Cold Skin

  But, for now, it’s evidence.

  Five hundred pounds worth of evidence.

  Eddie

  I tell Sally everything.

  My dad, Mr Paley and Colleen.

  She holds my hand and listens.

  Sergeant Grainger will ask me

  what went on at the bridge.

  What can I say?

  How can I face my dad again?

  After what he did!

  What will I tell Mum and Larry?

  What if Mrs Paley comes up to me in town

  and thanks me for trying to save her husband?

  That’s when it hits me . . .

  I wasn’t just thinking of Mr Paley.

  When I came out of the bush,

  I could see Dad

  standing on the other side of the river,

  smoking a fag

  and watching.

  I knew then

  that if the train hit Mr Paley

  it would kill my dad,

  sooner or later.

  I was trying to save Dad

  but he didn’t want to be saved.

  Eddie

  We make our way down from the hill,

  across the paddocks to the bridge.

  The river glides below.

  ‘No matter how fast I ran,

  it wouldn’t have helped.

  Mr Paley knew there was no chance.’

  Sally reaches for my hand.

  I kick a stone over the edge

  and wait to hear it drop into the water.

  A long way down.

  ‘What Dad did was . . .’

  A torchlight shines in my face

  and I step in front of Sally,

  shielding my eyes.

  Sergeant Grainger’s voice calls,

  ‘Sorry, Eddie. It’s me and Mr Carter.

  Sally’s parents were worried,

  so I said we’d find her.’

  He switches off the light

  and I can make out two figures

  standing on the riverbank.

  ‘Don’t worry, Sally.

  I told them you were with Eddie.

  You were safe.’

  Mr Carter adds,

  ‘Eddie. Why don’t you come down and talk to us.

  That bridge gives me the creeps.’

  There won’t be a train until dawn

  so I motion for Sally to sit with me

  on the railway track.

  There are two men now as witness.

  My words come slowly.

  ‘Mr Paley was roped to the bridge this afternoon

  because of what he did to Colleen.

  He came here because he was guilty.’

  Please, let that be the truth.

  ‘He asked me to forgive him

  and I wished I had time to,

  before the train . . .

  before it was too late.’

  Dark clouds press down on Jaspers Hill.

  ‘So I want to say

  that I forgive Mr Paley

  because there’s nothing more

  that can be done for him.’

  Both men are as silent as death.

  My heart pounds wildly

  and I press my hand hard to my chest.

  ‘Someone else was here.

  Someone who knew about Colleen.’

  I hear footsteps and see Dad

  walking along the bridge.

  ‘I thought I’d find you here,’ he says.

  My legs start to shake.

  I don’t know whether to run towards him

  or away.

  Albert Holding

  On a railway bridge,

  in the middle of the night.

  It’s as good a place as any

  to tell them what I know.

  ‘Fatty was drunk last Friday

  and he wandered out of the pub.

  He bumped into me

  and I wanted to deck him,

  then and there.

  But he was the mayor.

  And me,

  I’m just some bloke who went to war,

  and didn’t see any fighting.

  I wasted my time driving trucks

  while Paley got fat and rich.’

  I look at Eddie,

  hoping he’ll understand.

  ‘I was gonna knock Fatty down

  and take his money,

  the money he does nothing to earn,

  sitting pretty up in his office

  while the rest of us work.

  Anyway, I followed him.

  He stumbled along,

  pissed as a parrot.

  I’d had a few myself

  and I needed to take a leak,

  which made me lose sight of him.

  So I sat down

  and thought better of what I was doing.

  Yeah, maybe I was spineless.

  Afraid to take on Fatty Paley,

  even when we’re both stonkered.

  Then I saw him stagger out of the bush.

  He looked scared as hell,

  cursing to himself.

  So I went down the track.

  That’s when I saw the girl.

  Colleen.

  I knelt beside her.

  It was too late.

  Fatty was running home by now

  as fast as his jelly legs could take him.

  And I thought that if I told my story,

  well, who would you believe?

  Come on, Sargeant,

  who would you believe?’

  Only the river answers,

  muttering darkly over the rocks.

  ‘I thought I’d give it a week.

  Fatty would break

  and start blubbering to you, Sarge.

  But he was a coward,

  right to the end.’

  Eddie

  Dad’s shoulders drop

  and he rubs his hands roughly over his face,

  shaking his head.

  I move towards him,

  my arms ready if he needs me.

  ‘It’s over, Dad.’

  He looks up,

  and says,

  ‘No. Not yet.’

  He speaks to the men on the bank.

  ‘I told Fatty he had a choice.

  Either turn himself in,

  or meet me here

  and face the consequences.

  That’s what I said to him.

  I gave him a few hours to think about it.

  I didn’t think he’d show.

  And do you know what he did?’

  Dad clenches his fists,

  and thumps his chest hard,

  pushing the words out.

  ‘He offered me money!

  Five hundred pounds to forget about it.’

  Christ almighty.

  Five hundred pounds!

  What man has that much money?

  To buy the life of Frank’s daughter!’

  Dad takes a step forward,

  looking down at the surging water.

  He stiffens and shouts at Sergeant Grainger,

  ‘I tied the rope around his neck,

  and through this sleeper here.

  An army knot.

  I knew Fatty wouldn’t have the guts.

  So I gave him no choice.

  I helped him do what he couldn’t do alone.’

  Mr Carter

  Pete touches my arm,

  indicates we should leave,

  without response.

  We sleepwalk down the track towards town,

  not using the torch.

  Let the surrounding bush conceal us.

  We stop at the sandy beach

  where we found Colleen

  and sit for a moment.

  I say,

  ‘He was telling the truth.’

  Pete reaches down to retie his shoelaces,

  giving himself time to think.

  ‘Thank Christ Albert didn’t take the money.’

  I look at the scallop s
hapes

  of too many footprints in the white sand.

  It’s a sin to lie,

  but I pray He’ll understand.

  ‘On Monday, the front page will read,

  “Mayor commits suicide”.’

  It won’t stop people from talking,

  but at least,

  on record,

  we’ll have a version we can all live with.

  I’m going to print a falsehood.

  ‘Tomorrow is Sunday, Pete.

  Let Albert spend it with his family.

  You can arrest him, Monday morning,

  after The Guardian is out.

  Paley jumped.

  Albert just gave him the courage.’

  Eddie

  Dad sags to his knees

  and looks over the edge of the bridge

  at the moon-slick water.

  ‘Take Sally home, Eddie.

  Don’t let her parents worry any longer.’

  There’s nothing more I can say,

  it’s all twisted and wrenched out of me.

  Dad will always feel the rope in his hands,

  cutting through the skin,

  leaving a red welt.

  No matter what he does from now on

  the blemish will be there.

  A mark that no rain can wash off.

  No soap,

  no work on the farm,

  no coaldust smeared across,

  no cigarette stain will hide.

  Mr Paley jumped today

  and so did Dad.

  Eddie

  Mr Holmes is sitting on his front step

  when we turn into his street.

  He rushes to the gate.

  Sally kisses me, quickly, on the cheek.

  Mr Holmes nods.

  ‘Thanks for bringing her home, Eddie.’

  He puts his arm around Sally

  as they walk up the stairs.

  Next-door the Paley house is dark,

  windows and doors shut tight,

  heavy curtains drawn.

  No smoke rises from the chimney.

  The man responsible waits at the bridge.

  His blood is my blood.

  He found Colleen,

  touched her lifeless body.

  Did he reach down and close her eyes?

  He could have gone to Sergeant Grainger

  and told him what he knew.

  But he left her there,

  for someone else to find.

  My father walked around for days and did nothing.

  He ate dinner with us.

  Drank at the pub.

  He slept beside Mum.

  And told no one.

  Did nothing until this.

  I run to Sally’s Spot as fast as I can,

  tripping over the fence

  and landing on my knees,

  the breath punched out of me.

  When I reach the bank,

  I rip my boots off,

  leave my clothes in a pile

  and jump into the darkness,

  reaching blindly for the rope.

  Fingers grip and hold on

  as I swing out to midstream,

  the river silent below,

  waiting.

  The branch strains with my weight.

  The strongest boy in town.

  My father.

  The man who went off in uniform

  and came home angry, bitter,

  blaming Larry and me for his failure.

  No more!

  I wrap my legs tight around the rope

  and climb higher,

  swinging harder and harder,

  faster and further,

  the branch groaning.

  ‘No more!’ I scream.

  Suddenly the branch splits like a rifle crack

  as I’m swinging back to shore.

  I let go,

  my arms flapping like a hopeless boxer.

  The sword grass is cold, sharp

  and it cuts my arms as I land.

  His skin is my skin.

  The branch floats in the water,

  rope twirling behind like a snake.

  How can I begin to accept all this?

  EIGHT

  The miner

  Mr Butcher

  The news is all across town.

  Mr Peabody, the headmaster, can’t shut up.

  ‘Brave Eddie.’

  He wants to make him honorary school captain.

  He didn’t even blink

  when I handed him my resignation.

  Grainger hasn’t bothered to apologise

  for his completely unjustified suspicions.

  Frankly, I can’t wait to start packing.

  Any town that celebrates

  the likes of Eddie Holding

  is not where I want to stay.

  Here’s the hero now,

  strolling in late to class with Sally.

  I expected more from her.

  Everyone stands when Holding walks to his desk.

  This is too much.

  ‘Sit down. All of you.

  We only stand when an adult enters.

  Not a mere boy.’

  Holding packs everything from the desk

  into his bag.

  ‘We’re waiting, Holding.’

  He closes the desk,

  picks up the inkwell in his big hand

  and walks towards me.

  He says,

  ‘There’s a vacancy at the mine.

  They offered it to me.’

  ‘Well. It’s where you belong.

  Out of sight, out of mind.’

  He plonks the inkwell hard on my desk,

  leans over and addresses me.

  ‘Sorry to hear you’re leaving, Sir.’

  Larry Holding scoffs and waves to his brother.

  Sally starts to walk out with Holding.

  ‘Where are you going, young lady?’

  The insolent girl doesn’t even bother to face me.

  She says,

  ‘I’ll come back when the new teacher arrives.’

  This town really is unbearable.

  My fob watch says lunchtime.

  My patience says it’s over.

  ‘This class is dismissed.’

  Larry

  Geez, Butcher’s face was a sight

  as Eddie and Sally walked out.

  When he gave us the afternoon off

  I was the first out the door.

  I ran after Eddie

  and slapped him on the back.

  ‘Thanks, brother.’

  Half the town is calling Eddie a hero

  and the other half are saying the same about Dad.

  Mrs Kain didn’t charge me for the milk

  this morning.

  She said,

  ‘Your father did a bloody good thing, son.

  How could anyone hurt that young girl?’

  I should have asked for a chocolate as well.

  How could Paley expect any girl

  to be interested in him?

  He always was a peacock,

  parading round like he owned the town.

  It beats me how Grainger can charge Dad

  with anything but doing a public service.

  Maybe my family aren’t such no-hopers after all.

  Sergeant Grainger

  I’ve waited a while to walk to the Holding place.

  It’s a small town,

  everyone knew the truth

  well before The Guardian hit the streets.

  Albert is out back by his woodpile.

  He stands to meet me.

  ‘I’ve chopped enough for a few winters.’

  He almost smiles but doesn’t quite make it.

  ‘How many clues did you need, Sarge?

  Before you twigged.’

  All night I looked through my books

  searching, and finding, a lesser charge.

  I’ve tried kidding myself it’s for Albert.

&
nbsp; And Eddie.

  But, really,

  it’s because I’m guilty

  of not doing my job quick enough.

  ‘You ever think of trusting somebody, Albert?’

  A man died and he had a hand in it.

  Albert shrugs and says,

  ‘Did you read the paper, Sarge?’

  It doesn’t change anything and he knows it.

  ‘What’s a fair price, Albert,

  for Fatty being drunk

  and having tickets on himself with a young girl?’

  He drops the axe at his feet.

  ‘I was looking for someone to blame.

  Fatty got in the way.’

  He takes a deep slow breath.

  My hand rests on his shoulder.

  ‘There’s talk of the miners

  raising bail for you, Albert.’

  He shakes his head,

  ‘Tell ’em to give the money

  to the O’Connors’ instead.’

  He reaches down to pick up a stack of firewood

  and starts to carry it inside.

  ‘I’ll just be a minute with the wife.’

  I watch him walk away,

  the words of Mr Carter, last night,

  echoing in my head.

  If you don’t look at what’s in front of you,

  you get overrun from behind.

  Larry

  When I get home early

  Mum is in the kitchen, crying.

  I stand at the door

  like a prize dill

  wondering what to do next.

  Mum gets up and puts the kettle on.

  ‘We spent years waiting for your father.’

  She leans against the bench,

  her eyes wide and unblinking,

  her shoulders bowed.

  ‘And now we’re going do it all again!’

  She reaches for the cups,

  her hands shaking.

  I rush to her side

  and take them from her,

  placing them on the table.

  ‘Steady on, Mum.

  We’ve only got one set of crockery, you know.’

  When I’m forced to write an essay,

  it’s easy enough to fill a page

  with some bullshit story.

  And, unlike my brother,

  I used homework as an excuse

  for getting out of just about everything–

  the washing up,

  the wood-splitting,

  fishing for dinner.

  That can’t keep happening.