Chapter 3

THEY WALKED AROUND THE BACK of the school, along the concrete path split into shadow and light by the afternoon sun, the dog ambling beside her. Daniel was sullen, unusually quiet.

“Something bothering you, bub?”

There was a long silence as she waited for him to offer something up. But he had retreated into himself. Even in profile she could see it; this thing unspoken. The way he stuck out his bottom lip, as though trying to work something out. He’d been like this when he first arrived: impassive, unreachable. In the months that followed she’d chipped away at this wall. They’d gone down to the beach, and kicked a ball around. They’d played tennis at the local court, on the Wii when they couldn’t be bothered going out. Every night the same bedtime ritual, his little hand wrapped around her arm. Slowly, the bricks had come down, one by one. Seeing him like this, Elena felt a rush of grief. In spite of everything, he could revert back in an instant.

They walked past a mother and twin boys coming the other way. Kids from Daniel’s class. They wore the same uniform of navy shorts and a pale blue shirt, blue sun hats hiding their faces. They greeted him, but he didn’t even look up.

She tried again. “You know you can tell me anything.”

He glanced her way, considered this.

“Daniel, what is it?”

After a few moments he spoke: “You didn’t tell me they were coming today.”

“Who?”

“Children’s Surfaces.”

Elena looked at him, but he wouldn’t meet her gaze, head down. His quiet fury. It took a moment for her to register what he meant. “You mean Children’s Services – the people who come and visit us every month?”

He grunted.

“Was it Julie?”

No reply.

“Daniel.”

He kept walking.

Elena took a step forward, put her hand on his shoulder, turned him around. She crouched down, stiffly, slowly. The sun felt hot on the back of her neck. She could feel her pulse quicken, racing through her veins. “Did Julie come and see you?”

He twisted a shoe into the dirt beside the path, shook his head.

“You’re not in trouble, darling,” she said in a gentle voice. “Just tell me what happened. Did some grown-ups come and see you today?”

The boy answered at last. “Not Julie. Another lady and a man from that place. And my dad.”

“Your dad?”

“You didn’t tell me he was coming,” he said fiercely, and turned his face away from her, eyes welling with tears.

Elena was staring at him, shocked. What the hell was going on? How could they not tell her? Perhaps Julie had forgotten, she thought. But an access visit from Nathan Anderson was a big thing to forget. Especially since she’d made a point of mentioning he was still in rehab, where he couldn’t do as he pleased. Except, of course, when it came to privileges for good behaviour. Elena felt her anger rise, filling her mouth with the taste of bile. The man was an animal. Nothing could change that. But he made platitudes, snivelling apologies; he’d say anything. And it shocked her that people kept falling for it.

“I’m so sorry, darling. I had no idea.”

She went to take Daniel’s hand in hers but he swatted it away. “Don’t make me go with him, mama.”

The words made her blood run cold, filled her with panic. Was that why they hadn’t told her about the visit?

She took his chin in her hand, forced him to meet her gaze. “Nobody’s going anywhere. You hear me?”

It was all she had to offer. She suspected Daniel already knew the truth, was more resigned to it than her: that against their most fervent wishes, it was only a matter of time before they would be separated for good. Still, she had to give him something. He looked so wretched and sad.

“OK?”

He nodded, not entirely convinced. But it would have to do for the moment. And with that reassurance he burst into tears. Elena wrapped her arms around him, felt the protruding bones of his shoulders. There were tears in her eyes too, and she hoped he hadn’t seen them.

Rafi, hearing the anguish in his tiny friend’s voice, lifted his nose from the grass and came over, pressing his nose into Daniel’s thigh, gave a long whine of sympathy.

Elena pulled back and wiped away Daniel’s tears with the heel of her palm. She smiled wanly. “Let’s go get some ice-cream. Any flavour you like.”

The boy brightened. “Can I have two scoops?”

“Absolutely. In fact … let’s live on the edge and get three.”

Daniel grinned a shy crooked grin.

They turned and went back the way they came, the dog walking in the middle, tongue lolling, happy at the restored peace. Elena thought about the call she’d have to make when they got home. She shivered, even though it wasn’t cold. She wondered what kind of conversation Daniel would have had with his father. Anderson couldn’t say much with the caseworkers sitting there. But his presence alone – seething, angry – had been enough to terrify the child. She’d seen it the moment he walked out the school gates, pale and withdrawn. Shell-shocked.

“Chocolate and vanilla.”

Elena turned to see him kicking a rock along the path. “That’s only two. You need to pick one more.”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, you don’t need to decide now. You can choose when we get there.”

He smiled properly then, and went back to kicking the rock. Elena swapped the lead into her other hand, her heart still battering inside her chest, and reached forward to squeeze his shoulder.

Daniel spun on his heels, gave her a sidelong look. “It’ll be OK, mama.”

She said nothing, rattled. The boy read her so easily. Perhaps it was because of the way he always watched her so assiduously, fearing if he blinked she’d be gone. It never ceased to amaze her that, even at six years old, he saw all that she tried to hide. She felt the blood rushing to her cheeks, eyes filling. “I know, bub.”

He kicked the rock a couple more times then lost interest. He ran on ahead, rounding into the main street. She trailed him past the surf shop with Rafi leading the way.

“God, I love you,” she whispered as he disappeared from view. As if that could make things right, she thought ruefully. As if that could fix anything.

Mama hadn’t looked like that for ages, with that sad crumpled face, so Daniel felt bad when he told her about his dad coming to the school, turning up that way – with no warning. He saw the tears fill her eyes and he wished he hadn’t said anything.

“I had no idea,” she’d said through gritted teeth.

She didn’t talk in the car on the way home, but turned on the radio, and let him pick the station. He glanced at her while she was waiting to turn into the driveway. Her lips were tight, like she was thinking about something really hard.

She was in the other room now, talking on the phone. He couldn’t make out any words, just the sound of her voice: high and thin. Then she came to the door, looked out at him and Rafi on the couch, and gave a little smile. “Everything OK, bub?” she said.

Daniel nodded. He watched her free hand closed tightly around the doorknob, the whites of her knuckles, then a moment’s hesitation before she disappeared back into the room, pulling the door shut behind her. He knew she was still upset because he’d been playing Zombie Apocalypse for over an hour – ever since they’d arrived home – and she hadn’t said anything. Usually, he was only allowed half an hour at most, before she sent him outside to play.

He shifted his gaze back to the television. The only sounds were the gunfire and the screeching of the zombies as they died from a single shot to the head and turned to a pile of ash. It was the only way to kill them properly. He closed his fingers around the controller, shot another one coming down a laneway.

Rafi was half asleep, his head rested on Daniel’s leg.

“Look, Rafi,” he whispered, pointing to a row of green stars on the screen. “Bonus points. That’s because that was a really bad one, just like my dad.”

The dog looked up at him, eyes pure black, like he completely understood what Daniel was saying. He rearranged himself into his favourite position, all four legs in the air, and went back to sleep.

“I’m never going back there,” Daniel added softly. “Not ever.”

He slumped back on the couch, his feet dangling over the edge. He wished he could stay here forever. And he knew, from the way she always cuddled and kissed him, watched him from his bedroom door when she thought he was asleep, that mama felt the same way too. She loved him. She always told him so.

He couldn’t remember his real mother very well, her face was a blur. She’d died nearly a year and a half ago. She got sick, mama said. But she really loved you. Daniel knew that wasn’t true; that she was just saying it to make him feel better. He knew his real mother had taken something bad. Some stuff. He saw the long black car that came and took her away. The people who’d come to the house that night were talking about it in the van, like he wasn’t there, or as if he wouldn’t understand. But he remembered the needles, and the little bags with white powder in them. And how if he touched them she’d get really mad, and hit him over the back of the head. Or shove him away.

But most of all, he remembered his father stomping around the house, kicking holes in the walls whenever something made him mad. Daniel used to crouch down and look through those holes, wondering if they might lead to an escape tunnel, somewhere to hide. He wished he could squeeze through them and run far away.

In the van, Daniel sat with a lady in a blue jacket, two bright yellow letters on the sleeves: CS. She told him her name was Julie Miller and that they were going somewhere safe. As they drove away, he stared out the window, at the flashing lights, red and blue, from the police cars. He watched his father sitting on the front lawn, his feet and hands tied up with plastic cables, two big policemen on either side of him. He could see the spit at the corners of his mouth, the rage directed at them. He was only five then, but it was a face he would never forget.

Julie’s hand squeezed his shoulder. “Everything’s going to be OK now,” she said, gently stroking his hair. “You’ll see.”

They went into a big building with bright lights, and they took him into an office. He slept under a desk, while Julie sat in a chair beside him. He kept lifting his head, to check she was still there, that he really was safe, until his head became as heavy as stone and finally, he slept.

The next morning they took him for a shower, dressed him in some clothes that weren’t his own, and made him vegemite on toast for breakfast. Julie came in as he was finishing up, and he asked her when he was going home, but she made a face like she’d just eaten something horrible. She crouched down in front of his chair, put her hands on his knees.

“You won’t be going back there for a little while, sweetheart,” she said slowly. “Your dad just has some grown-up problems. You’ll be staying somewhere else … just until he gets himself sorted.”

He nodded, but must have looked doubtful.

“Her name is Elena, and she is a really nice lady,” Julie continued, her voice a bit too cheerful. “And she’s got a house right near the beach, and a little dog.”

He nodded again, but said nothing. Just listened. Then the door to the corridor opened, a murmur of voices wafting through it. He watched the procession: people walking in both directions, holding lots of papers, everybody serious.

“Look, Tyson. Here she is now.”

From the corner by the window, he saw her coming over to him. He watched as she pulled up a chair, placed her hands in her lap. Her fingers were long and thin. She had curly dark hair that fell over her forehead, and big brown eyes. There was something sad about them, like his mother’s when she wasn’t yelling, but during the long silences on the couch, staring into space, something broken. But there was a sparkle there too, like the sadness hadn’t been there long enough to take over completely.

“Hello, there, Tyson,” she said.

“Hello.”

“My name is Elena. I’m going to be looking after you for a little while.” Her voice was soft, like sunshine.

Daniel dropped his gaze to the floor, suddenly shy, his eyes on the carpet tiles, the scuffed edges where the squares met. “My mum’s dead.”

She nodded. “Yes, I know, darling. Julie told me. That’s really horrible, and I’m so sorry to hear that.”

He was surprised by that, the way she talked to him, and not at him. The other adults used their special voices, as though he needed to be protected from the truth. As though he hadn’t seen it all with his own eyes. Daniel glanced up at her, and felt his unease shift. Maybe, he thought, Julie had been right. Everything’s going to be OK now, she’d said. You’ll see.

“Do I get a bed?” he asked.

“In my house?”

He nodded, and watched her through his fringe, felt it tickle his eyelids.

“Where did you sleep before?” she asked.

“On the couch.”

Her hands fluttered to her mouth, then she said, “Yes, of course. I’ve already got a room ready for you.”

“I don’t have to share?”

“Not with anyone.”

“You have a dog?”

“I do. His name is Rafi, and he can’t wait to meet you.” She smiled a little smile.

And he looked at her dark hair and pretty eyes and smiled back.

Daniel threw the controller aside, and spun around. He watched mama go into the kitchen, and come back. Her expression was the same as the one from the car, closed off. He wondered who she’d rung. Maybe it was Julie. Maybe his father would get in trouble for coming to the school, and not be allowed to come again. Ever. That’s what he hoped.

Wished.

He turned around, and slumped back into his spot. He thought of his father standing there when they had taken him into the principal’s office. He was smirking, arms crossed so all his tattoos were on display. He whistled through his teeth. The principal pacing. Grimacing. Daniel heard him saying over and over that this was most unexpected. He hesitated at the door. His teacher, Mrs Meyers, quickly reassuring him that everything was okay. Then he felt a hand at his back, gently nudging him into the room.

Mrs Meyers sat beside him, and held his hand. She wasn’t going anywhere, she said. But she still looked worried, as if something really bad was about to happen. He looked over at the lady and the man who’d come with his dad. They smiled, tight-lipped. You’re worried too, he thought. Daniel wanted to cry then. He squeezed his teacher’s hand really hard. She squeezed back. There wasn’t much talking. Other than a few questions from his dad: Do you play any sports? What kind? Soccer, eh? Where do you play that?

Daniel picked up the controller, started playing again. He didn’t want to think about his dad anymore. It made him scared and worried. He just wanted to forget about the whole thing.