Thyla (11 page)

‘Wake up, sleepyhead,’ a slightly scratchy-sounding voice whispered in my ear. I felt a hand gently shaking my shoulder.

I jerked out of a brief, dreamless sleep and opened my eyes. It felt as if my eyelids were filled with glass shards.

Rhiannah was staring at me, her own eyes bloodshot, with dark half-circles tattooed beneath them.

But her irises were brown.

Definitely brown.

I wondered again if I had dreamed what I saw. Rhiannah looked normal now. Tired, but normal.

It had felt so
real
. All of it – the shock from the bangle, watching Rhiannah and the others leap over the fence, and then seeing Rhiannah
transform
when she returned.

And yet now she just looked like Rhiannah.
Had
I imagined it?
Was
I mad?

‘How did you sleep, mate?’ she asked. ‘Gawd, you look as tired as I feel!’

‘I feel as tired as you look,’ I admitted, cringing as I felt that the broken glass was not only on my eyelids, but in my throat as well.

‘Up all night studying?’ she asked, indicating with her head at the pile of schoolbooks beside my bed, the ones I had been reading to try and bore myself into sleep. No matter how I tried, I simply could not find mathematics interesting. History fascinated me. Art class was exciting and fun. Science intrigued and terrified me in equal parts (we were shown photos of ears growing on mice! And men
walking on the moon
!), but mathematics I found interminably dull.

‘Something like that,’ I replied, and it came out like a sigh.

‘Maths,’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘I would’ve thought that’d be enough to put anybody to sleep, not keep them awake.’

‘You don’t like maths either?’ I asked.

‘Our kind usually don’t,’ she said, rubbing her forehead.

‘What do you mean “your kind”?’ I blurted.

Her head snapped up. ‘I just mean … arty types, I guess,’ she said. Her brow was furrowed and her eyes looked uneasy. ‘I mean, like us. You and me. People who are more into passion and creativity than logic. I thought you were into art and writing and stuff, too.’

‘I am,’ I said.

‘So, that’s all I meant,’ she said, shrugging. ‘Just “our
arty
kind”. That’s all.’

‘How was your night?’ I asked, changing the subject. ‘How was your bushwalk?’

Rhiannah shrugged again. ‘Okay, I guess,’ she said, her voice short and tense. She breathed out shakily. ‘Sorry, Tessa. I know I’m snapping. I just didn’t get that much sleep last night and the bushwalk … um, it was just long and there were, um, some other bushwalkers in our territory. They kind of got in the way. So, all in all, I’m a bit grumpy.’

‘Who were the other bushwalkers?’ I asked.

‘Just some other people. People who are trying to, well, to do the right thing, I guess,’ she said, shrugging. ‘And we should probably, you know, be grateful and friendly or whatever, but it’s hard because, it’s like, it’s
our
bushwalking territory, you know?’

‘But how can that bush be
your
territory?’ I asked. Rhiannah looked really uncomfortable. ‘Sorry,’ I said. I knew I was asking too many questions. I knew I was doing the exact thing I had been grateful to Rhiannah for
not
doing to me. I was prying. She had been so good in letting me tell her my secrets in my own time, and now I was trying to claw hers out of her by force.

Claw.

The word reminded me of what I had seen last night, attached to Rhiannah’s pale hands.

Claws.

I looked down at Rhiannah’s fingers now. Her nails were chipped and there was a deep scratch on her right hand. On the left one, the knuckles were black with bruises.

‘Did you fall?’ I asked.

Rhiannah followed my eyes down to her hands. ‘Something like that,’ she said, echoing my phrase from just a few moments ago.

‘Do you need to talk about it?’ I asked.

She shook her head. ‘No,’ she said, quickly. ‘No, it’s fine. It’s complicated. Don’t worry about it.’ Rhiannah bit her lip and rubbed absently at the bruises on her hand.

I swallowed hard and tried to forget what I had seen or imagined the night before, and remember the good, kind Rhiannah, who had made me feel so welcome at Cascade Falls. I tried to think of the Rhiannah who was in front of me now, looking so upset.

I decided to stop my questioning. I would show Rhiannah the same respect she had shown me. ‘You can tell me anything,’ I said. ‘But you don’t have to.’

‘Thanks,’ she said, forcing a small smile. ‘I might take you up on that one day. Maybe you can do the same.’

I nodded. ‘In the meantime … waffles?’ I asked.

Rhiannah shook her head. ‘No, ma’am. Today isn’t waffle day, Miss Tessa. Today is
hash brown
day!’

I had no idea what a hash brown was, but Rhiannah seemed excited by it, just as she had been about waffles. Which could only mean that hash browns were something to look forward to. I grinned right back at her and used a phrase I had heard you and Vinnie use when you were talking about your first morning coffees. I said, ‘Bring it on then, Rhiannah. Hit me up with some hash browns!’

‘Ah, Rhiannah! Just the person I was after!’

Ms Hindmarsh poked her head around the door of her office as Rhiannah and I walked back from our breakfast (which was, predictably, wondrously divine, and of which I had partaken, well, at least
one
too many ‘browns’. I
was
going to get fat at this rate).

‘Um, why?’ Rhiannah answered, nervously.

‘Nothing to worry about!’ said Ms Hindmarsh, smiling. ‘I just wanted a chat. Would you mind waiting here for a moment? I just need to send a quick email first. It won’t take long.’

‘Sure,’ said Rhiannah.

‘Hi, Tessa,’ said Ms Hindmarsh, turning to me. ‘How’s everything going?’

‘Really well, thank you, Ms Hindmarsh,’ I said.

‘Excellent,’ she said, her blonde curls bobbing as she nodded. She turned back to Rhiannah. ‘I won’t be long, Rhiannah. I promise I won’t make you late to class.’

She stuck her head back inside the door and said, ‘Perrin, thank you for your time. Rhiannah’s here. I’ll have a chat to her on her own in a moment, if that’s okay with you.’

The boy from my first day – Perrin, Rhiannah’s brother – moved past Ms Hindmarsh into the hallway. Immediately, his eyes found mine, and then they scanned over me like a searchlight. I felt my skin prickle.

I liked the boy’s eyes.

I liked his strong, broad chin too, and the way his slicked-back hair showed a hairline that lowered in the middle at the front in a sharp point. I liked the jagged angles of his face. I even liked the small, zigzagging scar beneath his left eye. It was the only thing about him that seemed less than perfectly beautiful, and I think it was the thing I liked best of all.

My thoughts shunted to my own appearance, the one I had seen earlier that morning in the washroom mirror. I remembered the messy crop of hay-coloured hair, the heavy-looking bags beneath my eyes, the pointy nose and too-wide mouth. I wanted to cover my face with my hands so the beautiful boy could not see how plain I was. I wanted – for a moment – to look like Charlotte Lord, with her sleek blonde hair and perfect face. A lady’s face.

Out of the fog inside my mind came a reflection of a younger me, with flowing, wavy hair, and a long pretty dress. I wished I had that dress now. I wished I had that hair.

It was the first time since my accident that I had thought anything of my appearance; the first time I had minded my boyish crop and tired features. It was the first time I had remembered the way my old self looked. Now I yearned to look like a lady. I wished to be elegant and comely. All for this boy. I wanted this boy to notice me and to think me pretty.

I knew that he would not think me pretty as I was.

Still, he was kind. He reached out and took my hand in his. ‘Tessa,’ he said gently, and I felt proud that Rhiannah had mentioned me. Then I wondered what else she had told him. I wondered if she’d told him about my memory.

I couldn’t help noticing that he had a copper bangle too. It jumped and jiggled as he shook my hand up and down, and my eyes scanned it for signs of dancing paw prints. But it moved too fast. He opened his mouth to say something else, but before he could, Rhiannah strode between us, forcing the boy’s hand to slip from mine, and said angrily, ‘Perrin, what are you doing here?’

Perrin shoved his hand in his trouser pocket. The bangle was gone. ‘I just came in to make sure it was okay with Ms Hindmarsh for you to go on that big bushwalk,’ Perrin said. ‘You remember the one?’

‘And I said it was fine,’ said Ms Hindmarsh, returning from her office. ‘You know we’re very proud of how you conduct yourself on those walks. And we would never dream of keeping you chained up behind these walls. I just want to check a few things with you, though. Where you will be walking to, that sort of thing, so if anything does go wrong we’ll know where to find you. Would you mind giving me a few moments now?’

‘No, Ms Hindmarsh,’ said Rhiannah. She turned to me. ‘You okay to get to class, mate?’

I nodded.

‘Okay, well …’ Rhiannah looked from Perrin to me and said, ‘Perrin, this is Tessa. Tessa, this is Perrin. Perrin, you can go home now.’

Perrin smirked and said, ‘Well, I think, sadly, I’ll go back to school. Maths is up first, though, so I might drag it out here for as long as possible. I have a note that says I don’t need to be in until recess time.’

‘Rhiannah, now please,’ said Ms Hindmarsh.

‘Seeya, Tess,’ said Rhiannah. ‘Perrin, don’t be annoying, okay?’

‘Yes, sir,’ Perrin drawled as Rhiannah followed Ms Hindmarsh into her office.

I turned back to her brother, feeling my stomach twist. I could not identify the feeling. Embarrassment? Anxiety? Shyness? I wasn’t sure. I was torn between wanting to chat wittily with him – to be funny and pleasing and elegant – and wanting to run as quickly as I could in the opposite direction without saying a word.

Perrin just stared right back at me, the corners of his mouth turned upwards, his eyes glinting and sparkling.

He knew exactly how I was feeling.

He thought it was funny.

For some reason, this made me a little bit angry, and the anger made me forget, momentarily, about my shyness.

‘What is amusing?’ I asked.

‘Nothing!’ he said, shaking his head, his lips twitching. ‘Just that … well, you’ve got that
look,
’ he said. The little bit of anger had now turned into a very big bit. How did this stranger know about my
looks
? How presumptuous of him! ‘That “I’m mad with Perrin” look,’ he added. ‘It’s cute but definitely not funny.’

Despite his words, his lips were now twitching uncontrollably.

‘No, you’re right. It’s not funny,’ I snapped.

‘Just a little bit?’ he asked.

‘You know, it is the height of impoliteness to make fun of a lady in this manner!’ I retorted. It felt like a phrase I had been instructed to say. Or perhaps I read it in a book. I enjoyed saying it. I felt as if I had been longing to use those words.

My pleasure gave way as the twitch in Perrin’s lips escalated into a wide and unashamed grin. ‘A lady?’ he said. ‘Right.
Lady Tessa
. Is that what you think you are?’

I was furious now. What did
he
know? I
might
have been a lady.

‘Cad!’ I growled.

‘Fiery,’ he whispered. ‘Good to see you fiery.’

‘What?’ I asked. ‘What are you talking about? I don’t even
know
you!’

A shadow passed over Perrin’s face.

‘You don’t … look, forget it, okay? Forget I said anything.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Hey, I don’t think we got the chance to shake hands properly before, because my rude little sister got in the way.’ He was smiling again now.

‘I don’t want to shake hands with you,’ I said, but a voice in my head said,
Yes you do. You want to hold his hand. You want to hold
him. To shoo away the unruly, unbidden thought, I focused on being angry. ‘I think
you’re
very rude,’ I said. ‘To laugh at me like that. And to
presume
things about me.’

Perrin shrugged. ‘Maybe you just need to remember how to harden up, little girl,’ he said, winking. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, I really do need to scram. School awaits, worst luck. I hope I’ll see you again, though.’

‘If you’re
lucky
,’ I bit back.

I turned on my heel and began marching away. It took me a few moments to realise I was marching in completely the wrong direction.

Feeling my stomach churning and the heat blazing in my face again, I stopped and turned around.

Head down, I marched back past Perrin, who was standing, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised. His lips were doing that twitching thing again. Most ungentlemanly.

‘Missed me already?’ he asked.

‘No, Perrin,’ I growled as I walked past. ‘I just wanted to make sure I remembered your face, so I could run the other way next time I saw it.’

I knew it sounded spiteful and unladylike, but I also knew that I should not put up with his rudeness. He should know better than that. He needed to be reprimanded.

‘That’s it, little girl. That’s what I mean by hardening up. Go, Tessa!’

My face flamed. I hid it and kept walking. ‘Goodbye Perrin,’ I muttered.

What sort of a name was ‘Perrin’, anyway? It sounded like a kind of baby bird, not a name for a strapping youth.

It was only when I was had walked a hundred steps away from Perrin, into the hallway that led to Mr Beagle’s history classroom, that I remembered what Rhiannah had said the night before.

‘Now, you know it’s going to be difficult tonight,’
she said.
‘Perrin told me. They’ve upped their night-time patrols of the grounds. Obviously they think the same as Perrin does. They must think it’s important to increase their forces. There are Thylas everywhere tonight.’

Perrin
told her.

That’s what she said.

Perrin was involved in the same strangeness that Rhiannah and her friends had talked of and
created
last night in the moonlight. Yet again, the image of Rhiannah with claws and fangs burst into my mind. But it had been a dream. Just a dream. There were no strange creatures. Perrin wasn’t one of them.

You’re just tired
, I told myself, as I slid into my usual seat, ignoring the words written in blood-red ink on the lip of my desk. ‘Tessa is a freak’ they said. ‘You’re probably right,’ I whispered at the desk. Certainly, nobody normal would have such queer imaginings.

‘Good morning, class,’ said Mr Beagle. ‘Today, we will be learning all about Sir John and Lady Jane Franklin, two of the early pioneers of Tasmania …’

I let his voice mute slightly in my head. I already knew all about Sir John and Lady Jane (though, as with most of the people, places and dates I already knew before Mr Beagle told us, I didn’t know why), so I allowed my mind to drift away.

Back to last night.

Back to what Rhiannah had said.

Back to when she mentioned Perrin.

And back to that word she used:
Thyla
.

As I thought of it again, my scars prickled and twanged and the pain was so great, I felt I might cry out.

But I didn’t. I held it all inside as tears burned my eyes, and I wondered again on that word. I felt as though it was the key to some mystery. The key to Cat’s disappearance, perhaps.

Or the key to my past.