Page 46 of The Family Across the Street
The scream is long and loud, desperate and sad all at once. Gladys looks at Katherine’s house and then at the man. Her mouth drops open, words failing her. Logan takes off running and she watches as he darts to the side of the house, pushing at the side gate and then heaving his shoulder into it. The wood gives way, the gate swinging open with a crunch.
Who screamed? Was it George or Sophie or Katherine? Gladys covers her mouth with her hand. Who screamed? Who was it?
‘Oh, Lou,’ she says, remembering that her husband is waiting for her.
She walks quickly back towards her own front door, steps inside her house, just a step, and shouts, ‘Are you okay, Lou?’
‘I’m fine,’ shouts Lou. ‘What was that scream? I heard a scream.’
Gladys looks back at the street, where she can see if a police car approaches. Come on, come on. She wants to go back to Katherine’s house and see what’s happening. She can’t see much through the green hedging that is between her front garden and Katherine’s front garden. But first she needs to reassure Lou, who’s still in the living room.
‘It was… I think it was one of the children,’ yells Gladys so that he can hear her. ‘Now you stay right where you are. I’ve called the police and it’s all going to get sorted out, just stay where you are, Lou.’ She waits to hear his reply, her gaze concentrated on the road.
‘Don’t tell me what to do, Gladys. If something is happening over there, you need to stay here until the police come. You need to be safe.’
Gladys marches back into her house and into the living room, wagging her finger as she sees Lou, who is peering at the door. ‘Now you listen to me, Lou Aaron Philips, I’m fine. All I need is for you to keep yourself safe while I figure this out.’
‘No need to be so strict, old girl, I’m just worried about you.’ He sags a little in his chair and she is immediately sorry, but her worry over Katherine and the children is making her horribly jumpy.
‘I’ll be fine, love. Do you need anything? I may be a few minutes.’
‘No, no, I’m all right… but, Glad, please be careful.’
She plants a quick kiss on top of his head and marches back down her front garden path to stand outside Katherine’s house and wait for the police. As she goes, she dials the station again. No reason why they can’t hurry themselves along. No reason at all.
‘Yes, now listen here,’ she says when the call is answered, and she explains again, although this time she adds in the scream she and the delivery man just heard. It was not a normal scream, not a child playing or just doing themselves some minor injury. That scream held fear and pain. Gladys has no idea how she knows this, but she does.
She paces up and down, looking down the front path to Katherine’s house. What if the man who has gone into the house is the dangerous one? Should I follow him inside? Should I stay here? Will Lou be okay if something happens? Who will take care of Lou if I get hurt?
The delivery driver is such a frightening-looking man, every inch of his skin covered in violent tattoos, but his voice is deep and calm and he has nice blue eyes. Can she trust him? She thinks she can but she has no idea why this is. He is not the sort of person she would normally trust. He’s the sort of person she would call the police on. She almost did, but it was the way he said, ‘I’m going to level with you,’ that made her pause. The world needs more people like Logan.
It’s unnerving how quiet it is, how the silence has draped itself over the suburb after the last few minutes of noise. Gladys looks around at the other houses on the street, wondering exactly what is happening inside all of them. Katherine’s house looks the same today as it did yesterday but she has obviously never had any real idea of what is occurring behind the beautiful timber front door that is meant to keep people out, but which may very well have kept people trapped inside today.
31
‘I’m asking you one last time,’ she says, interrupting my counting. ‘I’m asking you to leave, just leave.’ Her face is a mess and I have to listen carefully when she speaks because her cheek and lips have puffed and it’s affecting her speech, the way she sounds. I did that. How did I do that? But then again, I’ve done worse than that. I’ve crossed other lines and I can feel myself stepping over another one.
My father’s grey face and staring eyes are there as I count. ‘Don’t trust a woman, boy.’ If I leave, if I don’t finish this, I know it will only be months before those staring eyes are mine. Except I won’t just lie in some bed in a small apartment for a couple of days. I won’t just be there until my son, who loves me, opens the door to the terrible stench of my death. I will lie there undiscovered and alone because at least he had me. However shitty a son I was. At least he had me. As of today, as of the end of this countdown, I will have no one. But I will not be the only one to suffer.
‘No,’ I say to her because she is still hoping to get through to me with her pleading. ‘No, I don’t think I’m going to do that.’
I resume my counting at fifty. Halfway there and it will all be over.
32
Katherine
She nods her head at his final refusal. She will not ask or beg or plead again. He’s made a decision. Well, so has she. These children may grow up without a mother, but at least they will grow up. If she moves quickly enough, uses her whole body to block the gun and shouts at the children to run, she may just give them time to get away. She has no other option now. He’s taken all of her choices away.
She glances at her weary babies; at the way their little bodies are slumped on the sofa. Sophie’s curls are limp with heat and sweat, her green eyes dull with the exhaustion of hours and hours of fear and confinement. George’s hair is slicked to his forehead but his eyes have an intensity that bothers her. He is staring at him as though trying to annihilate him with just a look. He wants to hurt the man who has hurt them and she can feel her little boy, the person he is, slipping away.
There is no question about what she has to do. She’s made her choice. She’s chosen them.
33
Logan
Logan stands at the back door of the house. It’s a standard back door with an easily opened lock. It wouldn’t take much to push it open. The gate at the side gave way easily enough with just a small lift and shove, the old wood splintering. Logan hesitates. If there is nothing going on in the house – if he’s just imagining this and he gets inside, actually breaks in – then he is going back to prison for a long time.
