Meg looks like she’s trying to find the right words to say. ‘I guess. But maybe there’s a reason he didn’t want to tell her. Was he scared of her?’
‘What? No!’ I snap and her eyes widen. ‘Sorry, it’s just… Yeah, Nan’s really direct, but she cares about him. My dad has a lot of problems.’ I pause. ‘He’s not easy to love.’
We sit on the floor in silence. My throat is thick with the old shame of having a dad who never showed up. Not being able to invite friends over in case he was having a bad day, or week, or month. As I got older my attitude shifted. I hoped that Dadwould wake up and be happy and sober. That the darkness that was on him for years would vanish.
Now I only wish he’d text me back.
A door closes downstairs. ‘We should go.’
Meg nods. ‘What shall we do about these?’ She gestures to the cameras.
‘Take that black Canon one. We’ll say we’re using that.’ I lift the pinhole camera. ‘I’ll hide this.’
Meg points a finger at the photograph on the floor. ‘And that?’
The image of the woman flashes in my mind. Her arms raised as she rejoices in the destruction around her.
I shiver, but I can’t leave it behind. Dad kept it for a reason. Without turning it over I slip it inside the notebook Meg got me and put it in my bag with the pinhole camera.
‘Everything OK, Michael?’ Nanny Bet shouts up.
I zip my bag.
‘Michael?’ she calls again.
‘Coming!’
Meg slides the plastic box under the bed while I push the drawer back in place, and then we head downstairs.
Nanny Bet stands in the hallway with her arms folded. ‘Well?’
I gesture back at Meg, who’s holding the Canon. ‘Yeah, got one, thanks.’
‘Thanks, Mrs Kenny,’ echoes Meg.
Nan places a hand on my wrist. ‘What were you doing up there?’
‘Nothing. We just tried out the cameras. There was a few.’
She looks from me to Meg, eyes narrowed. ‘I thought I heard a thump. Did you break something or—’
Does she think Meg and I…
‘I dropped the box,’ says Meg, her voice steady. ‘Sorry.’
Nanny Bet blushes. ‘That’s OK. Let’s have another cup of tea and talk about this project. It’s been ages since—’
‘No,’ I say sharply.
Hurt flashes across her face.
I picture Dad looking back at the door. He couldn’t tell her and neither can I.
‘Sorry, we need to go.’
She goes to say something, but then sighs and nods.
‘Love you.’ I kiss her on the cheek.
