Page 23 of The Family Across the Street
‘Then don’t you have his mobile number?’
‘I ah… no.’
‘I’m afraid I cannot give out personal numbers for staff. Thank you,’ says the voice, and she efficiently hangs up.
Gladys turns to Lou and says, ‘If he didn’t go to work today, then where is he?’
‘At home, maybe,’ suggests Lou.
‘But he left this morning, you said so. If he’d come home again, we would have heard, and why would he have come home again in the middle of the day?’
Her husband shrugs his shoulders. ‘He did leave very quickly and he made a lot of noise and I thought… I thought…’
‘You thought what?’ asks Gladys, trying to hide her impatience at his trailing off in the middle of a sentence.
‘Heavens, Gladys, I’ve just remembered he came back. He did, he came back about ten minutes later and I thought, “What’s he doing home again?” I heard the garage door go up. I heard his car pull into the driveway. He came back, Gladys, I just forgot.’
‘Oh, Lou,’ she says gently, ‘why didn’t you say so?’
‘I forgot, love, just forgot until right now. I mean it’s not something we usually pay attention to, is it? I’m sorry.’ He is apologising again and she doesn’t like to hear it. Strangely, she prefers it when he’s gruff. It means he’s feeling more like his old self.
She sighs. ‘It’s not your fault, it’s just… things feel so strange today.’ She frowns, crossing her arms. ‘So how long did he stay after he came back? Is he still there?’
Lou turns to stare at her, the look on his face telling her he’s bewildered by her question.
‘I don’t know,’ he says, ‘I must have drifted off again.’ He turns back to the television. ‘I’m sure it’s nothing, love. We’re making a mountain out of a… molehill, that’s it. It’s nothing. They’re just having a day at home.’
‘I really don’t think so,’ says Gladys, standing up. She goes to the window, looks out onto the quiet street where nothing moves in the heat. Even the lorikeets have found some place out of the sun to sleep away the day.
She looks at her phone. Does one call the police because they are worried about a neighbour simply because her husband is not at work and the children haven’t gone to school?
Lou watches her quietly. ‘Look, maybe they had a tiff and they’re sorting it out now. Maybe she decided to keep the kids home from school because of the heat. Any number of things could have happened. I say we watch one of those crime series you like, the one with the doctor, you know. What about that, old girl?’
Gladys turns to stare at the television, where a new kind of mattress is being advertised. Lou is right. No one ever appreciates a visit from the police. But that’s what they’re there for, to maintain law and order. It’s not as if she calls them that often. She didn’t call them after the little incident yesterday. She wanted to, but she didn’t.
A news break comes on and the story of the young woman who was attacked in Melbourne is the headline. ‘The twenty-five-year-old woman assaulted two days ago is in an induced coma in Melbourne’s Footscray Hospital. Neighbours report hearing arguing in the days prior to the assault.’
Do you hear that? she thinks. They heard them arguing and did nothing and now look at that poor girl, look what’s happened to her. People are so quick to recommend you keep your nose out of their business but what if they need help? What if they really need help? She doesn’t say any of this to Lou because there’s no point. She tunes back into what the dark-haired reporter on the television is saying.
‘Police are appealing to the public to help identify and locate this man, last seen leaving the apartment on the night of the assault.’
A grainy image of a young man in a red baseball cap is shown leaving the building on the CCTV.
‘That could be anyone,’ says Lou.
‘Yes,’ agrees Gladys, although there is something about him that looks vaguely familiar. She has no idea why.
A stern-looking policeman appears on the television, his hat shading his eyes from the sun. ‘All we are asking for is help in locating this individual. We can neither confirm nor deny his involvement in the assault of the young lady. We are hoping he will come forward himself to assist police with their enquiries.’
‘Good thing he’s not here in Sydney,’ says Lou.
‘Yes,’ agrees Gladys, ‘a very good thing. That poor girl.’
It’s strange that the man on the television seems familiar. She shakes her head. Maybe the heat is getting to her despite the air conditioning. As the news changes to another story, the image of the man on the television lingers. Just like the problem of Katherine’s silent house and what on earth she should do about it.
11
I was surprised by how easy it was to get a gun. An illegal one. A legal gun requires far too much paperwork and you need to use it for hunting or you have to be a member of a gun club, or a whole lot of other things that I would never have been able to lie about. I never imagined that I would know people involved in a world where illegal guns could be procured. It came up in conversation one night at a bar. ‘If I could, I would just shoot him in the head,’ my friend Derrick said, talking about his boss after a bad day at work. ‘I would,’ he muttered, ‘I really would kill him.’
