The Good Teacher Read online

  When that first black hair appeared last year, she’d had no idea of the real change steamrolling towards her. The regular check for chin hairs was the least of it. But as an added insult, those two hairs grew faster than any other. And at the same time, the hair on her head began thinning. Every morning, her brush was full of loose strands.

  Allison turned away from the bathroom mirror in disgust. The vanity of worrying about her own hair when little Gracie’s had fallen out with the chemo. On Thursday, the girl had let Evelyn feel it when Allison was standing close by.

  ‘It’s soft,’ Evelyn had said.

  A silky halo growing back. Fine, dark gossamer.

  Last night, over the phone, Allison had tried to explain to Nadia how Luke was clearly devoted to Gracie but also absorbed in his own grief.

  ‘Lost—that’s how I’d describe him. He’s got this mournful expression.’

  ‘But he’s looking after his daughter properly?’

  ‘Kind of. There are little things.’ Allison knew they didn’t amount to much on their own but they all added up. ‘Gracie has a packed lunch every day—I always check. But she’s still not wearing the school socks I gave them.’

  She needs a mum. A sexist thing to say, but Gracie needed proper care from someone who was on top of things. A responsible adult to support her. That block of flats wasn’t right for a sick child. Allison didn’t want to overstep but she couldn’t stand by without intervening. Little Zack was also on her watch list; he’d started school without having his four-year-old vaccinations. His mother said Zack was on a catch-up schedule but she’d also mentioned that she’d thought immunisation was harmful. If Zack caught whooping cough or measles or the flu, it could kill Gracie.

  This is a home, Allison thought as she entered Nadia’s kitchen that night. The aroma from the green chicken curry bubbling on the stove, half-filled glasses on the table, beach towels draped over a chair, the dog sniffing around Nadia’s feet. The girls were arguing with their father about being old enough to attend a music concert. Allison tried to talk to Nadia over the noise.

  ‘You’ll be pleased to know I’ve decided on a project.’

  ‘Your children’s book?’ Nadia guessed. ‘Are you getting back to writing and painting?’

  ‘I’m not in the right headspace for that.’

  ‘Jewellery making? Pottery? Singing lessons? Sculpture?’

  Allison wondered if her friend would understand.

  ‘Not a hobby. More of a mission. I’m going to help little Gracie get to Chicago.’

  7

  MAZ

  Create your own destiny. As Maz flipped open the front of her blue and silver notebook, she ran a finger over the mantra embossed on the cover. If only her parents understood. Their destiny wasn’t set in stone. Dad didn’t have to take Panadol Osteo and rub Voltaren gel on his knees for a better sleep. If he could just lose weight, he could move properly again and live his best life yet.

  Every day, Maz scrolled through the fitness gurus, the Insta influencers, the multi-millionaires who were changing people’s lives. Trainers, chefs, yogis, bodybuilders, models, paleo bloggers, ex-athletes, life coaches, dancers, inspirational junkies. They all had hundreds of thousands of followers. One Brazilian bodybuilder had more than thirteen million—half of Australia’s population!

  Inspired, Maz was working on her own diet and fitness plan. Maz knew she could do it too. Sure, it would take hard work but she was prepared for that.

  And Dad would be her first client. Her guinea pig. She needed something to give him a kick start. Certainly, Joseph’s death had shocked Dad last year but it didn’t linger in his mind.

  Luke’s roster aligned with hers today so they were meeting for a late lunch in the gym cafe. Maz planned to ask for his advice. Em-Jay had started teasing Maz about the amount of time she was spending with the new instructor.

  ‘I’m getting jealous, Maz. I thought I was your best friend and mentor here.’

  Luke knew much more than Em-Jay about muscle movement and development. And now he was teaching her. His knowledge also came in handy for Gracie’s treatment. Last week, after the bad prognosis had flattened him for days, Maz got him to focus by asking how immunotherapy worked. He could understand it and explain it. But the prognosis had scared the shit out of them all. When Maz told her parents that Gracie could die within a year if she didn’t get the treatment in America, Mum had burst into tears.

  Maz had already eaten her homemade salad by the time Luke arrived for their late lunch. While he munched on the SuperGreen Bowl from the cafe, Maz explained her plan for her parents. She hoped it would be a helpful distraction for him.

  ‘I’ve written out a program. The tricky part will be getting Dad on board.’

  ‘He needs some kind of quick incentive,’ Luke said.

  ‘Like a reward?’

  ‘Yep. Lose three kilos and you can … what does he like doing?’

  ‘Going to musicals.’

  She didn’t tell everyone about her parents’ passion. They sang together in a choir at Seaforth every Wednesday night. Cute but daggy.

  ‘Okay, so look at the dates for a musical,’ Luke said. ‘Aim for him to lose three kilos in time to buy a ticket for the night.’

  ‘Great idea!’

  ‘And, of course, do the “before” photos so he can see how much he’s lost.’

  ‘I might get some proper photos taken,’ she mused.

  Curtis would do the photos for free, wouldn’t he? She could pay him later, once the program took off.

  ‘Do you mean professional shots?’ Luke asked. ‘Are you planning something else?’

  ‘I want to set up an online program.’ It was the first time she’d said it out loud properly. ‘Mum and Dad are just the beginning.’

  Luke listened so intently, without judgement, that she didn’t feel embarrassed telling him. When she’d vaguely mentioned the idea to Em-Jay, her friend had said: ‘Who do you think you are? Kayla Itsines? Michelle Bridges?’ But everyone had started somewhere and worked their way up. So could Maz.

  ‘That’s awesome.’ Luke smiled.

  As he said her favourite word in his deep voice, Maz felt he was giving her his tick of approval. She decided to tell him more.

  ‘I’m planning to do a nutritional course online to learn about metabolic rates and calculating macronutrients. And maybe a marketing course too.’

  ‘I love your enthusiasm, Maz. There’ll be no stopping you! I looked into online courses a couple of years ago …’

  ‘We could do it together,’ Maz suggested.

  She could picture it. Celebrity couples doubled the potential market. And she and Luke complemented each other—her youth and vitality, his life story and life experience. What a team! They’d be the new sensation in no time.

  ‘Happy to help, but I can’t commit to anything right now.’

  Flipping hell, she was an idiot. Why had she said that? Maz checked the time on her Fitbit. She needed to get ready for the next class. But she really wanted his advice on something else.

  ‘I’ve got a friend over in Thailand who’s selling supplements. I’m trying to get some for Dad’s arthritis. But I also thought … maybe I could sell them here too. What do you think?’

  Oakley had some contacts in the factory and suggested she give it a go. He made it sound like easy money.

  ‘As long as they’re legal, I don’t see why not.’ Luke shrugged. ‘There’s a big market. You’d have to work out which ones are harder to get here. Which would sell best.’

  ‘Thanks, that’s good advice. I’ve actually been setting up a website.’ She took a breath. ‘Do you want to see it?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  He leant in closer to view the images on her phone. Maz had to resist the urge to run her palm over his spiky scalp. Concentrate, she told herself. You do not want to be in a relationship with him. Too complicated. But Luke was lovely and kind, and Gracie so sweet.

  ‘The website buil
der is easy to use,’ Maz said. ‘But I’ll have to make sure the site’s mobile-friendly.’

  She’d taught herself how to do it all online. The opening page had a photo with a big headline. Be your best self. One of Curtis’ pictures of her from years ago, before he’d started at the newspaper. He’d been taking shots to put in his portfolio. Out on the headland at Long Reef, Maz stood tall and strong in her crop top, a hang-glider behind her right shoulder. Its blue wing matched her blue shorts. The hang-glider had been part of Curtis’ plan. They were always jumping off the cliff there; Curtis just had to pick the right angle and the right moment to catch one in the background. The text below the photo said:

  Do you want to live your best life? Our supplements are medically proven to help you do just that.

  Make you feel better. Live better. BE better.

  BE there for your family, your partner, your kids, YOURSELF!

  Last night, she’d been playing with different words. Maz’s Marvellous Medicinals. Mind-blowing. Stunning Supplements. Super Supplements. Vital Vitamins. Vitality. Vim—was that retro-cool yet or still a cleaning product? Vivacious! Vibrant. Dynamic. Awesome. Maz had felt awesome at the thought of helping others.

  ‘This is amazing, Maz. So professional.’

  ‘Thanks. The one thing I can’t decide on is a name.’

  Luke read through the page again and then looked up at her. ‘Antidotes for a better life,’ he announced. ‘That’s what you should call it: Bio-Antidotes.’

  ‘Oh my God, yes! Bio-Antidotes,’ she repeated. ‘That’s perfect. I love it! Does Gracie take any supplements?’

  ‘My wife was into all that but I haven’t had time to follow up. Do you think …’ Luke tapped his fork against the empty salad bowl. ‘Could you look into supplements to boost Gracie’s immune system?’

  Wow—he was asking for her help.

  ‘I’ll do some research and get back to you tomorrow,’ she promised.

  ‘Obviously I’ll check with Dr Rawson. I wouldn’t give anything to Gracie without his approval.’

  Among all those herbal solutions online, Maz knew she could find something to help Gracie live her best life.

  Maz floated through the next class, assessing the punters not for their correct posture but for their potential as clients of her supplements business. If she started immediately, she could make some money for her birthday party. And after that, the sky was the limit. Between the online program and the supplements, Maz could create an income stream to make her rich. She’d buy a new car. So many of her friends had brand-new cars—Em-Jay even had a red Mini with white stripes. Super cool! Some of them mocked Maz’s thirteen-year-old Barina but she refused to go into debt; she’d earn the money first. As much as Maz loved her parents, she would never, ever end up like them. She planned to be slim and trim, healthy and wealthy.

  Over dinner, Maz outlined the diet and exercise program to her parents. They stared at her with tired resignation. She had to fire them up.

  ‘Let’s set some targets—twenty kilos for you, Dad, and fifteen for you, Mum.’

  ‘Okay, love, we’ll do our best,’ Mum said. ‘I know we need to lose it.’

  ‘The program begins now,’ Maz instructed. ‘Fruit for dessert. And then we’ll do a short walk.’

  ‘You’re a tyrant. Are you sure we’re not being filmed for The Biggest Loser?’ Mum laughed and held her arms out for a cuddle. Maz felt the heavy breasts and podgy tummy against her own body. Soon, that would all be gone.

  After the walk, which had been at the slowest pace ever due to Dad’s sore knees, Maz curled up on her bed with the laptop. Searching for ‘cure for cancer’ brought up three hundred million results. She refined it to ‘supplements—immunity—chemotherapy’ and that showed two million results.

  Maz clicked on a random entry and then another. It was a bit confusing. Despite being natural, some of the supplements seemed to interact with the cancer drugs. Mushrooms could increase the risk of bleeding, while green tea could decrease the effect of some chemo. Green tea?! And she’d thought green tea had so many health benefits.

  On another website, she found an article warning against echinacea, valerian root and garlic. Honestly, garlic? In the next click, there was a list of supplements you should take instead. But hadn’t someone else said not to take those?

  Cat’s claw—that was the sort of thing Gracie needed; a wild cat scratching and fighting against the disease. Maz read some of the reviews under the product list.

  —I’ve been taking it for three years. All my symptoms have gone away! The doctors can’t believe it. (Sally-Anne, Washington State)

  —Be careful. I took this for four weeks and it made me sicker. (Miguel, Taiwan)

  Hmm, it seemed to work for some people but not for others.

  Another page brought up mushrooms with cool names like Turkey Tail and Lion’s Mane; they contained immune-boosting polysaccharopeptides. That sounded impressive. Would Luke know what that meant?

  Miracle Chinese cancer cure! screamed the headline on the next website. That was fifteen years ago, so obviously it hadn’t cured cancer. Another click and she discovered a traditional Chinese formula of sixteen herbs to stop the spread of cancer cells. Unlike other pages, this website had sensible subheadings and detailed diagrams. She read it over and sent the link to Luke. I think this Detox for Cancer would be good. Do you want to show it to Gracie’s doctors? I can order it if they approve.

  Maz imagined being the one to cure Gracie. Not the specialist in the Sydney hospital, nor the experimental treatment over in America, but ordinary Maz from the ’burbs, doing her research on supplements and heathy eating and beating cancer with natural goodness. Gracie would thrive, Maz’s business would go viral, and Luke would become a partner in her online program.

  She could save Gracie when she hadn’t been able to save Joseph.

  If she told Mum and Dad, they’d say it was a pipe dream. They were old school—thought that only doctors had the answers. And pharmaceutical companies. They believed everything they heard on the TV news but they didn’t see the other sources—those amazing stories on Facebook and the web. Her parents didn’t realise you could look outside the box, set up a new system, create your own destiny.

  Maz loved the word destiny. Becoming what you were meant to be. Achieving your potential. That one word said it all.

  That night, Maz dreamt her Bio-Antidotes saved Gracie’s life.

  8

  ALLISON

  ‘When are you gonna die?’

  Allison spun around to see Zack in the reading corner, his face screwed up as he asked the question. Instead of answering, Gracie threw a puzzle piece at him. As Allison rushed over to intervene, she wondered if the story this morning had set him off. In circle time, she’d read them a book about being sick.

  ‘Zack, that’s not kind.’

  She shepherded them both back to their tables and clapped her hands for the attention of the whole class.

  ‘Okay, Wombats. We’re going to do a drawing of our—’ She was about to say house when her gaze fell on Gracie. Her house had been burnt to the ground. And she couldn’t say family because Gracie’s family had also been wrecked.

  ‘A drawing of our …’

  —our bedroom …

  —our pet …

  —our favourite toy …

  With every option, Allison saw the TV images: firefighters in helmets and visors; blackened cars; koalas drinking from water bottles; a discarded doll, bright and colourful in the grey ashes. Gracie had been in the midst of all that. The small town of Hythorne had flashed across their television screens in late October. Farms and livestock destroyed, half the main street gone, four lives lost, dozens more injured. Unlike the bushfires in July and November, which had been ignited by lightning strikes, Hythorne’s was deliberately lit. An arsonist in the forest on the edge of town. Gracie’s mother had been trying to release the horses from the stables when the fire hit. She’d spent five days unconscious
in hospital before succumbing. An unbearably awful death. And her heroic efforts were for nothing. Not one of the horses had survived.

  ‘Can I draw my dog?’ Zack called out.

  ‘I don’t have a dog,’ whined Evelyn.

  ‘I want a puppy called Marmalade,’ Gracie announced.

  Rubbing her temples, Allison blinked at the expectant little faces, all waiting for Mrs Walsh to make a decision. Gracie didn’t seem distressed. The lesson plan was about location—the child’s house discussed in relation to the school, the oval, the shopping centre and so on.

  Allison made a decision.

  ‘A drawing of where we live right now.’

  She’d been considering the idea for two weeks. Mulled it over during the long nights while listening to the strange noises echoing through her empty house. But it was only at this moment, in the middle of the lesson, that Allison fully made up her mind.

  After school, Allison collared Luke by the playground, asking Zack’s mum to keep an eye on Gracie while they moved out of earshot. She didn’t want an audience for this discussion; Zack or his mum would probably sell the information online. Last Friday, Zack had taken Winnie the Wombat home, along with the exercise book to detail her adventures over the weekend. The book had come back to school with a list of objects for sale—a PlayStation, an iPad, a gold necklace. Zack stood at the front of the class, asking if anyone wanted to buy them. An entrepreneurial five-year-old; she’d have to speak to his mother if it happened again.

  Allison made the offer to Luke as casually as possible. ‘Now that Gracie has started chemo, do you want to stay at my house? Just to get away from the holiday flats while you’re looking for somewhere else to live.’