Aurelia Rowl - A Girl Called Malice

‘A picnic,’ he yelled, reaching for my face until we were nose to nose. ‘Please, please, please!’

I managed a laugh. ‘OK, you’re on—’

‘Hooray!’

‘But do you remember me saying I needed to get changed?’

‘Yes.’ His bony little shoulders slumped, along with his bottom lip.

‘Why don’t you grab your colouring book and some crayons and bring them up to my room?’

That perked him up. ‘Your room?’

‘Yeah, sure.’

‘Can I—’ He stopped speaking and darted a glance to the door, then leaned in close to my ear, lowering his voice to a whisper. ‘Can I look at your pictures instead?’

‘OK, Charlie,’ I whispered back. ‘But it has to stay our secret.’

‘Yay.’ He grinned and threw his arms around my neck again, squeezing me so tight I could barely draw breath but I didn’t mind.

I wordlessly hugged him back and closed my eyes against the sudden burning sensation that threatened to make them water. A comfortable peace settled around us, broken only by the sound of a suitcase being wheeled over a stone floor.

Not wanting a repeat performance, I took off for the stairs with Charlie still clinging onto my neck. Shoulders burning, my arms ached with the weight of him but I was just as incapable of putting him down as he seemed to be incapable of letting go. His grip relaxed the moment we reached my bedroom, astute kid, so I tossed him onto my bed and tickled him until he begged me to stop.

The break in sound revealed the low purr of an engine outside. Charlie hopped off the bed then ran over to the French windows that led out to my balcony. He looked longingly through the glass so I opened the doors wide and welcomed the gust of wind whipping around me, strong enough to lift my matted tangle of hair off my neck.

Charlie dived straight out onto the balcony and hopped up and down, unable to see over the top of the wall. Whether it was excitement at seeing the car or wanting to see Mum off, I wasn’t sure. Car doors clicked shut below and spurred me into action. I followed him out and picked him up again so he could wave furiously at the black limo headed for the main gate until it was far out of sight, taking our mother with it.

Satisfied the car had gone, Charlie wriggled in my arms to get down again so I set him on his feet and watched him wander back into my room. Unexpectedly alone, I closed my eyes and breathed in the fresh air, letting it fill my lungs. My favourite place in the whole house, the balcony provided the perfect escape from the austere confines of my ‘family’ home and served as a lookout point.

The outdoor space also gave me somewhere handy to smoke. Yet another one of my grand plans of triggering mum’s maternal instincts to backfire on me, and now I could add my education to the list of sacrifices and failed attempts to draw out my errant mother.

‘Can I see your pictures now?’

‘Hmm?’ I dragged myself back to the present and forced my eyes open to look down at the little boy who had slipped his hand around mine. ‘Oh yeah, sure thing.’

‘Excellent!’ Charlie led me into my room and over to my dresser, then let go of my hand. He knew the drill all too well. His excitement grew with each stage, making it harder and harder for him to stand still.

I shot him a wink and climbed onto my tiptoes to retrieve the miniature key from the back of my mirror, then doubled back to my bed with my little shadow in tow. ‘Hop up onto the bed then.’ I didn’t need to tell him twice but it took him two goes to get up, needing a bit of a boost from me as I got down onto my hands and knees on the floor.

Charlie peered over the edge, grinning down at me as he watched me reach under the bed to drag my old school trunk out. His eyes grew wider still when I opened my hand and offered him the key.

‘Do you want to do the honours, Charlie Bear?’

‘Can I? Can I really?’ Already flat on his belly, he instantly spun around and thrust himself over the edge, feet first, to connect with the side of my head, eliciting my sharp gasp before I could stop it from escaping. Charlie slithered down to the floor and crouched down beside me. His bottom lip wobbled. ‘I’m sorry, Aunty Alice.’

‘Hey, it’s OK,’ I said, doing my best to ignore the pain lancing the side of my face. ‘It was an accident; I know you didn’t do it on purpose.’

‘Really?’

‘Sure!’ I pasted a smile on my face to reassure him, but I needed to get out of there before my eyes started leaking. It killed me not being able to reach up and rub my cheek better, but it would only upset him even more. ‘Here you go.’ I placed the key in his clammy little palm, then pushed up to standing. ‘You get started whilst I jump in the shower.’

The lock clicked open before I’d even made it to the bathroom door, swiftly followed by the tell-tale creak of the lid opening. I opened my mouth to remind him to be careful but quickly closed it again. For whatever reason unknown to me, Charlie loved my drawings and treated them like priceless artefacts but it was nice to be appreciated by somebody.

I pulled the bathroom door to behind me, leaving it ajar, then pressed my cool hand against my burning skin. With my chewing gum still in my bag on the bed, I had to raid the emergency nicotine supplies I kept hidden in a toiletry bag in my bathroom. A poor substitute for the real thing, but I could indulge in as many cigarettes as I wanted once Charlie was tucked up in bed.

For now the gum would have to do so I popped two of the white tablets into my mouths and chewed, wincing at the movement. I took out my contacts before jumping under the blistering shower. Five minutes later, I was scrubbed free of makeup—along with all traces of Hayden—and as ready as I’d ever be to brave the world again.

Charlie had stayed exactly where I’d left him, only he was now surrounded by sheets of sketch paper: drawings of hills, old cotton mills, and lots of pictures of him. He was so engrossed he didn’t notice me pottering around and getting dressed, so I squatted down beside him to see which drawing had held his attention for so long.

Big mistake.

‘I like this one best,’ he said, holding up the pencil sketch of me and Mum.

‘Thanks.’ I wedged my hands behind my knees, trapping them against my calves to stop me from snatching the picture out of his fingers.

‘It’s you and Mummy, isn’t it? When you were little?’

‘It sure is.’ I’d copied it from a photograph I’d found being used to prop up the wonky leg of our old table. Folded into a small square and badly damaged, it fell apart soon after I’d finished drawing my own copy.

‘Do you have any other sisters? Or brothers?’ he asked. ‘Or is it just Mummy?’

White lies like not knowing any Spanish were one thing but I couldn’t lie to him about the big stuff. Since it wasn’t my place to tell him the truth, it left me stuck in an awkward limbo. I must have made some kind of weird sound because Charlie turned his head to look at me.

‘Are you OK, Aunty Alice?’

‘Me? Yeah, of course I am!’

‘But you’re crying?’

I am?

‘No, no, I’m not crying.’ I freed a hand from my behind my knees and wiped my fingertips across my cheek. Sure enough, they came away wet. ‘Oh. I er… I got some shampoo in my eye when I was in the shower. It made my eyes sting, you know what that’s like.’

‘Does it hurt when you turn your blue eyes off?’ he asked, far too observant.

‘No, not at all.’

‘Is everything blue when you look through them?’

‘No. It’s just normal.’

‘I like you with green ones better.’

‘So do I,’ I admitted. Unfortunately, Charlie and I were in the minority. The fact he’d already picked up on the two different sides of me and made the connection with the eye colour left me wanting another shower. How much longer did I have before Charlie learned the truth of what I did?