The Gaps by Leanne Hall (classic literature list .TXT) 📕

that Marley has sent us. ‘HUNT FOR DOCTOR CALM’, says the headline.

Doctor Calm is the name the media have invented for Yin’s abductor, a fancy villain name for a monster who can’t be stopped. I try to read the report, take it all in, but my head swims.

Sarah follows up quickly with the video of the press conference. I put my headphones on and the quilt over my head.

Senior Detective Zambesi, the head of the newly-named Operation Panopticon, speaks as cameras flash around him and microphones cluster. He has a craggy, Hollywood-handsome face and the reporters love him.

‘As you’re aware, Karolina Bauer attended the same school as Yin Mitchell for a period of one year as an exchange student. We can now confirm that an earlier case, that of Emma-Maree Jones, also has connections to the school. That young girl had her name on a waiting list to attend the school when she reached Year Seven.’

Petra was right.

One of the reporters asks a question, but it’s hard to hear what she’s saying.

‘I can’t comment on any other cases,’ replies Zambesi.

‘How many abductions or assaults do you think Doctor Calm may be responsible for?’ another reporter asks.

‘That’s your name, not mine.’ Zambesi’s mouth tightens with annoyance. The reporters clamour for attention but he holds up his hand.

‘Our main objective today is to tell you what we know about this man. He is between the ages of thirty and fifty, with medium skin tone. He is of average height, or tall with a slight stoop, and of average build. He is highly educated and well spoken. He may be in a prominent or respected position in the community, and it’s possible he has a job in which he travels frequently. Friends or family will know him to be a gentle and reserved person, and would be shocked to learn he is capable of violence.’

‘Make no mistake, we are looking for an extremely dangerous criminal. His methods are thorough and he may have some knowledge of police procedure. We are looking for an unusually intelligent individual who will not stop until he is caught.’

He calls an end to the press conference, even though the reporters are still wetting their jocks and yelling out questions.

I sit on my bed and let it sink in. I wasn’t expecting them to describe someone so completely bland. Beige beige unusually intelligent beige. A forgettable man with an unforgettable name.

I shut the computer. I try hard not to be sick.

It’s pointless even thinking about any of this police stuff. What can we do with the profile anyway? They don’t want us to discuss the case online. The teachers won’t tell us anything, and our parents don’t seem to know. Would they even listen to us if we went to them with information? I picture telling a teacher or police officer about Mr Chapman staring at my tits and emitting sleazy vibes and even I can acknowledge how tenuous it sounds.

The Hanging Rock cover girl stares at me from my bedside table, ethereal, blonde and disappeared. Miranda. She acted strange right before she went missing.

I saw Yin in the hallway on the Friday before she was taken. Normally we ignore each other—so studiously, so completely I’m surprised no one notices—but this time we stood and looked at each other, eye to eye, for a few seconds. It was odd. Had she been trying to tell me something? Did she have a premonition that something was about to go wrong?

If Yin had been trying to send me a message that day, I didn’t receive it. Sarah came up behind me and leapt on my shoulders, and we both turned away slowly, Yin and I, like ships trying not to collide.

DAY 20

Ally stands on Marley’s bed and reads from a phone.

‘Number one: reach ten thousand followers. Number two: make out with someone famous. Number three: take Luca Henning-Smith to the formal. Number four: win Regatta.’

As per usual we are getting ready at Marley’s house because her parents are the slackest and her room hangs right off the back of the warehouse, almost like she has her own apartment.

We’re not being quiet enough, because Ally gets pissy, or as pissy as Ally gets, which is not very. ‘Shh, you guys! Listen.’

‘You’re not going to do any of those things,’ I say from my position at the mirror. Ally has a floppy headband on that definitely has to come off before we leave the house. Her legs are still covered in bruises from self-defence class. Ally has tissue-paper skin, she’s as delicate as the princess lying on the pea.

Even though I’m here in the room with my friends, my mind keeps wandering back to Wednesday in the library and wondering what Chloe thinks of me. Few people can make me that off-kilter.

Why did I even go up to her in the first place? She likes it at the bottom of her lagoon and I came along and disturbed her moss, her leaf litter, her driftwood, her algae.

‘Tal, are you even listening?’ Ally puts her hands on her hips. ‘It’s not my list, it’s Sarah’s.’

On cue, Sarah yells, ‘Someone proper famous! I want you to know that. Not D-list famous. And I’ve got to get this done this year, or by the end of summer, at the latest.’

Both have started early on the vodka, way too early in my humble opinion.

Ally loses steam and slumps to her knees, burying her face in the covers. ‘We shouldn’t have to make bucket lists at our age. It’s depressing.’

She pauses then adds, because Marley has been on antidepressants all year, ‘Sorry Marls, I didn’t mean that.’

‘No probs.’ Nothing much touches Marley. She keeps scrolling on her iPad. In between scrolls she grabs a Tim Tam from an open pack. Ally and Sarah ignore the biscuits, because they’re in a yearlong competition to see who can eat the least.

‘If you want to try pot, I think I know someone who can get some,’ Marley offers.

I feign surprise.