The Spite Game

PROLOGUE

2018

I know what you’ll want. My confession. Plain and simple, just the facts. That isn’t how this is going to work. If you want me to confess, then you’ll have to listen to the whole thing. My story. I need you to understand what has led me here to this small concrete interview room, waiting for you to come and take my statement. This isn’t where I thought I’d end up.

First, I want to tell you about what I was like before any of it started, back when I was just a normal seventeen-year-old girl. If such a thing is even possible. I’m going to tell you about that regular Sunday night at home with my mum and my sister.

I think of it as regular, because the details have blurred with time. They have lost their sharpness in contrast to all that came after. At the time though, there were things that stood out from the mundane. Like my mother’s eyes. She had done a double shift at the hospital, and they were redder than usual. Being a nurse she was used to death, we knew that, so it must have been something particularly bad for her to cry by herself in the car before coming inside.

My sister, Beatrice, made her a cup of tea. I put on the radio and we told her we would make dinner. Standing in our small kitchen, Bea sautéed the garlic and I deseeded a red chili. It was a hot night, really hot. That was irregular too. It was early March 2008. The heat had usually blown out of Melbourne by March, our shorts and summer dresses long packed away. But the heat had lingered that year. I wasn’t wearing shoes and the cracked kitchen tiles were rough under the soles of my bare feet. We had the windows open, letting the sizzling smell of the curry we were making spill out into the street.

We ate dinner and Mum cheered up. I remember wondering how she did that. How she managed to draw a line between home and work, how she could hold someone’s hand as they screamed in pain and then come home and eat curry and laugh.

After dinner, we watched the news. Mum in her armchair, Bea and I sharing the couch. She had her bare feet up on my lap, and every so often I’d push them off, but they’d always find their way back there. I wasn’t really watching the news anchor on the television drone on about the Global Financial Crisis. I was thinking back over the day. It was only a few weeks into year twelve then. Everyone had come back from the summer with stories of holiday romances and new tans. Not me. Already, at school I was like a shadow. Always watching, listening, but never quite part of anything. There were three girls in particular that I watched, and I often spent my evenings wondering what they were doing.

Later, in our bedroom, Bea fell asleep before I did. She was two years older than me, but ever since she’d been diagnosed with epilepsy, I was always checking on her. Lying in the dark, I listened to the sound of next door’s television. We lived in a terrace house in the inner city suburb of Clifton Hill. The walls were like paper and you could hear everything. That was normal; I was used to the constant hum of noise. Rolling onto my side to turn off the reading light, I stared at the reassuring line of Bea’s body under the sheet and easily fell asleep.

When I woke, it was very quiet. The neighbour’s television was off. I couldn’t see Bea anymore. There was something in the way. Tilting my face on my pillow, I looked up at a shadow of a man. He was standing over my single bed. The streetlight shone through the open window, lighting up his face. He was staring down at me, a baseball bat in his hand. We locked eyes for a moment before I began to scream.

You won’t want to hear all this. It’s getting late. You might have someone to go home to, a husband or a wife maybe. You’ll just want to cut straight to the facts. You’ll want to know where she is. The missing woman. Melissa Moore. Mel. You’ll want to know where she has gone and whether I had something to do with it. Of course I did. We both know that already. That’s why I’m here.

Part 1

LACK OF EMPATHY

2008

1

It began in the change room. The bodies of sweaty adolescent girls, the steam of the showers and the intensity of emotions gave the room a living pulse. The bad thing inside me took root there. Like mould, it grew in that hot, moist place.

The change room always stank of sweat and strawberry body spray. I slipped my T-shirt over my head, and then slid my sports top off from underneath. Ignoring the squeaks of rubber soles against the wet floors and the cackles and chides of the girls around me, I tried to tune my ears into the conversation going on in the corner. I only caught snippets.

…so filthy.

…bet her bush was poking out the sides and…

…pervert…really, Mel…

I sneaked a glance. Cass and Saanvi leaned against the wall, decked out in their oversize Doc Marten boots, undersized flannel dresses and thick black stockings. Mel reclined in the corner in just her boots, bra and underwear, braiding a piece of her hair.

Other girls begun disbanding.

See you later!

See you in English.

Bye.

I could hear them clearly now. Cass’s soft voice: She kept trying to demonstrate how to do a jump serve right in front of my face.

That’s disgusting.

Come on, it’s almost showtime. Saanvi threw Mel her dress. She tucked the braid behind her ear and pulled it on.

They whispered something I couldn’t hear, and laughed, their eyes darting around the change room. I look around too. Almost everyone had gone. The only girl left aside from us was Miranda. She fumbled with something in her bag, her wide back to us. Really, she was just waiting to get changed. There was no way she would risk exposing the rolls of fat on her stomach if anyone else was there, not after what happened last time.

Throwing my PE clothes into my backpack, I walked out of the change room before they noticed me. In high school, eavesdropping was a cardinal sin. Out on the oval, the sun glinted off the wet grass. It must have rained. Summer was long gone; it had been three months since I’d woken to the man standing over my bed. He had run off when I screamed, back through the living room window. The frame had been rotted ever since we moved in, and like most of the other windows in our house, the lock didn’t work. Mum had been on at the landlords for years to fix those locks. It was the last straw. We were moving in a couple of weeks. At home, most of my clothes were packed into boxes.

Not that it mattered. I wore the same thin grey hooded jacket every day. I’d pull the sleeves down over my hands and constantly fiddle with the drawstrings. I washed my hair every day and didn’t think to use any product, so I always looked a bit fluffy, like a newborn chicken. Skirts or shorts were out of the equation because I still hadn’t quite mastered shaving my legs. Somehow I would always both nick myself and miss bits, so my calves were a mix of tiny cuts around the ankles and sparse, furry patches down the back.

What I want to explain to you is that Mel, Cass and Saanvi were in a different league to me. It wasn’t a popularity thing. They weren’t the queen bees of the school or anything like that, although compared to me they may as well have been. No, it wasn’t popularity that I craved. There was something luminescent about the three of them. They were the sort of teenage girls who knew their power and potential. I had no idea what I was doing and was painfully aware of it. Just watching them— and daydreaming of the kind of girl I could be if I was their friend—that was as close as I ever thought I’d get.

I’d paused, only for a moment, to smell the wet grass and zip up my hoodie, when a hand gripped my arm.

If anyone comes in, you stop them, okay, Ava? Saanvi was beside me, talking in a loud whisper. I could smell something sugary on her hot breath.

What? This was the first time she’d ever spoken to me.

Don’t let anyone in! she hissed, then, Idiot! as she turned back into the change room.

I hovered in the doorway. A few stragglers skittered towards the gym, but no one even looked up. A tiny smile tugged at my lips. She knew my name, which meant Mel and Cass probably did too. Maybe I wasn’t as invisible as I always felt. She’d called me an idiot, but somehow that didn’t bother me. I’d prefer to be an idiot than no one.

It was silent behind me, and my view was obscured by a row of lockers. I had no idea what I’d do if anyone tried to get past me, or what they were doing that was so secret that no one could see. I took a quiet step back to look behind the lockers. Inside the change room, Mel, Cass and Saanvi were hiding in one of the showers, all squashed together and covering their mouths with their hands to stop from laughing. Miranda was still in her spot in the farthest corner; she couldn’t see them from there. She thought everyone had left. Her top came off over her head, revealing her pale doughy torso.

She looked up, as though she could feel that someone was watching her. I ducked back out of view to the doorway, worried she might catch me looking.

Still, no one was around. No one to challenge me or try to squeeze past. I was going to be late to maths class. I didn’t really want to be a part of whatever they were about to do, but also I didn’t want them thinking that I was too much of a scaredy-cat to stick it out. The indecision made me freeze, hovering with one foot forward.

The idea of going back in and stopping it didn’t even occur to me.

A scream echoed its way towards me. It was followed by a chorus of shrieking laughter. I couldn’t help turning back again, although a big part of me really didn’t want to see. Cass and Saanvi were throwing wet-looking grey lumps at Miranda, who was desperately trying to cover her body. Mel had her hand over her mouth in shock, but underneath her hand I could see a smile.

One of the lumps splattered a few metres away from me. It was a piece of mashed-up Chiko Roll, the meat and bits of carrot shiny with oil.

Oink! Oink! Oink! chanted Saanvi and Cass.

Stop it, guys! Mel protested, a laugh in her voice.

The three girls ran towards me. Mel grabbed my arm.

Come on!

I took one look back at Miranda, cowering and smeared with mashed-up meat, before I was pulled away with them.

Cass and Saanvi exploded with laughter as we ran towards the main school.

That was so mean! said Mel.

Fuck off, Saanvi said, you loved it!

We stopped at the doors to catch our breath.

You won’t tell, will you? Cass fixed her big eyes on me.

Of course she won’t! Mel let go of my arm and grinned at me.

I shook my head.

Nah, I won’t say anything.

Better not. Saanvi flung her bag over her shoulder and the three of them walked away.

See ya! Mel called back, looking over her shoulder at me.

I knew what I had to do, but I waited for there to be a few metres between us. Then, I jogged back towards the gym. My stomach was knotting with guilt.

When I reached the entrance to the girl’s change room, I hesitated. My face was hot from running, and my ears cold. Slowly, I stepped inside, already fidgeting with the drawstring of my hoodie. With the fresh air in my nostrils, the stink of stale sweat and meat was revolting.

For a second I thought that maybe she’d gone. But no. One of the showers was running, and, just faintly, I could hear the sound of crying. I stood in the middle of the change room, frozen. Should I knock, ask if she was okay? Or would that just humiliate her more? The image popped in my head again, of her naked flesh smeared with oily meat and chunks of vegetables. I turned and walked back out towards my maths class. I told myself it was the nicest thing to do, but deep down I knew that wasn’t it. I knew that I wasn’t giving her privacy because I pitied her.

Deep down, I was disgusted by her weakness. Deep down, I didn’t even care, and that scared me.

2

Do you want a glass of water or anything?

The cop from the front desk is standing in the doorway of the interview room, staring at me. Behind him, it’s bright. I can see the bustling station, police in uniform bent over desks or answering phones, detectives in suits walking swiftly, their backs stiff with self-importance. Not like in here, with its dull fluorescent lights and one small window.

When he’d led me through that office, one of the policewomen had looked up from her paperwork. She’d given me what seemed to be a reassuring smile. I’d gaped at her. It took a second to click. She’d clocked my small frame. My thick-lashed eyes. She thought I was a victim. It was almost funny.

I’m okay. Do you know how long the detective will be?

He shrugs. Hard to say. Today has been nonstop.

Is this a ploy? I don’t understand. Have you sent him in here to sound me out? Or maybe he’s offering me water in the hope of getting my DNA off the glass? I’ve seen them doing things like that before in cop shows. I thought it was just an overused trope by lazy disenchanted screenwriters, but now I wonder if it’s something that really happens.

Sure you don’t want anything? I’m sure I could scrounge up a tea bag from somewhere. There’s coffee too, if you’re game.

The guy is probably only a year or so older than me. He’s being pleasant enough, but I want him to go. I don’t want to play these games. It doesn’t have to be complicated. I want to talk. I want to explain it all, to make you understand. I’ve been weak before. That time in the change room with Miranda, I was spineless. Not being liked seemed as though it would be the worst thing in the world.

For once in my life I want to do the right thing.

I’m fine, I tell the cop, and he shrugs again.

I could still run. I could push past him, say I got mixed up. Made a mistake. That I don’t know anything about Mel. That I have no idea where she is. I could give in to that weakness one last time.

Well, thanks for your patience, he’s saying now.

All I can do is look past him at the light as he gives me one last lukewarm smile and pulls the door closed. The light and sounds of the station are snuffed out. I’m alone again in the gloom.

Twisting in my chair, I stare up at the window. The sky is a pale blue. I watch the grey clouds inch across it. Time feels meaningless in here.

I’m in the right place. I’m sure of it. As hard as this is going to be it’s got to be easier than the last few weeks have been. I haven’t been able to eat. I’ve had nightmares every night. My skin is turning grey. I look pinched.

Still, I should have said something when I left this morning. That’s my only regret. I’d said I was going to a meeting with the contractors. That it might run late. I didn’t want to lie; I’ve told more lies than truths in the last ten years and I wanted today to be the end of all that. But I couldn’t say that I was coming here. If I had, I would have had to explain why. What happened. I only have it in me to tell this story once.

I’d started to feel carsick by the time we got there. We’d been driving through solid bushland for more than an hour before we reached those big ugly gates from the brochure. Lakeside Estate was written in block letters on the wall next to them.

Beautiful, I said.

It is, my mum said.

She’s being sarcastic, Bea told her.

I can tell.

The wall went farther than I could see. All the way around the estate and back to here. Locking us in. My mum pressed the intercom and told them our surname. Only the sound of static replied to her. She keyed in a code and there was a loud buzz. We drove inside.

I don’t know what I had been expecting, but it sure wasn’t this. I’d realised then why my mum had got the house so cheap. The gated community wasn’t even complete yet. As we drove up the hill she told us that the company had gone bankrupt, which had put a halt on the building. She said it would be finished; they just didn’t know when.

Even though the sun was out, it was cold outside. It bounced off the concrete, making us all squint. The hollow convenience store looked as though it was the first to be built; it stood beside the skeletons of a primary school and community centre. We drove past a deep brown basin. I guessed that was meant to be the lake. A group of crows scavenged at the overturned soil.

Paradise, I said.

Not helpful, said my mum.

I looked back in time to see the gates shut and lock behind us.

As we got farther up the hill, the houses started to look more completed. There must have been at least a few other people living here, but I didn’t see anyone. There weren’t even any other cars around.

Inside, our new house was empty. Just freshly painted white walls and cream carpet that smelled of plastic. I followed Bea up the stairs.

My room! she called. I walked hesitantly past it to the next door. Opening the door, I could see my new room was a small white box. Claustrophobic, even without furniture. The sun shone through the blinds, casting strange black shadows across the room, like bars.

Girls, come and help me with the boxes! my mum yelled from downstairs.

Later, while my mum cooked dinner, Bea and I tried to put together her bed. It felt strange to have separate rooms.

Are you going to miss me at night? I asked.

Yeah, sure, she said, struggling to turn an Allen key. You know, finally I have a place I can bring boys back to and now we are in the middle of nowhere!

What boys? She’d broken up with her boyfriend six months ago.

I dunno, she said, just hypothetical boys.

I’m sure you can find some sexy locals.

Yeah, right.

Where does this bit go? I held up a long piece of wood.

She sighed and put the Allen key down. I have no idea.

I looked up at the window. Hey, look, I said, there are lights on.

She stood up and leaned against the window frame, out into the estate.

I’ll just sleep on the mattress tonight. I can’t be bothered to finish this right now.

I got up to stand next to her. Three of the houses glowed in the blackness. I rested my head on her shoulder.

It’ll be fine, I said.

You’re the little sister. I’m meant to say that to you.

Go on, then.

She put her arm around me and I breathed in her comforting Beatrice smell, but she didn’t say anything.

3

At 5:30 a.m., my alarm went off. I lay there, staring into the abyss of black in front of me. My body started to fall through the mattress and I shook myself awake again. Every part of me was begging to go back to sleep.

Outside, the air smelled light and wet. It was still dark. Closing the door quietly behind me I walked down through the estate, treading lightly, trying not to make a sound. They hadn’t even put in the streetlamps yet. The black was thick and rich around me. In this darkness, anything could happen. Someone could be watching me from just a few metres away and I wouldn’t have known it. I knew I had to stop thinking like that. This was a safe place—that’s why we were here.

I walked for a full ten minutes before I could even see the gates. They were open by just an inch; you wouldn’t notice from a distance. Someone had escaped. Or someone had got in.

Waiting on the side of the road at the bus stop, I resisted the urge to look behind me at the trees. It was too dark to see much, but I knew that the bush there was deep and impenetrable. Rows and rows of thin white trunks. I’d seen so many horror films about people being murdered in bush like that. Of running forever but always being caught eventually. I kept my back to it.

Staring at my feet, I felt like a sitting duck out there in the dark. I prayed that no cars would come by. We’d learned about Ivan Milat at school, the way he picked up hitchhikers from the side of the road and the next people knew of them was when their bones were tripped over in the bush. By the time the bus arrived, I was shaking. My fingers were numb and pink.

The bus driver nodded hello as I boarded. There was only one other passenger, a man in a crumpled suit asleep in the back row. The heater hummed softly. I took off my coat and leaned against the window, letting the heat and vibrations of the bus calm me. My mum had wanted me to change schools; she said it was too far to travel every day. I would have considered it, if it hadn’t been for what had happened in the change room. If Mel and Cass and Saanvi hadn’t started saying hi to me in the corridor. I was so close.

I should have felt triumphant for making it onto the bus, but my mind was too tired to even think in the warm, dark silence. The wheels revolved, pulling me back to where I belonged.

The bush turned to suburbs as the sun rose. When we reached the city, the bus was full.

Have you ever heard of dream hypnosis?

Nah, what’s that?

I’ll show you.

The sound of snickering and then the warmth of breath on my ear. I knew who it was. Theodore. I always found him annoying and kind of smug. He was always loud in class, even though he had nothing funny to say. He thought he was better looking than he really was, and was always finding an excuse to display his pierced nipple just so he could pull up his T-shirt and show everyone his unimpressive abs. I was fairly sure Mel had a crush on him though, she always laughed at everything he said.

You are a big, sexy monkey. A tiny flick of his spit hit my ear. When you wake up you will strip off your clothes.

You wish, I said, forcing my sleep-sticky eyes open. Theodore pulled away.

You’re so mean, Theo, Mel said, slapping his shoulder playfully.

Science class. I always sat at the workbench behind Mel and Theodore’s. Usually they didn’t talk to me.

Why so tired? Theodore eyed me. "Up partying