Read Online Jill Jackson - 04 - Watch the World Burn by Leah Giarratano - Free Book Online
Authors: Leah Giarratano
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then he’d be in gaol and the kids would have no one again.
He’d been pretty lucky with Chris and Lucy for the first few years. His great-grandmother, his father’s nan, was still alive then; she was an elder in her community in Far North Queensland. When he was five, Troy had had the best Christmas of his life when his father had taken him up to Nan’s. Years later, hearing about what had happened to her grandson’s kids, she’d contacted Troy, offering help. So when he’d got a week off at the service station he worked at, Troy took the kids up to meet her. Nan was a mum for six children under twelve in her own home, kids whose parents were drugged up, locked up or bashed up too regularly. And every day and night, Nan fed and consoled many more from the community. Some of her former charges were now old enough to help out, and Nan’s home was bursting with children, breastfeeding mothers, great cooking smells and gossip. For a week, Chris and Lucy swam, ate fish, laughed and tore about barefoot. For the whole of the next year, they’d begged to go back.
Troy remembered that life-changing year very well. His long-held fantasy of joining the police force looked like staying just that, until the servo got done over by two druggies with balaclavas and a shotgun. Suddenly, he decided he was going to go for it – he wanted something better for his life. He’d worried that Chris and Lucy would baulk at a three-month stay with Nan while he studied on campus, but they’d started packing that night.
Lucy and Chris had been inconsolable when he’d told them, years later, that Nan had died. Thinking back now, Troy figured that this was the year Chris had really begun acting up at school – and giving him hell at home.
Lucy’s giant ginger cat, Shrek, now thumped about his ankles. Bigger than most designer dogs, Troy couldn’t believe that they’d managed to smuggle him into this rental apartment and keep him here for the past eighteen months. Had to have something to do with his tiny voice. Despite the fact that his paws were the size of racquetballs, he had a little squeak of a mew. Troy knew that Shrek was not operating on all cylinders. His golden eyes were slightly crossed, and he stumbled and bumbled his way through the unit, leaping up to furniture and missing, having knock-down brawls with the cat in the mirror every time they forgot to cover it. Shrek always had a bruised or split lip.
Right now, Shrek trilled in his little-bird voice for food.
‘Yeah, yeah, Dumb Dumb,’ said Troy; Shrek answered to both names. ‘I’ll get you some chicken.’ Shrek wove and warbled his way to the kitchen with him, almost tripping him up. Troy sat in the kitchen with a beer while Shrek, up on the table, chortled his way through his food. Cleaning, dreaming or eating, Shrek let everyone know he was having a good time.
‘I’m pissed off they didn’t let me sit in on the rest of that meeting today, Dumb Dumb,’ Troy said. But if he was honest, though, he thought Hutchinson and Gibson had been pretty sloppy in letting him sit in on even part of the fireys’ findings. Crime Scene 101 told you not to let any potential suspect back onto the scene. Otherwise, if it turned out this person was your squirrel, they’d have had plenty of time to cook up a story, make it plausible for a jury. But no one would seriously consider him a suspect. ‘Would they, Dumb Dumb?’ Shrek gave him cross eyes, and bent back to his bowl.
Troy took the last beer back to the lounge. ‘Too smart for your own good, aren’t you, Luce?’ He saluted bottle number six at her bedroom door. He nudged the volume up a smidge and reclined back on the couch.
Troy woke to the phone ringing and a wet patch on the cushion under his mouth.
‘What the fuck?’ he said. ‘Christopher.’ He scrambled for the mobile on the table in front of him but dropped it. ‘Fuck!’ He fell to his knees and reached for it. Lucy snapped on a light, blinking, in
He’d been pretty lucky with Chris and Lucy for the first few years. His great-grandmother, his father’s nan, was still alive then; she was an elder in her community in Far North Queensland. When he was five, Troy had had the best Christmas of his life when his father had taken him up to Nan’s. Years later, hearing about what had happened to her grandson’s kids, she’d contacted Troy, offering help. So when he’d got a week off at the service station he worked at, Troy took the kids up to meet her. Nan was a mum for six children under twelve in her own home, kids whose parents were drugged up, locked up or bashed up too regularly. And every day and night, Nan fed and consoled many more from the community. Some of her former charges were now old enough to help out, and Nan’s home was bursting with children, breastfeeding mothers, great cooking smells and gossip. For a week, Chris and Lucy swam, ate fish, laughed and tore about barefoot. For the whole of the next year, they’d begged to go back.
Troy remembered that life-changing year very well. His long-held fantasy of joining the police force looked like staying just that, until the servo got done over by two druggies with balaclavas and a shotgun. Suddenly, he decided he was going to go for it – he wanted something better for his life. He’d worried that Chris and Lucy would baulk at a three-month stay with Nan while he studied on campus, but they’d started packing that night.
Lucy and Chris had been inconsolable when he’d told them, years later, that Nan had died. Thinking back now, Troy figured that this was the year Chris had really begun acting up at school – and giving him hell at home.
Lucy’s giant ginger cat, Shrek, now thumped about his ankles. Bigger than most designer dogs, Troy couldn’t believe that they’d managed to smuggle him into this rental apartment and keep him here for the past eighteen months. Had to have something to do with his tiny voice. Despite the fact that his paws were the size of racquetballs, he had a little squeak of a mew. Troy knew that Shrek was not operating on all cylinders. His golden eyes were slightly crossed, and he stumbled and bumbled his way through the unit, leaping up to furniture and missing, having knock-down brawls with the cat in the mirror every time they forgot to cover it. Shrek always had a bruised or split lip.
Right now, Shrek trilled in his little-bird voice for food.
‘Yeah, yeah, Dumb Dumb,’ said Troy; Shrek answered to both names. ‘I’ll get you some chicken.’ Shrek wove and warbled his way to the kitchen with him, almost tripping him up. Troy sat in the kitchen with a beer while Shrek, up on the table, chortled his way through his food. Cleaning, dreaming or eating, Shrek let everyone know he was having a good time.
‘I’m pissed off they didn’t let me sit in on the rest of that meeting today, Dumb Dumb,’ Troy said. But if he was honest, though, he thought Hutchinson and Gibson had been pretty sloppy in letting him sit in on even part of the fireys’ findings. Crime Scene 101 told you not to let any potential suspect back onto the scene. Otherwise, if it turned out this person was your squirrel, they’d have had plenty of time to cook up a story, make it plausible for a jury. But no one would seriously consider him a suspect. ‘Would they, Dumb Dumb?’ Shrek gave him cross eyes, and bent back to his bowl.
Troy took the last beer back to the lounge. ‘Too smart for your own good, aren’t you, Luce?’ He saluted bottle number six at her bedroom door. He nudged the volume up a smidge and reclined back on the couch.
Troy woke to the phone ringing and a wet patch on the cushion under his mouth.
‘What the fuck?’ he said. ‘Christopher.’ He scrambled for the mobile on the table in front of him but dropped it. ‘Fuck!’ He fell to his knees and reached for it. Lucy snapped on a light, blinking, in
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