As she waited for a break in the rain, she studied the Federation cottage, seeing it with new eyes.It looked like a child’s drawing of a house.One curtained window on either side of a front door under a pretty pitched roof.It was smaller than she remembered though, and the woodwork had been repainted pink and blue.Her mum had mentioned it in one of her long monthly emails.Rose pink and duck-egg blue, she’d written.Nel had thought it sounded horrendous, but somehow it worked.It gave the cottage a whimsical feel.
She imagined her dad inside, sitting in his armchair by the fire doing the cryptic crossword like he did when she was a kid.When she was twelve, he’d taught her how to decode the clues, revealing the rules and tricks.It had felt like being admitted into a secret club.In recent years, he would text her clues he particularly liked.He’d sent her one only a few days ago:Only fair (4).She’d seen it at work and solved it while taking someone’s blood pressure.Shit.Had she replied?She reached for her phone to check, a wave of relief washing over her at the sight of her answer.
She adjusted the rear-view mirror to look at her face.Her pale skin—which people described as porcelain on a good day—was sallow and dull, and there were dark circles under her blue eyes.She ran her fingers through her long blunt fringe and contemplated putting on some lip gloss but decided she couldn’t be bothered.
The rain wasn’t getting any lighter so she made a run for it, landing one foot in a deep puddle.When she reached the shelter of the porch, she wiped her wet face with her jumper and pushed off her soggy trainers.She knocked twice and turned the handle.
A sense of deja vu came over her as she stepped inside.She stood for a moment, absorbing the strange familiarity of the space.The little table by the door, with a pottery bowl holding keys.The landscape painting that hung above it.Even the floorboards, worn down the middle from years of footsteps in and out.It was all exactly the same.
She could hear voices.
‘Hello?’she called.
‘We’re out the back.’
Nel unclenched her fists and relaxed her shoulders as she followed her mum’s voice to the dining room where she and Lauren sat at the table.The mantel was lined with an eclectic array of bouquets in vases, big and small, bright and sombre.
There was a strange delay as they looked at each other, love and pain and loss unspoken in the space between them.The air felt thick, heavy, then her mum stood and pulled her into an awkward embrace, pressing Nel’s face into her coarse blonde hair, the floral scent of her shampoo overpowering.When they parted, Lauren stood up and drew Nel into a tentative hug.
Nel swallowed.‘Are you okay, Mum?’she asked, immediately cringing at the inadequacy of the question, but what were the right words for this moment?
Cath shrugged sadly.‘I just … I don’t know what I’m going to do without him.’She released a shaky breath, then gestured to Nel’s wet hair.‘I’ll get you a towel.’
Lauren sighed.‘Are you hungry?’
Nel nodded.‘Famished.’
‘I’ll make toasties.’She picked up two empty mugs and went into the kitchen.
Nel warmed herself by the fire.Through the large window, the rolling green hills to the west were cloaked with misty clouds.In the garden below, her nephews were kicking a soccer ball, oblivious to the rain.
She’d seen them six months ago for the first time since she’d returned from Dublin, when they came through Sydney en route to Fiji.They’d FaceTimed while she was away, but seeing them in the flesh had been a little confronting.Archie, who’d been a chubby toddler when they’d farewelled her at Sydney Airport five years ago, was now seven.Leo, at twelve, had her father’s lanky build and easy confidence.Nel watched as he kicked a goal and ran the length of the yard in a victory celebration, while Archie’s shoulders slumped in defeat.
She went to the doorway of the lounge room where her fifteen-year-old niece was curled up on the sofa, long legs tucked up to her chest.Her dark hair fell forward obscuring her face, eyes glued to her phone.
‘Hey there, stranger.Remember me?’
Poppy looked up through swollen eyes and flashed Nel a beautiful smile.A sprinkle of tiny freckles covered her nose and cheeks.
‘Auntie Nel!When did you get here?’
‘Just now.’
Nel sat on the arm of the sofa, a soft hand on Poppy’s shoulder.She felt closer to her niece than anyone else in the family.Notlong after she’d arrived in Dublin, Poppy had emailed asking to interview her for a school project about ‘the person I admire most’.They’d been emailing back and forth ever since.
‘How are you holding up?’
Poppy’s eyes pooled with tears and Nel pulled her into a tight embrace.
‘How long are you going to stay?’Poppy asked when they separated.
‘Not sure.About a week, I guess.It’ll depend when the funeral is.’
Poppy nodded and went to speak, but there was a ping from her phone.She smiled as she read the message and started typing a response.Nel gave her shoulder a squeeze and went back to the dining room as Cath returned with a fluffy towel.Nel pulled the elastic from her hair and rubbed it over.
‘Aren’t they cold?’Nel asked, pointing to Leo and Archie outside.
‘No sense, no feeling,’ Cath said.She had a cliché for every occasion.Nel and Lauren used to roll their eyes behind her back, but now Nel felt a pang of affection.
