started chatting to Alison about school, as though he knew her. Calli’s brow furrowed in confusion. She had the sneaking suspicion Declan and Levi had visited here before. They weren’t impressed by the house’s beauty in the same way as Sadie and Jase - and it showed. She grew anxious for reasons she couldn’t quite fathom.
“You go and sit in the lounge and I’ll bring you some tea when it’s brewed,” Calli said, breaking into Alison’s conversation with Declan. “These guys are leaving now.”
Declan looked indignant and Calli worried he was about to make a scene, but she should have known it wasn’t his style. He smiled graciously and collected up his brother. Calli knew this was her only safe place and an urge from deep inside her, told her the interlopers needed to be expelled from it. Alison limped off into the lounge, a huge room off the lobby and seated herself in front of the French windows with a book in her hand, although when Calli delivered her tea, she still hadn’t delved into its pages. Calli hovered for a moment after laying the tea gently down on a side table near to the woman. Alison looked slightly slumped in the chair, one arm lying useless across her stomach and she looked tired in a bone weary kind of way.
“I’ll be fine,” she said generously, seeing the angst in Calli’s face as the girl chewed nervously on her lip. “Sometimes it jumps up and bites me and I don’t see it coming. But Calli...” Alison looked her foster daughter full in the face with an understanding that made the teenager’s conscience prick horribly. “Whatever happens to me, you’re welcome to stay here, as long as you need to. You do know that, don’t you?”
Calli nodded uncertainly and scurried from the room, desperate to remove herself from the handcuffs which Alison kindly chose to ignore and get rid of her guests. Just to complicate matters, in the kitchen Jase had already begun a meltdown. Declan wrestled with the little boy, trying desperately to carry Levi whilst pulling Jase towards the door. Levi hung indelicately from under the bigger boy’s arm, still managing to munch nonchalantly on a cookie, while his calliper dangled awkwardly, broken somehow across the knee joint. Sadie stood in the corner with her arms crossed in the characteristic ‘you-can’t-make-me’ pose that Calli knew well. Jase had an oddly purple tinge to his face, which meant he was cranking up for a big one.
“I’ll walk home with you,” Calli offered and the effect was instant. Declan’s shoulders slumped with relief and he let go of Jase. Sadie unfolded her arms and skipped happily to the door and Jase stood up straight, looking smug. Levi continued to dangle and eat.
Calli felt mean. It was obvious only Declan understood that her accompaniment was temporary and the others, lulled into a false sense of security, went to the front door to put their sandals on, sitting on the veranda steps.
“Sorry. Again,” Declan said softly as he shoved his feet into his school shoes. Calli waved his concern off with a pretense at not being bothered. Declan piggy-backed Levi home along Borman Road, getting chocolate biscuit crumbs down the back of his shirt collar as Levi managed to produce four more cookies from his pocket on the way. Calli wondered at the level of Levi’s gluten intolerance if he could pig out on the principal’s muffins, but perhaps he was one of the lucky ones who would pay for it the next day instead of immediately.
At one point, Jase, who held tightly to Calli’s hand having stuffed his arm back through his side of the handcuffs, tripped and dropped his school bag onto the ground. It burst open as the rucksack’s plastic clips gave way and he wailed in misery as his Thomas the Tank Engine lunch box skittered across the hot tarmac. Sadie picked it up, weighing it in her hands in a mirror image of her mother and before Jase could react, pulled open the zipper and peeked inside. “Om!” she exclaimed. “You didn’t eat your lunch again!”
Calli looked down at her brother in dismay, while the accusing voice in her inner ear told her it was all her fault.
Levi confirmed it. “Jase is doing a hunger stwike,” he declared, saying the word with a cute lisp on the ‘r’ sound. “The Chinese people do them all the time. Tao told us. He’s Chinese.”
“You were s’posed to do it too!” Jase yelled angrily at him. “But you ate all the biscuits. I’m not your friend anymore!”
“Hey, hey,” Declan placated. “Neither of you should be going without food, not at your age. It’s really dangerous. Levi can’t miss mealtimes because otherwise he can’t have his medicine and you shouldn’t be missing them either. It doesn’t solve anything. Hurting yourself is dumb!” He emphasised the final statement and Calli felt a rush of conviction. Hurting herself was definitely dumb, but somehow it made her feel better. Despite the intervention of her counsellor, she had resorted to doing it again, finding it cathartic and emotionally releasing as the blood ran freely under the razor blade. They weren’t deep cuts, just enough to make the blood ooze. It was addictive and as she contemplated the stress which loomed ominously ahead of her, she craved the feeling of power it afforded her, holding the blade and deciding for herself where the punishment would be given. She could control nothing else in her life anymore, but at least she could be in charge of this one, small thing.
“Calli,” Declan touched her lightly on the upper arm and she jumped and looked around her. The group had progressed quite far, although as Calli stared at the landscape she knew they weren’t yet home. Discovery Drive opened out in front of her like a tarmac ribbon, winding through the suburb of Flagstaff as it had done for some years now. They still had a good kilometre to troop along. “Calli,” Declan said again, more urgently this time and it was then she turned towards the road and saw the police car circling in a side road ahead and coming back towards them. Simon was at the wheel.
“Cross over, quickly,” Calli hissed and pushed at Declan’s body but he refused, a look of confusion on his face. It was too late. Sadie spotted her father emerging and dashed towards the familiar white vehicle, its chevrons gaudy and urgent in the sparkling sunshine.
“Daddy, we found Calli,” she announced happily, skipping over to her father and winding her spindly arms around his waist. The tools of his trade hampered her grip and he smiled down at her and tousled her hair.
“Hop in the back then angel, I’ll give you a ride home.”
Simon’s eyes fixed on Calli, standing welded to his son. The kind, brown irises stared out at her, condemning her with the misery in them. The man had lost a great deal of weight, not that he ever had it to spare and his uniform shirt hung awkwardly off him, bunched up underneath the stab vest which protected his vital organs.
“What have we here?” he asked, summing up the situation quickly as only a serving police officer could. He took it all in without his eyes leaving Calli’s face, the sadness in her eyes, the dejected stance and the great beauty she always exuded. Her father was a good looker from the mug shots, despite his predilections. That was the irony of it all - he hadn’t needed to attack women to get sex. He was a stunner, who would have gotten them anyway, if he had only been kind, rational and possibly sane. Calli inherited distinctive looks, which Simon’s mother always maintained were her Samoan family’s hallmark; the dark features and the large eyes, that arrogance in the turn of her head which drove Marcia almost mental over the years, convinced she faced her attacker regularly, in the eyes of her child. Queenie was adamant to the point of argument - Calli had her mother’s blue eyes and Simon’s heritage. Simon sighed tiredly. It was wicked to have kept the baby on reflection, but at the time it seemed equally cruel not to.
Calli could read confusion in the eyes of a man who had raised her, done his best by her and tried to act as a human shield between Marcia and her. Finally, it destroyed him.
“I borrowed your cuffs,” Jase said guiltily, standing awkwardly on one leg and crossing his right foot over his left.
“So I see,” Simon replied. “Shame you didn’t borrow the key too. How about I unlock them for you?”
He moved forward and Jase shied back, yanking on the metal and causing Calli to let out a hiss of pain.
“Jase,” Simon said authoritatively, “You’re hurting your sister. Slip your arm out and hop in the car, please mate.”
“No,” Jase pouted. “You’re just gonna let her escape and then we’ll have to do it all again tomorrow.” He clung onto the metal until it bit into Calli’s wrist even more. Simon’s eyes flicked once towards Declan, who took the hint surprisingly quickly. He leaped into action helpfully.
“Come on Levi, let’s get a ride in a police car.”
He carted his brother over to the car and slid him into the front seat, fixing the belt around him and closing the door. Levi produced another crumbly biscuit from somewhere about his person and munched happily. Declan walked around to the opposite door from Sadie’s and opened it, standing next to it like a sentry. Simon glanced at him once and then took Jase’s arm in his large hands. “We need to get this off, Jase,” he said, ignoring the fact his son crumpled from the knees down as he hurled himself backwards in the beginnings of a monumental tantrum. His arm was out in seconds and Simon carried the squalling, screaming child over to the vehicle by his armpits, facing him outwards so as not to get kicked in the shins. Calli felt sick. Jase was never usually this awful.
With a restraint hold which was probably not lawful for use on children, Simon managed to bend his son in half so as to sit him in the centre rear seat. With quick fingers, he belted him up and stepped back for Declan to insert himself instantly in next to him. Declan spent the next three minutes sitting far too close to a hysterical demon-like creature, being kicked and flailed at as he tried to prevent Jase undoing his seat belt.
Simon moved quickly over to Calli, releasing her from the handcuffs and placing them easily onto their empty slot on his belt. Then to her surprise, he pulled her rigid body into his, holding her tightly and trying to communicate how he felt about her. “Calli, I love you more than you could ever know,” he whispered into her hair. “Please don’t give up on us, not yet. Can we meet, can I talk to you? Please, I can’t bear this.”
“You’re not allowed to know where I live,” she replied woodenly, forcing her body away from his.
To her amazement, he laughed. “I’m a cop,” he replied, “I’ve always known exactly where you live. I simply didn’t want to intrude.”
Calli looked concerned and for a moment, wondered whether to ask Mary to move her somewhere else. But she loved being with Alison and Allen and couldn’t cope with any more changes.
“Please?” he begged again, just as Jase’s sandal hit the window next to Declan’s face.
In the heat of the moment and fearful for poor Declan, who received a hearty beating from the apoplectic five year old, Calli gave the faintest of nods. Simon leaned in and kissed her on the forehead before turning back to his vehicle. He took one more look at his daughter of sixteen years as he spun the police car back around to take its reluctant occupants home. She was only a child, stood abandoned and alone on the residential suburban street. Her slender arms hung limply at her sides and her brow furrowed with thoughts her father could neither contemplate nor understand. It broke his heart and Calli saw the evidence with her perceptive blue eyes as he squeezed the bridge of his nose with his finger and thumb to prevent the tears escaping.
Calli saw Declan stare back at her as Jase’s bare foot appeared in his face, almost kicking him in the head. She couldn’t quite read the expression on his face, but inexplicably knew he wanted to say something to her, but hadn’t got the chance.
Calli’s walk home was filled with dark and lonely thoughts. She wished countless times she hadn’t agreed to meet Simon. He was only going to try to persuade her to return home, to be the unpaid babysitter, cook, cleaner and family scapegoat for any passing argument to settle on. Her mind flicked disconcertingly to Danny, to how it was when he was alive. He was equally as responsible as Calli for the day to day running of a household with two full-time-working parents and a sibling count of four.
Since Marcia’s terrible revelation, Calli had convinced herself she was always the family Cinderella, but the mind played tricks on people. Danny was asked to do exactly the same chores as her when he was alive. The only difference was they shared the tasks, amicably although not always equally. Perhaps that was it. With Danny gone, she was left to do it all. It seemed unfair and with the knowledge about her conception, Calli painted an inaccurate picture of her whole life. Was it possible her parents didn’t hate her - simply that she was saddled with it all out of necessity?
But Marcia’s once beautiful face drifted in front of Calli’s inner vision, scowling at some slight misdemeanor with abundant hatred and ready criticism. The girl shuddered visibly, as though some wanton spirit brushed ghostly fingers across the top of her head. No, there was no doubt about it, her mother hated her and always did.
Calli used the side roads and alley ways to get back to the safe house on Borman Road, afraid Simon might drop the children home and come after her. She sensed his emotional need to unburden himself, to explain history and regale her with the hideous details of her conception in one almighty purging of knowledge and she was wise enough to see she wouldn’t be able to cope. Calli knew enough to be thoroughly sickened by the whole sorry story. Nobody liked to imagine their parents sexually active, not least the details of how they came to exist. But hers wasn’t a tale of teenage fumbling, or deliberate intentional ‘trying for a baby,' complete with delight and congratulations at their combined fecundity. It was a nightmarish ghoul from the bottom of the pile in horror movies, which was met with shock, misery and decisions made with the best of intentions but poorly followed through.
When she thought about it, it stripped her of her appetite and caused a tight feeling at the base of her stomach. She didn’t know which was worse, the knowledge she was a product of rape, or that she was subsequently unwanted and continually punished for another’s act of control. The pain it gave was physical enough to double Calli over with the empty hollowness of it and to drive her back to her plush bedroom and the safety of the razor blade once again. The shiny metal called to her from the small tin on her desk, promising freedom and release from the terrible agony within if only for a while.