An excerpt from Australian writer Kerryn Mayne’s debut fiction novel, ‘Lenny Marks Gets Away With Murder’

“Lenny considered leaving it where it dropped, to be crushed into the gravel and hopefully into oblivion. But Lenny knew she wouldn’t leave it there.”

Lenny rode quickly past the meandering pub patrons. The rush of cold air on her face was sobering. She was struggling to maintain her usual easy balance and worried she would do herself or someone staggering home some damage and she wasn’t entirely sure if drinking and driving rules applied to her bicycle. Erring on the side of caution, she resolved to walk. 

She turned down a side street and walked briskly, taking two more turns before allowing herself to slow down. Her feet felt firm on the ground and the rhythmic crunch was soothing. She appreciated the companionship of her bike beside her; the ticking noise the pedals made as they completed a full rotation was satisfying. The moon was almost full, casting a magical glow over the trees and streets as she passed.

In this light Belgrave felt like it could be the Shire in Middle Earth; except for the powerlines and bitumen of course. Had she happened across Bilbo Baggins, he wouldn’t have seemed at all out of place. She kept tight to the side of the road, in case a car appeared unexpectedly while her reflexes were compromised. The streets looked different in the dark but Lenny knew her way home. 

If it were daytime, the most direct way from where she found herself would be across the green wedge reserve, but even in her state, she knew a woman alone in a park at night was a risky move. With this in mind she kept to the streets, which added almost ten minutes, but given the late hour it seemed irrelevant. She decided as she walked to eschew her morning workout and give herself a sleep-in; she had enjoyed the evening and there was no need to punish herself.

This was almost an entirely new feeling for Lenny and she toyed with how it felt. The odd social occasion she had attended in the past, she had tolerated at best. But to enjoy it – was this the start of a new phase for Lenny Marks? Perhaps she didn’t have to decline each and every invite she received. She could even seek them out. 

She pulled out her phone and reset her usual 5.45am alarm to a slovenly 7am. She didn’t want to give herself time to reconsider. Lenny pushed the phone back into her satchel and realised putting her oily bike lock in there had been a silly thing to do. She pulled it out and along with it came the letter, its reflective whiteness in the moonlight bidding her to pick it up. It was relentless.

Lenny considered leaving it where it dropped, to be crushed into the gravel and hopefully into oblivion. But Lenny knew she wouldn’t leave it there. Her name was on it, as well as the school address and it was likely to find its way back to her. She picked it up like it was contaminated medical waste. A fallen tree offered a place to sit and Lenny pulled the Zenith off the road and leaned it against the weathered trunk. She wanted to open the envelope, she realised. She had to. 

Attached to this envelope was a feeling, like a part of a game, or a ‘choose your own adventure’ book where certain things had to happen or the game couldn’t be advanced. This was one of those things, she was sure of it. Although it could very well be the sort of game that would have her trying to undo everything and yelling ‘Jumanji’ into the air. 

She wiped the moisture from her hands and tore it open. The formalities slowed her down. She scanned the letter, hoping to take in the contents without having to concentrate on every word. The wine and the darkness were affecting her eyesight and the words were not as still as she’d like them to be. 

‘The Adult Parole Board invites you to make a written submission expressing your views about the application for parole of Mr Fergus Sullivan. Submissions made by victims will be considered by the board and may influence any conditions placed upon a parole order.’

Lenny read to the end before folding the letter back into thirds and then a further two times. The smaller she could make it, surely the less weight it could carry. 

Parole: pearl, opal, rope
Submission: missions, nimbi, ibis, bus
Victim: victim, victim, victim

It was for her. She was the correct Helena Winters. The letter had reached its intended destination. 

Lenny Marks Gets Away With Murder by Kerryn Mayne (Penguin Random House, $32.99) is available now. Head here to get a copy.