The Dark Lake

He reddens deeply as if he’s been caught stealing. ‘In drama class we all called her that. She said that everyone is an equal on the stage.’

‘She was still your teacher though, right? So you weren’t really equals. And you’re not an adult yet,’ presses Felix.

‘Almost.’

‘January fifteenth. I checked.’ Felix squares his shoulders and tips his head to look Rodney in the eye.

Rodney’s mouth opens as if he is about to say something but then he quickly snaps it shut.

‘Rodney,’ I say, ‘you are still technically a child, so if Ms Ryan was making you do anything or spending time with you outside of school, that would be wrong. She had a responsibility to you. You understand that, right? You’re not in trouble but we still need to know.’

He looks down again, then says, ‘I already told the other cops. We didn’t do anything.’

‘What happened to your basketball game?’ says Felix.

‘Huh?’

‘You were going to play basketball on the Saturday morning after the opening night. Did it get cancelled?’

‘Ah, no. It wasn’t a game. I was just going to meet some guys to train but it was hot so I decided not to go.’

‘So you went to Jamie’s party instead,’ I say, realising perhaps for the first time just how much I don’t want Rodney to have anything to do with this.

‘Yeah.’

‘Have fun?’

‘It was okay. I was tired—you know, from the play—but yeah, it was okay.’

‘And you walked there on your own?’ I say.

‘Yeah. I got separated from everyone after the play. Mum had already left and I had, um, some beer in my bag, so I took the back streets and drank one on the way.’ He looks at Donna but she doesn’t flinch.

‘What time did you get there?’

‘Maybe around eleven?’

‘Okay,’ says Felix, with doubt in his voice. ‘And what time did you leave?’

‘Dunno. Maybe two?’

‘How’d you get home?’ I ask.

He shoots another quick look. ‘I walked.’

‘Cut through the lake?’

A quick glance at me and then back at his hands. ‘No, that wouldn’t make sense. I came along Drummond right to the end of our street. Came home and went to bed. I was pretty wrecked.’

‘Are we almost done here? As I’ve already said to the other officers, I can certainly confirm that Rodney was home just after two. I heard him come in. He’s told you what he knows and he really needs to keep practising.’

The three of us ignore Donna as a light smatter of rain sprinkles across my bare arm. I suspect it’s unlikely that Rodney will practise basketball in the rain anyway.

‘Did you ever fight with Ms Ryan, Rodney?’ I ask. ‘Maybe you wanted her to do something and she wouldn’t? Or maybe you disagreed about the play?’

‘No.’ He looks at me, almost pleading. ‘Nothing like that.’ The droplets fall more heavily, splashing onto the table and joining together, forming small pools. ‘I don’t know who killed her.’ His eyes are bloodshot. The exhausted stare of someone with a broken heart. Of someone who isn’t sure if the future is worth striving for anymore. ‘Really, I have no idea. The play was great that night, it went so well. I think she was really happy.’ He clears his throat, which I suspect is a tactic to avoid crying. I can see the telltale shake of his lips.

He’s upset, that much is clear, but I can’t tell if guilt is mixed with his pain or if it’s just pure, simple grief. Or fear from being caught. I look at him and hope again that he really didn’t have anything to do with it. A gumnut falls from the sky and lands on his clenched hand. He yanks it back from the table and rubs at his knuckle.

We get up.

‘Okay, well, thank you for your time,’ Felix says. ‘We may need to speak to you again but we’ll give you a call if we do. Good luck with the rehearsals. We’re looking forward to seeing it, aren’t we, Woodstock?’

I nod; I want to hold out my hand to Rodney. To pull him close and tell him that I understand.

‘I’ll walk you out,’ says Donna briskly, wiping her hands on her thighs as if she is wearing an apron.

We make our way back up the wooden stairs as the rain pours down. Donna’s thin hair is curling already, small ringlets forming at the base of her pathetic ponytail. I pull mine back, thick and frizzy, bunching it together in my hands. Behind us Rodney is playing basketball again. The sound of the ball hitting the wet concrete is like a hand smacking against bare skin.





Chapter Forty


Monday, 21 December, 6.06 pm

I’m late to pick up Ben. I had sort of known that this would happen, but Scott needed to work back because the rain had messed around his building schedule and he asked me if I’d be able to get Ben tonight and, thanks to my performance at the party on Saturday, I hardly felt like I could say no. I slunk out of a meeting and raced to my car, threw it into drive, then wove impatiently through the end-of-day traffic up to Martha, the small suburb in the hills where Ben’s day care is. Cloud Hill for Children is a standard plastic fortress on a half-acre block around the back of Martha’s primary school. It balances the garish worn plastic with a small chicken coop and a vegetable garden, both of which look rather half-hearted, though I’m sure the children don’t notice. Ben has been going there since he was three months old and seems to like it well enough. I park sloppily and jump out of the car. It’s after 6 pm and the centre is incredibly strict about the pick-up cut-off time, but there haven’t been any calls to my mobile so I figure they can’t be too concerned yet.

I burst into the main entrance. An older woman I don’t recognise is doing paperwork at the desk and looks up at me, surprised.

She calmly takes her glasses off but is wary. ‘Hello?’

‘Hi. Sorry I’m late. I’m here to pick up Ben. Ben Harper.’

There is a slight furrow in her brow. ‘Um, okay. Just wait here, please. I’ll be back in a moment.’

The centre is absolutely silent. It feels exactly like our house does when Ben isn’t there. Hollow. Gentle panic stirs in my gut. Maybe Ben is outside.

Madeleine Phillips, the centre director, walks into the room with a warm but worried smile.

‘Hi, Gemma. Haven’t seen you for ages. How are you?’

‘Where’s Ben?’ I say, my voice wavering.

‘Here, why don’t you take a seat.’

I let her guide me to a chair and I sit, but my muscles are on alert and my eyes bore into hers. ‘Where is he?’

‘Now, Gemma, I’m sure everything is fine, but I just checked the logbook and it seems that Ben’s grandma picked him up today. Maybe you had crossed wires about who was doing what?’

‘Ben’s grandma?’

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