Sticks and Stones Read online

  And there he was, his face suspended above hers. Staring at her with a soft wonderment that penetrated deep within. Both of their bodies poised, just for a second, dancing along the edges of orgasm. Then she arched, straining, her breasts pressing themselves against his chest before he began to move once more. Slowly at first, but then faster. Her groin melting into a miasma of love and lust that made them as one.

  Maddie pressed her fingertips against her eyes, hard, and then let go. Enjoying the pain that came with a kaleidoscope of iridescence. She ran a hand gently over her chin while she stared at her eyes in the mirror. To her they seemed wounded, yet adept at subterfuge. She shook her head, almost irritated, and then dressed in tracksuit pants and a T-shirt before leaving the bathroom just as the phone rang. Her heart instantly clenched.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Mattie? Everything okay? Have you heard from the kids?’

  Maddie swallowed a sigh at the sound of her sister’s voice. ‘No, nothing new.’

  ‘But you took the day off?’

  ‘Yes, it seemed like a good idea. Gives me time to think.’

  ‘Good, good. Now listen, I just thought I’d let you know that I’ve got Nicholas coming over here tonight. I mean, he’s not in family law but at least he’ll know something. It’s a start.’

  ‘That’s great, Hannah. Thanks.’

  ‘And I was thinking that you really should come down here too. So we can have a sort of round-table discussion with him. Discuss options.’

  Maddie felt instantly horrified at the thought. ‘I can’t. Sorry. I mean, I’d really like to but I’ve got a meeting first thing tomorrow that I can’t miss. Otherwise definitely, I’d be there.’

  ‘Oh.’ Hannah sounded disappointed. ‘Oh well, can’t be helped. I’ll find out what I can and speak to you tomorrow. But listen, one other thing, where did you hear about recovery orders?’

  ‘Recovery orders? Oh, someone mentioned them. At work. Why?’

  ‘Because thank god Jake never knew about them, that’s all I can say.’ Hannah spoke rapidly, officiously. ‘I looked them up online, and as far as I can gather they’re not common but he could have applied for one when you didn’t show for the original parenting order hearing, six years ago. Which means the court might make an order the children be returned and then authorise the Australian Federal Police to locate them. And after a period of time they can even issue a –’

  ‘Warrant,’ interjected Maddie flatly.

  ‘That’s right. I’d never even heard of these. Mattie, you could have been arrested, thrown in jail. This could have been serious, real serious.’

  ‘As opposed to the light-hearted frolic it is now?’

  ‘You know what I mean,’ replied Hannah, sounding irritated. ‘It could have been worse. And if he’d known about these, it absolutely would have been worse.’

  ‘Yes. You’re right.’ Maddie closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. ‘Look, thanks so much Hannah, and if you could pass on anything you find out, that’d be great. Really appreciated.’

  ‘No problem.’

  Maddie put the phone down, feeling cold. All these years when she thought her greatest danger was from Jake, she could have also had the federal police on her tail. So why, then, hadn’t he applied for one of these recovery orders? No doubt she would have been found a lot earlier, and her punishment would have been severe. Perhaps the kids would have been handed over without the need for any further legal action at all. On the surface it seemed like the recovery order would have been a tactical masterstroke for him. Checkmate, without having to barely move a piece. So why on earth had he chosen not to?

  Maddie sat down on the edge of the couch as she ran through a series of scenarios in her mind. Discarding the ones that hadn’t eventuated or that made no sense, until she was left with only one explanation – that, unbelievable as it seemed, he hadn’t wanted to see her punished. Could that be true? Or did she just want it, desperately, to be true? That maybe he felt some responsibility for the situation that had eventuated. The thought brought with it a rush of warmth and wonder. Because that decision, made six years earlier, had huge ramifications, not just in terms of what had already gone, but for what was about to pass. Surely having taken the high road once, Jake would be inclined to do so again. Which meant that perhaps, after he had spent some time with the kids and had a chance to calm down and accept the situation, they would be able to come to some type of compromise. A workable solution that was good for everyone – including, this time, Jake himself.

  ∗

  The rest of the day passed slowly, limping along in a way that it hadn’t for years. Maddie spent most of the afternoon in the garden, planting and pruning and feeling soothed by the way the rich, dark earth crumbled between her fingers. The phone lay by her side, but didn’t ring. Afterwards, she made herself coffee and a toasted cheese sandwich and lay on the couch with Guess sprawled half across her lap while she read through the collection of newspapers on the coffee table. The television murmured in the background; a medical drama followed by a cooking show featuring a rather flamboyant chef. Once more, the phone lay mute beside her.

  Dusk had started to shade the windows by the time she finished and Maddie debated over ringing Sam herself. Eventually deciding against it because that might seem smothering, and rather greedy, given the circumstances. She didn’t want to offend more than she already had, not if there was to be any chance of them working this out. So instead she sat down at the computer and, after reciting the motivational saying twice, turned it on and began systematically cleaning out her inbox, deleting all but the bare essentials. While she was doing this, an email dropped in from Kim.

  Hey there, just got home from work and thought I’d send a quick email to ask – is everything okay? You sounded really short on the phone last night and quite unlike you. Is it something I’ve done? Or is it something else? If you want to talk, you know where I am.

  Love, Kim

  Maddie read the email through twice, feeling an oddly congruent mix of guilt and irritation. She tapped her fingers lightly across the keys, without actually typing, but the phone rang before she could decide how best to answer. Maddie grabbed it up.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Hey Mum. How’re you?’

  ‘Sam.’ Maddie closed her eyes briefly. ‘How are things? What’s happening?’

  ‘Not much. But everything’s cool.’

  Maddie frowned as she tried to decipher his tone. ‘Really?’

  ‘Really.’ Sam sounded almost surprised. ‘We went to town today. To the docklands and around there. Had lunch at some Asian joint. Good food.’

  ‘Oh. Okay. How’s your sister?’

  ‘She’s good. Too scared to speak to you though.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Maddie, stunned.

  ‘Because she thinks you’ll blame her for everything. Listen, Mum?’

  Maddie was still trying to make sense of his earlier statement. ‘Yes? What?’

  ‘I think he’s changed.’ Sam spoke slowly, giving each word extra gravitas. ‘He’s different.’

  Maddie stared at the wall, where the lengthening shadows were washing the cream a cloudy grey. She swallowed, and tried to find some words.

  ‘Mum? Did you hear me? I’m not just saying that, you know. I was watching him all day and . . . well, he’s different.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘Um, I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. Calmer, I suppose. Nicer.’

  ‘Oh. That’s good.’

  ‘Yeah. Same as last night. Like I would’ve thought he’d be going on about what a cow you were. No offence. But he’s hardly mentioned you. And when Ashley started bitching about not getting cable, he actually stood up for you!’

  ‘Really? What did he say?’

  ‘Whatever, I can’t remember. But . . . well, you see what I mean? And he’s so happy to see us! He keeps looking at us all the time like he can’t believe we’re really here.’

  Maddie f
linched as guilt lanced through the bubble of hope that had been building within. She tried to think of a reply to this, but there simply wasn’t one.

  ‘So you don’t need to worry, Mum.’

  ‘Okay,’ Maddie nodded. ‘Okay. And you’ll still be back in a day or so?’

  ‘Well, maybe a little after. Coz we’re gonna go visit Gran and all that lot. You don’t mind?’

  ‘What? No. Of course not.’

  ‘And I’ll ring you again tomorrow. Same time, same place!’

  ‘Okay.’

  The phone went dead against her ear, with a hollow flatness that spoke of absence much clearer than mere silence. Maddie listened intently for a moment, and then put it slowly down by the keyboard. He’s changed, Mum. Different. She stared at the computer screen and then suddenly reached down and logged out. Her inbox disappeared immediately, to be replaced by a set of three icons, each with one of their names. Maddie double-clicked on Ashley’s and then tapped her fingers thoughtfully as a password box formed. A year ago this would not have been here or, even if it had, Maddie would have known the answer.

  She tried variations of Ashley’s name, past and present, and addresses and friends. She stared at the wall again for a while and then her eyes widened and she reached forward to spell out Jake. Feeling almost relieved when that didn’t work either. After a few more tries, Maddie got up and walked down to her daughter’s room for inspiration. Tigger watched her beadily as she flicked through the bookcase and opened a few drawers, but there was only the usual paraphernalia of an almost-teen. On the wall were two posters of the Twilight cast. Maddie gazed at them for a moment and then hurried back to the computer.

  Edward. No. Bella. No. Jacob. Bullseye. She grinned as Ashley’s inbox swam onto the screen with a neat array of folders on the side. Maddie glanced quickly down the list until she came to one titled simply ‘D’. She selected it and immediately the screen filled with a neat list of emails, each sent from JH. Jake Hampton. Maddie took a deep, bottom of the lungs breath and clicked on the first one.

  Jake confirmed you as a friend on Facebook.

  Hello there Ashley, and thanks so much for offering to be my friend. I need all the friends I can get because I’m having a competition with my nephew Sam (that’s his picture over at the side) about who can get the most friends by Christmas! But I’m also really pleased about you being my friend because I have a daughter who is exactly your age and who I haven’t seen for a really long time. Her name is Courtney. So it’s nice to imagine that nowadays she might sound just like you!

  Cheers, Jake

  To view Jake’s profile or write on his wall, follow this link:

  http://www.facebook.com/n/?profile.php&id=235643112G753c8912b

  Thanks,

  The Facebook Team

  Maddie stared at the message, feeling a surge of anger that she fought to control. She herself had helped Ashley choose the photo that adorned her Facebook page: a crowded one of her and some friends about to leave for a fancy-dress party. Clowns and heavily made-up fairies and one vampire with tomato sauce smeared across both cheeks. There had been no clue there, none at all. But she knew enough about Facebook to realise this email meant that Ashley had actually searched for her father, then reached out to add him as a friend. Putting them all at risk. She clicked on the next message.

  Hey again Ashley. Yes, I miss my daughter a lot. It’s especially hard on her birthday, knowing that another whole year has gone past. Very hard. Apart from anything else, I’ve now got all these presents piled up waiting for her! Glad to hear you got picked for the tennis team at school, have you been playing tennis long? And how funny that you have a brother called Sam, same as my nephew. Do you have any other brothers and sisters?

  Cheers, Jake

  Her anger faded as quickly as it had risen, replaced by dull, shadowy sadness that all this gone on without her knowledge. That Ashley had even felt the need to connect with her father, despite the risks, no doubt believing that the situation was under perfect control and that she could maintain her anonymity. Not realising that she never had a chance. She scrolled through about ten messages, all very much the same. A casual, light chattiness, with just a dash of mawkish stoicism, artfully folded around a couple of little hooks. Each one drawing Ashley in closer, so the tone of the emails became ever friendlier, and more knowledgeable. At around the three week mark, they stopped being Facebook messages and became straight emails to each other that Ashley had saved in the same folder. Shortly afterwards, Jake had struck.

  Hi there. I’ve been reading and reading your last email and I’m going to say something I probably shouldn’t. Because maybe it’ll affect our friendship and I’d hate that. But I can’t not say it either. It’d eat me up inside. You see, I always thought that even though it’s been six years since I last saw Courtney, I’d still have a sort of connection with her. Because we were so close. And I feel like I’ve got that connection with you. There’s something there that’s telling me what I hardly believe could be true – that you’re Courtney. Now if you are, please don’t worry about upsetting your mother or anything. We can just keep on talking with each other by email for as long as you like. No pressure. And it’s not like I know where you live or anything. If you’re not Courtney, and I’ve made a mistake, then I apologise. But I just had to take the risk. Will you take one too?

  Maddie read this email through twice, and then once more. Will you take one too? She knew instinctively that Jake had taken no risk here; he would have already known by now that he was corresponding with his daughter. Had probably known from the first or second message. All the risk had been Ashley’s, and by association hers and Sam’s as well. She rubbed her eyes tiredly and then clicked open the very last email, dated last Friday.

  Hey pumpkin. Glad to hear that the weather has finally cleared, just in time for your fete on Sunday. One whole week of rain must have nearly drowned you all! But have fun and have a ride for me. Do you still like getting your face painted? Or have you outgrown that too? What are you planning for the school holidays?

  Love Dad.

  Maddie read through the email again, and it was like finding a letter from an old friend, or hearing their voice echo around the corner, when even the act of missing them had been packed away years before. And oddly, given that she would not have chosen for any of this to happen, there was a shaft of jealousy that all this friendliness, this warm camaraderie, was for Ashley alone. Never, not now, for her. She stared at the email until her eyes began to blur, then she wiped them roughly and dragged her concentration back to the logistics of the matter. And it was clearly the weather that had done it, that and the fete. Check and mate. The email address would have already told him that they were in Australia, and the school holiday dates narrowed it down from there. Then all it took was an unusual amount of rain and a school fete to seal the deal. Maddie pictured him sitting in the study at home, ringing each secondary school on his list and asking whether they were hosting a fete this coming Sunday. Until bingo. Then it was just a case of coming along and staying in the background. Following them home.

  And suddenly there was the sound of a key scrabbling in the lock. She jerked her head around to stare at the door, instantly frozen by terror, her heart a hugely swollen pulse within her chest. Hypnotised by the doorknob as it began to turn.

  Maddie rubbed her arms, hard. She suspected, now, that he hadn’t meant to be seen at the fete. So much better to simply get an address, then wait for the next day so he could divide and conquer. That was his style. But, oh, how hard must it have been for him on Sunday night, in some hotel, finally knowing where they were but having to wait until the next day. She allowed herself a wry grin and then glanced back at the list of emails to check the date of the first. Four and a half weeks. That was all it had taken him to go from casual Facebook friend to having an address. She felt an odd sense of admiration.

  But Maddie also felt relieved that Ashley hadn’t actually told him where they were. While e
very email, every question and answer, every nuance, felt like a personal wound, none of them were an actual stab in the back. Instead she was quite sure that Ashley had thought everything was under control. The stupidity of youth. Whereas her father, even from the Facebook page which had been probably set up years before, had been patiently spinning his web. And once the fly had landed there had been no escape.

  SIX

  ‘My sister reckons it’s the sharing I can’t handle.’ The woman shifted her considerable bulk in the plastic chair. ‘Like she keeps going on about how I never could share well, not even as a kid, and so that’s the main problem.’

  Maddie smiled sympathetically. Protocol required her to refer any clients who needed counselling to trained professionals, but she knew that women like this, who really just wanted a sounding-board, would fall through the cracks while still on the waiting list. Instead she let her talk, nodding every so often and offering some general advice.

  ‘But that’s crap. Seriously. Because I quite like it when he’s got the kids. It gives me a break, you know? She’s just trying to put it all back on me. That’s her style.’

  ‘And it’s a problem for you?’

  ‘Nah, not really.’ The woman grinned, her plump face creasing. Then she sighed. ‘Her I can handle. It’s this shared care crap I can’t. And I reckon he’s only doing it for the money. Doesn’t have to pay any maintenance then, you know. And he gets half my family allowance.’

  ‘But . . . is he good to them when he has them? The kids?’

  The women stared past Maddie’s shoulder for a moment while she considered this question. ‘Look, he loves them. No doubt about that. He’d never hit them or nothing. No way. But he’s a selfish bugger, so if he wants to do something else, he just does it. Drops them off wherever or leaves them at his place with a bucket of KFC to keep them happy. Huh! I can’t afford bloody KFC.’ She frowned crossly, as if this was salt in her wounds. ‘And they’re proper little buggers too, when they come back home. Tired and grumpy, and one minute all over me like a rash, the next giving me lip like you wouldn’t believe.’