The Good Sister(53)

Rose walks out of the kitchen carrying a pink mug. ‘What’s what? Oh.’ She gets a sheepish look about her. ‘Actually, I want to talk to you about that.’ She hands me my coffee and points at the couch. ‘Sit.’

I remain standing. ‘What is it?’

Rose sits and crosses her legs. ‘I know you don’t like staying at other people’s houses, Fern. I know how important your routine is. And that’s why . . . I was thinking . . . well, what if this was your place?’

I put my coffee down. ‘I don’t understand. Where are you going?’

She frowns. ‘Nowhere. I will stay in the main house. And you . . . would move in there.’ She points outside at the structure. ‘It’s a granny flat. It could be your own little place . . . at my place.’

‘You’ve already started building it?’

‘I was going to surprise you. But . . . now you’re here and . . .’ She gives a little shrug and a guilty smile. I look again at the structure. It looks like a children’s playhouse. An oversize dollhouse. Not a place for an adult to live.

‘It will be bigger than it looks now,’ Rose says, reading my thoughts. ‘Once it’s finished, obviously. It will have a bathroom and a kitchenette. It will even have air conditioning!’

‘My flat already has air conditioning.’

‘But your place is blocks away! This way, you’d be right here.’

Rose smiles, but she sounds impatient. Even a little annoyed. So I do my best to disguise my horror at the idea of moving into her backyard dollhouse.

‘Fern . . . don’t you want to be here? After the baby’s born, don’t you want to be a part of his or her life? See him or her every single day?’

I think about this. ‘Yes.’

‘Well, while you’re pregnant, I want to see you every single day. You get that, right? I want to be here for you in case you need anything.’ Now she smiles cajolingly. ‘Ice cream, perhaps? A foot rub?’

Rose stands, picks up my coffee from the coffee table and hands it to me. I don’t have a problem with living with Rose, per se. I’ve lived with Rose for over half of my life. It isn’t even the fact that I am reluctant to upset my routine – I suspect my pregnancy is going to do its fair share of that anyway. It’s the fact that, in saying yes to moving in, I’d be saying no to another life. A life where I’m not entirely dependent on Rose. A life that I’ve been enjoying recently.

‘But I like my place,’ I say carefully. ‘I like . . . my independence.’

But it feels ridiculous, just saying it aloud. I still have dinner with Rose three times a week, I still call her whenever there is the slightest drama in my life. How independent am I really? Rose doesn’t respond, so I guess she’s wondering the same thing.

I look down at my coffee.

‘Is this about Rocco?’ Rose asks, after a short time.

‘No,’ I say. ‘And yes.’

‘I know you like him, Fern. But there is no happy ending to this, you know that, right?’ Rose’s voice is softer now. ‘You saw how it went last night. Rocco is doing well right now. Getting himself started in a new business, travelling. The last thing he needs is to get himself into a complicated relationship. Fern, you’re going to be showing soon. What will you tell him then?’ She doesn’t give me time to answer. ‘I really think it’s better for everyone if you end it with him sooner rather than later.’

I hate it, but I know she’s right. Last night proved it. Wally and I can’t have a normal relationship. We can’t even go out for dinner without it turning into a disaster. She’s also right that I’ll be showing soon. How would I explain that to Wally? Yes, I’m pregnant, but don’t worry – my sister is going to raise our baby?

‘All right,’ I say. ‘I’ll move in.’

Rose nods, but looks at me expectantly.

‘And I’ll break up with Wally.’

Rose nods again. She doesn’t smile, but I can tell that she’s happy with my decision. She leans in for a hug, but this time I’m too fast. I dodge her and head to the kitchen. I can move in and break up with Wally. But a hug on top of that is more than I can take. At least for today.





JOURNAL OF ROSE INGRID CASTLE


After the first night, Billy always came to our tent after Mum and Daniel went to bed. Every night as we played cards, we chatted in cycles about nothing of significance – jokes and stories, comparing notes about teachers, asking each other questions about school or sport or favourite foods. Mum knew what we were up to (we weren’t that quiet), but she and Daniel seemed happy enough to turn a blind eye. I wasn’t stupid enough to think this would last. I knew she would be storing it up, along with a list of grievances that she would use against us when we got home, but, like her, I was having so much fun I found it difficult to care.

On the second night, I took a sip of beer when Billy offered. On the third night, I had a few sips. Mum and Daniel never seemed to notice that there was beer missing, and I loved the way it made me feel close to Billy. We played a different card game each night – Billy’s aim was to find a card game that Fern wasn’t good at (spoiler: he never found one). Every time Fern won, Billy complained and rolled his eyes while I shushed him through giggles.