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Back Man at the Window Save as PDF
Chapters (61)
  1. Cover
  2. One
  3. Two
  4. Three
  5. Four
  6. Five
  7. Six
  8. Seven
  9. Eight
  10. Nine
  11. Ten
  12. Eleven
  13. Twelve
  14. Thirteen
  15. Fourteen
  16. Fifteen
  17. Sixteen
  18. Seventeen
  19. Eighteen
  20. Nineteen
  21. Twenty
  22. Twenty-One
  23. Twenty-Two
  24. Twenty-Three
  25. Twenty-Four
  26. Twenty-Five
  27. Twenty-Six
  28. Twenty-Seven
  29. Twenty-Eight
  30. Twenty-Nine
  31. Thirty
  32. Thirty-One
  33. Thirty-Two
  34. Thirty-Three
  35. Thirty-Four
  36. Thirty-Five
  37. Thirty-Six
  38. Thirty-Seven
  39. Thirty-Eight
  40. Thirty-Nine
  41. Forty
  42. Forty-One
  43. Forty-Two
  44. Forty-Three
  45. Forty-Four
  46. Forty-Five
  47. Forty-Six
  48. Forty-Seven
  49. Forty-Eight
  50. Forty-Nine
  51. Fifty
  52. Fifty-One
  53. Fifty-Two
  54. Fifty-Three
  55. Fifty-Four
  56. Fifty-Five
  57. Fifty-Six
  58. Fifty-Seven
  59. Fifty-Eight
  60. Acknowledgements
  61. About the author

A pair of black brogues stopped in front of him, the punched-leather holes winking at him. Settling on the shoes were grey-cuffed suit trousers. When all was perfectly still and silent, his name was spoken. He wondered if he would ever be a boy who could wear brogues. Would he ever be old enough? He doubted he would, he doubted he would be allowed to get older. Somehow, he knew that if he could ever wear brogues, he’d be safe. His name again and this time he was told to look up. He slowly moved his head. It had to be slow because the gears in his neck wanted to go the other way. It was a three-buttoned suit, the bottom button undone. His eyes froze on the second button, his head wouldn’t go any further, the gears locked, his eyes blinked rapidly but they too were locked.

‘Did you pick something up from Captain Edmund’s room?’

His eyes shut and the gears moved his head up and down.

‘I want you to hide it. You must never mention it to anyone. Do you understand?’

The gears moved, his eyes shut.

‘No one is going to hurt you again. You’re a good boy, never think any different. Do you understand?’ The gears worked quickly, thankfully. ‘Now run to class. If anyone says anything tell them you were speaking to me.’

The boy ran, his face aching with a wide smile, eyes streaming. He couldn’t wipe them quickly enough. The sleeve of his jacket was sodden but his eyes were clear when he entered the classroom. He was told he was late. He apologised and said the boy’s name, and that he was speaking to him. The teacher told him to run faster next time and hoped that Carmody was able to talk some sense into him. When the boy replied that he had done, the teacher said in that case then he didn’t mind the boy being late. This was met with a murmur of approval from the class. The boy sat, feeling inquisitive eyes on him. Carmody was a king and he’d said he would never be hurt again. This caused rapid breathing that pushed the smile back to his face. He fought it. He was a good boy. Thank you, dear God. He knew Carmody would speak to him again one day, and he’d spend every second up to that meeting proving that Carmody was correct. He was a good boy.

The jumping of his heart told him: you can start again.

Thirty-One

THIRTY-ONE

Day 11

Fremantle Train Station

8.50 a.m. Wednesday, 4th November 1965