Trust by Kate Veitch Page A

gave a horrible, wordless yell and flung himself at Gabriel; Angie cried out ‘ Finn! ’ in a panic and the boy stopped short, quivering.
    ‘ You’re broken,’ he shouted, jabbing his finger again and again in the direction of Gabriel’s feet, at the two-inch sole of his built-up shoe. ‘We should throw you away! You’re a cripple .’
    ‘Finn!’ said Angie again, her hands flying to her cheeks. ‘Gabriel, he doesn’t mean it. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’
    ‘You tricker,’ Finn was screaming, ‘go away! We don’t want you sharing our house!’
    Oh boy , Stella-Jean thought, getting to her feet, cross with herself for not being quick enough to stop this one, or even see it coming. ‘I think you should all just leave the —’ she began to say, but both Angie and Gabriel were moving toward Finn and she stepped forward too, protectively. Gabriel was the closest and in a second he had Finn’s left arm, just above the elbow, in a pincer grip. With a shriek of surprise and pain, the child crumpled sideways.
    Angie, her hands clasped imploringly, cried, ‘Finnie, tell Gabriel you’re sorry. Please, I know you didn’t mean that!’ She looked beseechingly to Gabriel, ‘I’m so sorry .’
    The look on the man’s face made Stella-Jean go cold inside. Despite the rage and anguish roiling around him, Gabriel’s face was still and smooth, like a mask, his green eyes like chips of glass. Is he feeling anything, at all? Impossible to tell.
    ‘You see, Angie? The children of disobedience,’ he said, and his even, gliding tone was horribly at odds with what was happening. ‘Just as I warned. No, he must learn. He will learn.’
    He shook Finn’s arm, still gripping it tightly, and commenced to haul him, struggling, toward the front door. ‘Time for us to go, my little friend,’ he said. Finn’s face was twisted up in pain and fear.
    ‘Stop!’ cried Stella-Jean. ‘You’re hurting him! Angie, stop him!’
    Angie threw her an agonised look and scuttled after them. By now Gabriel had Finn almost out of the room, out of the house. ‘How could he?’ she said over her shoulder, but Stella-Jean understood, with a clutching of horror, that Angie meant, How could Finn do this to Gabriel? , not the other way around.
    Reaching the front door, she saw her dad standing on the path, panting, in his running gear. He had one hand half-raised toward the stranger who was towing the gasping Finn past him, Angie hurrying behind.
    ‘Angie? What the hell is happening?’ Gerry asked, baffled but clearly ready for action. ‘Are you —’
    ‘I’m fine, it’s okay,’ said Angie breathlessly. ‘We’re just going!’ Then they were past him, out the gate and heading toward a van that was parked at the kerb.
    As Stella-Jean hurtled after them, Gerry grabbed her wrist, pulling her up short. ‘Wait up Stella, wait up. What’s going on?’
    ‘Dad, I —’ she said, trying to tug away.
    ‘Stay! Here!’ he barked, holding her. ‘Tell me what’s happening. Who is that bloke?’
    Stella-Jean gulped in air, trying to find words. ‘That’s, uh – Gabriel, from the church, he’s moving in to Angie’s house and I – uh – Finn chucked a wobbly and went for him and then Gabriel —’ she made a helpless gesture toward her own elbow ‘— and now he — Look, he’s just carting him away! Da-ad! ’
    The others were in the cabin of the van now, and the engine started up; they were about to drive away.
    ‘Let them go,’ said Gerry firmly. ‘I don’t want you getting involved. Let her sort out her own bloody problems.’
    ‘But, Dad, what about Finn ?’ Her father had released Stella-Jean’s wrist now but there was no use running after them, the van had already pulled away from the kerb.
    ‘Maybe it’s time somebody took a firm hand with that kid. Maybe somebody’s finally going to set some boundaries.’
    ‘ I take a firm hand with him! I set boundaries!’ Stella-Jean cried.
    ‘I know you try to, Stell,’