‘Do you have a bully in your life?’
Ms Turner’s question took her completely by surprise. Juliet knew she should always be on the alert, armoured against intrusion. Instead, she’s been drawn in by Noah’s story, saddened by Wandile’s stuttered outburst. She’s doing what she promised herself she never would. She’s becoming involved.
She looks out through her window, to the mountain in the distance. Maybe it’s time to practise what she’s been preaching to Noah, start telling the truth. That’s all Ms Turner wants for her. That’s what she said the other day. ‘It’s all you need, Juliet. To tell yourself the truth. It’s hard, I know.’
Thin clouds are crawling down the mountain now, joining heaven to earth in a gauzy band. They never last, never gather enough to let rain fall. All they do is waft, then fade away in the glare of the sun.
There’s no one on the lawn, no one sitting on the benches. No one to smile and wave at and distract her by thinking about their sorry lives instead of her own.
Juliet’s journal is open on the table and she thinks about filling the blank pages with thoughts about her father, her mother, her life. Writing down the truth of it. She closes her eyes and sees her father, his bald head sliding past her room, his ruined face looking in on her. Never saying a word to her. Just looking.
Juliet picks up her pen.