Read The First Week for Free Online Page B

Wardle spoke to the floor in front of him. He had to get back to his job. Out from Mt Magnet.
    â€˜In that case, it will only be a fine.’
    Nothing about guns. Not Charlie, then.
    â€˜And I’m taking into account the four days you’ve already been in custody. One hundred and fifty dollars. You’ll be free to go when the paperwork’s ready.’
    But hang on. They were going to let this man go, but he already couldn’t pay the bail. How was he going to pay a fine? Marian looked around, expecting someone to step forward and fix the mistake. But no one seemed concerned.
    The usual paper shuffling began, ready for the next case.
    The main door of the court opened. Marian turned to see who was coming in, and realised that everyone else in the row had done the same thing. Two girls hesitated in the doorway. Marian was aware of spiky hair, bright ragged clothes. They made for seats at the back of the room.
    The clipboard man was making his next announcement. ‘Two five eight. Anditon.’
    The name took her breath away. She had the sensation of her insides being sucked suddenly downward.
    Charlie had come silently into the dock, a policeman on either side, and stood where they showed him, facing straight ahead.
    Marian’s ears were filled with the sound of her own throbbing blood.
    He was exactly the same as usual. A bit pale, and dark marks under his eyes. But unmistakably Charlie. His ordinariness shocked her. She had expected … must have been preparing herself for something. What? That he’d be in a strait jacket? Drooling?
    Simon Ingerson stepped forward and bobbed his head at the magistrate, who nodded gravely at him. ‘Mr Ingerson. I take it that you’re representing the prisoner?’
    â€˜Yes sir.’
    The prisoner.
    Marian opened her mouth. No sound came out, but Charlie turned as though she’d spoken. His expression didn’t change and he turned back quickly towards the magistrate.
    Marian wedged one hand under her knee to stop it shaking and held her bag tightly with the other. The roaring in her ears drowned out the sounds of the court.
    She watched the back of the gangly policeman as he did his mumbling. That uniform was too big for him. The collar was stiff and pushed up into the base of his skull when he sat down. New shirt. Why would he choose such a big shirt?
    Perhaps he was one of those people who always got leftovers when things were handed out, uniforms. Too shy to push forward. The runt of the litter.
    â€˜Do you understand the charge, Mr Anditon?’
    â€˜Yes,’ Charlie muttered, staring downwards. One of his escorts jogged his arm. ‘Yes sir,’ Charlie said, his face a dull red.
    Marian glanced quickly at the magistrate. He’s nervous. He doesn’t mean to be rude.
    The magistrate was reading through a pile of papers. Marian looked back at Charlie. As she watched, he twisted his right shoulder up and back. Both his escorts moved in closer, but he wasn’t planning anything. It was a completely unconscious stretch, she could have told them that. He does it when he’s thinking. She was overcome by all that she knew about Charlie. The way his hair kinked behind his ears. The star shaped scar on the knuckle of his left thumb from trying to chop wood when he was four.
    She should tell them everything. So they knew how to look after him. But before the thought was formed properly she recognised the futility of it.
    It seemed impossible to get enough air into her lungs. She dragged her gaze away from Charlie and examined the ceiling. The central section was all framed panels, like a skylight. But it couldn’t be. They were only halfway up the building. There was a great weight of offices over their heads, people sitting at desks, moving around, answering phones. Oblivious.
    â€˜I understand you’d like more time to consult with your client, Mr Ingerson?’ the magistrate was saying, still in the same