Set In Stone Page 27

  Piper sniffled and buried her head in her arms, leaning on the nurses’ station. Lou just patted her back for a couple of minutes while she settled. Eventually, she said quietly, ‘You’ll be home soon, honey, and that’s going to make everything feel so much better. It always does.’ She resisted the temptation to cross her fingers.

  Piper looked up from the cradle of her arms. Her beautiful face was red and streaked with tears. ‘I’m worried,’ she whispered, wiping her nose on her sleeve like a little girl. ‘I’m worried I’ve got bad judgement.’

  Lou laughed. ‘Oh honey, you haven’t got bad judgement, not at all.’ How could she even think it? She was so mature for her years; she did so much, around the property, and in her family. She knew what she wanted from life already, and she wasn’t going to muck around with school or anything else that stood in the way of her achieving it. Lou thought about herself at seventeen.

  Lou had been mature too, in some ways, because of the responsibilities she’d had. But she hadn’t had an ounce of this girl’s emotional intelligence. Or her strong sense of self, and her place in the world. Lou supposed that had been forged in Piper by growing up in a place she had known as home, with a father and grandfather who adored her and put her first. Piper had always known where she belonged and what she wanted, and that had to be part of the reason she had such an incredible clarity of vision.

  Piper looked hard into Lou’s eyes. ‘I really like your mum, Lou, but I don’t want to be like her.’

  ‘That’s what you’re worried about?’ Lou’s stomach did flip-flops as she took in the girl’s distress.

  ‘All I ever wanted was to be like my dad,’ she said softly. ‘So strong and so clever. And now here I am, behaving just like a stupid girl.’

  ‘Don’t say that,’ Lou admonished, taking Piper by the shoulders and shaking her lightly. ‘Just don’t say it. Your father …’ She searched for the right words, her heart and brain filled up with Gage. ‘Your father thinks you are the most wonderful, brilliant girl in the whole world.’

  Piper sniffed. ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Because I see it every time he looks at you,’ Lou said, squeezing Piper’s shoulders where she had shaken them a moment before, trying to convey the full force of how much she meant it. ‘You mustn’t even think about the Skye thing. That was different. She’s different.’

  Piper grabbed Lou’s hands from her shoulders and squeezed them. ‘Tell me,’ she said, and her face was twisted with pain and confusion. ‘Tell me what happened with your mum.’

  Everything in Lou rejected the idea. ‘No, honey,’ she said, drawing away from the girl slightly, but trying not to let it show. ‘It’s all ancient history now. It doesn’t matter.’

  Piper stuck her chin out in such a Gage-like way it stole Lou’s breath. ‘It matters to you,’ she said, in a typical display of logic. ‘It’s not ancient history to you.’

  ‘No,’ Lou agreed. ‘It’s not. But it’s really my business, Piper. Mine and Skye’s.’ She sighed and ran her hands through her hair. ‘And anyway.’ She tried to smile. ‘It’s such a long story.’

  ‘We have time,’ Piper said.

  Lou only shrugged, feeling the weight of her past sitting heavily in her gut, like she always did whenever she thought about it. Which was every day.

  Piper looked at Lou from under her lashes. ‘I know some things,’ she said, daring Lou to talk. ‘I know you had a little sister. And I know she died.’

  She wasn’t trying to be cruel, Lou knew that, but even hearing the words spoken out loud was like needles in her skin. It was some wicked Pandora’s box that, if opened too far, Lou was afraid, deeply afraid, it might swallow her up and never spit her out again.

  ‘And I know you left, right after, and you never came back,’ Piper went on. There was a note of confusion in her voice; like she was asking why Lou would do something like that to her mother. ‘And I know you’ve never been to the grave.’

  That was too much. The floodgate broke and red hot rage escaped into Lou’s veins. How dare Skye? How dare she tell Piper only some parts of the story, the parts that made Lou seem even worse, even guiltier, than she actually was? Skye had painted herself as the martyred saint.

  ‘That’s not how it was,’ Lou bit out, trying hard to convey to Piper that she was not angry with her, but fighting so hard to keep a lid on all the feelings that she wasn’t sure she succeeded.

  ‘No?’ Piper said innocently, but Lou knew she just wanted her to talk.

  ‘Why?’ Lou said, her voice small, and her self-control at breaking point. ‘Why do you want to know? It’s not your story, it’s not your history. It has nothing to do with you.’

  ‘But it does,’ Piper protested, shuffling closer to Lou. ‘It has everything to do with me, because it’s somehow caught up with you and my dad, but I can’t work out how. I know it’s about Skye, but I know it’s about you two too.’ Piper stared into the distance, like she was looking for the right way to explain it. ‘Gage …’ She stopped herself. ‘My dad is the best. He always has been. But I’ve always known there was something missing in him.’ She paused, that thoughtful look on her face again. ‘That there was a part of him that was sad.’ She fiddled with a long piece of hair as she pieced it together. ‘I used to think it was because my mum left when she did. That he had a broken heart or something.’ She frowned. ‘And I kind of resented it, honestly. I mean, it didn’t seem right, or his style, to be pining after someone who’d abandoned us like that.’ Piper’s voice grew smaller. ‘Abandoned me, when I was just a few days old.’ She flicked the troublesome piece of hair behind her shoulder and went on. ‘But as I got older, I knew it wasn’t about her. Grandpa said a few things.’

  Lou was simultaneously horrified and fascinated. ‘About me?’

  Piper nodded. ‘About you and Gage.’

  Lou wanted to say, Like what, like what, like what? but it didn’t seem right. She needed to shut this conversation down, not open it up with her questions. It would not be fair to anyone for her to tell Piper about that night. The story wasn’t Lou’s alone.

  ‘You know,’ Piper said, staring hard at Lou in that disconcertingly grown-up way she had. ‘After you came here, and I met you, I really liked you. And it made it harder to understand. You didn’t just run out on Skye; you ran out on my dad too. And I couldn’t work out why.’ She paused. ‘There’s only one thing that makes sense to me, and some of the things I’ve heard made me wonder.’ She paused again, a little longer this time, and her face was white as Lou watched her compose the courage to ask.

  ‘Did you kill her?’ Piper asked, squaring her chin. ‘Did you kill your little sister?’

  The room started to spin and Lou gripped the table hard. ‘No,’ she gasped, trying to stop herself falling into the memories.

  And then it was too late. She was back there, wrapped in the pain, and the memories were dragging her under. It was the dream, at the grave’s edge, but so much worse. So much more real and brutal.

  And capable of destroying her.

  It was graduation night. Lou spun gently in front of the spotty old full-length mirror Skye kept in her room. The dress was simple, but it was the most perfect and grown-up thing Lou had ever worn, and she couldn’t get enough of looking at herself in it. If she turned around enough times, she thought she might almost believe that this Cinderella moment could end happily, with her in the arms of a handsome prince and everyone living happily ever after.

  But there was bugger all chance of that. No matter how lovely her hair looked pinned in the simple French twist Skye had fashioned, no matter how elegantly the red of the classic cocktail dress set off her pale skin and dark hair.

  ‘Like Snow White,’ Skye whispered, coming up behind Lou and putting her arms around her. Skye was in hot pink tights and an electric blue minidress, her long blonde hair pulled to the side in a ponytail. She looked normal. Well, most mothers Lou knew weren’t quite as captivatingly beautiful as Skye, but at least tonight Sk
ye looked like she had her shit together – a rare event.

  Lou wanted to believe her mother’s words. Maybe she could go after all; maybe it would be alright. She knew he would look for her there. She knew tonight, if she went, the tension that had been bubbling and building between them was bound to come to some kind of head. If she went. As the thought settled, a small hand tugged on the hem of her dress.

  ‘Yu Yu,’ the little voice squealed as Lou took hold of the chubby hand and pulled her up, not caring if a jam-smeared hand marked the beautiful dress. She could never resist Hannah.

  ‘Hey, baby girl.’ Lou smiled, spinning her around so she could see herself in the mirror too. ‘Do you like it?’

  ‘You yook yike a pwincess,’ the three-and-a-half-year-old declared adoringly, looking up into Lou’s eyes. ‘Going to a ball.’

  ‘She sure does,’ Skye said, tears gathering in her eyes.

  Lou felt like she was in the Twilight Zone, her mum coming across all Carol Brady. But she knew as she held the soft little body that she couldn’t go out tonight. The event would go on too long, and it would be too late. Skye had been unpredictable lately. She seemed fine now, but …

  ‘Tell you what,’ Lou said, placing Hannah down on her mother’s bed. ‘Why don’t we dress you up as well and we can have a game of princesses?’

  Hannah squealed and clapped her hands. Then her face fell. ‘But Yu Yu’s going to the ball?’

  ‘Nah,’ Lou said, working hard to act like she really meant the big smile she was showing Hannah. ‘Balls are boring. I’d rather hang with you. Anyway, it’s not really a ball, just a graduation party.’

  Hannah’s still-babyish face dimpled in confusion. ‘Gwadu …?’

  ‘Graduation,’ Lou articulated carefully. ‘It’s when you finish high school and move on to the next thing. University, or a job, or whatever.’ She leaned in to Hannah. ‘Some people think it’s kind of a big deal.’

  ‘It’s a big deal for your big sister,’ Skye chirruped, skipping around the two of them. ‘She was the very best in her class. She could do anything – go to any university, do any course she likes. They all want her.’ She patted Lou lightly on the top of her hair.

  Lou tried hard not to feel resentful that her mother was so excited by her results now, after years of doing very little to help as Lou worked her arse off.

  But Hannah was singular in focus. ‘Yu Yu go away?’ Her bottom lip trembled. ‘To uni … ver …?’

  Lou scooped her up off the bed and feathered kisses on her face. ‘Oh no, no, no, baby girl,’ she crooned against her hair. ‘No way! I’m staying right here with you. I found a course I can do right here.’ She paused, trying to work out how to explain external study to a three-and-a-half-year-old. ‘Sort of. Anyway, point is, I don’t want to leave Stone Mountain and I definitely don’t want to leave you.’

  Skye raised an eyebrow at Lou.

  ‘Or Mummy,’ Lou added hastily.

  It was true. Lou never wanted to leave Stone Mountain, not if it meant leaving Hannah, and maybe not even then. She couldn’t imagine living anywhere so beautiful, anywhere where the mountains kissed the sky. She might not be able to paint it, like Sharni, but she understood it like Sharni did. This was their home, for better or worse. And unlike almost every other kid in their year, she had no desire to get out. Hannah needed her, and Skye needed her. She belonged here. She tried not to think: With Gage.

  ‘I’m going to study hard, get my law degree, and set up shop right here on the Main Street.’ She smiled at the little girl, who was looking at her with shining eyes. ‘And then I’ll get to watch you get dressed up all pretty when it’s your graduation night.’

  ‘Either way,’ Skye said, taking Hannah out of Lou’s arms. ‘Lou Lou does have to go to her party tonight. It’s very important.’ She tickled Hannah’s tummy. ‘We wouldn’t want Lou Lou to miss her ball, would we?’

  Hannah stopped giggling and turned deadly serious. ‘Oh no,’ she said, jumping down from Skye’s arms and running over to Lou. ‘You must go, Yu Yu! You yook sooooo beeyooteeful!’

  Lou scowled at her mother. ‘But I don’t want to miss our playtime,’ she said gently to Hannah, sending her mum a firm message: I’m not going.

  Skye scooted Hannah out of the room with a suggestion she go fetch her princess doll and turned on Lou. ‘You must go,’ she said, hands on her hips in that way she had when she meant business. ‘Don’t you think I can look after her for one night?’

  Lou wasn’t sure how to answer that. Skye didn’t have a great track record.

  Skye’s face softened. ‘I’m sober, Louella,’ she said, drawing an X on her chest. ‘Cross my heart.’

  It was tempting. Oh God, it was so tempting. She looked at her watch. Only an hour or so until Hannah had to go to bed. Lou had already made her favourite – spaghetti bolognaise. And Skye did seem sober. Maybe it would be okay?

  Even the tired old Queen’s Arms looked magical tonight, lit with fairy lights and filled with young people dressed like they had never been before. She glanced at the slim gold watch that her mother had strapped to her wrist as she had walked, still feeling a little uncertain, out the door. Nine o’clock. She wanted to be home by eleven at the latest. She had a terrible superstition that bad things happened after midnight.

  ‘Go get him,’ Sharni whispered, looking over at Gage. ‘He’s been giving you those damn eyes all night and if you don’t do it soon the place is going to spontaneously combust.’

  Lou stared hard at Sharni, who looked a million dollars in a sparkling minidress that showed off her long legs and waist-length curls and made her look like some Titian goddess.

  She hesitated, then she jumped. ‘Okay,’ she said, smiling. ‘I will.’

  She walked over to him slowly and he watched her come, not meeting her halfway.

  And Lou understood. She needed to go to him this time.

  Oh, God, the sight of him in that black suit set her heart to racing. He was sublime, his too-long hair the perfect foil to the sharp cut of the suit. Unlike most of the other boys, he filled it out like a grown man, years of hard work on the land sharpening his body to a fine thing. He watched her walk towards him with those all-seeing green eyes and the desire on his face was so naked Lou almost chickened out. By the time she got to him, she couldn’t speak. She just held out a hand to him and they walked out the door.

  It was later than she had planned. Eleven thirty. But, oh, it had been worth it. She had told Gage to drop her off down the street; the last thing she needed was an interrogation from Skye, who would have been unbearably gleeful about her daughter arriving home in Gage’s ute, dishevelled and starry eyed.

  Gage hadn’t wanted to drop her off, had wanted to see her in, but she had raised an eyebrow at him. ‘It’s one street away,’ she said, laughing. ‘And it’s Stone Mountain. What’s going to happen to me?’

  He had kissed her one last time – long and dark and scorching, and her body responded, again, as she was sure it always would. He grinned at her. ‘Okay, Louise Samuels. But remember our deal – tomorrow, lunch. Be there.’

  She smiled back at him, her heart light and her insides cart-wheeling dizzily. ‘Wouldn’t miss it,’ she said.

  She almost skipped the few blocks home, startled out of her reverie by the sound of squealing tyres and an engine gunning off in the other direction. But she didn’t think anything of it – just local boys celebrating the end of school, probably.

  Until she rounded the corner into her street.

  She wasn’t sure what alerted her. The little body was so tiny, it was easy to miss, lying like a discarded bag in the road. But some sixth sense told her who it was. She couldn’t even scream as she raced towards her, bile rising in her throat. As Lou reached her, she crouched down and scooped her into her arms. The little girl in the pyjamas and slippers was covered in blood. Lou was sure she was dead, she was so still in her arms, but as Lou started to run towards the house, Hannah opened her eyes.

&n
bsp; ‘Yu Yu,’ she whispered, her voice full of pain and fear. ‘I was hungwy. I couldn’t wake Mummy up. I came yooking for you.’

  Lou was sobbing and screaming as she entered the house.

  The first thing she saw was the untouched pot of spaghetti on the stove – no signs of plates or dishes to indicate Hannah had been fed. As she dashed through to her mother’s room, where the phone lived, she saw the television was still on, tuned to kids’ shows. And the knowledge settled inside her like a fresh pain that she already knew would never go away. By the time she got to the phone, she didn’t even try to rouse Skye. She was passed out on the bed, a bong and bottle of pills on her bedside table, some guy Lou didn’t recognise beside her. Skye’s latest conquest. Lou screamed down the line to the ambulance, still cradling Hannah in her arms, and Skye didn’t even stir.

  The ambulance was there in minutes.

  But Lou already knew Hannah wasn’t going to make it.

  ‘So yeah,’ Lou said, finishing the truncated version of the story she had told Piper, and feeling like she had been made to live the whole horrible night over again. ‘I killed her, but so did Skye.’ She swallowed hard against the bitter taste that leeched into her mouth as the girl looked at her with tears running down her cheeks. ‘Only no-one ever knew that. As far as they all knew, it was just a hit-and-run, an accident. But I knew.’

  ‘And you’ll never, ever forget,’ a thin voice behind Lou said. Lou and Piper both turned to see Skye standing in the doorway, looking thin and pale, a long trickle of blood beneath her nose. Her eyes blazed at Lou. ‘And you’ll never forgive me.’

  ‘Mum!’ Lou sprang from her chair and raced over to Skye, who swayed as Lou reached her.

  ‘It wasn’t like that, Skye,’ Piper said in a rush. ‘Lou didn’t want to –’

  ‘Save it, Pip,’ Skye whispered, her eyes rolling back in her head as she passed out.