any cars were coming. It was a couple of hundred metres to the town hall and she could see a crowd in front of the building. No flames.
She pushed through and found her father lying on the bitumen, two men hovering over him. Frank was pointing at the building and laughing.
Sia looked over her shoulder — piles of paper rested against the door and walls of the building. Some had been set on fire and were now smouldering while the rest were still in pristine condition.
“Too late, too late,” her father crowed. “It’s gone. Everything’s gone.” Then he pointed at her and laughed louder. “All your paintings. Gone, gone, gone. Now who’s the fabulous one?”
Sia sunk to her knees, stunned by the viciousness of his action, even though she knew her work was safe. He’d tried to destroy her paintings.
Was there any hope?
“It’s fine,” one of the men said. “He’d only lit a couple and we put them out when we stopped him.”
“What about the ones at the back?” Frank giggled.
On cue, a whooshing sound and flames appeared licking over the back of the building, igniting leaves and twigs in the gutter.
“Fuck. Call the firies, quick,” someone yelled.
“Cops are on their way,” someone else said.
Sia blinked. Her father could be in big trouble. “Dad.” She reached for his hand. “Dad, we have to get out of here.”
“No.” Frank jumped to his feet. The two men who’d been hovering grabbed him so he couldn’t escape. “No, I want everyone to see. I want everyone to know. What a useless, ungrateful excuse for a daughter I’ve got.”
“Dad,” Sia whispered. She’d saved him once before — could she do it again?
“Look at you. Looking at me like you’re better than me. Well, you’re not. Understand? You’re not better than me.”
“Sia’s a million times better than you, old man,” said one of the men, who Sia now recognised as a customer at the club.
“You think so. She’s a criminal, you know. Got a criminal record. What you think of that?”
Her father’s thinking was so twisted. “Dad, you’re right. You are a good man. You are, you are.”
“Better than you.”
“Yes.”
“No.” Sienna had arrived, the group from the hotel behind her. “Sia’s a million times better than you. I don’t care about that stupid mistake when she was younger. She’s proven herself since, and you haven’t.”
Sia’s heart sank — after all the years of trying to protect her, it seemed Sienna’s relationship with their father was now fracturing too.
“You stupid bitch. You don’t know nothing. God, this bloody town lauds her for that robbery, and she didn’t even do it.”
Silence. Sia closed her eyes.
“What do you mean, she didn’t do it?” Sienna said.
“You see?” Frank’s voice rang with victory. “You think she’s done such a great job, that she’s such a wonderful person for turning her life around, but she hasn’t. She never had to. She didn’t commit that robbery. She just took the heat for it. Stupid bitch.”
“Well now, that’s very interesting, Frank.” Col Hamilton, Oberon’s sole police officer, stepped into the centre of the crowd. “Very interesting indeed.”
And just like that, all her actions ten years ago came undone.
“Sia, is this true?”
Sia opened her eyes. Her sister was looking at her with wonder and fear.
“Dad’s drunk,” Sia said. “You know how drunk people are. Can’t believe a word they say.”
“It’s true. It’s all true. I stole the stuff from old man Lansing. I hid it under Sia’s bed and when the cops came, she took the blame for it but it was me. All me.”
Not entirely true, Sia thought. The goods had been on her father’s mattress when she got home from school. He’d been in the kitchen, drinking and panicking. Frank Collins had done the occasional piece of petty larceny, but breaking and entering was a new thing for him and it wasn’t sitting well.
Sia had put the stuff under her bed, so her
She pushed through and found her father lying on the bitumen, two men hovering over him. Frank was pointing at the building and laughing.
Sia looked over her shoulder — piles of paper rested against the door and walls of the building. Some had been set on fire and were now smouldering while the rest were still in pristine condition.
“Too late, too late,” her father crowed. “It’s gone. Everything’s gone.” Then he pointed at her and laughed louder. “All your paintings. Gone, gone, gone. Now who’s the fabulous one?”
Sia sunk to her knees, stunned by the viciousness of his action, even though she knew her work was safe. He’d tried to destroy her paintings.
Was there any hope?
“It’s fine,” one of the men said. “He’d only lit a couple and we put them out when we stopped him.”
“What about the ones at the back?” Frank giggled.
On cue, a whooshing sound and flames appeared licking over the back of the building, igniting leaves and twigs in the gutter.
“Fuck. Call the firies, quick,” someone yelled.
“Cops are on their way,” someone else said.
Sia blinked. Her father could be in big trouble. “Dad.” She reached for his hand. “Dad, we have to get out of here.”
“No.” Frank jumped to his feet. The two men who’d been hovering grabbed him so he couldn’t escape. “No, I want everyone to see. I want everyone to know. What a useless, ungrateful excuse for a daughter I’ve got.”
“Dad,” Sia whispered. She’d saved him once before — could she do it again?
“Look at you. Looking at me like you’re better than me. Well, you’re not. Understand? You’re not better than me.”
“Sia’s a million times better than you, old man,” said one of the men, who Sia now recognised as a customer at the club.
“You think so. She’s a criminal, you know. Got a criminal record. What you think of that?”
Her father’s thinking was so twisted. “Dad, you’re right. You are a good man. You are, you are.”
“Better than you.”
“Yes.”
“No.” Sienna had arrived, the group from the hotel behind her. “Sia’s a million times better than you. I don’t care about that stupid mistake when she was younger. She’s proven herself since, and you haven’t.”
Sia’s heart sank — after all the years of trying to protect her, it seemed Sienna’s relationship with their father was now fracturing too.
“You stupid bitch. You don’t know nothing. God, this bloody town lauds her for that robbery, and she didn’t even do it.”
Silence. Sia closed her eyes.
“What do you mean, she didn’t do it?” Sienna said.
“You see?” Frank’s voice rang with victory. “You think she’s done such a great job, that she’s such a wonderful person for turning her life around, but she hasn’t. She never had to. She didn’t commit that robbery. She just took the heat for it. Stupid bitch.”
“Well now, that’s very interesting, Frank.” Col Hamilton, Oberon’s sole police officer, stepped into the centre of the crowd. “Very interesting indeed.”
And just like that, all her actions ten years ago came undone.
“Sia, is this true?”
Sia opened her eyes. Her sister was looking at her with wonder and fear.
“Dad’s drunk,” Sia said. “You know how drunk people are. Can’t believe a word they say.”
“It’s true. It’s all true. I stole the stuff from old man Lansing. I hid it under Sia’s bed and when the cops came, she took the blame for it but it was me. All me.”
Not entirely true, Sia thought. The goods had been on her father’s mattress when she got home from school. He’d been in the kitchen, drinking and panicking. Frank Collins had done the occasional piece of petty larceny, but breaking and entering was a new thing for him and it wasn’t sitting well.
Sia had put the stuff under her bed, so her
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