Nate
I stood in the playground, surrounded by snot-nosed brats who, today, were basically doing nothing but pissing me off. It had rained all week, and thank fuck it was Friday, because I was tired, grumpy, and in need of a drink. My week had been complete and utter bullshit. The roof on my shit box of a house leaked like someone had gone ballistic with a machine gun piercing a million and one holes in the old tin. I’d nearly come off the bike more than once on the slippery roads. And a wet week meant a week of keeping the monsters inside. Every. Single. Lunchtime. I got no break. I had to bloody co-ordinate with the teacher next door to come in and watch my tribe of lunatics just so I could take a leak. And don’t even get me started on the lack of caffeine in my system. It just seemed like too much of an effort, too much hassle to even bother jumping the mud puddles on my way to the main office just to get a cup of that rubbish they called coffee.
It wasn’t all bad, though. Having a wet week had turned everything bright, lush green, and this time of year, that was a miracle in itself, or so I’m told. On top of that, being cooped up inside all week had forced me to get the rest of my crap sorted and the last box unpacked. It had been almost three months since I’d moved in, and I had yet to finish unpacking my life. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to set down some roots, it was more I was afraid to. Last time I’d settled it didn’t end with a happily ever after.
I’d pretty much settled into a pattern now. It was boring and monotonous, but it worked for me. Right now, that was enough. I wasn’t stupid enough to believe that it would work forever, or maybe even too much longer, but for right now it was perfect. Tuesday night was steak night at the club, and Thursday was chicken schnitzel. If I managed to get myself really organised, and by organised I mean showered and presentable on a Sunday, then I’d hit the Sunday roast. The rest of the time I ate like a bachelor. If I couldn’t grill it on the barbeque or pull it from a packet, I pretty much went hungry. You’d be surprised how long you can last eating baked beans alone before you’d go insane.
Looking at my watch, I saw I only had twenty minutes before this god forsaken week was over and I could get on my bike and get the hell out of here…something I was craving like a meth addict looking for his next hit.
“Mr. Mitchell!” I heard someone whine my name.
I hoped it wasn’t Elizabeth.
I prayed it wasn’t her.
Turning in the direction of the painful noise, I saw the little girl with the widest, most curious coloured green eyes I’d ever seen. Elizabeth. Gulping down my annoyance, I remembered that I was a teacher and I was at school and started moving towards her.
“What’s wrong, Elizabeth?” I asked as I crouched down to her tiny height.
This kid annoyed me. I mean, most of the time they all had their moments, but for some reason, Elizabeth just got to me more than the others. She was so fussy. So cautious. So timid. I wanted to see her break out of her shell and be a normal nine-year-old. I mean, what kind of kid scolded their peers for running on the concrete? She was old beyond her years, and some days, when I wasn’t enduring the torture of caffeine withdrawals, she broke my heart.
“M-Mum’s not here!”
Balanced delicately on the edge of her eyelids, I could see the big fat tears just waiting to spill over her rosy cheeks as her bottom lip trembled. “Don’t cry. I’m sure she’ll be here soon. She’s not late. Look how many other kids are still here playing waiting for their mums.”
I wasn’t lying. For a school of barely one hundred students, there was still probably about thirty bouncing around the quadrangle causing chaos. Tennis balls were rolling in every direction with boys chasing after them, while a group of girls doodled on the concrete with fat sticks of pink chalk. Only pink. I’d already suffered through the drama when someone tried to use yellow.
“Promise?”
“Absolutely.”
Rarely did I make such adamant promises to kids. It was something I never wanted to do. Breaking a promise to a child had the potential to destroy them. Even though I’d only been in the education system for a handful of years, I’d already had the unfortunate experience of witnessing the damage a broken promise could do. With Elizabeth though, this was different. There was no way her mother would forget her. I could only pray she’d forget me.
Elizabeth skipped away, seemingly satisfied with my answer while I mentally prepared myself for the onslaught. Again. Brooke was persistent, if nothing else. I mean, she wasn’t a horrible woman, and she wasn’t even bad looking, she just wasn’t for me. Somewhere along the line she’d figured out my schedule and started showing up. Almost every Tuesday she’d be at the club where she’d causally mention that she was dining alone and how unfortunate that we were both single. Most of the time, I’d simply explain that I wasn’t alone but having a working dinner, and pull out a stack of papers. However in the last two weeks her, should we say interest, seemed to have slipped into overdrive and now it seemed as though she was waiting until the absolute last possible moment to collect Elizabeth each day so the others were already long gone. Last Wednesday I thought I spotted her sitting in her car halfway down the street, watching until the last bus pulled out before she stepped out of the beat up old Holden in the most ridiculously short dress I’d ever seen. I mean, I wasn’t a prude, and god knows I could use a good woman about now, maybe that would bring me out of my funk, but I wasn’t going there. When I’d mentioned it to Derek over a few beers the other night, he’d almost fallen down with laughter before divulging Brooke’s not so innocent history. A history I had no intention of becoming a part of. Hell, that was the last thing I needed.
The bus pulled in, and beneath me, the kids started scurrying around like ants as they scooped up their backpacks and charged onto the bus, arguing over who got the prestigious backseat. It was something that happened no matter the kids’ age or the school. And to this day, I have no idea why. Why was the backseat so damned irresistible to the terrors? I didn’t give a shit, though. With the bus pulling out, there were only a handful of kids left, who seemed to be getting their stuff together as well. The nightmare of a week would soon be over. And tonight, after a long ride on the bike and a hot shower, I had plans.
I think Derek felt sorry for me.
When he’d shown up and put his six pack in my fridge, his comment didn’t go unheard that the only thing in my fridge was a tub of butter, a block of cheese, which I wasn’t sure how long had been there, and a bottle of barbeque sauce. Showing pity on me, Derek had invited me for dinner and a few cold ones. Who was I to say no? There was no way in hell I was turning down a home-cooked meal. That sounded like heaven to me.
Too busy thinking about perfectly cooked roast pork with crunchy crackling smothered in gravy, and roasted vegetables that were crunchy on the outside and soft on this inside, I didn’t see Brooke staggering towards me. Something was off about her today. I couldn’t place it, but the way she wobbled on her too high heels as she crossed the road made my gut clench.
The moment she stepped into my personal space, I knew.
She was pissed.
Not drunk off your ass falling down kinda drunk, but if her glassy eyes and flushed cheeks weren’t a dead giveaway, then the disgusting stomach turning odours of stale beer and cigarette smoke were.
“Hi Nate,” she slurred slightly, not really able to hold eye contact.
“Afternoon, Brooke. Have you had a good day?”
The moment I asked, I knew I shouldn’t have. I couldn’t show any concern for her normal life. God forbid I give her the impression I’m interested. That couldn’t be further from the truth.
“Fabulous day, darling. You should have been there. I won fifty bucks on the pokies and a meat tray. Dunno what I’m going to do with all that damn meat, though. I mean, I’ve got no bloke around. Maybe you could…”
“Freeze it?” I suggested, desperate to stop the next words in her thought process coming out. I did not need to hear that. I’d never need to hear that again.
Pulling her tortoiseshell glasses from her face, I saw the woman beneath and instantly felt bad for the way my body physically recoiled from her. Her makeup was slathered on so thick it looked like she’d employed a team of concreters to apply it. But where her glasses sat on the bridge of her nose, it had been wiped clean. Brooke’d had a rough day. Well, at least she looked like it.
“Lizzie! Lizzie, come on. Gotta go.”
Elizabeth set about grabbing her backpack and picking up the forgotten chalk and placing it in the bucket before bounding over to her mother, her eyes alive. She’d thought she’d been forgotten. Thought her Mum didn’t care. The relief was evident on Elizabeth’s tiny features and I couldn’t deny I felt a twinge myself. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d broken that promise.
“Mum! Mum! Look what I did today!”
“That’s nice,” Brooke replied automatically, not even bothering to look down at the papers her daughter was holding out hopefully.
Some people didn’t deserve to be parents.
“Let’s go, Lizzie. Mummy’s going out tonight.”
She winked at me.
At least she tried to. Like it was supposed to turn me on or something.
It didn’t.
If anything it made her look like she was a bit freaking special. I needed to get the hell out of there. “Well, ladies…have a great weekend, and Elizabeth…”
“Yes, Mr. Mitchell?”
“I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Yes, Mr. Mitchell.”
As I went to walk away, fingers wrapped around my forearm. Looking down, I spotted the purple nail polish that was chipped and worn. “Brooke…” I kept my tone firm and full of warning as I spun around to face her. This was getting really fucking old really fucking fast.
“I’ll see you tonight. Mr. Mitchell.”
She practically purred. But the stench of her breath was feral. It was the most nauseating thing I’d been exposed to in a long time. And that included the dead mouse I found last weekend in one of the closed up bedrooms.
Not trusting myself to say anything, I stepped from her grasp and headed back towards my room. I needed to get my shit together and get out of here like now.
“Let’s go, Lizzie. I don’t have all day.” I heard the harsh words, and as I turned the corner, I couldn’t help but glance back. Elizabeth, who hated being called Lizzie, slunk towards the car, her giant backpack dwarfing her. In front of her, Brooke was surrounded by a cloud of smoke as she stumbled back to the car.
I didn’t want to let Elizabeth go with her mother. Not in that state. But the stupid laws protect the stupid. There was not a fucking thing I could do. I couldn’t make her stay. I couldn’t hold her here. I couldn’t even cause a scene. All I knew was that little girl should not be in that car. And Brooke should not be behind the wheel.
Letting the hero complex inside me win, I dug out my phone and called Derek. He could deal with it.