Thyla (3 page)

I was not angry at you any more, Connolly. In those few seconds I stopped being angry and started feeling sad. And guilty.

‘I’m sorry,’ I began.

You clasped my arm with your freckled hand and said, ‘No, Tess. It’s okay. I know you’re feeling hurt. And lost. And abandoned. And
I’m
sorry that I have to leave you. I would take you home with me – I really would – but it’s against protocol. The other alternatives for you weren’t really suitable – group homes and that sort of thing. After what you’ve been through, you need an adult to look out for you. At least I know that here Cynthia can keep an eye on you. As long as you let her. Don’t fight her like Cat did, okay, Tess?’

I nodded and you went on. ‘And she’s set up the daughter of one of Vinnie’s friends to look out for you, too. She’ll be your peer mentor. Her name is Charlotte. I don’t remember Cat talking about her, but then Cat didn’t talk to me about anything much after she came here. Cynthia says she’s a good girl, though. A prefect. I hope you’ll like her.’

‘Connolly?’ I said.

‘What, Tess?’

‘If I remember anything about Cat, I’ll tell you. I promise.’

And I meant it. Suddenly, strongly, I
needed
to find Cat. I needed to help you, to repay you. And I needed to make Cat safe. Some fuzzy memory whispered to me that I
could
do this. I
needed
to do this. Perhaps this was my purpose.

I now had a reason to
want
to remember. I had a reason to use this notebook.

‘Thank you, Tessa,’ you said. ‘And I will never stop trying to find out who you are.’

Then you went and you left me by myself.

You were going to come in with me and say hello to Cynthia but as I opened the car door, a call came through on the black box you called your ‘two-way’. It was Vinnie. I recognised his voice, even with all the crackles and squeals.

‘Connolly, are you done with the kid? I need you at the station.’ It wasn’t a request. I could tell that much.

‘I’d better go,’ you said, rolling your eyes. ‘I’m sorry. Tell Cynthia we’ll catch up for coffee soon. And call me. At least once a week. You have my phone number?’

I felt at the pocket of my new school skirt, the one you bought for me. Though I did not find the skirt agreeable – I found it uncomfortable compared with trousers, and I believed its length indecently short – I was thankful to you for buying it for me. I knew the other girls would be wearing similar skirts and I wished to look as they did. Inside the pocket, a piece of paper rustled: the piece of paper on which you had written your ‘number’.

‘Yes,’ I said, and I decided I would work out later how exactly to use a ‘phone’.

‘Right, well, do. I mean it. I want to hear how you’re going. And if ever you need me to come and visit, just let me know, okay? I live really close to here, just over in Sandy Bay, so I’m only ever a few minutes away.’

‘I will,’ I said. ‘And thank you for … for your name. Thank you.’

I had no last name. None that I could remember, anyway, and so you had lent me yours, just until I remembered – or discovered – my own.

‘Tessa Connolly,’ you said. ‘It has a nice ring to it.’

Then you held me close and whispered in my ear, ‘Be brave, Tess. But please, be conscious, too. Be mindful. Look after yourself. And write in your book, okay?’

I promised I would. ‘Every day.’

‘Good girl,’ you said, and patted my hair.

As you turned to get back in the car, I saw the sun sparkle on the tears in your eyes. It made you look as if you were lit from within. Like your soul was glowing.

I waved at you as your car went backwards out onto the road. You really are so clever to make your car work. It does look very complicated.

I wondered, suddenly, if I would ever drive a car. I supposed I would but, right then, the thought terrified me.

‘First things first,’ I said to myself as I walked towards the high metal gate that cut through the wall of Cascade Falls.

I took a deep breath, and pushed.

‘It’s okay, Tess. You weren’t to know about the intercom,’ said Ms Hindmarsh as we walked towards the big building that hid behind the gate.

I was so embarrassed I couldn’t even look up from the ground.

Intercom
.

Another word I did not know the meaning of only five minutes ago. Five minutes ago, when the heavy gate would not budge no matter how hard I pushed, and I rattled on its bars and yelled at the top of my voice, ‘Hello? Cynthia? Ms Hindmarsh? It’s me, Tessa. I’m here!’

I really
wished
I had known the word ‘intercom’ when, a couple of minutes later, Ms Hindmarsh appeared at the gate with a burly man in green overalls, who was saying to her, ‘There she is, Cynthia. I told you she was a loony! You want me to call the cops?’

‘Actually, Bernard, I think it might have been the police who brought her here. Well, one particular police officer anyway. Am I right, Tessa?’

I nodded. ‘I didn’t know how to get in,’ I mumbled, feeling embarrassed already. Why had that man said I was a loony? I only wanted to get inside. That didn’t make me a loony!

‘Why didn’t you just press the button?’ asked Bernard.

‘I didn’t see a …’

I glanced to one side and saw a big black box with a green button in its middle and the words ‘Push to talk’.

‘That button?’ I asked. ‘But I already
was
talking. I was yelling! I didn’t need a button for talking. I needed one for getting inside the wall.’

Bernard snorted, his face turning pink. ‘Is she serious?’ he asked.

‘Bernard, thank you,’ said Ms Hindmarsh. ‘You can go now. I’ll take it from here.’

Apparently the button is something like a ‘two-way’. If you press it, it lets you talk to Ms Hindmarsh’s secretary, Miss Bloom, even though she is miles away inside the walls of Cascade Falls. If she decides that you should be allowed to enter, she presses a button on
her
side, and the gate magically opens.

I really don’t remember seeing anything like an intercom button before. I felt, not for the first time, as though I had woken up in an HG Wells novel.

Ms Hindmarsh was very nice about it, but I felt silly anyway.

It took me a good couple of minutes before I felt my embarrassment fade just enough that I could look up at Ms Hindmarsh. She was very pretty and young and had curly blonde hair and a very small nose with freckles on it. Not as many freckles as you have, Connolly, and they are smaller. Kind of like a fine sprinkling of dark pollen across her nose. Her face was happy and kind, and I immediately felt I might like her, especially because I knew she was your friend.

And then, after I looked at her and she smiled, I looked up at my new school.

What I saw made me stop very still and catch my breath.

It really was lovely.

You were right, Connolly. Cascade Falls is very pretty indeed!

There are trees and there is grass, which made me glad. And the building itself was not as horrid to me as the other intimidating boxes we had passed. It seemed welcoming, and its shape seemed, to me, like the way buildings
should
be shaped.

It is not a
very
large building. More medium-sized. It is a bit bigger than the Church of St David’s that you showed me in the city, but smaller than the art gallery.

Its roof is pointed in three places, and in each of the points there is a lovely stained glass panel, with pictures of angels and birds and animals. Tasmanian animals. I saw a possum and a wallaby and on the largest panel – the centre one – there was a Tasmanian devil and a Tasmanian tiger. I was proud to remember all of the names of the animals, and I thought the last ones – the devil and tiger – were especially captivating. I looked at the sun gleaming on the glass, and I felt my belly ache with longing.

I did not know what it was, but I longed for
something
just outside of memory and the dull pain of it vibrated around my body.

I shook my head. I willed tears away.
I do not cry.

‘Do you like our stained glass?’ asked Ms Hindmarsh.

‘It’s lovely,’ I replied.

‘Thank you,’ she said, smiling. ‘My husband’s great-great-great-grandfather started it, way back in the 1830s, and my husband finished it a few years ago.’

Ms Hindmarsh suddenly looked as though she was in pain. I remembered what you had told me about Ms Hindmarsh’s husband being ‘gone’. I tried to make her feel better.

‘He was very talented,’ I said.

‘Yes, he is,’ said Ms Hindmarsh. I opened my mouth to say something about what you had told me – about Raphael being gone. Why had Ms Hindmarsh said ‘is’, as though he was still alive? But Ms Hindmarsh looked so sad, Connolly. I knew it would be wrong of me to ask. Perhaps it hurt her too much to think of him as gone.

‘I only hope you like the rest of Cascade Falls just as much as you like this,’ she went on, wrenching her eyes away from the stained glass. Her voice was brighter now. ‘Has Rachel told you much about the school?’

‘Rachel?’ For a moment, the name was foreign to me, and then I remembered. ‘Connolly?’

‘She’s always Rachel to me,’ Ms Hindmarsh said, smiling. ‘Occasionally, she’s even “Rachie”, but don’t tell her I told you that. She
hates
that name! We’ve known each other for a long time, Tessa. We went to school together up in Campbell Town, and to university together down here. The first day I met her, I called her Rachie and she told me if I ever called her that name again she’d punch me in the face. She was a bit more, well, unruly back then. But we all were. Comes from being in a small town, I think. The boredom was crushing. Well, I thought it was. Raphael liked the bush …’

Ms Hindmarsh trailed off, her face growing serious. ‘Oh, listen to me, Tess,’ she said, squeezing my arm. ‘I’ve gone all nostalgic and sentimental! I promise you, I am a very competent and capable principal as well as being a complete sook!’

I returned her smile. I did like Ms Hindmarsh. Not as much as I like you, Connolly, but she seemed very nice, and I felt myself relaxing immediately. My breathing calmed down. My heartbeat slowed. I felt safe.

‘Now, Tess, I think Rachel told you I’ve lined up a peer mentor for you to show you the ropes – how to get to your classes, where the bathrooms are, that sort of thing?’

I nodded. ‘It’s the daughter of one of Vinnie’s friends?’

‘Yes. She’s the daughter of Edward Lord, one of the school’s major benefactors. Her name is Charlotte. She is one of the prefects here at Cascade Falls. She is a really dedicated student, and very popular. I’m sure she will make an excellent guide for you. Ah, here she is!’

We finished our walk at the high, polished-wood entrance to the Cascade Falls building. Standing in front of it was a tall, slender girl with pale blonde hair pulled back in a neat, tight bun. Her face was very comely and I immediately felt inferior. She was how I imagined a lady would look; so refined and delicately pretty. Her cheekbones were very high and sharply angled, and every feature on her face seemed in exactly the right proportions – not too big or too small. It was only when I reached her eyes that I found a feature of her face that did not please me. They were the colour of a winter sky, and when her dark red lips smiled, her eyes did not follow, but stayed chilly. Perhaps that was how ladies smiled, though; always coldly in control. I smiled back awkwardly.

‘Hello, Ms Hindmarsh,’ she said.

She turned to me, and I felt my heart quicken, my muscles tense. She was smiling, but I did not feel she was being exactly friendly towards me.

And I was not sure if I felt friendly towards her.

I knew she was the daughter of Vinnie’s friend. Of
your
friend. I knew Ms Hindmarsh had recommended her very highly, but still, something niggled at me. Something like a memory, but different. More like intuition.

‘Hello … Tessa, is it?’ she asked.

I nodded, and bowed my head. Every instinct in my body was telling me to make myself low.

Hide
, a voice in my head said, and the muscles continued to pull down.

I pulled against them.

Camouflage. Stalk.

I told the voice in my head to be quiet. I tried to extinguish the fire that had begun to spark inside me.

Why was it asking me to hide? And especially, why was it asking me to hide from this girl?

Perhaps these voices were the call of memories trying to make themselves known – but now was not the time for them to be doing so. They were strange memories, belonging to a strange person, and I did not want to be seen as strange.

I had an inkling Charlotte Lord might not like ‘strange’.

‘Yes. Hello, Charlotte,’ I said, willing my muscles to relax.

‘Welcome to Cascade Falls,’ she said, her eyes seeming to penetrate me. ‘I know you’ll get along just fine here. If you let me teach you how.’

‘Did Miss Bloom give you a copy of Tessa’s schedule?’ asked Ms Hindmarsh.

Charlotte nodded and held up a sheet of blue paper. ‘We have four classes together, so that’s good,’ she said. ‘And I can ask one of the girls to keep an eye on her in the others. I think among all my friends there should be at least one girl in each of Tessa’s classes. We’ll look out for her. Dad told me everything Tessa has been through. He was most concerned for her.’

‘You know everything that happened to me?’ I blurted. ‘Your father knows? But
how
?’

‘Oh, my father knows most things,’ Charlotte said, smiling in her pretty, wintry way.

Charlotte must have noticed my anxious expression, because she laughed and said, ‘Don’t worry, silly thing. Dad only told me you had an accident and they were unable to find your parents. If you have any more sordid skeletons in your closet, they are still hiding away behind the coats.’

I felt a bit calmer. Of course, she was right. There was no way her father could know everything – about my memory, about how I looked when I was discovered. About the scars.

For some reason, it was Charlotte knowing about the scars that bothered me most. I was not certain why, but I did not want her to know about the scars.

I did not want
any
of my classmates at Cascade Falls to know about the scars. I wanted to be normal. I wanted to be liked. I wanted to be successful at this ‘school’ business. I wanted to make you proud of me.

Suddenly, the wooden doors behind Charlotte sprang open and two giggling girls burst through.

One of the girls had quite dark skin, and another word joined the collection in my mind:
Aboriginal
.

She had very large eyes, shaped like round hazelnuts, and her cropped curly black hair was streaked with sunlight.

The other girl was very pale, with ginger hair and cheeks like two bright red apples. Her eyes were green and they were glimmering wickedly.

When the girls saw us standing there, they stopped abruptly and ceased their giggling.

‘Sorry, Ms Hindmarsh,’ said the short one. ‘We were just, um, getting some fresh air before class!’

From deep inside the building, a voice echoed towards us.

‘Laurel Simpson! Erin Mijak! Come back here!’

Ms Hindmarsh put her hands on her hips and stared at the girls, eyebrows raised.

‘Ummm …’ said the dark-skinned girl. ‘Maybe we should just, errr …’

She looked behind her at the man with the messy, tawny hair and crumpled tweed suit who was rapidly approaching down the hallway, and then turned back to Ms Hindmarsh.

Another word popped into my head:
surrounded.

The two girls seemed to deflate, their chests sinking, their faces becoming weary.

The short girl sighed and said, ‘I’m sorry, Ms Hindmarsh. We got in trouble in the breakfast hall for making, um,
rude
things. Out of our pancakes.’

‘We just wanted to see if we could do it!’ the other girl blurted. ‘I mean, we’re getting really good with our mashed potato sculpture, and we just wanted to see if we could do it with pancakes, too, and it started
off
with just rabbits and angels and things, but then … it was my fault. I wanted to see if I could make a pen–’

‘Okay, enough, girls!’ Ms Hindmarsh said, quickly. Her voice was a little bit harder than when she had been talking to me and Charlotte, but it still wasn’t unkind. ‘We have a new student here,’ she said, putting a hand on my shoulder. It felt warm. ‘We should be showing her what upstanding young women we have here at Cascade Falls. Do you think you’re doing a very good job of that? Laurel?’

The red-haired girl shook her head, and her corkscrew auburn ringlets bounced and danced.

‘Erin?’

The other girl said, ‘No, Ms Hindmarsh. I’m sorry. It really was all my fault.’

‘I don’t really mind whose fault it is. It won’t happen again, will it?’

‘No, Ms Hindmarsh. I promise it won’t,’ said Lauren. ‘Just, please, please, please don’t give us another detention! We’re already in detention until the middle of next month!’

I looked up at Ms Hindmarsh’s face, and was surprised to see that she seemed to be trying not to smile. Her eyes were glittering, and the corners of her mouth were twitching up and down.

She looked behind the girls at the man in the tweed jacket, who was now standing in the doorway, hands on hips. He looked very, very cross. ‘What do you think, Mr Beagle?’ she asked.

‘Well,
I
think the more time these two have in detention, thinking very hard about
actions
and
consequences,
the better! The way they behave is dreadful. And
dangerous.
They need to be more
vigilant
. Yes, more detention is just what they need.’

‘I think they are already ashamed enough, don’t you, Mr Beagle? To have acted in such a way in front of a new student?’

I looked at Laurel, and she gave me a small grin. One that looked anything but ashamed. I smiled shyly back.

‘You’re the boss,’ said Mr Beagle grumpily. He turned to me and said, ‘Welcome to Cascade Falls,’ and then marched quickly back down the hallway.

Above me, seemingly from nowhere, a deafening noise blared out. The noise shocked me and I cowered, squeezing my eyes tightly shut. It sounded like some angry animal, threatening to pounce.