The Shadow House(55)

‘Good.’

‘And your arm?’

Ollie looked at the dressing on his forearm as if surprised to see it there. ‘Fine. Jenny put some stuff on it.’

‘Just some Betadine,’ Jenny said, nodding at the open first-aid kit. ‘I hope that’s alright?’

‘Of course.’ My voice came out high and tight.

‘It’s a pretty bad cut. I was worried about infection.’

‘Really, it’s fine.’

‘He says he came off his skateboard.’

‘Yes, I know. I tried to clean it up myself this morning but apparently my first-aid skills weren’t good enough.’

There was an awkward pause.

I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful, I really didn’t. I knew Jenny was just trying to be nice – but all I could hear was Layla’s voice; all I could see was that note. And all I could think about was how long it would take me to leave Pine Ridge.


Once Jenny had gone back upstairs, I pulled down our suitcases from the top of my wardrobe, opened them up and started throwing things in. Clothes, shoes, toothpaste, books. Anything I could lay my hands on, in it went. But after twenty frenzied minutes, I stopped. Normally, packing made me happy. Usually, it gave me a sense of regained control, of freedom and possibility. But this time I just felt tired. Numb. On the bed, my floral print bag looked like an inappropriately vibrant coffin: bright pink on the outside, but with the sad remains of a life laid out inside. My body hurt, my eyes ached.

‘Mum?’

I looked up to see Ollie standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

‘I just want to say sorry. For this morning. I was out of line. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.’

I blinked. ‘Oh. Okay. That’s very adult of you.’

He shrugged. ‘I was being selfish.’

I hung my head, my heart cracking. ‘No, I’m sorry. It was my fault. Everything is my fault.’

He crossed the room and I pulled him into a hug, wrapping my arms around his ever-expanding shoulders and breathing him in. Under all the deodorant and hormones, there was still a faint trace of crumpled pyjama.

I was still happily sniffing when Ollie pulled abruptly away and stared at the snarl of belongings on the bed. ‘What are you doing?’ he said.

‘What?’

‘Are you packing?’

‘Um.’

‘Are we leaving?’

‘Well—’

‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘Just … no.’

I threw my hands up. ‘I thought you’d be glad! You said Pine Ridge was a dump. You said the lentils would kill you.’

‘Did I?’

‘Yes!’

‘Well, I changed my mind.’

‘Really?’

‘Well, not about the lentils, they’re awful. But the rest of it’s not too bad. The people are mostly cool, and Vi says that the school down the road is alright. She’s going to ask if she can go next year.’

‘School, huh?’ I smiled wryly. ‘Not keen for home education, then?’

‘Hell no.’

‘Well, I must say I’m shocked.’ I looked at the half-packed bags on the bed. ‘So you really want to stay?’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t especially want to go. And’ – he blushed – ‘I kind of told Vi I’d go to that solstice party with her, so …’

There was a smudge of something on his cheek: mud or chocolate or Vegemite. Reflexively, I leaned over and rubbed it away with my thumb and he grimaced, just like he used to do when he was small. I considered his long frame, his coarse mop of hair. Time was so weird. When children are small, every single day lasts an eternity; the hours pass so slowly, it’s like the clock is ticking backwards. But then one crazy day, you look up and your firstborn is closing on five foot six, has bumfluff on his chin and is going to parties with girls.

I took a breath, thinking. Ollie wanted to stay. And, before today, so had I. I’d chosen Pine Ridge because it was perfect for us, because I’d believed it was what the kids and I needed – and getting there had not been easy. I’d fought for our new life, at great personal risk, and it wasn’t right that I should be bullied into giving it up. I was done with being manipulated. I was done with being pushed around.

Turning the floral suitcase upside down, I emptied the contents onto the bed.

‘Okay, then,’ I said, reaching up to ruffle my son’s hair. ‘We’ll stay.’





ALEX





24


A couple of days later, my phone rang during a food prep meeting in the community hall – a meeting that, following the decision I’d made, I felt I should attend in the spirit of making an effort.

I’d just settled Kara in the creche room and taken a seat in the circle when my pocket began to buzz rhythmically. I pressed my hand against it, wondering if anyone would notice if I slipped away … but when I looked up to find Kit watching me, I stayed put.

The air between us felt thick with energy, and he kept trying to catch my eye as if attempting to communicate telepathically. I kept my head bent and my gaze low, silent thoughts of cardboard boxes and packing tape mixing with memories of his breath on my neck, his hands on my skin …