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I remembered to check out the house across the road. Essie was right about how rundown it was. There were dirty plastic garden chairs on the porch, set up as if they'd been used recently a" not like everyone else's, where the outdoor benches were just for show. I was about to take a closer look when their front door opened, but I chickened out and took off down the street.
I was pumped up for going home and explaining to everyone what had really happened to Essie that morning but I had to see Chloe first and it was kind of on the way. Mum would have gone straight back to work anyway. She wouldn't be home till five.
As I walked, I clenched my fists, rea.s.suring myself that I wasn't going to let Mum and Sam talk over me this time.
Essie's street turned off into a wide avenue that stretched in a perfectly straight line all the way to Beaconsfield Parade and the bay. The ma.s.sive plane trees gave shade but there was no getting away from forty degrees.
This was the route I always took. My non-existent sense of direction was a big joke in our house. Dad always used to tell our friends that the reason we still lived in a tiny worker's cottage with a mean extension was because I'd get lost in anything bigger. I never minded when he said it, though. You only had to look in his eyes to know there was nothing nasty there.
Dad made maps for a living. That was his thing and it made the joke about me even funnier. He'd been drawing maps for me on napkins or sc.r.a.ps of paper since I was old enough to get around by myself. I had five years' worth now. They'd got bigger and more detailed when Mum insisted we had to move away from the bay to the eastern suburbs two years ago. I had to catch two trams to school or to Essie's or Chloe's, which were all within walking distance of each other and together made St Kilda still feel like home.
Today the road to Chloe's seemed longer than usual. The shade was finished now I'd turned east, and palm trees marked the distance along the bay. The sky looked innocent enough a" bright blue faded to almost white on the horizon a" but there was a sinister hot wind. The roads were quiet, shutters across bay-facing windows.
This walk was so familiar. I thought about Essie's promise of a secret and how exciting that felt compared to the rest of my life.
Maybe for once I wouldn't be on the outside looking in. Home was clogged with whispering, thick with Mum's bad moods, or Sam sprawled out all over the place as if his rapid growth was a major achievement we all had to make room for. I expected to come home one day and find his leg sticking out of the window and his arm shoved out the chimney like in Alice in Wonderland. Even Chloe didn't tell me everything.
Still, getting the secret from Essie wasn't going to be easy. Maybe she was playing me, but I felt wiser now and I had a hunch the secret had something to do with the James in the letter.
It didn't matter how late I was because Chloe was even later. Her dad's bar was opening up for the day and there was no sign of her. I walked over to the boardwalk and squinted in the full sun to look out at the water. It was only nice here when it was quiet like this. Chloe said the sea was full of condoms, needles and human c.r.a.p and I guess she was right, but I liked the way I felt when I looked at the wide expanse to the horizon. It opened me up.
As I read a text from Sam a" come home asap a" I felt myself shrinking back inside. Maybe Mum hadn't gone back to work. They could all be at home now arguing about Essie and my part in it. Sam would be stabbing me in the back. Dad would only pipe up if things got really nasty. Maybe Sam wanted me there just so I could see how clever he was at winning Mum.
Turning away from the water, I felt beaten by the heat and unsure of what to do.
*Hey, Hannah.'
I spun round again and the sun hit my face. *Hey.'
It was Chloe's older brother, Evan, which meant that everything I'd just been thinking about had vanished. Mythical Evan. I knew him backwards. Evan of the ruffled brown hair and cinnamon-coloured sleepy eyes that always looked mysterious but never sad. Evan of the loose t-s.h.i.+rts and faded sneakers with laces that were so short they looked like they'd been chewed in half. Evan of the one-sided smile that always made him look like he was thinking about two things at once. In three years I'd never managed to have a conversation with him that didn't make me want to smack my hand against my forehead.
*I'm just waiting for Chlo . . . e,' I said. I couldn't even speak straight.
*She's working today, yeah?'
*No idea. We were just meant to meet. Here. Like, ten minutes ago.'
*Sounds like Chloe.'
*Yeah.' I laughed goofily. I was a road accident when it came to talking to boys. I swear pa.s.sers-by were giving me sympathetic looks and my head filled up with white noise so that what Evan said next sounded m.u.f.fled.
*Sorry, what?'
*We should go for a drink . . . a coffee or whatever you like. Or a gig? Next weekend?'
*Um. Oh, right.' A hot gust of wind blew my hair across my face. This was some kind of apocalypse and the best feeling of my life.
*Is that a . . . yes?' He had his hands in his pockets, and tilted to one side like he was trying to read my face.
*It's a yes. Yes.' I s.h.i.+elded my eyes so I could see his expression properly but Chloe's came into view.
*What's a yes?' Her face was open and bright, beaming at the two of us.
*Just a yes that I'm heading home,' I said.
*Aww, not yet a" I just got here!' She laughed so the gap in her front teeth showed, and came forward to kiss me on the cheek, pressing her damp hair into my skin. She smelled of chamomile. She was in her tight black vest and low-cut black shorts that showed off her tan and belly-b.u.t.ton ring and made her look like my big sister instead of my best friend.
*What kind of mood is Dad in, Chlo?'
*Usual stress. The band for this arvo is stuck on the freeway so he's looking for someone else.'
*Great, like it would ever occur to him to ask me.'
*Ev, your band sucks.'
*Ha, really? Well, if you're very nice to me I might let you play triangle for us one day.'
Their fights were a joke, literally. I'd never seen them properly mad at each other, not like Sam and I. They started shoving each other playfully on the boardwalk, oblivious to a couple of joggers who were forced to navigate round them. I felt awkward, spying on their little world.
When they stopped and Evan looked at me I knew something had s.h.i.+fted, there was a new feeling between us. I'd wanted it for ages but now I had no idea how to handle it.
*Better scoot. See ya.' He touched my arm as he left and I looked at Chloe to see if she'd noticed but she was busy texting someone. I wanted to tell her about Evan so badly but that was impossible. Before I realised it was a dumb idea, I was telling her about Essie instead.
*Whoa. Your nanna is mad,' she said.
*She's not mad exactly.'
*She faked her own death!' Chloe laughed. *She sounds like a riot.' She put her arm around me. *Come on, chick, it's not your fault your nan's a bit nuts. Lighten up. Hey,' she said, looking more serious, *at least you've got a nan, right?'
Of course. Chloe and I had a rule a" my problems were nothing compared to hers. And fair enough, that was true. Their mum had walked out on the family before Chloe had started school and they'd never heard from her again. Chloe told me they'd even questioned her dad but, in the end, the police decided that her mum had just left.
Every time I thought about it, even the way things were with Mum, I knew I'd never be able to cope if she decided she didn't want us any more. Chloe was strong a" harsh too, but she'd had to be. Even so, I didn't feel like my life was a fairytale, as she called it.
*Right, some of us have work to do,' she said. *You're coming out tonight though, yeah?'
*Can't. Seeing a movie.'
*Not this again. Hannah, you're fifteen and we're back to the h.e.l.lhole tomorrow. You're exempt from parental outings.'
But Tuesday nights had always been movie night for Dad and me. At first it was because Mum had to take Sam to basketball, but even after Sam dropped that, Dad and I had carried on.
*I like seeing movies. Anyway, no one in the group will miss me, I don't fit in.'
*Rubbish. I'll miss you.' Chloe pouted and scrunched the ends of my hair, then glided her hand down my arm, making me s.h.i.+ver. *Movies are lame, c'mon.'
*Don't do that face. I'll come another time, I promise. I just don't want to hurt Dad's feelings. He makes a fuss about Tuesdays a" he buys all the c.r.a.p food we're not allowed to eat at home and he doesn't care what movie I pick.'
*Stop it, I might cry,' she said, deadpan. *Don't tell me you eat those hot dogs.'
*Sometimes.'
*Oh Jesus, I'm gonna vomit.'
I didn't mention the Fantales, especially the way Dad and I would gross each other out by picking caramel out of our teeth.
*Have it your way then.' Chloe kissed me goodbye. Her wet hair left a cold patch on my cheek and the sensation of it rapidly dried in the sun.
Our place was a long tram-ride and a ten-minute walk away. I didn't need Dad's map any more but I still kept it in my wallet.
The combination of school holidays and forty degrees meant the streets were deserted. It was creepy on the empty tram, like a curfew had been imposed without anyone telling me. At least it hurtled along faster than usual. I played over in my mind how I'd handle things when I walked in the door.
Our street had almost identical houses from one end to the other and ours was no exception. From the front, the houses still looked like cute workers' cottages but they all had huge extensions at the back. Some of them had fake gra.s.s and a few weeks ago most had a version of a Christmas wreath from the gift shop on the corner that sold things made out of distressed wood, shabby chic jars and felt garlands. I didn't get why Mum thought we'd fit in better here.
Anyway, we weren't really friendly with people on this street. Mum had two friends she'd known since uni who lived nearby. There was Margot, who had oversized wind chimes on her porch, and Angie, whose house looked like a rundown prison for millions of toys, all squashed against the front windows as if they were trying to escape. She'd let some of her foster kids paint flowers all over the brickwork out the front. It was a nice thought even if it looked a mess. Dad had once painted our front door red as a surprise for Mum while she'd been on a business trip. She'd gone ballistic and he'd had to change it back to dark blue.
He'd just about got away with the real mistletoe for our door this year. Mum called it a weed but she let it stay, though she'd said if he tried to get a real Christmas tree as well, he'd be in trouble.
The tree a" d.a.m.n it. I stopped at our gate and wished I'd taken down the decorations this morning like Mum had asked, even if she was being a psycho. That would just be more ammunition for her.
Taking deep breaths as I walked up the garden path was hopeless in this heat. My spine was a marble run for droplets of sweat tickling their way down. It was impossible to think straight. The further away I'd got from Essie's house, the more confused I felt about what had happened there. For the second time that day I knew there was nothing else I could do but put the key in the lock and let the rest happen.
When I pushed the door open, it didn't feel right. First I thought it was a body I was driving out of the way like when Sam and I were younger and he'd shut me out of our bedroom by lying in front of the door. But as the gap widened I saw Mum, Sam and Dad looking at me from the other end of the hallway. And when I finally got inside, I saw what the heavy thing was a" a suitcase.
n.o.body spoke. Mum clasped both hands over her mouth and turned towards Sam.
*What's going on?' My voice bounced down the hallway, which seemed longer than usual. My family were little dots at one end. I got a feeling like car-sickness and stared hard at them the way you make yourself look at the horizon.
*It's all right, Han,' Dad said, and Mum's hands flew off her mouth, releasing everything she'd been trapping in there.
*All right? It's not all right. It's anything but all right, Hannah.' At first she said my name so viciously I thought she'd packed my bags over the Essie thing, but then I saw it was Dad she was furious with.
*Don't start again, Sara. Let's keep this civil for the kids.'
*Keep what civil?' I said. *Tell me.' As Dad walked towards me I backed away, because I already knew the answer and all I wanted was to go out the way I came and slam the door on it. Mum put her hands back over her mouth. Sam was half-seated on the edge of our dining table and he had his arm around her. I felt like I'd been away for more than just a few hours.
*Is this a joke?' I said. I don't know why.
*A joke?' Sam's voice was loaded with scorn. *Are you that much of an idiot?'
*Calm down, everyone,' Dad said. He stretched his arm out to me but I ducked away and slid across the wall, deeper into the house.
*I don't believe this.'
*It's just got too difficult,' said Dad. *We can't talk about it now with everyone feeling so raw but we will, okay, guys? I'm sorry.'
I'd never seen Dad look so decisive. I shrugged at him, my whole face quivering with the strain of not crying. I refused to blink, my tears clinging to my lashes.
We'd been hanging by a thread. Christmas had been the big test, and I'd been the little kid still hoping for a bit of magic.
Dad left us standing there and went into their bedroom. I didn't move. Time had to stop for a moment, someone had to press pause so Dad wouldn't walk out the front door. It crossed my mind to tell a lie. I could say I was ill or in trouble, something that would get their attention. Girls in my cla.s.s had been to therapy for eating disorders or anxiety and they didn't seem so different to me. Sometimes they looked happier than I felt a" how were you supposed to tell if your level of sadness and worry was more or less than someone else's anyway? Maybe I was really screwed up. Maybe if I told Dad I needed him, he'd stay.
I was only half-aware of Mum and Sam leaving to go into the back room. Mum's voice was in a new register, one I could hardly make out, saying desperate things to Sam as he sighed deeply in between.
*He would have left without telling us if we hadn't come back early,' she said.
*He's a moron. It'll be okay, Mum.'
A delicate thread seemed to stretch between waking up this morning, arriving at Essie's, walking to the beach and coming home to this. It was spider silk, invisible and strong. It could have been the beginnings of a web or the finished shape, but I didn't know which bit I was caught up in.
Scribble, our cat, slunk along one side of the hallway towards them. The air con wasn't on, as if none of us could begin to change a single thing about what was happening.
I heard drawers opening and shutting, a click, a zip and then Dad's footsteps. He stood near me, holding the worn leather case containing all his drawing equipment that he took to work every day.
*Are you taking your maps too?' I said in a small voice. They were in mismatched wooden frames hung all down the hallway. Old maps that Dad had been collecting since he was my age.
*Not today,' he said.
*What about the little globe?'
He nodded guiltily. It wasn't just clothes he was leaving with, it was the whole Dad that was going. We'd found that globe on holiday years ago. It was tiny with a wooden base that had a compa.s.s set in it. He was only leaving his giant atlases because he couldn't carry them in one trip. They were everything to him. But what was I, what were we? How could something that I'd worried about since forever be taking my breath away now that it was finally happening?
Nothing had ever felt as real as this moment. As he came forward to hold me, I noticed his ageing trainers and the grey jeans that Sam and I were always ribbing him about. But was he more unshaven than usual and did he smell the same? Were there more lines on his face? What else had I missed? He hadn't even gone yet but already I felt my grip on him was changing.
I pulled away and sensed Mum and Sam behind me.
*Did you know?' said Mum. It took Dad's warning look to tell me that the question was meant for me.
*Did I know what?' I said.
*That he was leaving? Well, go on, did you?'
*Sara, just stop this. Look at her, for G.o.d's sake. Of course she didn't know I was going.'
*Don't speak to Mum like that!' yelled Sam.
Dad ignored him and tried again to put his arm around me. *Han, your mum and I a"'
*Don't you dare blame this on me,' Mum said. *You're leaving.' She looked at me and pointed at Dad with force. *He's the one walking out, you remember that.'
I just nodded. I'd have done anything to change the look in her eyes. I didn't dare ask Dad where he was going; nothing I said was going to make a difference. I pressed my back into the wall and looked down.
Mum sobbed. *See, you'll never take them from me.'
Dad sighed. *I'd never try.'
I kept staring at my feet. There was still sand between my toes from St Kilda beach, a million miles away. A fat teardrop hit the floorboards.
It wasn't like Mum to show weakness. She'd been the together, older mum at the school gates, the one who stood apart because she didn't have time for gossip or drama. I looked at her, splitting out of her own skin, changing shape somehow a" hot and tired, desperate, angry.