Rosalind’s imaginary world is a masterpiece. Rodney and Maggie’s passion is like a fragrance that wafts from the stage. Inner-city Sydney characters act as the chorus commentating on the doomed fate of the mismatched lovers. The Capulet parents are revered wine critics, judgmental and aloof. The Montague father is a wealthy white-collar criminal, the mother a high-class escort. The inner-city school is the scene for Ricky and his friends to bemoan their predictable middle-class futures. Jasmine’s loft is her refuge from the obligation of her family’s social position. The balcony scene is played out at a train station, the glamorous ball is the launch of a new wine. It is chaotic and perfect. Rodney is dazzling to watch. Gone is his shy, awkward stance; he is frenetic and bold against Maggie’s measured calm. Her words perfectly cut-glass prose, his lines passionate and tumbling, as they hurtle towards their inevitable doom.
My nerves jangle and I’m breathless as I watch their tragic demise in a blood-filled spa bath. I’m so wound up that I push out of my seat just as the clapping begins.
I desperately need to get outside so I mumble to Felix, ‘Got to go to the bathroom. I’ll see you later,’ and rush to the exit before he can reply.
Outside, I keep my hands on my hips and my eyes on the stars. I breathe, trying to pull the air into my lungs and simultaneously pull myself together, curbing the raging flood inside.
Rodney lied to me.
He said they’d never acted on their feelings. Never saw each other outside of school.
The possibility that he is the killer, that he smashed her perfect face, held his hands around her throat and watched her die, is making me crazy. Felix suspected him from the start. Maybe he was right all along.
Inside the curtain call is ending and I feel the rumble of seats lifting, excited talking, as the crowd prepares to pour outside.
I dart to the side of the hall near the boys’ change rooms. I can hear whoops and yells. The cast is already in there. Sticking my head through the door, I am hit with the musky scent of young men.
‘Hey!’ I yell.
One of the boys who was in the chorus looks at me with his eyebrows raised.
‘Get Rodney Mason for me. Now.’
He hesitates and then nods.
I step outside and wait.
Rodney appears, slick with sweat and make-up. He’s still high. He grins when he sees me. ‘Did you like it?’
‘Rodney, you lied to me.’
His face wobbles, unsure. ‘What?’
‘You lied to me. You were seeing her. I know you were.’
He steps towards me and for a minute I think he will hit me, and then suddenly he is running away from me into the night.
Chapter Seventy-six
Saturday, 2 January, 10.09 pm
Ruby Callister sticks her chest out a little without being too obvious. She feels dowdy in her plain black gear compared to all of the performers, especially now that it’s over and she has emerged from the darkness of backstage. She brushes away some cat hairs from the arms of her turtleneck. It has been such a difficult few weeks. Deciding to run the play again was the right thing to do but stressful as well. And without Ms Ryan, Maggie Archer has sort of taken over, which is okay but kind of maddening. She is no Ms Ryan, that’s for sure. Ruby looks at Maggie now, accepting praise as if she’s just won an Oscar. She remembers what Ms Ryan said: ‘If you’re going to go far in stage production, Ruby, you need to manage how you feel about the stars. That will be a big part of your success.’
Ruby knows she was right. Anyway, it’s all over now and she can start to focus on life after Smithson. She scans the crowd for her mum and dad. They are here somewhere, probably talking to someone they know.
As she’s looking for her parents, Ruby notices a short, pretty woman in a red dress standing in the shadows near the boys’ change rooms. It is one of the detectives working Ms Ryan’s case. Rodney Mason appears, still in his stage make-up and costume, and talks to her briefly. Then he takes off and the woman detective runs after him.
Weird, thinks Ruby. She spots her mum, who is waving at her with unnecessary excitement, her eyes wide. Ruby gives her a small wave back and starts to make her way over, just as another woman breaks away from the crowd and runs off in the same direction as Rodney and the detective in the red dress have gone.
Chapter Seventy-seven
Saturday, 2 January, 10.11 pm
I can’t see Rodney in the blackness in front of me as I run after him towards the lake. The air is hot and sticky but the smell of rain catches in my nostrils. Another storm is coming. The darkness pools around my body and part of me wishes it would carry me away. Drag me under until I’m just floating in space. I hold my arms out and push past it. Rodney’s footsteps pound on the dirt and from the sound I think he is still on the main path a few metres ahead.
‘Rodney! Stop!’ My words come out in halves; I’m running too fast and the heat swallows them up.
The lake is to my left as I break around the bend and I catch a shimmer of water in the faint moonlight. I follow the steady beat of his stride, ducking thin branches that reach out across the path. Stones roll beneath my shoes and I land heavily on my left ankle, pain shooting up my leg. I run on. Rodney’s shadowy form appears briefly ahead of me on a bend and cuts to the right. I know that he is going to the tower. I knew the moment we left the school. Fear rises into my mouth and the déjà vu almost breaks me in two. The same feeling that I used to get from my dream about Jacob washes through me and I see his broken body fresh in my mind’s eye. Vomit surges up from my stomach and I swallow it down and keep running.
‘Rodney! Please. No.’ I’m nearly crying. But now it’s Jacob running away from me, not Rodney. The moon strobes white light as I pass through a thick patch of trees. I picture Jacob bringing a rock hard down against her skull. See Rodney’s hands around her neck, catch the madness in his eyes. A sob breaks from my throat as I gulp in the warm night. ‘Please stop,’ I huff through tears.
His feet hit the wooden base of the tower, his footsteps turning into a sharp staccato as he starts up the stairs. I can’t follow him there and yet my right foot is on the first step and my left is moving to the second. I lock my jaw and shut it all out. Focus on my legs, on climbing. Higher. Higher. I round the first level and glance down to where the moon reaches out across the water, making a white path across the lake. This is it, I suppose. Of course it all ends here.
I slow as I come to the top level. A sharp stitch stings my side. Rodney’s breathing tells me he is in the corner behind me and I turn and step backwards to face him.
‘Rodney, please. Talk to me.’
The shadows make it look as if parts of his face are missing. A shake of his head and he is all Jacob. He is crying, his smooth face slick with tears. ‘I didn’t do it,’ he whispers.