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I lean against the bars that separate us from the others. “So let me get this right,” I say to one of the Townie girls. “All it takes is to insult someone’s mother?”
“No,” she explains. “That’s the beauty of it. They don’t actually have to insult. The words Your mother are enough.”
“So if I said to you, ‘Your mother is a…?’” I shrug.
“Just ‘Your mother.’” But it doesn’t work if girls say it to each other,” she continues. “You have to have a penis for it to affect you in such a way.”
“Oh fu
The bonding with the Townie girls is a highlight. I spend my first hour of incarceration in conversation with one of them—who happens to be the girlfriend of one of the Mullet Brothers—about the myths around eyebrow piercing. When I have the courage, I ask her the burning question about why the Mullets but I’m short of breath and I can recognise the tell-tale signs of an asthma attack coming on, so I have to go and sit down and don’t get to hear the answer.
The first lot of parents come in at around five P.M., including the House master of Murray House, so within half an hour the cell next door is empty and it’s just Griggs, Santangelo, and me. They put me in the cell next door on my own and we get to order takeaway for di
“You promised us a negotiation about the Club House,” Santangelo says, still eyeing Jonah Griggs, but speaking to me.
“Negotiations are over,” I say flatly.
“You can’t do that.”
“Any which way, we’ve got the Club House and you can’t stop us from getting there,” Jonah Griggs says arrogantly.
“Watch me.”
“If we make a deal over the Club House, it will be profitable for all of us,” Santangelo says.
“Come within an inch of our property…”
“And what?” Jonah Griggs calls over to me.
“Unfortunately the state persists in using our school as a juvie centre when it suits them. We have arsonists.”
“So you’ll burn us down?” he says, feigning fear.
“No, but we will burn down every single building you own on our property. Begi
Now I have their attention.
Raffaela is allowed to see me based on the fact that she knows how to sweet-talk Santangelo’s father, who I find out is her godfather.
“We’ve called Mr. Palmer but he’s at some Rotary Club do and Mr. Grace from Murray House says he’s not authorised to bail you out so we have to wait until Sal—sorry, Constable Santangelo,” she says, looking up at him and smiling, “speaks to Mr. Palmer…which could be after midnight.”
“Where’s Ben?” I ask.
“I think I saw him go after the Mullet Brothers.”
“As if he can take on the Mullet Brothers. Is he insane? Find him, Raffaela. He could be hurt.”
“I’m staying with my parents tonight so he can bunk at my place.”
I hear the sound of heavy boots enter the station and the next minute Jonah Griggs jumps to his feet saluting, a shocked look on his face. Santangelo mocks the salute behind his back.
“Hey!” his father bellows, and Santangelo sits back down, sulking.
I strain my neck to see what has surprised Jonah Griggs so much and my heart begins racing wildly.
It’s the first time I’ve seen the Brigadier this close since he delivered me back to Ha
“I don’t think it will kill you if you stay the night,” he says to Griggs in a tone that isn’t open for negotiation.
I don’t know how it is that a voice I’ve only heard once can stay in my mind, but it’s as recognisable to me as Ha
I see a flicker of shittiness on Jonah Griggs’s face but he holds the salute. “Yes, sir.”
“You, too,” Santangelo’s dad says, pointing at his son. Santangelo swears under his breath.
“Sorry, what was that?” his father asks loudly.
“Nothing,” Santangelo mutters.
And then the Brigadier is looking at me and I hold his stare, despite the fact that a part of me feels sick. He looks younger than I’ve remembered him to be all this time. Younger than Santangelo’s dad, anyway.
“Do you want me to take her back to the school?” he asks Santangelo’s dad.
“No!” I almost yell.
Santangelo’s dad shakes his head. “John Palmer’s coming down soon. She’ll be fine.”
The Brigadier continues to hold my stare, like he’s taking in every detail of me and it seems like a million years later that he turns to go.
“I hear you’re going to be sticking around for a couple of weeks,” Santangelo’s dad says to him as they both leave. Only then does Jonah Griggs relax.
“Since when do real army brigadiers run the Cadets?” Santangelo asks.
“They don’t.”
I can tell that Griggs is confused about the Brigadier’s presence. He looks at me and I walk over to the other side of my cell, settling myself as far away as possible from both of them.
Gaol’s not that bad, especially when you’re used to crap food at school and you get Thai takeaway.
“How’s Ha
“You know Ha
“Since she was your age.”
I shrug. “She’s away.”
The phone rings and the other police officer comes in holding it.
“It’s Clara,” he tells Santangelo’s dad. “She wants to talk to Chaz.” Santangelo takes the phone through the bars and Jonah Griggs snickers and makes himself comfortable on the bunk while Santangelo tries to speak as quietly as possible.
“Hi…look…I know…Yeah, like I did it on purpose, Mum…. Okay…you’re what? Don’t go to their place…. She’s a liar…. She only pretends to be that sweet in front of…Oh, good, believe her over your son…. No. He’s being an a-hole…. I didn’t say “arse,” you did…. Fine, take his side….”
He hands the phone to his father. “She said not to forget to pick up the bread.” He sulks.
By ten o’clock I make a pact with myself that I will never commit a crime because gaol is the most boring place on earth. Even more boring than the Jellicoe School on a Sunday afternoon. It’s so boring that when Santangelo comes over to my side of the cell, I welcome the conversation.
“Chewy?”
I reach over and take a stick. Up close he is truly a good-looking guy and I’m curious about the Raffaela co
“Spit it out,” I say.
“Spit what out?”
“Whatever you want to say.”
He’s about to deny it, but then he seems to change his mind. “The guy…the Hermit? My dad used to take me out there sometimes, to see how he was going.”
I move closer. No one at the Jellicoe School has ever mentioned the Hermit. Their way of dealing with it has always been to pretend it never happened.
“You knew him?”
He nods. “He was a bit mad. Like obsessive compulsive, you know. He’d stand on a tree branch and dive into the river in the same spot all the time and just let the current take him away. I thought he’d die doing that, not…”
We don’t say anything for a while.
“Do you remember much about that day?” he asks.
Only that when I woke up I was in Ha
I don’t answer. “What did your dad say?” I ask instead.