1966, Sydney
Two long raps and a short. Two long raps and a short. Everybody in the Waters family knew the Inspector always knocked twice. Views diverged on the purpose and value of his visits.
Eric, with tight lips and clenched fists. ‘He’ll have nothing new to say. Just leading us on.’
Edward, throwing stuff out of the laundry basket. ‘Has anyone seen my rugby shirt ask him why he looks at Janet that way the creepy little shit.’
Bernadette, with blinked back tears. ‘He’ll have a date this time. He said he would. He has to.’
Janet, with flushed cheeks and a check of her fingernails. ‘Just going to my room (to change).’
Bernadette opened the door and let the Inspector in. He followed her through the hall and into the kitchen. Eric got up from the table and went into the garden, slamming the screen door behind him. Edward, having found his rugby kit, shouted goodbye, that he’d be staying with a friend overnight, and left via the front door. He didn’t say anything to the Inspector.
Janet stood in front of her open wardrobe and studied the three dresses, the four skirts, and the five blouses. She was bored with yellow, tired of polka dots, and wanted something different. Something grown-up. But she had yet to start her new job, and, without her own money, there was no chance of a new outfit. Not unless the Inspector paid. But they weren’t at that stage. Not yet. And, if Janet was honest with herself (she wasn’t always), they’d only been on one actual date. One date, one kiss, one ice-cream and a large stick of pink candyfloss to share.
The green dress was shorter and tighter than the others. Bought in a sale the one time she’d be into the city centre to shop. Her father had frowned when she’d brought it home and asked how much money she’d wasted on it. Edward had said it was the same colour as the slime down at the sewage treatment works. Her mother hadn’t even noticed. The Inspector hadn’t seen the green dress. She’d been saving it for something special. For when he invited her out to dinner. She changed into the green dress.
‘Hello, Janet,’ he said, as she walked into the kitchen. ‘I was just telling your mother we have a date for the inquest.’ Janet stopped. Her stomach knotted. Heat rose up her neck and into her cheeks. She’d been sure that this wouldn’t happen. All that international law of the sea stuff would be too complicated. What could they say without a body? They’d call her as a witness. She’d have to swear on something. The bible maybe. Or the queen? Did they even do that in Australia?
Bernadette was wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. ‘I’m so grateful,’ she said to the Inspector, ‘for all you’ve done for us.’ The Inspector nodded. Patted her arm. Janet poured herself a glass of water from the jug in the fridge. Leant back against the wall. Whose side was he on? How could he have done that to her? Put her in front of the coroner? What’s the point of bringing that stuff up all over again. She gulped back the water.
‘In three months,’ Bernadette said to her daughter. ‘It’s a long time, but at least we know it’s coming.’ Janet couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t look at the Inspector. He’d betrayed her. Just kissed her to get her to say something. Open her up. Ready her for the prosecution.
‘You look nice,’ the Inspector said. ‘Are you going out somewhere?’ Janet shook her head, left the kitchen and returned to her bedroom. She pulled the dress off, changed into her old clothes, and threw the dress into the back of the wardrobe. She lay face down on the bed, put the pillow over her head, and wept.
Two long raps and a short. Two long raps and a short. That was her door, not the front door. Janet sat up. Yes, she said. The Inspector opened the door.
‘Sorry to disturb you, Janet. Just wondered whether you’d be free on Saturday night?’
To be continued.
SANDERLINGS 