The Good Sister(52)

Fern knew, of course, but I didn’t have the slightest idea.

‘I’ll teach you,’ Billy said, taking another swig from the can. ‘We can be on the same team. Scooch up.’

Billy crawled over to sit beside me and gave me a conspiratorial wink. His sense of fun was infectious. As we played, his wrist rested on my knee so we could both see the cards. I’d never been so close to a boy in all my life. Periodically, he leaned closer and whispered something to me – the rules, or whether or not he thought Fern was bluffing – and I smelled his scent, a mix of spearmint chewing gum, beer and smoke from the camp fire. He couldn’t convince either of us to try the beer, so he polished off the can on his own. He didn’t even slur his words.

Billy and I lost the game of poker that night, but I didn’t care one bit. For a couple of hours, it felt like I’d tripped and fallen into someone else’s life – someone with loving parents, family holidays and poker games. Someone who knew what it was like to feel happy. And, sometimes, when your world has been filled with fear and anguish, that feeling, even if fleeting, is all you need to carry on.





FERN


Mercifully, Rose doesn’t say much on the way home. I don’t either. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t have, because that incredible sense of fatigue that always follows a sensory meltdown overcomes me. I feel like my eyelids have weights on them. I let them close and lean my head against the cool window. I’m starting to drift off when the car comes to a stop.

‘We’re home,’ Rose says softly.

I open my eyes. ‘No, we’re not.’

‘Okay,’ she says. ‘We’re at my home.’

‘I’m exhausted, Rose,’ I say, although it must be no later than eight o’clock. ‘I want to go home.’

Rose opens her door. ‘You can sleep here tonight.’

‘No, thanks.’

‘Fern,’ she snaps. ‘After everything that has gone on tonight, please do me a favour and don’t argue.’

I cross my arms. I don’t like sleeping at other people’s houses as a rule, not even Rose’s. I never sleep well. Admittedly, I don’t exactly sleep well anywhere, and it’s worse than usual lately as I have to get up multiple times a night to pee. But tonight, especially after everything that’s happened, I just want my own bed.

‘Fern. I don’t have time for this. I had back-to-back meetings today and was only just on my way home when I get the call that you’ve had a spectacular meltdown and I have to come and rescue you. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to do it, but I’m tired and the least you can do is come inside.’ She gets out of the car.

‘If you’re too tired to drive me,’ I say, also getting out, ‘I’ll walk home–’

‘Fern Elizabeth Castle!’ Her tone is sharp, like a school-teacher’s. ‘You’re staying here, and that’s final.’

‘It’s not final. I’m an adult, Rose. I can choose where I sleep.’

Rose raises her eyebrows. ‘If you’re an adult, why do I need to be your round-the-clock carer?’

Rose and I face off for several moments. That’s when I notice what she is wearing. ‘If you were on your way home from work, why are you wearing leggings?’

‘Really, Fern?’ Rose stares at me. ‘After I’ve driven across town to rescue you in the middle of the night, you want to talk about what I’m wearing?’

I want to tell her that yes, I do want to talk about that, but I can’t because Rose turns and stalks into the house before I have the chance. I remain where I am for several moments, huffing and sighing, before finally following her into the house.


As suspected, I sleep badly. Among other things, the sheets on Rose’s spare bed are some sort of polyester blend that makes my skin crawl (I make a note to talk to her about it tomorrow). But the sheets aren’t the main reason for my insomnia. The main reason is that I can’t stop replaying last night, reliving the horror over and over again. Me crawling under the table, covering my head with my hands. Cowering like a child. Having to be rescued by my sister while on a date. It’s little wonder Rose treats me like a child. That’s exactly how I’m behaving. What on earth must Wally think?

Around 6 am, I give up on sleep, pull on my rainbow dress and head to the living room. Rose is already up, sipping a cup of tea on the couch in her dressing gown.

‘You’re awake early,’ she says.

‘I don’t sleep well at other people’s places,’ I say, stretching my neck. Even though I told her this last night, I feel it bears repeating.

‘That dress looks itchy,’ Rose says. ‘Polyester?’

‘Yes. Like your sheets.’

‘I can give you a T-shirt and shorts if you like?’

‘No, thanks,’ I say. Unlike the sheets, the dress is worth the itch.

Rose sits forward on the couch and places her mug on the coffee table. ‘Tea?’

I’m about to decline but then I realise I won’t get out of here without at least having a warm drink with Rose, so I ask for a coffee. I intend to drink it quickly so I can go home to do my yoga and get the rest of my day back on track.

While Rose is making my coffee, I notice Alfie scratching at the door, so I walk over and let him inside. I am closing the back door when I notice the base of a structure in the far corner of the garden. It looks like a cubby house in the process of construction. ‘What’s that?’