Sunny Side Up Part 11

Claud and Buster and I caught a train back to the city, and then a tram down to St Kilda beach. We did bombs off the pier in our undies all afternoon, even though you're not meant to, because there was no one to tell us off.

Everyone was in the shed kitchen when the three of us got back to my place. Mum, Carl, Lyall, Saskia, Willowand Boris. It was kind of nice to have them all there like a family a especially since it was the sort of family that had lit the whole shed with candles and jumped out from behind furniture when we came in, like a party.

'Surprise!' They all shouted at once.

'We've made a special feast!' beamed Saskia. 'To cheer you up!'

'Wow!' I said, sensing all the trouble they'd gone to. The shed had never looked so lovely and even felt magical with all the candles lit. They had even made punch. I gave Mum a big hug.

'How'd you go?' she whispered in my ear.

'We're having dessert first up,' interrupted Lyall. 'Hey, like your suit, Buster.'

'Yeah, suave,' smiled Carl.

'What do you mean dessert first up?' I asked.

'Well', said Carl, 'there's absolutely no reason why you can't have dessert first and the main course later, so, because tonight is such a special night, we're having dessert first. And not just any dessert either.'

'Guess!' squealed Saskia, jumping up and down.

'Frog in a pond?' I asked. They all shook their heads.

'Pavlova?'

'Nah,' said Lyall.

'Custard?' asked Buster. 'I love custard.'

'Can I tell? Can I tell?' shrieked Saskia.

'Wait, Saskia, surely they can do better than that,' said Mum, cheekily.

'Chocolate mousse! I love chocolate mousse too!' said Buster.

'It's so not chocolate mousse,' laughed Lyall. 'Actually, there's a surprise for you too, Buster, but Sunny's surprise is -'

'It's bombe alaska, Sunny! Bombe alaska. Your favourite!' Saskia blurted out, clapping her hands.

'No!' I searched the shed with my eyes for some evidence. 'Where?'

Carl was getting something out of the oven, not the wood oven, but the one connected to the stove. It was bombe alaska all right. Just how it looked in the book. Like a mountain of snowy meringue that was crispy from the oven.

'And now,' said Carl, 'for the most spectacular part!' He poured some liqueur over the top and lit a match, making the whole thing come alive with blue and yellow flames that licked around the sides. 'Flaming bombe alaska! Grab some plates and cutlery, Lyall!'

'Wait!' said Mum, 'we want to give Buster his surprise before it stops flaming!'

Buster was looking nervously around the room as if to say What in the h.e.l.l could beat that?

'Who will do the drum roll?' said Carl. 'Claud? One drum roll please!'

Claud beat her hands on the edge of the table and Lyall and Saskia joined in. I was still transfixed by the bombe alaska and also a bit nervous, in an excited way, about what they could possibly be up to.

And then a woman stepped into the shed. She had blond hair that looked like it might be another colour underneath, and she wore the tightest jeans I'd ever seen on a grown up. Buster went as pale as a sheet.

'Mum!' he said, gently, as though he'd lost his loud voice completely.

Buster's mum held out her arms. 'Come here, you! Got a hug for your old mum? Look at you, all dressed up, too!'

Well, if I didn't cry at Granny Carmelene's funeral, I sure did cry when Buster got his mum back. Even Claud cried and that's saying something. It turned out Buster's mum had no idea about Quinny going to jail. And it took ages to track her down because she had been working on a boat, and not the type of boat with a phone or email. And even though I'd been sort of angry with Buster's mum for nicking off, I didn't want to spoil a bombe alaska occasion with negative emotions. Let's face it, it doesn't happen every day, and did I mention it was worth waiting nearly twelve years for? Besides, I was tired of trying to work out why things were the way they were. I just thought about how we were having Buster and his mum for a back-to-front dinner and that nothing else mattered. That's what Granny Carmelene would have done.

A couple of days later, Dad took me into the bank where Granny Carmelene had her safety deposit box. It was a big one in the city, with circular moving doors and lots of marble. Dad had made an appointment with one of the banker people so we didn't have to stand in line, and got to sit down at a special desk aI guess for people who have a special key, like I had.

'Miss Hathaway, we've been expecting you,' said the banker man as I handed him the key. 'Please, have a seat,' he said, pointing to the chairs behind his desk. Dad and I both sat down.

'Firstly,' he went on, 'I'm very sorry to hear about your grandmother's pa.s.sing. We've been looking after her for over forty years. Marvellous woman.'

'Yes,' I said, beginning to become unbearably curious about what it was that Granny wanted me to keep for her. I watched the man walk away and thought how Buster would have really liked his suit. Dad and I didn't say much. I think he was exhausted from being woken up all night by Flora. That's normal for babies, apparently. So not normal for Dad, though, not since I was a baby anyway.

Soon enough the banker man returned carrying a large flat folio, like the ones artists have, or architects. Maybe Granny had given me one of the portraits of the ancestors, which would be good and all, but not really something I'd want to hang in my room, if you know what I mean.

'Now, Miss Hathaway. I have to say you are a very fortunate young lady.' He put the folder down on the desk in front of us and opened it up. There was a layer of tissue paper, which he swept to one side, and under that was a map, one of Granny's maps.

'Of course!' I said, 'I forgot about the maps.'

'Not just any map, Miss Hathaway. This one is most rare. An original Chinese map dating back to the early 1420s. Only a couple of them have been found in the world.'

'Oh a that map! I know the one. Granny Carmelene had only just found it. It was her absolute prize possession.' I was completely overwhelmed, not just that Granny had chosen me to have something so valuable to her, but also because I didn't really know what to do with the map. I mean it was ten million times better than getting one of the ancestor portraits, but still, what's a girl to do with a map like that?

'Gee, Sunny,' said Dad. 'This thing's probably worth an absolute fortune.'

'We have a valuation certificate and a certificate of authenticity right here,' said the banker man looking over his gla.s.ses. 'Miss Hathaway has inherited something not only of incredible cultural significance, but a fairly substantial a.s.set for a young lady.' He slid a doc.u.ment over to Dad.

'Crikey, Sunny!' He pushed the certificate over towards me. I know you're probably really wanting to know how much that map was worth, but I'm not going to tell you, because in the end it makes no difference. I'm never, ever going to sell it. Granny Carmelene had asked me to keep the map and that's exactly what I was going to do. It was her dying wish after all. Besides, it's undignified to tell people how much things cost. Granny Carmelene said so herself. Boy were there a lot of zeros, though!

'We suggest you leave the map here, safely locked away until you're a little older. How does that sound, Miss Hathaway?'

'Perfect!' I said feeling very relieved that I didn't have to be responsible for it or for someone ruining it by accident, now that I had so many siblings.

'You can access it any time you like,' said the banker man. 'Just give me a call and I'll arrange it for you.' He gave me his personal business card, and I put it in the envelope that Granny Carmelene had left, with the letter and the key.

On the way back to Dad's I thought about making business cards for Pizza-A-Go-Girl, but then realised that pizza making wasn't the only thing I wanted to do, being an entrepreneur and all. Maybe I could have a business card saying Sunny Hathaway, Hare-brained schemes that usually work, which would possibly cover everything that I'm interested in for the rest of my life.

Flora spent all her time breastfeeding or sleeping. It's what babies do. Steph's b.r.e.a.s.t.s had grown to scarily giant proportions on account of all the milk they had inside them, and Steph had stopped wearing normal clothes. She just got about in tracksuit pants and a huge bra, which opened up at the front so that Flora could feed. Sometimes Steph would walk around with her bra all opened up and I didn't know where to look. I was worried that it had become so normal for her that she'd forget one day and go to the shops with everything hanging out. It sure did seem that, for such a tiny little thing, a baby really turned a person's life upside down.

Dad was cooking tuna pasta. 'Want to help me whip up a salad, Sunny? There's a bag of mixed greens in the fridge, and an avocado that needs using.'

'Sure,' I said, opening the fridge door. It was looking like a proper fridge again. There was even cordial. I washed the salad leaves, put them in the spinner and pulled and pulled the cord that made the spinner whiz around. And I realised that I didn't feel that way any more, all spinned up and whirling about like when the wind whips you up on those bl.u.s.tery days. It felt as though all my insides had slowed down and that I didn't have anything to worry about anymore. I could just get back to thinking about inventions a like how to make a poem out of one of Flora's tiny baby sneezes before they got so big they were just like mine.

Just some of the naughty, disgusting and undignified things Willow did:.

1. Clawed at the tiny hole in the couch and stuck her snout inside.

2. Dug up Mum's lettuces and threw them all around the yard.

3. Pulled the clean sheets off the line, rolled on them and stuffed them into her kennel.

4. Picked up a stinking rotting dead water rat at the beach and bolted full-speed with it towards Brighton.

5. Pretended she was deaf when called while in possession of dead water rat and refused to drop it.

6. Rolled in stinking dead and rotting water rat.

7. Ran at high speed with dead water rat towards a group of toddlers.

8. Completely trampled children's sand castle while they screamed hysterically.

9. Dumped stinking, dead and rotten water rat on children's towels.

10. Barked at children's mother who was trying to shoo her away.

11. Rolled in stinking dead and rotting water rat again before running back toward Elwood.

12. Laughed at me when I told her to sit.

13. Knocked over the kitchen-tidy and spread the rubbish all the way down the hall.

14. Put an empty dog food package in Mum's bed.

15. Stole Mum's tango shoes and buried one.

16. Stole my stuffed monkey and almost chewed the tail off.

17. Chewed the lapel off one of Mum's friend's leather jackets.

18. Stole the 'hands free' phone and chewed the antenna off.

19. Chewed one corner off the velvet piano stool.

20. Ate one corner off nearly every cus.h.i.+on in house.

21. Rolled in possum poo at Alma Park.

22. Ate possum poo at Alma Park.

23. Stole a packet of spaghetti and ate it raw.

24. Did a huge sloppy poo on the white s.h.a.ggy rug after eating raw spaghetti.

25. Ate the Da Vinci Code and spread the pages all around the garden.

26. Dug up Mum's stolen tango shoe, chewed the heel off and left it in Mum's bed.

27. Ate Mum's push-up bra in two.

MARION ROBERTS always wanted to be a fas.h.i.+on designer, but she studied science, alternative medicine and psychotherapy instead. She also worked as a chef and taught people how to cook. Marion started writing because she wanted a job she could do in her pyjamas. Also, her friends kept saying her emails were too long, and she needed to find another place to put her stories. She was born in Melbourne, which has always been her hometown.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS.

This book was made extra-possible thanks to:.

Stephanie, Ondine and Tarquin Charlesworth for lending a hand with props, pizzas and cups of tea. Ava Clifforth for being the most excited person about my book, and for her handwritten contributions. The delightful Al Pal for our many phone calls as eleven year olds. Simonne, Nicki, Jen Munz, Kathryn, Al Pal, Guff, Emily, Foxy, Joanna, Jofie and Vivienne for your extraordinary friends.h.i.+p and enormous emotional support in my bleakest moments (that was the old me a please don't cash your credits in all at once). Antoni Jach who noticed I had slunk away from uni and forced me to come back. Rosalind Price for giving me a break and believing in me. Susannah Chambers for her inspired and exacting editorial a.s.sistance. The girls at Shabby club a Jen Ritchie, Tina and Kristi a thanks for the champers. Jonathan, Joh and Paul Chiodo for helping me with very important transitions, Joe Connor and Jen Livingston for their artistic support, Bill Roberts for alerting me to the fact that my dog was depressed, and to Ian Lesser for being the most soft-hearted and funniest criminal in town.

end.