Watery Graves (14 page)

Chapter Twenty Five

“Two please,” Libby said, holding up two fingers to the ice cream lady. “Each with one scoop of Chocolate Royale and Caramel Fudge.”

“Cone or tub?”

“Do you want yours in a waffle cone?” Libby asked Emmy.

Unable to make up her mind, Emmy shrugged.

“Two waffle cones,” Libby decided.

“Chocolate sauce?” the lady asked with her head stuck under the glass counter top scooping out the chocolate ice cream.

Libby turned to Emmy.

Emmy shook her head. Chocolate sauce reminded her of the dessert she shared with Maya.

“No thanks.”

Emmy gave Libby the money for hers, and went outside to sit in the shade of a candy striped pink umbrella. The people entranced her, bustling by with their arms loaded with bags and parcels from the markets.

Libby came out of the shop and handed an ice cream to Emmy, pulling up another chair. “See, Mercy Falls isn’t so bad is it?”

“I didn’t think it was bad. It’s just -” Emmy licked her ice cream. “It’s good to have you with me when I’m out and about.”

“You know when we’re older we can live down here in one of those flats above the square there.”

With new interest, Emmy looked at the pale green rendered walls with small blue railed balconies and white crossed windows overlooking the square. “It’d be noisy.”

“We’d get used to it.”

“People everywhere, all the time.”

“It’d be great. Our friends could move in next door and we could have parties any time we want. I’ve been thinking all we really need is a couple of part time jobs. I don’t think I could stand working nine to five and I know you couldn’t.”

“I might be able to.”

“Emmy, it’d be the same thing every day.”

“You’re right, I couldn’t. Not every day.”

“We could have a whole bookshelf of our favourite books, not that there’d be much time to read.”

“I’ll always find time to read.”

Libby sighed and sat back in her chair. “You’d be the only one I could live with, Em. It wouldn’t matter what happened out there, who was bitching about whom or who was more perfect. We would always have each other to come home to.”

“What about being burgled?”

“We won’t get robbed,” Libby laughed. “We won’t have anything worth stealing at first.”

“People would think we’d have to have money if we lived in a place like that.”

“No we wouldn’t. It’d all go on rent.”

“Would you really want to live there?”

“We’ve got to move down from the mountain someday.”

“Yeah?”

High pitched squeals, clicking heels and slapping thongs startled Emmy. Libby jumped out of her seat in time to greet a swarm of girls with hugs and kisses. Iron chairs scraped across the cement and were set in a circle around their table.

Emmy nudged her chair back, a little too far. The circle closed in front of her leaving only a small space for her legs. It was hard to know where to look or who to look at. The girls were talking all at once.

She looked across at Libby, but Libby’s face had changed. It glowed as she clutched her chest and squealed, “I didn’t think I’d be seeing you all today.”

“You’re the one who told us you had
other plans.”

“We thought you had a guy lined up.”

“Yeah, not letting us in on the big secret.”

A couple of the girls glanced at Emmy with a smug grin. “But we were wrong.”

Emmy dropped her gaze to the dry splotch of strawberry ice cream underneath Libby’s chair. Her friend was so far away, across the other side of the group.

“If I had a guy, he wouldn’t be much of a secret around here now would he?” Libby retorted.

“Are you bringing him to your sisters’ party on the weekend?”

Libby rolled her eyes
. “Oh my God, there’s no guy.” She beckoned to Emmy. “Shift your chair in, Em.”

The two girls either side of Emmy moved back,
and one of them helped Emmy guide her chair in so she was a part of the circle. A couple of the girls checked her out as though they’d only just noticed her.

It was stimulation overload. Emmy failed to see the fun in any of it.

“Hey Emmy, are you going to the party?” one of them asked.

“Yeah,” Libby said
. “Course she is.”

Emmy cleared her throat. “What party?”

“Matti and Cass. Remember? Their eighteenth.”

“I thought it was just you and me going.”

A couple of the girls snickered across the circle, their hands covering their mouths in a ridiculous effort to appear discreet.

“Two people at a party? Some party,” Emmy heard someone say to the side of her. She tried to catch who it was, but couldn’t be sure.

“At an eighteenth?” came a muffled reply from the opposite side of the circle.

“I didn’t mean that,” she said, looking to Libby. “You know what I mean.”

“Who’s up for ice cream?” The red haired girl bounced out of her chair and rummaged in her shoulder bag. Emmy remembered her from the day at the river. She stood out. Teagan.

One of the dark
-headed girls beside Emmy leant forward and took a slurp off Libby’s cone.

“Yuck
, you bitch,” Libby squealed.

Teagan rolled her eyes, and said, “Not necessary, Gert,” as she hooked her arm through Libby’s and lifted her up
. “Come and I’ll get you another one.”

“You can get me another one too if you’re throwing your money around,” the dark
-haired girl, Gertie, said as she swiped her tongue over the top of the ice cream.

“No way. Not after that. You’re gross. Who swipes ice cream?”

“Bitch.”

“Cow.”

“Slut.”

Emmy sat there stunned. Both of the girls laughed. Gertie, the one who’d slobbered all over Libby’s ice cream
, smiled as she enjoyed the rest of it.

Most of the group followed Libby and the red
-haired girl, Teagan, inside. Emmy wished they’d all gone and left her in peace. Gertie and another girl with short hair stayed behind. She was left alone sandwiched between them.

“So, Em,” the girl with no name said, stretching her arm around the back of Emmy’s chair.

“Em. Em. Em. Em,” Gertie said, yawning. “We have a favour to ask.”

“Well, Libby does, but she said that you’re way too straight to even go for it.”

“She said that you don’t know what it is to truly have a good time.”

“What do you mean?” Emmy said, looking at the girl with the remains of Libby’s ice cream dripping down her wrist. She seemed to be taking the lead.

“At the party, you know. Let go. Fit in with everyone. Be a bit friendly.”

“Do us girls a favour.”

“I don’t know if I’m going to the party.”

“No, no, no. I think you’ll want to come when you hear what we have to say.”

The girls nodded at each other, as though they knew something big.

“Some girls in this group are a bit jealous of your little friendship with Lib. We’re not here to mention any names or anything. We don’t want to stir up trouble. Now we know you’ve known her a long time and really it seems you’re closer to her than any of us.”

Emmy nodded, dumb, not quite sure what they meant or whether she should even agree with them in the first place.

“We want you to come to the party so we can offer you some protection. You know, make sure you stay friends with Libby for a long time.”

“Not only that, we want to show these girls that you’re worth having around. We don’t want things to be hard on Libby or make her choose between you and us. We want the group to get past this, to stay together. See?”

“We have a plan.”

“A plan?” Emmy mumbled.

“Well- If you come to the party bringing a supply of the one thing none of us can get our hands on in this small minded town, we’ll all look sophisticated.”

“Bring what?”

Gertie crunched on the cone, chewed and swallowed enough to speak. “Wine. We want you to bring some wine.”

“A bottle?”

“A box of bottles.”

“Yeah?”

Then the girl with no name snorted, sat back and slapped Gertie’s leg
. “She’s not going for it. See? I told you.”

“Settle down. Give her time to think. She loves Libby. She’ll do anything for her.”

Emmy lifted her hand, wanting them to stop talking as though she wasn’t there. “So the girls are saying stuff about me to Libby?”

“Some. Not all. But they’re getting through to her. She’s listening to them.”

“If I bring some bottles-”

“A box,” Gertie corrected.

“A box of bottles, then the girls will stop trying to badmouth me to Libby.”

“They’ll love you. They’ll love you because they’ll be around all these eighteen year old guys drinking wine that doesn’t come in a cask. You know- make us look sophisticated.”

With a stiff nod, Emmy said, “You won’t get drunk and sick all over the place?”

The girls exchanged glances and rolled their eyes
. “Sophisticated,” they said in unison.

Sophisticated? Sophisticated?
Emmy made a mental note to look that up when she went home. Maybe it meant something different to what she thought.

*

Sebastian returned to the market stall with a newspaper tucked under his arm. He sat back on the deck chair, pulled up his sleeves and opened to the sports section as though he read it every day. The rest of the paper was left discarded at his feet.

Emmy joined him. She needed a break from being on the front line serving all those people, fielding questions and pretending not to see the stares. It was either getting better or she was caring less about who gawked the longest. Maybe people were used to seeing them there. She hoped it was slowly sinking in there really wasn’t that much to look at or wonder about
, though she doubted it. It was highly likely most in town still thought they were weird. She reached down for some pages and settled in beside him. Her mother cringed. But Emmy ignored her and flipped through some more headlines.

Whaling Boats Attacked by Angry Protestors…Tsunami Fears Heightened…Children Kidnapped in Bitter Custody Dispute – Bodies found in Submerged Car…Home Invasions Leave Suburb in Fear… Three Dead in Drive-by Shooting…Police Officer Shot on Duty…Internet Bank Fraud…Girls get the love drug…

Emmy was conscious of her mother pacing behind the stall, fiddling with the baked goods in between serving customers. When she crouched down in front of her, Emmy looked up.

“I have protected you for so long. I can’t watch you fill your brain with all this horror. I’ve been trying to be open to it and supportive. But I don’t think I can.”

“It’s reality, Mum.”

“No. It’s unbalanced reality. The papers skim over the good stuff that happens in the world and tell you all about the bad stuff. It’s full of stories about people on their worst day.”

“Or the good stuff happens after the bad. People survive and move on with life, maybe,” Sebastian offered. “It’s just that no one seems to write about it.”

“Because that’s supposed to be boring. Good news doesn’t sell.” Ingrid swive
lled on her heel, and looked at them. “I don’t like you filling your minds with this negativity.”

“Mum, it
’s information I’m going to need if I’m going to keep myself safe in this world with all those people,” Emmy argued. “Remember what Maya said.”

Her mother stood and patted Emmy’s knee. When she went to help the next customer, Emmy flicked the paper open again.

“She only notices what we do when Kristian isn’t around,” Sebastian said quietly.

“It’s not like that.”

“It is.”

Death by Firing Squad-Fate for Drug Trafficking….Innocent or Guilty…Hospital Beds at all-time Low…Gang Warfare Heats Racial Debate…Grandmother Bashed, left Homeless by Son…Medical Cause linked to Depression…P
aedophile Extradited from Brazil – Victims Speak Out

Chapter Twenty Six

Since the rain, the sandstone cellar walls drizzled with rivulets that disappeared into crevices. The uneven stone floor was perpetually damp, but never totally wet. Emmy flicked the light switch and pushed the iron door closed behind her. The air felt thick, as though a breeze hadn’t blown through the room in a long time. She struggled to breathe.

Taking the steps one at a time, she paused at the bottom. With a shrug, she tried not to think about what she was there to do. Treading lightly, she read the labels on the wine racks where date and quality were recorded. Kristian had a system only he understood.

Once she picked the first bottle off the shelf, it was easier to take more. The first four bottles were stowed in a spare wooden crate when she heard the door creak open and close. She stepped back and hid in a space between the racks. She squeezed her eyes tight, cursing her luck. She hadn’t thought about what she’d say if she was caught.

Footsteps shuffled on the stairs and stopped.

“Is anyone in here?” Sebastian whispered, sounding uncertain.

The light flicked off.

It was so dark Emmy couldn’t see the wine rack her nose was pressed against. It was disorienting. Light headed, she felt as though the earth buckled under her feet. The walls seemed to close in and retreat.

A torch light cast a glow over the stone walls and slipped into the aisle nearby. Sweat beaded across her top lip. She heard the sound of scraping stone and glass chinking against crystal. The room went quiet.

It took a moment to collect her thoughts and consider her options. “Sebastian?” she said eventually, sliding out into the aisle and stepping around the corner to face him.

Caught with a half
empty glass of red wine and bottle at his side, he sat upright, his eyebrows arched. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“We’re not allowed down here.”

“No one needs to know.”

“Is this the first time you’ve done this?”

Sebastian shook his head. “You?”

She nodded
. “Do you think Kristian will notice?”

“He grabs the odd bottle from time to time. My guess is he won’t miss one or two.”

“Are you feeling okay?”

Sebastian looked at her, silence falling between them as he seemed to be weighing his answer. “Nope. Are things okay with you?”

“Not the best.”

“I just need some time alone,” Sebastian said, his voice sounding forced.

“I won’t be down here again,” Emmy said. “This is the first and last time for me. I hope.”

Sebastian finished the wine in his glass and poured some more. Emmy knew he was watching her fill the crate. She felt stiff and began to grip each bottle with both hands for fear they’d slip through her shaky fingers. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him take greedy gulps of wine.

The crate was heavy. She took a couple of bottles out and managed to lift it.

“I’ll be back and we’ll talk,” she said to him.

Sebastian shook his head. “No. I said I need some time on my own.”

She took one long look at him.

He gave her a sarcastic grin.

“Do you want the light on?” she called back from the top of the stairs.

Sebastian clicked the torchlight off. “Nope.”

She pressed the crate against the door frame and fumbled for the handle in the darkness.

“Don’t worry about getting caught. Their bedroom door is locked again,” Sebastian said.

“Oh
.” Emmy paused. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come back?”

“Positive.”

She flicked off the light.

*

Out of the cellar and into the dusk, Emmy hauled the crate towards the giggles in the nearby scrub.

“Take it,” she said to the girls gathered around to count the bottles. “I don’t want to see any of them again.”

“But you’ve got to come to the party, Emmy. Libby will wonder why you aren’t there if you don’t come,” one of her conspirators said.

“Go and get dressed,” another instructed.

Emmy looked down at her emerald green velvet pants and purple paisley blouse. “I am dressed.”

“Oh so you are,” one said, followed by more giggling from the others. “Excuse us.”

The girl who wasn’t helping with the crate hooked her arm in Emmy’s. “So let’s all head in there together. Libby is expecting you.”

*

“Happy Birthday to you,

Happy Birthday to you,

Happy Birthday Matilda and Cassidy,

Happy Birthday to you.”

“Hip, Hip!”

“Hooray
!”

“Hip, Hip
!”

“Hooray
!”

At the sound of the singing, couples who had paired up made their way back to the crowd from the outer edges of the paddock. Having hooked up with older guys, some of Libby’s friends were among them, stumbling in high heels on the uneven ground, empty wine glass
es in their hands.

Sophistication,
Emmy thought. She stood on her own, not feeling a part of anything but unable to pull away from the celebrations.

“Psst, Emmy
.”

Emmy spun around but no one was behind her.

“Em. I’m here.”

She spotted the bulging mat on the trampoline. Someone peered over the springs at her.

“It’s me, Em. Libby. Who else do you think would be calling out to you?”

Good point
, Emmy thought. She took one last look at the twins holding a knife over the cake while making their wish and strolled over to the trampoline. Hauling herself over the springs, she bounced into position beside Libby. Together, they gazed up at the sky.

A group of drunk guys started singing
Happy Birthday
all over again, opera style. 

“Are you having a good time?” Libby asked.

Emmy cleared her throat. “You?”

“I asked first.”

“This is the first conversation I’ve had since I arrived.”

“Well, I’m glad it was with me,” Libby said, stroking Emmy’s arm. “If we lie here very still, we could get away with not making contact with anyone for the rest of the night.”

“How come you aren’t having a good time? All your friends are here. Boys and everything. And all that good wine.”

“Yes, I’ve seen the wine, Em.”

A pause settled between them. The wine didn’t need a label for Libby to know it was Kristian’s.

“My friends are out to get what they can from any guy they can and they’re bragging about it. I’ve had this guy- he’s a friend of Matilda’s actually– he’s been after me since New Year’s she told me tonight.”

“Is it that guy from the river that day? The one that made you go all funny.”

“Funny?” Libby asked, cocking her head to the side as though she had to recall it. She let her façade crumble and confessed, “Yep. That one. I can’t shake him off. He’s trying hard.”

“You don’t like him?”

Libby shrugged. “He’s
eighteen.” She paused, and cleared her throat. “I don’t know if he wants me for a one night thing or if he wants the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing. They all say he’s a nice guy. Well, Matilda says he is.”

“Can you talk to him?”

“He likes to talk but with his arms all around me, you know. Not just sitting and talking. I think we should be able to do that. Sit and talk without touching.”

“I can do that with Sebastian.”

“Sebastian is so much younger.” Libby laughed. “And the poor thing has no idea how cool he could be.”

“I’m not quite sure what you mean– could be cool.”

Libby patted her hand. “Don’t think about it too much. He’s growing up and getting interesting is all I’m going to say.”

The whole thought that Sebastian could be appealing in the eyes of others disturbed Emmy enough to change the subject
. “So what’s this guy’s name?”

“Oh yeah, Jed. His name’s Jed.”

“Maybe you need time. If he really likes you he’ll wait for you.”

“I don’t think Jed’s the type to wait. I’ve seen the way Sebastian is with you. He adores you. That’s why he waits. Though he does seem to be getting itchy feet lately, I must say. Jed’s different. But I can’t work out why.”

Emmy thought of all the times she’d seen Sebastian with Libby. “I don’t think Sebastian would be that good at waiting if he had other girls to choose from.”

“Believe me
, he could have other girls. My friends wanted him to come. I invited him.”

“Really? He didn’t say anything.” Emmy wanted to change the focus back to Jed, “What does your gut say about Jed?”

“I think it’s nice having a guy interested in me. It makes Matilda and Cassidy and all the girls look at me differently– I’m just like them.”

“When you don’t feel anything like them, not really.”

“I don’t know if I am or not, Em.”

“You’re not like them when you’re with me.”

Libby threw her hair back and laughed. “The girls want me to go to the back paddock with him.”

“I can’t imagine you going off into the bushes with a stranger
as they’ve been doing all night.”

“Well, thanks to your wine, they can all wake up tomorrow and blame it on the alcohol.”

Emmy covered her face with her hands and moaned.

Screaming surrounded them from all sides of the trampoline. A pile of girls tumbled onto the mat, banging heads and laughing, jostling the two of them apart. Emmy squeezed her way to the edge of the sagging mat. There was a mass of tangled arms and legs. She couldn’t tell who was who or how many were there.

“Sh. Sh,” one of the girls said, quieting everyone down. She wasn’t familiar to Emmy. But she was wearing a heap of make-up and Emmy knew that could change the appearance of someone. “Guess who’s here?”

Before anyone could answer, Libby sat up and Emmy pulled herself to sit beside her.

“Sebastian,” the girl with the make-up said.

Emmy scanned the crowd. She spotted Sebastian immediately, walking unsteadily to those gathered around the cake cutting ceremony.

“He doesn’t tell me anything anymore,” Emmy muttered under her breath. But nobody heard her. She slipped off the trampoline.

*

Emmy found Mrs Bexley in the kitchen, red faced and sweaty. She was wearing cow patterned oven mitts, pulling trays of sausage rolls and pasties out of the oven.

“Need some help?” Emmy asked.

Mrs Bexley handed her some tongs and nodded towards the platters. “Load em up.”

Emmy transferred the food while Mrs Bexley prepared to reheat trays of tiny quiches
in the oven.

“Are they behaving themselves out there? Everyone staying where we can see them?”

“I don’t know about that.”

“I thought as much. I don’t know how I was talked into this.”

Emmy pointed to another lot of quiches cooling on the rack.

“Yes
dear, they’re vegetarian.”

Emmy nodded and half smiled, popping a cold one into her mouth.

“Now. Take note Em, the sausage rolls are meat.”

“I know what your idea of a sausage is now. Ours were always different. I’ve had a strange life, haven’t I?”

“No, you haven’t, dear. It’s your life and you’ve lived it beautifully.”

Emmy thought about that. She let the words roll around in her mind until they found a place to settle. “There’s something not quite right about it anymore.”

“You’ve been through so much with Maya. It’s a massive loss. Something like that rattles you to your core. It’s been tough for you all.”

Emmy shook her head, trying to free her mind from the last image she had of Maya. She was in bed, dead. Of all her memories, she hated that it was what popped in her mind most. At home, Maya was everywhere, in everything she looked at. The happy
memories kept Maya alive within her. But outside the gates, where Maya rarely went, the image of her death was what sat with her most. Sometimes the good memories hurt, if she thought about them in the way she would never have them again. But the worst memory punched nails through her heart every time.  And a party surrounded by strangers was not the place to let the agony show.

Emmy could feel tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. With her hands occupied with tongs and food, she rubbed each eye on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry Em. I shouldn’t have brought it up right now. Bad timing.”

She smiled at her friend
’s mum, and nodded, laughing a little, “Yeah. Bad timing. But there’s no avoiding it, right?”

“Right. We all do the best we can, don’t we. I think of you and your family and what you must be going through all the time.”

Emmy pushed the platter back and pulled a chair out from the table. She flopped over the table top. It was nice sitting with Mrs Bexley. With a little effort, she could block out the frenzy of voices and party music. It would just be the two of them. “You know what I realise after being here tonight?”