Angela came back, breathless. ‘Jesus, I should know better. Do you have any idea how many injuries I see as a result of drunken adults on bouncy castles?’ She clapped me on the back. ‘Damn good party, Sally. I didn’t think I’d ever see this day. This is what Jean wanted for you. Friends and fun!’
Was this what happiness felt like? Laughing and smiling came easily to me today.
Until I heard the high-pitched whistle.
Dad kept Lindy locked in the barn, the same way he’d kept my mother locked in the annexe. Her ankle was shackled to the wall. Her disappearance had been on the TV news for weeks afterwards, but nobody mentioned seeing her get into our car. I guess Dad had parked a little outside the main car park for a reason and, if anyone did see us, we looked like a normal family. Lindy wasn’t forced into the car. There was no screaming or crying. We were all nondescript. Dad had told me that day to leave the hat at home, so there was nothing unusual about us.
The police theory was that she had fallen into the lake but, obviously, divers had not recovered a body. In the weeks afterwards I was worried sick about what we had done. Dad kept the barn key with him at all times. He told me that if we let her go, we’d both go to prison. He reminded me that I wouldn’t survive the arrest because the police would manhandle me. I would die in terrible agony. He acted like he had kidnapped this girl to do me a huge favour, to give me a friend. But why a girl?
After the first few weeks, I visited Lindy every day once he got home. He unlocked the door and then locked me in with her for an hour or two. In the beginning it was terrible because she was so hysterical and distressed. She tried to escape so many times that first year. She threw boiling water at both of us. Dad was badly scalded, but I got out of the way in time. After that, Dad disconnected the gas to her stove and she got no hot food for a month, and that was a cold winter. But each time Dad put things further out of her reach or discovered a new tunnel site and blocked it up, I would try and make things easier for her. I was saving up to get her a television. I used to watch her soap operas so that I could tell her what was going on with all the characters. I installed new lights to make the place brighter. I gave her Vaseline to ease the chafing of the chain around her ankle.
Dad let her go outside sometimes, behind the house, but each time, she tried to run, even though he was holding one end of the chain. I wished she would learn to accept it, that her place was here with us. It was too late after two years to release her. She was stuck with us. She hated me too, until she realized that I didn’t hate girls as much as Dad did. She begged me to release her and I asked Dad, several times, but he got angry each time, and I learned not to bring it up.
The older I got, the more I felt my isolation. What must Lindy have felt? I was earning some money from my market gardening. Dad and I had flattened Rangi’s house and tilled the land. I grew vegetables and some fruit: potatoes, carrots, silverbeet, string beans, broad beans, parsnips, strawberries, cabbage and lettuce. I sold my vegetables to Kai, the manager of the small Clayburn superette in town. It was best to keep as many crops going as possible. It meant that if one failed for whatever reason, I’d always have something else to sell. I wanted my own money and it kept me busy while Dad was at work.
Dad had finally relented and taught me how to drive. I was a quick learner and it didn’t take long to get my driving licence. I had to explain to the examiner why I was wearing gloves in summertime, and he was understanding, although very curious about my disease. He sat up against the passenger door of the test car so as not to touch me. I sailed through the test. Once I had my licence, Dad seemed happy for me to be independent. After that, we rarely went anywhere together. I ran errands for him at the weekends. I often did the shopping for all three of us. Occasionally, I dropped him at his dental office and collected him afterwards. I wanted to buy things that Dad didn’t know about. Things for Lindy.
I found that old teddy bear when I decided to repaint my bedroom. And I thought about Denise again, and that little girl. I was so small when I spent those two nights with her all those years ago. Why did she have Toby, a toy? If she had married Dad, what had she brought to the marriage apart from an old bear? Dad had always said she had no family.
