Catch Me If I Fall Read online

  ‘What did you think of school, Aiden?’ I asked.

  He shrugged and brushed wet hair from his face.

  ‘It’s okay,’ he replied. ‘I think Mr Meredith might be nice. You know, Ashleigh? Really nice.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Silly in a way grown-ups normally aren’t.’

  ‘He likes his students.’

  ‘That’s what Charlotte said.’

  ‘Is Charlotte going to be your friend?’

  This time I shrugged.

  ‘Maybe. It’s early days.’

  Suddenly, I didn’t feel like talking, so I bobbed about on the edge of the pool and watched, through tinted windows, the hills in the distance. They were purple, patched with green and cottoned by heat haze. The early evening air swam. Aiden did laps, left me to my thoughts.

  Dad quizzed us about school over dinner. The frittata was delicious and the chips were crisp and crunchy, so I ate them one nibble at a time, savouring their earthiness. I’d pulled those potatoes from the ground myself. Aiden left most of the talking to me, as always.

  ‘Well,’ said Dad. ‘I’m glad the first day went well. The school has a great reputation and it wasn’t easy to get you enrolled.’

  I knew that. The fees were huge, though Mum and Dad could afford them. But they didn’t take just anyone. I have no idea how difficult it was to get the school to accept us, but Mum and Dad had interview after interview, as well as dishing out plenty of money. When we lived in Queensland, we’d started with School of the Air tuition because the place we lived in was pretty much cut off from civilisation. Since moving to Sydney, though, we’d had tutors come to the house and that was okay in a way, but not okay in another way. I wanted to make friends with other girls and although Mum and Dad told me I was lucky I had a friend in my twin brother – and that plenty of people would be very envious of us for that – I made it clear that it wasn’t enough. I love my brother, yeah. But he’s not a friend. He’s not someone I can share … well, girl things with. Obviously. This school will change all that. I think Charlotte will become a friend, but maybe others as well. It was my first day after all and I’d made a terrific start in the friends department.

  Mum video-called us at bedtime from her hotel in Melbourne. She and Dad had a chat first and then he put us on when we were in bed reading.

  ‘How was your first day at school, kiddlypunks?’

  I wished, for the thousandth time, she’d stop calling us that. It’s embarrassing.

  ‘It was great, Mum,’ I said. ‘I think I made a friend already.’

  We told her everything about the day, the classes and what we’d learned and especially about Mr Meredith. Mum smiled, nodded and told us she’d be back the day after tomorrow, assuming flights weren’t disrupted, which was a big assumption. She told us she loved us and to make sure the bed bugs didn’t bite and we told her we loved her and that there weren’t any bed bugs and then we handed her back to Dad.

  Aiden wanted to talk, but I wasn’t in the mood. I thought it was crazy we still had to share a room when we were twelve years old. It wasn’t like there weren’t plenty of bedrooms in our new house, but Mum and Dad wouldn’t hear of it. You can look out for each other during the night, they said. We’re asleep. Duh, I pointed out. Didn’t make a difference.

  I switched off my bedside lamp and turned towards the wall, mainly to discourage Aiden from talking. He wouldn’t say anything if he thought I was going to sleep. But I wasn’t going to sleep just yet. I was going to go over in my head the entire day, relive every moment. And I knew that when I did fall asleep, I’d dream of school, Mr Meredith and Charlotte. It would be delicious.

  Aiden doesn’t dream. Or so he says. Maybe he doesn’t remember them. That’s equal parts weird and sad, if you ask me.

  2

  I knew it was a very bad idea. As soon as I had it, I knew. But I wouldn’t listen, even to myself.

  Mr Meredith checked his tablet again before lunch; this time the news was better and we were allowed to play outside, though only with hats and sunblock that he personally inspected. Duty of care, he muttered as he examined us. You get skin cancer, I’m the one responsible. Nobody but Mr Meredith seemed to worry about that. Some of the boys and a couple of the girls immediately rushed to the basketball court. Charlotte and I stayed under shade at a bench and opened our lunchboxes. I had an apple, sliced carrots and a boiled egg from our very own chook, Kentucky. Charlotte had a sandwich with what looked like beef in it. She noticed me staring.

  ‘I love beef,’ she said, taking a small bite. ‘Don’t you, Ashleigh?’

  ‘Oh yeah,’ I said. ‘But Mum and Dad won’t let me have any. They say it’s “not sustainable”.’ I made the quotation marks in the air with my fingers. ‘That’s why I’m stuck with fruit and vegetables. Always vegetables. I get sick of it, to be honest.’

  Charlotte put her sandwich back in her lunchbox. She’d only taken the one bite.

  ‘Have you ever eaten mango?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course,’ I replied. ‘We lived in Queensland before moving to Sydney. There were mangoes all around us.’

  ‘I love mango. Only had it once, but that taste …’ She got this dreamy look in her eyes. ‘Now there’s a huge shortage and you can’t get them anywhere. Except …’

  ‘Except?’

  ‘Someone told me there’s a tree in Victoria Park, a few minutes from here. A couple of trees. And that there are mangoes growing on them.’

  I laughed.

  ‘They must’ve been joking. Mangoes don’t grow in Sydney.’

  Charlotte picked up her sandwich again, thought better of it and put it back.

  ‘That used to be true,’ she said. ‘But climate change has altered all sorts of things. Most of it bad, but the occasional bit good. Apparently, Sydney’s climate is now hot enough that mangoes can grow. Jessica, who’s in the year above us, says she’s seen them in Victoria Park. And trust me, Jessica knows what she’s talking about.’

  I chewed on a carrot stick. It seemed unlikely that Charlotte would make this up. A bit like yesterday with the zygote pronouncement, she’d shown her brilliance on almost everything today in class. Her head’s stuffed with knowledge.

  ‘Even if that’s true,’ I said. Charlotte gave me a sharp glance. ‘And I’m sure it is,’ I added. ‘Then someone would have picked them by now. There’s no way free fruit would last long in any park.’

  Charlotte sighed.

  ‘That’s probably true,’ she said. ‘Probably.’

  That’s when I had the idea.

  ‘I’ll go and check it out for you,’ I said.

  ‘When?’

  ‘Right now. Me and Aiden will go now. It’s just down Albert Street and if we run we’ll be back way before the start of afternoon classes.’ I was excited. If there was a way to impress my new friend, make sure she saw me as someone worthy of friendship, then this was it. I got to my feet.

  ‘The school won’t let you out at lunchtime,’ said Charlotte. ‘It’s a really firm rule because they need to know where you are at all times. You heard Mr Meredith and all that duty of care business. Anyway, it could be dangerous out there. You know there are parts of Sydney that are not … safe.’

  I brushed aside her arguments, mainly because I was in that heady zone of imagination where the promise of success blinds you to fear. The way I thought about it was this – even if I didn’t get a mango, and I was pretty sure they couldn’t exist – I’d show her how I wasn’t scared of anything, that I was a rebel, someone who acted on the spur of the moment without thinking of her own safety. I liked that vision of myself, even if it was a long way from the truth.

  ‘We’re fenced in,’ Charlotte pointed out.

  ‘It would take more than a fence to keep me in,’ I said. ‘Go talk to Mr Meredith. Distract him. Do a chicken impersonation. I’ll be back soon.’

  I ran to where Aidan was sitting, watching the basketball. He’s good at most sports, but he wouldn’t play unless I was
on court with him. It’s no wonder I always have to take the initiative.

  ‘Come with me, Aiden,’ I said and he didn’t hesitate. It was like he was waiting for instruction.

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘Over the fence,’ I said. ‘And then to Victoria Park.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I’ll explain as we go.’

  To be fair to Aiden, he doesn’t waste time arguing. When I put the toe of my school shoe into the chain link fence and climbed the two metres to its top, he was right there beside me. We dropped down onto the ground and scurried behind a straggly bush maybe fifty metres away. I brushed hair from my eyes and peered from our hiding space. As far as I could tell, no one in the school had noticed us. No alarm had been raised. I squatted down on my haunches and tried to regulate my breathing.

  Now I had time to think, I wondered what the hell I was doing. There wouldn’t be a mango tree. That was just crazy. And Charlotte was right about one thing – there were dangerous places round here. Mum and Dad had told us stories about the horrible things that could happen to people who wandered off by themselves. What had seemed like a good idea – proving my courage and worth – now seemed stupid and pointless. But I couldn’t just climb back in. Charlotte would know I’d got cold feet and I couldn’t face that. It crossed my mind to just wait there for ten or fifteen minutes, hidden from view, and then go back, tell Charlotte I couldn’t find the tree. Or maybe that I had found it but someone must have beaten me to it and taken the fruit. Aiden would back me up.

  But somehow I couldn’t bring myself to do that either. The park could only be a minute or two down the street; in fact, when I glanced over my shoulder I caught a glimpse of trees just a few hundred metres away. We could be there and back in no time at all.

  ‘Come on, Aiden,’ I said.

  I tried explaining as we walked, but it was difficult to find the right words. For one thing, confessing that I was doing this purely to impress Charlotte would make me look like an idiot, and even though I didn’t care too much what Aiden thought, I drew the line at that. So I told him that I’d heard there were mangoes growing in the park and that I needed to check it out for myself. All brave, resourceful and independent. I have no idea if he believed me.

  ‘This is dangerous, Ash,’ he said. ‘If Mum and Dad find out …’

  ‘Then we’d better be careful they don’t find out, okay?’ I replied. He didn’t say anything to that but I could tell from the way he kept glancing all around as we walked that he was on high alert for any threat. And I have to confess that the further we walked the more scared I became. It was a strange world out there – an unfamiliar world, by and large – and apprehension was like hot breath on the back of my neck. The smallest sound made me jump and my skin felt hyper-sensitive.

  ‘Calm down,’ I said to Aiden. ‘You’re making me nervous.’

  He didn’t say anything.

  We arrived at the end of Albert Street and the park was laid out before us across the road. There was a slightly strange stone arch in cream, maroon and pale blue and I could make out an inscription across it that read Richard Hellyer Memorial Entrance. The park itself was lush, though the grass obviously hadn’t been cut in a long time. There’d been a number of storms recently and everywhere was green. Everywhere was also quiet. No traffic and, as far as I could see, no people in the park itself. My pulse steadied and I thought that maybe we should return now. I could mention the strangely named entrance as evidence I’d been and simply tell Charlotte that there were no mangoes. I’d shrug, apologise. Hey, no big deal. I tried, you know? But the quietness of the place made me want to at least set foot in the park. Just a small walk and then we’d go back. This was an adventure and I never had adventures.

  Aiden held my hand as we crossed the road and this time I let him. We stopped in front of the entrance arch and I wondered what it was doing there. I mean, it wasn’t an entrance as such. There was no fence or railings around the park, so you could just walk in anywhere you wanted. I couldn’t see the point of it. Anyway, we walked through regardless – it seemed rude not to, since someone had obviously gone to the trouble of building it. We stopped just inside the park. The concrete path beneath our feet was cracked, with tufts of grass and weeds spreading across it, like nature was fighting to take it back.

  It wasn’t a great park, as parks go. No waterfalls, like I’d seen on videos, but I guess that wasn’t surprising. No useful markers telling you the Latin names of the trees. Just grass and a few huge trees that I was pretty sure were Moreton Bay figs – I recognised them from when I lived in Queensland. No mango trees, that’s for sure, though I supposed I couldn’t know for certain unless I explored the entire place and I wasn’t going to do that. I was on the point of telling Aiden that we should go back when I heard a noise behind us. We spun around.

  A girl. She must have been sitting against the entrance post and we’d walked right past her. Now she got to her feet and I understood the noise that had brought her to our attention. She had a canister in her right hand and she was shaking it, twisting her wrist as if to mix the contents. She stood, legs splayed, shaking the can and staring at us. Aiden stepped in front of me. She didn’t seem like much of a threat, but Aiden never takes chances.

  She was dirty, this girl. Her face had faint streaks of grime, especially under her eyes, which were such a bright green they seemed to pin you to the spot. Her legs were dirty as well, though the fluorescent yellow Nike trainers she wore were spotless. Shorts and a T-shirt, both ragged. She must have been around thirteen or fourteen; it was difficult to tell. Hair was cut short and uneven, like she’d done it herself without the help of a mirror. Her mouth was wide, nose a snub. But it was her eyes that held you. There was silence for ten or twelve beats.

  ‘Hello,’ I said. ‘We don’t mean you any harm.’

  She didn’t say anything, nor did her eyes stray from ours. She just carried on shaking the can. I started to get a little uneasy. Street kids could be dangerous, we’d been told, though there was scarcely anything of her, her build was so slight. It looked like a strong breeze would knock her over.

  ‘We’re leaving now,’ I said and took a step towards her.

  Immediately, she stopped shaking the can and a series of sounds behind us made us turn. Seven or eight kids dropped from the branches of the nearest fig tree, like strange and alien fruit. They landed elegantly, flexing their legs. Not one stumbled. Aiden stepped in front of me again, obviously – and reasonably – judging the threat to be greater on that side. My throat was dry as the kids walked towards us. Five boys and two girls, all ragged, dirty and tough-looking. I thought briefly about running, but there was no point. It was obvious they’d run us down in less than ten metres. We didn’t have anything valuable, so there was no point trying to rob us. Then again, they might just decide to hurt us because … well, because we were different and maybe they were bored. I saw Aiden bunch his hands into fists.

  They formed a rough circle and looked us up and down. The first girl moved into the circle. She’d started shaking the can again.

  ‘We don’t have anything of value,’ I said. ‘We’re just a couple of schoolkids and we need to get back. I’m sorry if this is your place. We didn’t know and we certainly didn’t mean to trespass. We’d like to go now, if that’s all right.’

  Silence.

  ‘Please,’ I added.

  ‘Please,’ said the girl. She smiled, revealing a set of small, brilliantly white teeth. ‘How very polite. Please. Thank you. After you. Don’t mind if I do. Much appreciated.’ She stopped smiling.

  ‘We have nothing you want,’ I said into the following silence.

  ‘Oh, I dunno ’bout that,’ said the girl. She took a step towards us, ignoring Aiden’s attempt to block her. ‘Those clothes look good to me. Better than mine anyway. Maybe we’ll strip you naked, leave you ’ere to find your way home. If I’m feeling very generous, then you can wear my gear, but I dare say it wouldn’t suit. Fl
eas, you know. Nasty. Definitely not your … style.’

  ‘We’ll call security,’ said Aiden. That made most of them laugh.

  ‘Ooooh,’ said a boy. ‘Not security! I’m scared, Xena. Protect me, Xena. Those bad, bad security officers.’

  The girl held up the can and sprayed a fine black mist in front of our eyes. Aiden and I both took a step back.

  ‘Or maybe I’ll tag your bodies. That’d be cool. Xena’s tag on your bare butts. You could show them to security. I’m a bit bored with marking out our territory, to be honest.’ She pointed to the park entrance. On one of the pillars there was a large X in black spray paint and a smaller squiggle next to it that I couldn’t make out. ‘I need to branch out, develop my art,’ she continued. ‘What better than a couple of rich kids as my canvas?’

  I started to cry then. I tried not to because I didn’t think showing weakness was going to help us any, but I couldn’t help it. Aiden’s muscles were tensing. He was on the verge of attacking, I knew. He’d throw himself at the nearest boy and start punching. It wouldn’t matter that he was outnumbered, that they would probably beat him half to death. He’s never scared, even when he has every right to be.

  ‘You touch my sister and I’ll kill you,’ he said. There was no tone in his voice, no sense of threat as such. It was like he was stating a fact. The temperature today may reach forty-five degrees. Australia is an island continent. You touch my sister and I’ll kill you. It made it all the more scary. One kid even took a step back.

  The girl – Xena? – took a step forward instead and held up her hand.

  ‘Easy soldier,’ she said. ‘Huge cojones, I’ll give you that, but your brain’s nowhere near as big.’ That made all the others laugh. I didn’t even know what cojones were. ‘Brother and sister, huh?’ She put her face right up close to Aiden’s and examined him as if in search of clues. Then she did the same with me. ‘Wow!’ She whistled. ‘Twins. Something you don’t see every day.’