The silence that hung in the room was pierced by the sound of a siren from the street outside.It wasn’t a common sound in Carrinya.
‘Hey, Nel!’Farris called out.She turned to look at him despite her better instincts.‘That’s the cops.They’re coming for you.’
His mates cracked up.She sat paralysed for a moment, then she ran from the room and didn’t stop until she reached the refuge of the girls’toilets.She went into the furthest cubicle, slammed the door, locking it behind her, and sat on the toilet seat, bent in half as huge heaving sobs shook her body.She held her face in her hands.She’d stay there all day, she told herself, until after the last bell went and all those arseholes had fucked off home.
After a few minutes, the crying stopped.She stayed bent over, motionless, listening to herself breathe.In and out.In and out.In and out.
When she eventually uncurled herself and sat up, her eyes were drawn to the angry, black words graffitied on the back of the door.Black block letters as tall as her palm, dwarfing the other inscriptions there, the declarations of love and attempted witticisms.
NEL FOLEY IS A KILLER.
*
Nel gasped, winded by the memory, so sudden and visceral.She moved to the desk and lowered herself into the chair.
For two years, until she left town, Troy Farris was everywhere she went.He had a toy police car with a piercing siren that he sounded whenever she was in earshot.In class.In the playground.In the street.In the supermarket with her mum.Even one night when they were celebrating Rob’s birthday at Romeo’s Italian.She’d heard that ear-splitting sound and looked around.Sure enough, there was his stupid face looking back at her from a few tables away.
That night, she’d decided she wouldn’t go anywhere other than school.Not even to the baby shower Lauren’s friends had planned.Nel could still picture her sister’s face, all these years later, indignant and angry.
During those two lonely years, all Nel did was study.She set her sights on getting into undergraduate medicine at UNSW.Everyonewarned her it was virtually impossible, but it was a convenient goal, given the harassment she faced every time she left the sanctuary of her bedroom.She printed out a picture of the campus—a sprawling lawn surrounded by serious-looking buildings, where students sat in groups or walked in pairs—and would picture herself there surrounded by strangers.
She thought of Troy Farris again.Why had he made it his mission to harass her?Had Ryan put him up to it?Possibly.He was mates with Troy’s older brothers.Or was it just for kicks?Even now, all these years later, whenever she heard a siren she felt like a criminal.
She rubbed her face and took a deep breath.Suddenly the room felt suffocating.She grabbed her bag.
Chapter 10
Nel put on her dark sunglasses and stepped out onto Manning Street, still shaken by the memory.She wasn’t sure where she was going, but she stopped outside The Larder, a little cafe a block and a half down the road.As she read the menu in the window, which included a halloumi burger and a superfood salad, it struck her how much the town had changed in the years she’d been away.Back then, there was only one cafe in town that made a decent coffee.Now they had four types of milk.
She waited at the counter as a guy with a thick moustache ground coffee beans.She could smell pumpkin soup.
‘Sorry for the wait,’ he said.‘What can I get you?’
She ordered the soup to go.
‘Name for the order?’
‘Nel,’ she said.
A blonde woman sitting nearby looked up, narrowing her eyes and pausing for a fraction too long.Nel recognised her from school.
‘Haven’t seen you round here,’ the barista said, projecting his voice over the sound of frothing milk.‘You new in town or just visiting?’
‘I’m … just visiting,’ Nel said, still distracted by the woman who was now leaning forward to whisper something to her friend.Jen Henry!That was her name.She was older, obviously, and her lipstickwas an unflattering shade of pink, but it was definitely her.The friend looked up at Nel, wide-eyed, then away again quickly.Nel’s skin prickled with the all-too-familiar feeling of being talked about.
‘What brings you to town?’the barista said.
‘I’m just …’
She hesitated, unsure how to answer, conscious that Jen and her friend were listening to every word, but then the barista snapped his fingers and pointed at her.
‘Wait, you’re the new doctor!’
‘Oh.’She laughed nervously.‘Yeah, that’s right.’
‘Dave,’ he said, putting down the jug and extending his hand.‘Sorry about your old man, hey.’
‘Thanks.’She gave him a tight smile.There was a ding from the kitchen.He turned to collect her soup from the window and put it in a paper bag.
