The Ellie Chronicles (12 page)

I didn’t learn much in school that day. I reckon I fell asleep in half a dozen different lessons. And I only had half a dozen classes. Jess elbowed me awake a few times, then she gave up. At least Bronte lent me her History notes, and warned me about the Legal Studies test. That’s what I call friendship.

THE VERY NEXT day I saw another Liberation article in the paper. It was similar to the first one, only this time it was on the front page. Either this was a slow news day, which seemed quite likely, as there was also a story on the front page about Elvis Summers getting remarried, or else the group was becoming better known and starting to get serious attention.

A group calling itself Liberation has been credited with another successful cross-border raid.

It is believed the group rescued a man and a woman who were being held on suspicion of espionage. The names of the couple have been suppressed.

Sources close to Army Headquarters say they strongly discourage vigilante activities, but there had been grave fears for the safety of the couple.

The group is believed to operate in a number of areas but a division based around Stratton or Wirrawee has been credited with the latest mission.

It was frustratingly lacking in details. I read it in the library at school. I’d cancelled Mum and Dad’s sub-scrip tion to the paper, as another small way to save money.

At lunchtime I went and found Homer. It was raining on and off and he was in a classroom at the end of the corridor, with Bronte and Jess, along with Sam Young, Shannon’s twin, the comedian from our bus. I didn’t want to mention the delicate subject of Liberation in public, so I just settled into the conversation, which was about the usual subjects: the war, the peace, the prospects for the future. And relationships.

Jess said slyly, ‘I reckon Homer and Ellie’ll get married and never leave the farm and just walk around all day chewing on bits of hay and talking about the weather.’

‘Yeah right, Jess,’ I said. But I knew I was a bit pink. ‘Homer’s only ambition in life is to find a bimbo, the blonder the better. Someone who’ll bring him breakfast, lunch and dinner in bed.’

‘And serve herself covered with trifle as the dessert,’ Sam added.

I rolled my eyes at Bronte. She just grinned back.

‘You guys know me so well,’ Homer said, smirking away like he really thought it was going to happen.

‘Whatever happened to Lee, Ellie?’ Jess asked me.

Jess was always so, I don’t know what the word is, forceful. You were never left wondering about her opinion. And she liked to know everything. She’d never even met Lee, as far as I knew, but she sounded like she and he were old buddies.

I shrugged. I didn’t feel like telling them all the details of my love life. I didn’t want to tell them about the flow of letters I got from Lee straight after the shootings, letters where he raved with such passion about what had happened that I started to worry he was cracking up. I didn’t want to tell them about the way the letters had stopped suddenly and how I hadn’t heard from him since. And most of all I didn’t want to tell them about the nights I spent in bed on my own or with Gavin, dreaming of nights with Lee, longing to feel his hot hard body against me again.

So I just shrugged.

‘Tell us about your love life, Jess,’ Bronte said provocatively, like she was winding her up.

‘Ah, wouldn’t you like to know?’

I wasn’t sure if I would actually, but it was good to have the spotlight off me again. The truth was, my mind went like a washing machine on spin cycle when I thought about Homer and Lee. Was it possible to like them both at the same time, to be attracted to both of them, even to be in love with both of them? And to have regular rage attacks towards Homer as well? Oh, and by the way, Jeremy Finley wasn’t so bad. I didn’t necessarily want to leave him to Jess.

‘You know who really likes you?’ Sam asked Jess.

‘Well, pretty much everybody,’ Jess said. ‘But who in particular did you have in mind?’

‘He’s in our year. He’s a townie. I reckon he’s pretty gay myself, but the girls don’t seem to think so.’

‘Cal Graham?’

‘He’s not a townie,’ Homer said.

‘Someone in this room had a relationship with him,’ Sam said.

Well, seeing that Bronte was new and it obviously wasn’t Jess, that didn’t leave many possibilities.

‘Steve,’ Homer guessed.

Sam just grinned.

I tried not to react. Seemed like it wasn’t enough that Jess had my old black top, the one with the silver edging. She had to pick up my old boyfriend too. There was a pattern here.

I had been with Steve for a long time before the war. We’d kept away from each other since school started again. I don’t know why. With some people it seemed like the stuff that had happened was too much to cope with. You couldn’t talk about the war because it was too big, and you couldn’t talk about trivial things because compared to the war they were too insignificant, so you were left with nothing.

But I liked Steve. I’ll always like Steve. He was funny, nice, friendly to everyone, confident. He believed in himself and what he could achieve. And I didn’t think I wanted him to be in a relationship with Jess. That’s the thing about relationships, once you’ve been in one you think you have some kind of ownership of the person for the rest of your life.

Of course the other thing about Steve is that he’s pretty immoral. He’d go with a vampire if he thought their blood groups matched.

It was a frustrating lunchtime because I wanted to ask Homer about Liberation but it was hard to get a chance. He looked tired and was yawning a lot. Well, I could relate to that. But as we headed off to class I said to him casually, ‘I saw another Liberation article in the paper today.’

‘Oh yeah? Scarlet Pimples I call them.’

‘So what’s your connection with them?’

‘Connection? Who said I’ve got a connection?’

‘No-one. But you gave me that article to read . . .’

‘I just thought you might be interested.’

‘Well, I am.’

‘Well, good.’

‘So you’re not connected with them?’

‘I’ve heard a few things,’ he said cautiously.

‘Homer! This is me you’re talking to, remember?’

‘Oh yeah! Isn’t that funny? I could have sworn it was Kevin.’

‘Thanks very much. So, what have you heard?’

‘Ellie, don’t you think you might have enough on your plate already? Sometimes it’s a case of what you don’t know can’t hurt you.’

Ouch! Right on my sore spot. And I fired up. ‘So you’re going to decide what I should and shouldn’t know? Anything else you want to decide while you’re at it? You want to go through my wardrobe, or check what shampoo I’m using?’

‘Yeah, thought I’d come over at the weekend. Whatever you shampooed with today smells a bit minty for my taste. Hey, that looks like Mrs Slatter. I think we’re late. Ouch!’

If he’d ouched me I’d ouched him, with a good punch to the upper arm. I hoped he would feel it all the way through Maths and Chem. But I still didn’t know any more about Liberation.

The next day there was a hearing about my guardianship. I had to go to the Courthouse. ‘Be there at 10 am’ the notice said. ‘Be punctual. If you are running late you must ring the Clerk of the Court.’

It turned out everyone had been told the same thing, so there were like forty cases all scheduled for the same time. It didn’t take a genius to work out that they weren’t going to hear forty cases simultaneously. I settled in for a long wait but then Fi’s mum came out of a side door to tell me she’d fixed for me to go on early.

They only did it because Fi’s mum had come from the city and they didn’t want to keep her hanging around Wirrawee all day. Nothing like having powerful friends.

It was great to see her, just great. These days I was willing to take a bit of mothering wherever I could find it. A bit here, a bit there. Even if I’d blown her house to smithereens, even if she’d chopped our farm into five and given four of the parts away, I loved and admired her. She was one of the really important people of my childhood.

She went back in to get ready. I waited outside for Mr and Mrs Yannos, who were sure to be running late, no matter what the notice said. I got pretty anxious because I didn’t think they’d impress the court if they weren’t there when the hearing was called. As I waited it did strike me that the whole situation was kind of funny, in that whereas I had to go through all this legal stuff, no-one was a bit concerned about Gavin, who was much younger than me. Even his school was just taking it for granted that I was his ‘parent’. They sent me notes and I signed his homework diary and consent forms and it didn’t seem to bother anyone. I suppose that legally Gavin hardly existed: he was just part of the flotsam and jetsam of the war, a little boy with no connections, no records, no official identity.

I was a bit startled in the middle of all these thoughts to see Mr Sayle walking up the steps. He detoured around the smokers and came straight for me. He was very businesslike, giving me a pile of papers and explaining them so fast that I only understood about one word in every four.

At the end of that he looked around and said, ‘Where are these people, the . . . ah, the ones you want as guardians?’

‘They’ll be here in a minute,’ I said.

‘They’re not here yet?’ He looked around as though they were probably standing near us and I just hadn’t noticed them. Then he said, ‘Look, Ellie, I have to say I don’t think you’re getting very good advice in all of this. What I want to suggest is that I take on the role of guardian to you. It makes perfect sense, when you think about it. If I’m the guardian as well as executor of the estate, it’d be easier to coordinate everything and to make sure the decisions are in accordance with your best interests.’

He had me in a corner and was talking to the bottom of my throat. I felt very uncomfortable.

‘Uh, well, thanks a lot, Mr Sayle,’ I mumbled. ‘But I really don’t think . . .’

‘Look,’ he said, ‘I’ve got an application to the magistrate, in case you change your mind. All you have to do is sign it, and then when you get into court, explain that you’d prefer to have me do it. It’s very simple, and the court will be happy either way. After all, at your age you don’t need a guardian for emotional reasons. It’s more for the business and financial matters.’

Showed how much he knew. Somehow I pirouetted out from under him and got into fresh air. He turned to face me and I said, a little desperately, ‘No really, Mr Sayle, I’m happy to go with Mr and Mrs Yannos.’

‘Ellie,’ I heard from behind me. ‘Sorry we’re late.’

Mr and Mrs Yannos had arrived like the cavalry and saved me in the nick of time.

In the courtroom I sat next to Fi’s mum, at the desk for the lawyers. They were just finishing a .05 case. The guy lost his licence for six months and copped a five hundred buck fine. The magistrate was surprisingly young, a woman who didn’t look any more than thirty. I’d thought that all judges and magistrates were male, white, seventy years old, and talked like people out of the eighteenth century.

She looked at me over the top of her glasses. Again she surprised me, this time by talking about the death of my parents, as though she really cared. She was businesslike but she seemed nice.

‘Ellie Linton,’ she said. ‘I’ve read the papers in this application. I am so sorry about the events that have led to your being here today. Your parents sound like fine and decent people. These murders were an affront to our society, and in particular a terrible affront to you. Now, I understand that you have asked for your neighbours, Mr and Mrs Nicholas Yannos, to become your guardians. Wouldn’t you prefer to have one of your relatives take on this important job?’

Fi’s mum nudged me to stand up. ‘Go on, you can talk for yourself,’ she whispered.

I faced the magistrate. ‘I don’t really have any close relatives,’ I said. ‘I mean, I’ve got aunts and uncles, but they live a long way off, and we’ve never had that much contact with them.’

‘I see. And are Mr and Mrs Yannos here?’

They stood up too. She asked them, ‘Are you willing to become legal guardians to Ellie?’

They nodded. They seemed a bit overwhelmed by the whole thing.

‘You understand the ramifications of doing this? The officers of the court have explained them to you?’

They nodded again.

‘Well, it seems like a very good solution. The references you have supplied are most impressive. Unless anyone else has an objection I propose to make the order.’

She looked around the courtroom for a moment. And blow me dead if Mr Sayle didn’t stand up and clear his throat.

‘Ah, Your Worship, if I may?’

‘Mr Sayle?’

‘Your Worship, I am the executor of the Linton estate and was a good friend to the deceased persons.’

Good friend! Not that I ever noticed. Anyway, good friends don’t talk about ‘the deceased persons’. That didn’t sound too friendly.

‘Yes, Mr Sayle?’

‘In my opinion, given the complexities of the Lintons’ farming operations, and the difficulties of having too many people involved in these matters, I want to ask the court to appoint me as guardian to Ellie. This would have the advantage of combining the financial decisions on running the property with the financial decisions on running the estate. It would mean that things can be managed with greater efficiency. The advantages of this may not be immediately obvious to Ellie, but the Lintons’ business is a large one and is in critical state financially. If there are different forces all, how can I put it, pulling in different directions, then that can hardly be in Ellie’s best interests.’