Intruder Page 12
To prove the point, Herc lay as if stunned at my feet. He didn’t move. Not when I gave up on the massage. Not even when Nance and Miss Cocoapuff said their goodbyes and hurried off to catch the five o’clock news.
Long into the golden glow of the late afternoon, while I played randomly generated opponents in Hanging with Friends on my iPhone, Herc lay there, inert.
However it had happened, regardless of what ill-intentioned machinations of the evil witch had gotten us to this point, it was becoming increasingly clear to me that Herc and I were meant for each other.
I didn’t care if it was inertia that kept him by my side. All that mattered was that he stayed there. Because without him, I really was on my own.
Twenty-One
Herc got his mojo back the instant we hit the house, making a mad dash for the lasagne Jimmy had left cooling on the stove.
I shooed him away and cut a hefty slab, then helped myself to some salad while Herc moaned at my feet.
‘Forget it, you’re not having my lasagne.’ I pushed my plate a safe distance away. ‘You get the good stuff, remember? The fifteen-dollar dog food with the beet pulp for firmer stools.’ I grabbed a container of dried pellets from the pantry and tipped some into his bowl. Herc took one look at the tragic contents of his dinner and slumped onto the floor.
‘What’s the matter with the dog?’ Jimmy padded into the kitchen, pulling a t-shirt over his still-dripping hair. ‘It looks as if he’s about to burst into tears.’
‘Herc doesn’t want firmer stools. He wants your lasagne.’
Jimmy snorted, pulling his suspenders up and over his shoulders. Must be swing dancing in the Valley tonight. ‘He’s a dog. Let him eat dog food. You want some dressing on that salad?’
I shook my head, feeling a sudden pang for Herc and his hopeless plight.
While Jimmy rummaged in the bottom of the fridge for a lemon, I hacked a big forkful of lasagne from the baking dish and mixed it in with the dog food. By the time Jimmy emerged from the crisper, Herc had already swan-dived into the bowl, inhaling any incriminating evidence.
‘See, he was just trying it on,’ he said, squeezing lemon onto his salad. ‘Dogs eat their own vomit. You don’t need to waste lasagne on them.’
I ruffled Herc’s ears as I passed him. Tonight, we’d eat lasagne. Tomorrow, we could work on those stools.
I settled on the couch and flicked on the television.
‘Edie’s been working a lot of nights lately,’ Jimmy called from the kitchen.
I turned up the TV, hoping he’d get the hint.
‘She says her body clock’s keeping her up till all hours,’ he said, raising his voice over the sound of Homer choking Bart on The Simpsons. ‘So she doesn’t mind keeping an eye on things here while I’m at work.’
He snuck a look my way, but I concentrated on my dinner, refusing to be drawn on the subject.
‘She’s not your enemy, Kat.’
I nearly choked on my lasagne.
‘STOP DEFENDING HER.’ I spun round and glared at him. ‘She stole my clothes. She stole our house key. She sneaks in here when you’re not home, when I’m asleep, for Pete’s sake. She’s using that prowler as an excuse to worm her way back into our lives. She’s as bad as he is. Why can’t you see that? What’s wrong with you?’
I expected him to retaliate. Instead he walked into the lounge room, muted the TV and crouched down in front of me.
‘Katty, she didn’t steal anything,’ Jimmy said firmly. ‘Your mum gave her that key. And I offered her those old clothes when she told me she was getting you a dog for your birthday.’
I pulled away from him. ‘Why would she do that? I hate dogs. Everyone knows that. Even she knows that, and I don’t have anything to do with her –’
‘You don’t have anything to do with anyone anymore, Katty. It’s like you’ve cut yourself off from the world. Edie was worried about you. We both were. She said you needed a dog. Something to love. Something to plug you back into real life, to stop you from being so lonely.’
I pushed him away, appetite gone, my plate falling into his hands as I stood.
‘I’m not –’ I sucked in a breath, trying not to choke on the word ‘– lonely.’ I glared at my dad crouched by my feet. ‘I’m just sick of people always . . .’
Always what? Letting me down? Dumping me? Leaving me?
‘I don’t need this, okay? I just don’t need any of it. I’m fine on my own.’
Clicking my fingers for Herc, I stalked from the room, his claws click-clacking reassuringly on the floorboards behind me.
Jimmy’s words trailed after me. Down the corridor, through the front door and out into the gathering dusk.
Lonely.
Herc nosed the back of my knee. Eyes warm and willing, tail swishing behind him.
‘C’mon,’ I said, reaching for his lead. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
The streetlights had switched on automatically, glowing yellow in the early evening. The smell of jasmine hung pungent and heavy in the still air. The street was deserted; the only sound the distant drone of traffic from Enoggera Road.
I turned right out of habit, and walked without thinking, head down. Unable to get the word out of my head.
Lonely.
Was that how Jimmy saw me? What happened to self-reliant? Keeping ourselves to ourselves? And who was he to judge anyway? He never had friends round. Never went anywhere except for work. But then, maybe he had friends there. Maybe that’s why he liked it so much . . .
Was that how other people saw me? Was that why kind-hearted Nance took me under her wing today? Feeding me slice, because she felt sorry for me?
Oh God, was that why Al befriended me in the dog park? Because he pitied me?
Herc scurried along at my side, casting anxious looks my way.
I stumbled on a crack in the pavement and caught myself from falling. The night had slipped in under my guard; it was almost too dark to see.
We’d passed beyond the reach of the streetlights and were heading towards the footbridge across Enoggera Creek. During the day it was filled with flapping ducks and squealing toddlers tossing breadcrumbs to beady-eyed turtles the size of dinner plates. Now, shadows swallowed the path as it snaked away from the light and dipped down towards the liquid black of the creek.
Without realising it, I had retraced my steps to the dog park. The creek had sunk into darkness, the park an inky presence at its back. Beyond that lay Al’s house.
My heart thudded in my chest. I’d run away from Jimmy, only to end up at Al’s.
Something rustled in the reeds and a furtive splash made me start. Herc strained at his lead and fear jolted through me.
‘Bit spooky down here, boy,’ I muttered, pulling him back towards the comfort of the well-lit path. ‘How about we head –’
A figure lurched towards us, limned by the streetlamps behind him. The jerky marionette walk identified him even before I recognised the shape slinking along at his heels.
It was Hoodie Guy and his dog. Blocking the way home.
I reacted instinctively, spinning round and hurrying down towards the murky blackness of the footbridge. Herc trotted close at my side, glancing back at the figures behind us.
‘It’s okay, boy,’ I murmured, trying to convince myself more than him. ‘Everything’s going to be fine.’
I steeled myself. Don’t let Hoodie Guy think that you’re scared.
I looked over my shoulder. His shadow rounded the bend first; the disjointed gait, lurching and sinister. His dog growled low in his throat and an icy sweat crawled down my spine.
Don’t let them sense your fear.
I plunged on into the darkness, risking another backwards glance.
My heartbeat ratcheted up a notch.
Hoodie Guy was gaining on me. His dog grunted
and hauled at the leash, straining to close the gap between us.
‘C’mon, Herc!’ I cried, no longer caring what Hoodie Guy thought.
We broke into a run, galloping out of the creek, towards the welcoming glow of the streetlights ahead. Across the grass, stumbling and slipping in the soft mulch of the garden beds lining the road. Shooting like an arrow towards the only sanctuary I knew, throwing myself at the gate, rattling it on its hinges and shrieking Al’s name. Jabbing at the security panel and buzzer, babbling into the intercom.
A hand grabbed my shoulder and I screamed.
Something clicked. The gate gave way and I fell.
Twenty-Two
I hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of my lungs.
Herc whined, nosing my hair away from my face. I’d fallen onto the pavers in the front yard when the gate had swung inwards. A sweaty hand grabbed at my elbow and I flinched, heart racing. I scrambled away from the figure crouched over me and the barking dog held on a short leash at his side.
‘Kat, what the hell are you playing at? You nearly gave me a heart attack.’
Al’s breath came in short hard rasps, his naked chest slick with sweat after his run. He turned away abruptly, more angry than concerned, and unclipped Sequoia’s lead. She threw herself at Herc before both dogs ran off together.
I pushed myself into sitting position, the combination of fear, pain and embarrassment making me snap. ‘Hoodie Guy was after me. I wouldn’t have come here otherwise!’
Al’s face closed over and he leaned back against the gate, clicking it shut behind him. ‘Nice to see you too, Kat.’
‘I didn’t mean – look, I’m sorry, okay? I just . . . forget it.’ I levered myself up, groaning, and pushed past him to the gate. ‘How do you open this stupid thing?’
Al reached over and released the catch. ‘A pleasure as always, Kat. Thanks for dropping by.’
I ignored the sarcasm and peered out. ‘Did you see him? Is he gone?’
He frowned. ‘Are you sure you didn’t hit your head when you fell? I didn’t see anyone. Except you, running up from the creek.’
‘That means he’s still out there . . .’ Like a troll blocking the bridge.
Silently, we both peered out towards the black void of the creek . . . jumping when an exasperated voice rang out behind us.
‘Alexander, are you going to ask your friend in? Or are you going to stand in that gateway until the buzzer drives me insane.’
It was Al’s mum, tapping her fingers on the verandah rail. It couldn’t be anyone else. Al looked as if he’d budded off the side of her. They were both tall and lean, raven-haired and dark-eyed, with those ridiculous spidered lashes. She was beautiful, I realised with a pang. Why did Al’s mum have to be beautiful?
The next thought struck with a crushing intensity. I’d shrieked like a banshee into the intercom. She must think I’m a psycho. And she was a psychiatrist, so she’d know one when she saw one.
‘Hello, Mrs Armitage,’ I said awkwardly. ‘Uh, sorry about the noise.’
Al let out an irritated breath. ‘Mum, this is Kat. The one I told you about.’
My eyebrows shot up. What had he told her?
He stared back at me coolly, not giving anything away.
‘Oh, your friend from the dog park. Lovely to meet you, Kat. I’m so happy that Alexander’s made a friend in the neighbourhood.’
I shook her hand, sneaking a grateful look Al’s way. Even angry, he hadn’t betrayed my confidence.
His mum’s fingers were cool in my sweaty grasp. ‘Call me Helen,’ she said, then bent down and clapped her hands for the dogs. ‘And who, pray tell, is this handsome fellow?’
‘Uh, that’s Hercules,’ I said as he waddled up to greet her. ‘He’s my dog.’
Al raised a sardonic eyebrow at the admission.
I flushed but held his gaze. It was the first time I had publicly claimed Herc. Saying the words out loud made them real. Like taking a vow. Or casting a spell. Words had power; they could never be unsaid. It was official. Herc was mine. And a fierce pulse of pleasure thudded in my chest at the thought.
‘Hercules – I like that.’ Mrs Armitage rose smoothly and smiled. ‘We don’t often get heroes from Greek legends or distressed damsels falling into our yard. You’d better come in while we sort this all out.’
Al and I exchanged a doubtful glance. Things were already weird enough between us. Especially with him standing there steaming, wearing nothing but running shoes and an old pair of Canterburys. We didn’t need his mum thrown into the mix.
‘Thanks, but I’m fine,’ I said quickly. ‘I just got a bit freaked out in the dark. I should get home. My dad’s expecting me.’
She frowned at my arm. ‘But you’re bleeding. Let me clean that up at least, and drive you –’
‘No, really. My house is just round the corner . . .’ I stopped. What was I saying? I didn’t want to walk home by myself. Hoodie Guy could be lying in wait on that unlit path . . . ‘But, uh, maybe Al could come with me,’ I blurted out. ‘It’s not very far.’
Al snorted, without any humour. ‘Sure, the last resort when you’re desperate. That’s me, right, Kat?’
I coloured. He couldn’t have been more wrong. He was the first person I’d run to. ‘Look, it’s okay, I’ll just go –’
‘No, Alexander will be happy to escort you home,’ his mum cut in, eyeing us both speculatively. ‘As soon as I’ve found something to take care of that elbow. Wait here, I’ll only be a minute.’ She turned and slipped back into the house, leaving Al and me alone in the sheltering dark.
Thick rivulets of blood ran down my arm and circled my wrist. My elbow throbbed, making the backs of my eyes prickle.
I felt like such a fool, running screaming to Al after driving him away. I was sorry we’d fought, but didn’t know how to tell him.
He stepped in close and reached behind me, sliding a hand into the back pocket of my cut-offs. A salty heat rose off his skin. His breath against my hair feathered a tingle down my spine. I took a sharp breath and looked up at him, his face just inches from mine.
Al’s eyes held mine for a moment, shuttered and unrevealing. Then he stepped back, gently grasped my arm and turned my elbow towards him. He pressed a chequered handkerchief against the graze and held it there, firm and unyielding.
My heart fluttered in my chest. ‘That’s Herc’s hankie,’ I murmured, unnerved by Al’s nearness and silence, unsure which was worse. ‘Is it safe to mix dog slobber into an open wound?’
He said nothing. Just checked to see if the pressure had stemmed the bleeding, then mopped at the run-off on my arm and wrist. He stepped back at the sound of footsteps behind us. His mum passed us each a glass of water, then got to work with sterile wipes and a bandaid.
While his mum doctored me, I sipped my water, surreptitiously eyeing Al, who stood aloof at her side. His gaze stayed on Herc and Sequoia as they panted on the ground beside us.
He was probably wondering why he’d bothered befriending me in the first place. Asking himself if I was worth the trouble. I couldn’t blame him. I was asking myself the same question.
‘What was it that rattled you, Kat?’ his mum asked, drying my elbow before applying the bandaid. ‘You sounded pretty panicked when you were pressing our buzzer.’
I flushed at the concern in her voice. ‘It was nothing,’ I lied. ‘Just a bit creepy crossing that bridge in the dark. I thought I heard something in the creek and got spooked. Sorry, you probably think I’m an idiot –’
I broke off as a faint cry echoed in the distance.
Al pushed open the gate and peered out into the darkness. His mother and I trailed after him. Then I heard it again. My name was being called from the other side of the park. Getting louder as someone headed our way.
‘That’s my dad. I’d better go.’ I sn
apped my fingers for Herc. ‘Thanks for the first aid, Mrs Armitage.’
‘Helen,’ she murmured, frowning. ‘Al will walk you over to your father.’
We both answered at once:
‘Mum, she doesn’t want –’
‘Really, I don’t need –’
Al and I had shut each other down, echoing the same sentiment. He thought that I didn’t want him. That I didn’t need him. Which hurt. Because I was beginning to suspect that he was wrong on both counts.
Jimmy’s voice rang out from the creek with an urgency that scared me. ‘Kat! Where are you?’
‘Hang on,’ I yelled, pulling Herc after me. Then quickly, before I could chicken out, I grabbed Al’s hand. ‘I’m sorry, okay? For being such a –’
‘KAT!’
‘I’m coming!’ I squeezed Al’s hand, then turned and fled. Back across the street, into the deep pool of shadow that swallowed the park, towards the wavering light that had emerged from the creek. Towards Jimmy and his torch and the shaky promise of a haven from the monsters that skulked in the dark.
He grabbed my shoulders and hugged me, then started shouting. ‘What the hell did you think you were doing disappearing like that!’ Herc growled a warning, hackles standing to attention. His unexpected transformation shocked both Jimmy and me into silence.
Herc shifted uncomfortably under our scrutiny. Eye contact freaked him out at the best of times. He looked away, wagged his tail in apology, then collapsed in the puddle of torchlight at our feet, chewing at his claws like a baby sucking his thumb.
‘Don’t you ever run off like that again.’ Jimmy’s voice rasped as he rubbed a hand across his face. ‘I didn’t even know you’d gone until I went to say goodbye –’ He broke off, not wanting to state the obvious: I’d made him late for work.
I hung my head. We were both struggling with the widening gulf between us, but I didn’t know how to bridge it. He had no words of comfort to offer, either. The silence stretched until there was nothing for us but to turn back home.