Part Nine: The runaway

The bus ride to town was uneventful. There were about ten of others on the bus; all of them much older than me and travelling in small groups, so I didn't really speak to anyone. I listened to my Walkman mostly. I refused to think of what I'd just done.

I got off the bus just outside Gungellan, and walked the rest of the way. My heart was beating furiously as I walked up the drive. The lights were on in the house, and I breathed out. At least there was someone home.

I knocked on the door and waited. My hands were perspiring. The door opened.

'Charlotte.' My father's voice sounded both surprised and pleased. 'We weren't expecting you this weekend, is there something wrong, sweetheart?' Tears welled up in my eyes, and he looked surprised as I gave him a hug. He didn't say anything, just stroked my hair awkwardly and waited.

I managed to pull myself together after a couple of minutes, and by then the whole family had crowded around, worried looks on their faces. I sniffled.

'It's not your mother, is it?' Peter said, sounding worried. Julia twitched a little.

'No.' I replied. 'No. Look, I'm sorry, it was wrong of me to come without asking. I'll be fine; don't worry. I'll get a room in the pub and I'll go home in the morning.' I turned, but Peter caught my arm.

'Are you kidding? You're not going anywhere near the pub. Something might happen, no way. Come inside.' We shuffled inside, and Natalie ran to the kitchen for some tissues. She handed one to me, and dried my eyes with the other.

'There.' She said proudly. 'Now, fess up, Char. What's wrong?' All four of them looked at me expectantly. The silence was nerve wrecking.

'Oh, it's probably just me being silly.' I said miserably. 'But I just needed some time to think…and I was wondering…could I stay for a few days?' I looked at my father pleadingly.

'Of course,' he said softly, 'you're always welcome here, Charlotte, you know that.' He smiled at me and gave my arm a squeeze. Natalie came with me to my room and tucked me into bed.

I tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable. Around eleven I heard the phone ring, and Peter answered it on the speaker. I could hear my mother's voice speaking frantically down the line. Peter yelled at her for a while, telling her how upset I was, and how he was going to get the magistrate to review the custody case. Mum was pretty distraught by the sound of it, and I could hear Alex shouting abuse from the other side of the room.

I peeked around my bedroom door to get a better view, and I felt so guilty at what I saw. My father was still talking to Mum, if you could call it that, but Julia was in the room as well, silently crying. It must be so hard on her. You could tell Peter had never really gotten over the thing with Mum. He didn't stop to look at Julia, he was now intent on giving Alex a piece of his mind.

I covered my ears with my hands, just wanting to get away from it all. It crossed my mind that this was all my fault. Look what I'd done to this family; look at the state these people were in. So many tears; so much heartbreak. All because of me.

I went back to bed, not knowing what to do. I got up and paced for a while, but it didn't help much.

Finally, around three in the morning, I packed my things for the second time in the last twenty hours. I slid silently out the front door and into the garage. I jumped on my bicycle, and luckily the tires were still pumped.

I did feel a little guilty just leaving, after Peter had been so welcoming in letting me stay. But I had to face it – I didn't belong there. I didn't belong anywhere.