Burnington Gaol

F O U R T E E N | Billy

Billy thought Tony was a nice bloke, but he wasn't in any sort of mood to socialise.

He walked up ahead of them, retracing the same steps he took every morning. What he couldn't understand was why they needed a chaperone to the front gates. They only ever walked the outskirts, the pathway between the inner and the outer wall. All the criminals were over a twenty foot wall made of brick and stone, in courtyards supervised by skilled guards. What did his father think he was? A baby? But then again, it was Addie he really loved – his precious, petite, lovely little daughter who was scared of her own shadow. Perhaps he'd sent Tony for her sake more than his.

The three looped around the old Gaol and found themselves at the front office. Billy smiled at the lady behind the counter – Maud, he thought her name might've been – and she smiled in return. Then he glanced above her, through the reinforced window and into the guard's office. Ed, Billy's father, stood there, leaned up against the table, talking to some pretty little young thing with a lopsided grin on his face. Billy paused for a moment, assessed the situation.

Was his father flirting?

The thought made him nauseas, and he crinkled his nose and turned away. He saw Tony and Addie talking in frantic, angry whispers. Tony's eyes were hard, and Addie looked desperate. It confused him even further, and he approached them.

"Everything okay?" He asked.

Addie looked up at him, but Tony kept his focus on Addie.

"Just fine," Tony said stiffly, after an awkward moment of silence.

"Well, good," Billy said. "Because we're going to miss the bus."

"Of course," Addie mumbled, lowering her eyes.

Billy headed for the front gate and heard Addie say goodbye to the friendly giant. Billy didn't bother. Both of them came to a halt at the bus stop, where Addie took a seat but Billy instead looked back to the gate, making sure Tony was gone, before pulling out a cigarette.

"Billy!" Addie hissed. "What are you doing?"

"Settle down, just having a fag."

"Dad would kill you if he knew you were smoking."

"Dad would kill me for breathing his air." He dismissed, bringing the lighter to his lips.

"I wish you two wouldn't fight so much," Addie said quietly, looking down at her hands.

"Well, I wish he'd stop treating me like a pet dog."

Addie glared at him.

"You know how hard it's been for him. This new job, new home, new town. And, of course, there's Mum – "

"I don't want to talk about it," Billy interrupted, looking away from his sister.

Addie looked up at him with an annoyed expression.

"You can't just keep it all inside."

"Watch me."

"It's not good for you."

"Yeah? And who exactly do you talk to? You keep it in just as much as me."

"I am dealing with it, Billy. I talk to dad, I do my art. But you... you're not. You're burying it."

"Stop."

That one word was filled with so much – raw, agonising pain, aralysing fear. And the way he looked at Addie... he knew that he'd said too much.

From around the bend, Billy spotted the bus coming. He crushed out his cigarette and rubbed his mouth, as if he'd gotten something on his face. Addie grabbed her bag and got to her feet. When it came to halt, they got on and Billy flopped into the third row on the left, Addie one row ahead of him.

"I was meant to ask you, by the way," Billy said, talking over the back of her seat. "About what you said to Dad – how Jimmy wanted you to prove his innocence – you're not really going to do it, are you?"

Addie smiled.

"Of course not," she said. "There was DNA. Fingerprints. No doubt that they did it."

From somewhere deep inside him, Billy felt a strange wash of relief. After all the danger she'd been in during the last few days, the last thing he needed was her chasing after some serial killer.

"Good, because I couldn't live without your cooking. Prison food is torture."

Addie let out a small laugh, shoved his arm off her seat.

"I'll have Tony lock you up for a week. See how you go."

"With this face?" He asked, dragging a hand over his smooth cheeks. "I'll have to stock up on soap-on-a-rope."

Addie laughed.

"Oh, I don't think that'll help you."

© A.G. Travers 2018