The Tilt by Chris Hammer

The Tilt by Chris Hammer

Author:Chris Hammer [Hammer, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Allen & Unwin
Published: 2022-08-26T00:00:00+00:00


chapter twenty-six

1973

'Are you all right, Tessa?'

She shook her head, looked up. The bell had rung, she’d heard it, but somehow it hadn’t registered. The Tool was standing in front of her desk, frowning. The last of her classmates had left; she hadn’t noticed. She looked at the wall clock: it was gone three thirty—somehow fifteen minutes had vanished since the last time she had looked.

‘I’m fine,’ she said, getting to her feet.

‘You sure?’ asked her teacher. ‘If you need to talk about something …’

‘I’m fine.’ Tessa found this new attitude of his unsettling; it sounded as if his concern was genuine.

‘Well, have a good break. Hope to see you next year,’ said the teacher.

‘Happy Christmas, sir.’

Outside, the normal listless drift of her classmates had been replaced by a contained energy. It was the last week of school, just two days remaining, and now she was with them she felt some of it herself. The holidays beckoned; it was contagious. Past summers had meant isolation at the farm, but surely not this year. For a day or two, maybe. For weeks, possibly. But not for the entire break. There was too much momentum, too much impetus. She had waited patiently for it to arrive and now it was here: life. She looked about her, sure that her classmates from the third and fourth forms could feel it too. Life. Big and bold and beckoning. In just two months she would be sixteen, an adult, or close enough.

And then, as if in response to these thoughts, she caught a flash of blue from the corner of her eye. Tycho in his Datsun. Circling. She stood and watched the car pass, a steadiness in her gaze. So he had come. So what? The memory of swimming at the regulator came again, of Tycho with the girl Willow, of her humiliation. As she climbed onto the bus she stared down the bus driver with contempt, meeting his eye, forcing him to look away. Satisfied, she moved down the aisle. It wasn’t too hot; the weather had moderated. November had experienced weeks of unrelenting heat, building towards the century, and everyone was predicting a brutal summer, but now that it had ticked over into December it seemed it might not be so bad after all.

She sat next to Gene, but he seemed distracted, staring out the window, unaffected by the pre-holiday enthusiasm.

‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.

‘Nothing.’

‘Where’s your trannie?’

‘In my bag.’

She looked at his face. ‘Gene? What is it?’

He looked at her. ‘I said it was nothing.’

She let him be and looked behind them. The back seat of the bus was empty. The seniors were already on study leave, Grainger cramming, aiming for the marks that could carry him into university.

They rode back to Tulong in silence. She attempted conversation a couple of times, but gave up when Gene’s replies remained monosyllabic.

At Tulong, Tessa stood, let Gene get out from his window seat.

‘Bye, Gene,’ she said.

‘Bye, Tessa.’ And then, ‘Sorry. Hope to see you soon.’

‘That would be nice,’ she said.



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