Promise (7 page)

The girl climbed the steps, her head down. She didn’t glance back at Anna. He grabbed her arm and dragged her inside. The door slammed behind them.

The little girl was trapped in that house now. Like all children were trapped in their families until they were old enough to leave of their own free will. Did Charlie look out and imagine another life? Anna stood up, feeling sick. There was no way she was going to climb over and retrieve her torch. It would shine all night until its battery died.

Inside, she texted the two photos to Dave.
Look, this is the latest next door. I’m about to call FACS again. And he’s the stepfather, not father
.

•

She woke to a car door slamming and men’s voices. From the window she watched two policemen walking up the path next door. FACS must have called them.
Shit
. Would Charlie be in trouble? Or Anna? The cops knocked loudly on the door and she heard Gabby’s voice. Would the police actually do something this time, once they saw Charlie’s arm? Would they take her?

Anna moved through the house to check that her front and back doors were locked, and that all the windows were shut. She climbed back into bed, and a text pinged from Dave.

Shit. Do you want to come here?

She couldn’t bear the thought that she was running away from Harlan, tail between her legs, while Charlie had no choice but to stay there.

I’ll stay put. Sleep at yours tomorrow, though?

Of course. Kids leave 3ish.

While she waited to see what the cops did, she used her phone to google
When does FACS take children away?
She found herself reading about a three-year-old boy in Newcastle whose mother was charged with his murder. The little boy’s neighbours and day carers all made reports to FACS but the local office didn’t remove him and didn’t have enough staff to keep checking on him. Anna shut her laptop and conjured a picture of Charlie asleep in her bed, Bunny tucked up beside her.

The cops left half an hour later. Without Charlie.

S
he woke late. 10 am. Harlan’s ute was gone, thank god. She sent Dave a text and asked him to call when his kids had gone home.

Sure
, he texted back.
How’s it there this morning?

All quiet.
She scrolled through the photos on her phone. The bruise on Charlie’s arm looked no less awful.

As she pulled eggs and bacon from the fridge, she heard a rattle from the backyard. Charlie was at the fence, fiddling with a loose paling. She tossed Anna’s torch over into the camellia bush, her injured arm held awkwardly against her body.

Then Anna saw Harlan sitting on the back step smoking a cigarette and talking on his phone.
Oh shit
. Gabby must have taken the ute. Charlie wandered around to the front yard, out of Anna’s sight.

Anna ate her fry-up at the kitchen table with a pot of strong tea and the Saturday paper. Her dad phoned while she was reading the real-estate section, looking at too-expensive garden flats for sale in Rosebery.

‘Hey, Annie.’ He sounded very chipper.

‘Hi, Dad.’ She closed the paper.

‘Luke called me last night. Cecily’s pregnant again!’

She felt a pang at how delighted he sounded. ‘Oh, wow. Was that planned?’ Anna’s brother already had two girls, the youngest only nine months old.

‘Oh, well, they don’t tell me that kind of thing.’

Anna had met her eldest niece once, when Luke and his English wife came over for Christmas two years ago.

She lowered her voice. ‘I called FACS again about the girl next door.’

‘What happened?’

‘She was locked outside at eleven o’clock at night.’

‘Poor mite. Well, you’re doing the right thing, love.’

‘And I guess FACS called the cops because they turned up after midnight. You know, Dad, I’m afraid he’s going to kill her.’ Her scalp prickled. ‘I read about a little boy in Newcastle who died, and his neighbours were worried and had reported him over and over . . . He was killed by his mother.’

‘What’s this guy next door’s name?’

‘Harlan Something.’

‘Do you want me to come? I could just get in the car and come and stay with you for a while. I don’t like you being next door to this guy.’

‘Oh, I think he only picks on little people.’

Her dad wouldn’t be able to stand up to Harlan. Not these days.

‘It’s okay, Dad.’

She wouldn’t tell him she’d taken to sleeping with all the windows locked and the landline phone by the bed. If she called triple zero from the landline, they’d know where she was without her even saying a word.

He sighed. ‘Well, you let me know if you want me to come. And keep calling FACS and the police. You’re the little girl’s advocate at the moment.’

‘But I’ve called them twice and the cops have come twice. What’s it going to take for FACS to come and check on her? Dave said he knows of kids who haven’t been visited by FACS after
seventeen
reports.’

He was silent, then said, ‘Kids can be remarkably resilient. They’re survivors.’

Is that what he thought Anna and Luke were? Survivors?

‘Yeah. Well, surviving’s one thing. But isn’t flourishing the aim?’

His voice was heavy. ‘Yes.’

Did he think Anna had flourished? She was nearly forty with no husband, no babies, renting what he thought was a crappy old house.

‘Anyway,’ he said, ‘I thought I might go over to see Luke and Cecily. Have a white Christmas. I’ll pay for your airfare, too, if you’ll come with me. The business is doing well at the moment.’

‘Oh, Dad, that’s kind of you. But that’s a lot of money. And I’ve only got two weeks off at Christmas.’

‘I want you to come, Annie.’

‘Let me think about it.’

She wondered how Luke would feel about both of them landing on him at the same time. She’d email him.

‘You save your money for a house deposit,’ he said.

After they hung up, Anna made a fresh pot of tea and looked next door. The place was quiet. Perhaps they’d gone out. She’d drive over the mountains to her dad’s first thing next Saturday. They could talk about his London idea and drive up to Mount Canobolas, like they used to. Her dad’s calm and steady presence was exactly what she needed.

•

Late afternoon, Anna sat at the kitchen table sketching a grasshopper she’d found dead on the back step. As she sharpened her pencil, she heard shouting next door. Her heart flared.
No. Not more.

She stood, pencil in her hand, and through the window saw Harlan bending over Charlie by the clothesline. He gripped Charlie’s t-shirt with one hand and shouted, ‘That’s it! I’ve fuckin’ had it with you!’

His other hand was lifted, the fist clenched. Charlie’s face screwed up as if anticipating a blow. Anna took one step towards the door and then back to find her phone.
The cops
. She swiped her phone as Charlie screamed.

Harlan held her upside-down by the ankles, and shook her violently. Charlie’s head wobbled about and her arms flailed in the air.

‘Stop wriggling or I’ll fuckin’ drop you!’

Anna flung open the door and shouted, ‘Stop! Stop! Stop!’

Her voice was not loud enough. She found herself at the fence.

‘Stop! Stop!’ It was all she could say.

He turned to face Anna, Charlie still dangling from his hands. The girl twisted and he dropped her to the ground. She landed on her hands and scrabbled away on all fours, over the grass towards Anna, and burrowed in under some bushes by the fence. Harlan stared at Anna, his face calm. He adjusted the neck of his white t-shirt before slowly crossing to the fence.

He placed one hand on the fence and stared at her with a small smile. He’d slicked his hair back and she could see the track left by each tooth of the comb. A mower started up nearby and some kids shouted. Ordinary suburban sounds.

His lips barely moved as he spoke. ‘You and your boyfriend. You step
very
carefully.’

From the corner of her eye, Anna saw Charlie crawl along the fenceline, then through a gap in the palings and into Anna’s backyard, dragging her toy bunny with her.

He shook his head slowly. ‘You have no fuckin’ idea who you are dealing with here.’ He narrowed his eyes and spoke slowly, ‘You call the cops on me one more time, love . . . and you will be really fuckin’ sorry.’

There was only the rickety fence between them. If he looked to his right he’d see Charlie’s bright pink singlet where she crouched under the camellia bush.

Saliva flooded Anna’s mouth. She kept her eyes on him. She would not glance over at the girl.

Don’t move, Charlie.
He was so close she could smell his aftershave. He could easily climb over the fence. Would anyone come if she screamed?

This is how murders happen
, she thought. A person felt safe, invincible even, and then – in a moment – they were not safe. They were dying.

He tilted his head to one side. ‘Did you hear me? Anna.’

The deliberate way he said
Anna
was more frightening than anything else he’d said.

He slammed his fist against the fence and she staggered back. Her throat was thick but she forced herself to speak.

‘I heard you.’

Her legs were heavy. If he did climb over the fence, she wouldn’t be able to run.

He kicked away a paling on the ground and walked back inside, leaving the door wide open. She waited, listening for the sound of him coming back, but could only hear her heart banging in her ears and the tinny buzz of the mower a few doors down. She wouldn’t look at Charlie until she felt sure Harlan wasn’t about to walk back out. A door banged in the front of the house and music blared on.

Anna squatted in front of the camellia, and the ground seemed to rock beneath her.

‘He’s gone, Charlie,’ she whispered. ‘Quick. Let’s go inside my house.’

The girl’s knees were bent and pulled in close to her body, her injured arm held awkwardly near her neck. She trembled as she scanned the garden behind Anna.

Anna reached out her hand. ‘Come here.’ She had to get them inside and lock the doors. Then she saw that Charlie’s shorts were dark. The girl had wet herself.

‘Come inside. We’ll go quick so he doesn’t see us.’

She knew, though, that they’d be in full view of Harlan’s back door as they went up the steps. She reached for Charlie’s hand but the girl shrank away and shook her head.

‘He’s inside your house now. Come with me. We’ll go into my house and lock the door.’

Finally, Charlie crawled out. The girl’s hand in Anna’s was damp and grainy with dirt. She scuttled beside Anna, then up the stairs, with a wide-legged gait. Anna’s hands shook as she locked the kitchen doors behind her and led Charlie through to the bathroom.

She should call the police. But what if the police left the girl there again? And what would happen to Charlie after the cops left? What would happen to Anna?

No, she’d call FACS and impress on them how violent he was and that he was just metres away, with no idea that she had Charlie in her house. Except that FACS might call the cops again. Thoughts ricocheted around her head. Meanwhile, Charlie stood motionless on the bath mat, dirt and leaves stuck to her legs. Anna peeled the girl’s wet shorts down and saw that she was wearing a nappy. It was heavy with urine and reeked. She dropped it into the bin.

‘Do you want to have a little bath to wash off the wee?’ She turned on the taps; she would call FACS while the girl bathed.

The girl looked up at the ceiling. ‘What’s that noise?’

Anna froze. ‘What noise?’ All she could hear was water gushing into the bath. What if it was Harlan? Any strength in her limbs drained away. She remembered being a child in bed, paralysed white-hot by a noise outside her window.

‘It’s a
bok
,
bok
noise,’ Charlie whispered.

Anna turned off the taps and forced herself to open the bathroom door and stick her head out. There was nothing, only the mower and kids squealing down the road. Then the roof pinged.

‘That! What’s that?’ Charlie’s face was tight.

‘It’s the roof creaking in the heat. It’s okay. It’s not him. It does that all the time.’

She turned the taps back on and helped Charlie into the bath. ‘Here’s a face washer. I’m just going to make a phone call, okay?’ She had to talk to FACS before Harlan figured out where Charlie was.

Charlie’s eyes filled with tears and she squeezed the washer in her hands. ‘I saw you at the door.’

‘You mean when I came to your front door the other night?’

Charlie nodded.

‘Yes. I saw you, too. You waved at me.’

Charlie whispered, ‘He flushed the toilet.’

‘He flushed the toilet? What do you mean?’ She wanted to call FACS, not talk about toilets.

‘That night you came over he did the flush.’

‘What do you mean?’

Charlie didn’t reply.

‘Charlie? What happened?’ It was something terrible, she knew.

‘I nearly drownded.’

‘How did you nearly drown?’

The girl swallowed and looked up at Anna with her too-direct gaze. Charlie placed a hand on top of her head, and as she lifted it off, a few strands of hair stuck to her wet hand. ‘When he put my head in the toilet.’

Anna felt a rush in her body, as if everything was dilating. ‘Harlan put your head down the toilet?’

She gave a small nod. ‘And did the flush.’ Her voice was very quiet. ‘The water was down my throat and nose and . . .’ she whispered, ‘. . . he wouldn’t let me out.’

Her eyes moved across Anna’s face, as if trying to read her response. Anna gripped the edge of the bath and closed her eyes.

‘Shit,’ she said. The water still gushed into the bath, the sound filling the room until it roared in her ears.

•

She made the phone call just outside the bathroom door so she could keep an eye on Charlie.

‘Hello, my name is Anna Pierce. I’ve called before. I’ve called
twice
before about the child next door.’ Her voice shook. ‘She’s five, her name is Charlie Seybold and she lives at 72 Melford St, Mascot. She just told me that her stepfather stuck her head down the toilet and flushed it. That happened on the first night I called you. And I just saw her stepfather hold her by the feet and shake her and he threatened me because I called the police the other night, and because I think you called the police last night. He’s . . . he’s very frightening.’