I think I trust him. There’s a calm about him – Min would say he is very zen – and it’s not a creepy, weird, why-am-I-alone-with-him calm. He’s Holly’s mate. Troy said he’s a good bloke. I pause at that thought. Everyone says Deklan’s dad is a good bloke and I know for a fact that isn’t true.

  ‘I kind of dismissed Deklan at first,’ I confess, making the decision to open up and share. ‘He has to train with his dad every day, so I didn’t think he had the opportunity. And, you know, his dad is also Cooinda’s local superhero, so what reason would he have to do something like this? Something so dangerous and . . . brainless.’

  We are slowly making our way around each building. Peering in windows and trying doors to see if any are unlocked. So far without success.

  ‘But then?’ Smitty encourages me as he tugs on another handle. Locked.

  ‘But everyone else had solid alibis.’ I frown, thinking back through my original list. ‘I’m actually not one hundred per cent sure on Olivia or Noah still, if I’m honest. I mean, I think they were telling me the truth, but who could be sure? It was the handwriting. That’s what convinced me, more than anything else. He definitely wrote the note.’

  I explain what happened with the note, even though maybe Holly has already told him this. Regardless, he listens and nods at all the right spots. He’s a good listener.

  ‘Then I met his dad last night, and his little sister,’ I say to complete my recap, and my confidence starts to grow again. More than ever I’m sure Deklan is behind everything. ‘Smitty, his dad is not a good bloke. I don’t care what anyone around here says.’

  ‘You’re saying the fires are because of Leigh Webb?’

  ‘Oh, so you’re sticking up for him now?’ I grumble. ‘I don’t even know how that guy got a gig as a high school footy coach. I can’t imagine he’s exactly Mr Positive Reinforcement.’

  I push on the large double doors that lead into the building where my locker is, and I get a shock when they swing forward. I thought they might have been locked too. Does this mean we are on the right track? The movement of the doors reminds me of the seriousness of the situation. Not just Deklan, but a potential explosion, and my heartbeat skips before changing time.

  Smitty must be feeling the same, because he lowers his voice when he speaks again. ‘Good players don’t always make good coaches, this is true. And there are definitely plenty of parents who probably shouldn’t be parents.’

  ‘You weren’t there,’ I say. ‘You should have heard him screaming. And Deklan’s little sister? She looked so frightened. I don’t know if I blame Deklan for acting out. It would be awful to live with that.’

  ‘True,’ Smitty says. ‘However, I don’t think that justifies it, do you?’

  I look at him, annoyed for a brief moment. Surely he’s not going to be another superfan sticking up for his hero. Is he just going to dismiss that Leigh Webb is a crappy human and growing up in that house would be miserable?

  He sees my expression and quickly continues. ‘I’m simply saying, it might not be Deklan’s fault he feels that way, but it is his responsibility. If people used the bad things that happened to them as an excuse to make everyone miserable, we’d live in a pretty awful world. Lots of people have it tough, and it’s their responsibility to make sure that they don’t take it out on everyone else and make other people’s lives tough too. You know?’

  I nod. Mostly thinking of Ethan, and his family. And Angus, who lost his mum when he was still a kid. And, even though I reckon my life is not too bad at all, maybe me too.

  Smitty and I both look up and down the hallway and at the same time we say ‘this way’. Only thing is, we are suggesting opposite directions.

  ‘I think this way, towards the lockers.’ I’m holding a deep breath as I say this. I need to trust my gut more. My gut says this way.

  He shakes his head. ‘Science rooms are this way. Way more stuff to blow up.’

  ‘You think that’s his plan?’

  Smitty shrugs. ‘Who knows what is going through his head? He’s set off two explosions though, one immediately after the other. He might well have done that and then just taken off but . . .’

  ‘Escalating.’ I nod sagely, like I know what I’m talking about when I actually have no clue.

  The nod from Smitty both frightens and terrifies me. ‘Whatever is going on with him, it’s getting very serious, very quickly. I think we have to assume the worst.’

  I think of Vi’s quote again, about burning down the village, and I give a little shiver. Smitty goes to walk and moves his chin as though I’m to join him.

  ‘I’m going this way.’ I hold my ground.

  ‘Eleanor, don’t be difficult,’ Smitty tells me before adding, ‘Holly was right about you.’

  ‘Holly said I’m difficult?’

  Smitty immediately looks guilty. ‘No, no she didn’t. She said you were headstrong and tenacious.’

  I fold my arms. ‘Excellent qualities.’

  He groans. ‘Not today. This way.’

  ‘Look,’ I tell him as I unfold my arms and drop my shoulders. We’re wasting time. ‘How about you go that way, and I will go this way, and if I find him, or a potential explosion, I will come back and get you. Deal?’

  He hesitates, glancing back and forth between our two options before releasing a sigh. ‘I don’t like this. Fine. A quick scan, then we get out of here. If you see him, don’t confront him. Promise me?’

  I give him a salute and I catch the crease of one of his dimples as he tries not to smile at me.

  Walking away, and having psyched myself up to listen to my gut, I now try to ignore the low feeling of despair in the pit of that gut. I hope I don’t regret this decision.

  CHAPTER 39

  As I make my way down the hall, the slap, slap of my soaking shoes on the lino sounds as loud as that earlier explosion. I give my head a shake. There’s a ringing in my ears, but I’m not sure if it’s from the blast, or the gross dam water.

  I feel like I have a thousand voices in my head, and none of them are being nice to me. I felt sure Deklan was going to be up here, but I don’t know why. I’m as bad as Min right now, running on vibes and convincing myself that’s the solution. What if I’m wrong? What if he’s in the woodwork room, or the gym, and Alfie or Ethan are in danger and it’s all my fault?

  I pass by the lockers, scanning each one to see if any of the locks are loose or if there are any missing ones. A locker seems like an obvious place to set up a potential explosion. Not Deklan though. The explosion comes second. He lights the fire first, and lets it burn.

  Up ahead, I can see our English room but I know even before I look through the glass window that it’s empty. It’s so quiet. There’s zero sign of life around this part of the school. Where else might he be?

  Still, I poke my head in the square window at the top of the door all the same. Just to be sure.

  The chairs, like in the other rooms I’ve seen before now, are stacked on top of the tables to allow the cleaners the opportunity to get in and do their job. I’m about to move away when I realise something is wrong with this picture. Ms Kahn’s desk. Her chair isn’t on top of it. It’s on the floor. The desk itself has one corner filled with some paperwork, pens and books.

  Hesitating, I take my time turning the handle on the door. It lets out a painful creak and I wince in response.

  ‘Hello?’ I say. My voice is quiet but in the still silence it sounds like it’s booming. There’s no answer.

  I make my way into the classroom and across to Ms Kahn’s desk. I’m half expecting to see a can of petrol and a stack of papers alight when I get there, but there’s nothing. I can’t smell fire or fuel at all. This is a good sign, and I allow myself a small but heavy exhale.

  The books on the desk are our assignment choices, and the notes are mostly pieces of information that Ms Kahn has noted following the experts’ visits to class. I push the paper across the desk and see that underneath one sheet there is a heavy A4 sized planner. The kind with a ‘day to a page’ calendar.

  It’s open for today – Saturday – and there are just three entries.

  Dinner tonight with J & T at 6 pm.

  Run with C at 3 pm.

  And the other appointment is for 10.30 am: Meet with DW – school.

  I feel a little prickle across my arms. I know that feeling. Panic. I look at my phone for the time. They were meeting less than ten minutes ago. They can’t be far away. And where? Where would they be if not here in the classroom?

  Think, Eleanor, think!

  Deklan seemed mad at Ms Kahn the other day – well, mad at everyone, to be fair – but then, a few days before that they were in heavy conversation. There was absolutely something going on. Was he talking to her about his dad? If I was meeting someone and they wanted to talk but they were stressed out, where would I take them?

  I run through the layout of the school in my mind. I consider the library again, but immediately dismiss it. It might be a place for me to regulate my emotions, but not Deklan. Where else do teachers go in this school? Where does Ms Kahn go?

  The staff room! That’s where all the teachers hang out. That’s where they keep their stuff. That’s where the offices are, and where they work when they’re not in class. That’s where you’d take someone for a cuppa, or a drink of water, or even the chance to not be completely alone. It’s worth a try, isn’t it? Why do I feel like I’m running out of time?

  With heavy, slippery steps, I make my way back out into the corridor and towards the far exit. Even further from Smitty than before. Should I have found him first? Probably. I’ve got to find Deklan though. Or at least find Ms Kahn and make sure she’s okay. The door at the far end of the corridor is unlocked and I make my way out to the grounds near the front of the school. The reception desk is off the main entry, and the staff rooms and sick bay are directly behind that. I try the first two doors along the side of the courtyard that gives direct access. They’re both locked.

  The third door isn’t though and I’m about to pull it open when my phone vibrates. I take it out of my pocket. Troy.

  I press the screen to accept.

  ‘Hi,’ I whisper.

  ‘You’re alive!’ I’m happy to report he sounds very relieved.

  ‘Aren’t you meant to be playing footy?’

  ‘What the hell was that explosion? Was that you? The school? Is everything okay?’

  ‘It was the Enviro Science room. And the pump shed. We’re all okay. I think Jarrod Griggs saved our lives.’

  There’s a brief silence on the other end of the line and then Troy speaks again. ‘Unexpected. Eleanor, Deklan never showed for footy. Neither has Noah. Coach Webb has dropped his bundle, screaming and yelling at everyone. A couple of the parents got involved. Then we heard . . . well, and saw . . . whatever happened over there. Game’s off. Are you sure you’re okay?’

  ‘I’m fine, I promise. Smitty is here.’

  ‘What?’ Troy sounds panicked at this.

  ‘No, no. It’s all right. He was running past when the explosion happened. He’s helping us look for Deklan. Searching the main buildings with me.’

  ‘You’re really sure it’s Dek then?’

  ‘Let’s just say my ninety-five per cent theory has increased to a solid ninety-nine point nine,’ I tell him.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Never mind. Listen, I have to go.’

  ‘Please be careful.’

  I hear a shout, followed by a squeal, and I freeze. ‘Shhh. Wait. I think I’ve found him.’

  I drop the phone into my shirt pocket.

  The door gives a tiny squeak as I swing it open. I wince and stop in my tracks, listening for movement. There’s nothing, but I have a different feeling than I did earlier. This time, I know there’s someone here.

  I walk behind the main reception desk and I’m about to turn left towards the teachers’ lounge when I smell an all too familiar scent. Petrol. I know it is. My stomach lurches. I’m tempted to call out, but instead I follow the smell.

  To the right is the sick bay. It’s a large room with a couple of couches, and a couple of beds. There are chairs to one side and a wall of pamphlets making promises for every possible disease and disorder. The door is slightly ajar and with each step the smell gets stronger.

  ‘The sick bay,’ I whisper.

  I’m about to swing the door open when I hear a squawk so instead, I push on it very gently. Across the room, with her back to the wall is Ms Kahn. She looks terrified. We lock eyes as I step into the space and as I start to look around the room, I realise I can’t see Deklan anywhere. I feel confused. Did I get this wrong? Surely it wasn’t Ms Kahn starting the fires. We can’t have two teachers at this school who are completely off the deep end, can we?

  As I take another step forward, my already wet shoe is submerged again and looking down I realise that I’ve stood directly in a puddle of fuel. I lift my foot in the air, inspecting the damage and feeling disappointed that these shoes will definitely end up in the bin if I make it through this.

  I’m about to open my mouth to ask Ms Kahn what’s going on and where Deklan is when the question is answered for me. Behind me, the door slams and I hear a voice.

  ‘Hello, Eleanor.’

  CHAPTER 40

  My stomach sinks. Not because I’m surprised though, but because I was right all along. I’m so mad at myself. Holly said I was headstrong, but I haven’t been. They said he was a good bloke. It couldn’t be him. I didn’t speak up loudly enough. And now I have no idea how I’m going to get myself out of this one.

  I turn around slowly and next to the now closed door is Deklan Webb. He’s sitting on top of a desk against the wall, one leg stretched out and the other knee raised to his chin. Beside him is a large jerry can and in his hand is a box of matches.

  ‘What are you doing here, Eleanor Jones?’ He makes a fist around the matchbox, and I notice his hand is shaking. ‘I told you. I told you to stay out of this. You kept showing up though. You wouldn’t keep your annoying, nosy beak out of it!’

  His voice gets louder with every word of that last sentence, ending with a shout and it makes me jump. Deklan is not okay and that is the understatement of the year.

  Behind me, Ms Kahn is sobbing quietly.

  I sigh. Really? He’s blaming me now?

  ‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘Why exactly did you leave that note for me? You had to know that everything would lead back to you in the end.’

  He stares at me, his eyes like endless, black dark pools. He wanted me to know. He wanted to be caught. I don’t understand. I feel a rage well up inside of me. What is he playing at? Why drag me into this?

  ‘Well,’ I say, my voice steely despite my fear and anger. ‘Maybe if you didn’t keep setting stuff on fire, I would have been able to let go of the fact that you killed my neighbour! Nah, sorry. That would never have happened.’

  ‘I didn’t kill Garry!’

  ‘Oh, yeah? Arson squad and homicide say otherwise.’ This is not true, but Deklan’s not to know that.

  ‘I didn’t!’ It’s a shout and it makes me jump backwards. He shakes the matchbox and slides it open, then closed again. Back and forth, open and closed, over and over, like a nervous twitch. ‘I went there to ask him for help. He always thought my dad was so great, such a superstar. But then he saw. He saw the truth. I thought he’d . . .’

  ‘You thought what exactly? You thought you might light a fire in his house and he accidentally hung around until he burnt to death?’

  ‘It was a heart attack, okay? I was only talking to him. Trying to explain what the big man about town Leigh Webb is truly like, and he just . . . he just died. Right there in front of me. I didn’t touch him. I wouldn’t do that. I’m not like that.’

  I don’t speak. I want to know if that first fire was a response to the death. If he panicked and tried to cover it up. And if that was the thing that started, well, all of this.

  ‘What about Baxter, Deklan?’ I ask instead. ‘What about the car?’

  He shakes his head now. I’m wondering how he will justify this. ‘He laughed at me. He told me I needed to check my privilege.’ Deklan spits on the word ‘check’. ‘He’s supposed to be one of my best mates and he couldn’t give a shit about me. No one does. Not my parents. Not my friends. Not her.’ He thrusts his chin in the direction of Ms Kahn, who whimpers behind me. ‘She’s meant to help her students. Meant to be the adult you can trust. She’s supposed to be able to help.’

  ‘Deklan,’ Ms Kahn pleads. ‘You have to understand. I’m trying. There are processes we have to follow. I’m trying to do it right. It takes time.’

  I look over my shoulder at her. It’s like she’s paralysed – completely still, and her back and the palms of her hands are practically stuck to the wall. She looks me in the eye and shakes her head ever so slightly before closing her eyes. It’s almost as though she’s given up.

  Deklan makes a sound – a scoff – and I look back at him. He slides the matchbox open again. Then closed. Open, closed, open.

  ‘It didn’t matter, you know.’ He’s talking again but not to me. It’s like he’s speaking to the matchbox. ‘It was just me for a long time. I’m strong enough. I can put up with it. But not Tessa. Tessa is so small. He can’t do those things to Tessa.’

  He stares into my eyes again. His eyes are welling with tears now, but he doesn’t blink. ‘All the people who knew, all the people who were supposed to be there . . . none of them were. They say it’s not their place to get involved. Not you though. That doesn’t stop you.’

  He pulls a match out of the box and lines it up on the reddish-brown striking surface on the side. His index finger on one end of the match wiggles back and forth, the head of the match wobbling on the rough edge. With his middle finger he flicks the match. It catches alight and I gasp.

  It flies through the air, spinning twice, and the breeze the spin generates snuffs out the flame. The now dead matchstick falls to the floor and I stare as I watch it land in the small pool of fuel.

 

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