Page 18 of Summer, in Between
‘He let you walk home on your own?’Even in the low television-cast light I can see that Dad’s livid.‘That little prick...’
‘No, Dad, it’s fine.I’d had enough so I just left.’
‘You didn’t ask him to take you home?’asks Dad.
‘Why didn’t you call us?’Mum stands and puts her hands on my shoulders.‘Are you all right?We don’t like you walking around on your own at night, especially in the holiday season.It’s not safe, Cat.You know that.’
‘There’re people everywhere.’I kiss my parents good night and go upstairs to my bedroom.
I hear the clink of glass on the granite bench and Dad’s footsteps moving through the house.‘I’m going to strangle that little prick with my bare hands.’
9
‘BOOM!’Mum slams thenewspaper on the dining table and my sticky notes scatter.‘Here’s an issue for your assignment, Cat.’
‘What?’I pull the paper closer and spread it flat.
‘This is the world you’re living in.We’ve been fighting this for years, and look, here we still are.’
‘“She asked for it.”’I read the headline aloud.‘Is this for real?’
‘I wish it weren’t.I honestly can’t believe it.’Mum winds open a window to let in some fresh air and a trickle of water from the early morning rain moves down the glass.
I scan through the article of a young woman sexually assaulted by a group of men, footballers, at a party in a beach town just like Batter’s Cove, but in New South Wales.
‘So, sexual assault?’I writhe in my chair at the thought of months upon months of researching violence against women.
‘It’s not so much the act,’ Mum says, ‘but how it’s being reported.That’s your issue.“What was she wearing?”“Had she been drinking?”Next there will be character witnesses about the men, what good blokes they are, how they’re the pillars of the community.Sadly, there’ll be more than enough articles for you to analyse, and that’s only the ones that make the papers.’
My stomach squirms.Last summer, Isabel in the manky toilet block, a deep red scratch down the length of her leg, the rumours that followed.I grab a sticky note and scribble a love heart and a smiley face before tearing it off.
‘You’re the actual best.’I slap it gently on Mum’s forehead and laugh as she goes cross-eyed looking up at it.
Dad honks his car horn twice.Tommy leaps up from the living room floor where he’s been playing.He and I kiss Mum on the cheek and bolt down the stairs.
‘Don’t run!’Mum yells but the command comes too late.
