Josh turns around and I quickly avert my gaze as he asks, ‘Do you want milk or sugar?’
‘Yes, please. Milk and one sugar each,’ Mum answers for both of us.
Josh dumps a carton of milk and a tea-stained sugar pot on the table. ‘Help yourselves,’ he says, as the old-fashioned kettle starts to whistle.
I reach for the biscuits. YoYos, they’re called.
‘So Josh,’ Mum says, ‘what do you do?’
‘I work at a garage in Mount Barker,’ he replies.
‘Doing what?’ she prompts.
‘Fixing up cars.’
‘How far away is Mount Barker?’
‘About twenty Ks further down the Princes Highway.’
‘That’s right, it’s kilometres here, isn’t it? We’re used to miles.’
I yawn. Loudly.
Josh glances at me then his head shoots in the direction of the door.
‘Dad’s back.’ He gets up and goes off down the corridor.
Mum immediately starts chewing on a painted-pink thumbnail. ‘Do you think I should go to the door to meet him?’ she whispers across at me. She looks nervous.
‘No. Wait here,’ I tell her. ‘And stop biting your nails.’
She snatches her hand away from her mouth and smooths down her medium-length dyed-blonde hair. A wave of compassion momentarily floods me and dies away again. Listening, I hear the door open and close, the murmur of male voices and then Josh reappears in the kitchen, closely followed by his dad. Mum leaps to her feet and almost topples her chair over. Reaching back to grab it, she knocks the table, spilling tea over the green plastic tablecloth.
‘Sorry, I’m so clumsy,’ she apologises, flustered.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Michael booms. ‘Josh, whack a tea-towel over that, mate.’ Then Michael turns back to my mum. ‘Cindy,’ he says warmly, shaking his head. ‘At last.’
‘Hello, Michael,’ she says shyly. They step towards each other and awkwardly embrace, not quite managing a proper hug.
Josh looks at me and rolls his eyes. I smirk back at him.
Mum breaks away and turns to me. ‘This is Lily.’
Michael comes over and places his hand on my shoulder. ‘Don’t get up, don’t get up,’ he insists, even though I was planning on doing no such thing. ‘Good to meet you, Lily.’
Michael is in his early forties and older than Mum by about eight years. She was only nineteen when she had me. Mum’s five foot eight, but Michael doesn’t tower above her at about five foot ten, and he’s chunky compared to her slim physique. He has browny-grey hair, a weathered face and kind chocolate-brown eyes. His Australian accent is strong and his voice is loud, but he’s not overpowering. Despite all my intentions, I instantly like him. I wonder if he knows what he’s let himself in for?
‘Chuck the kettle on, son,’ he tells Josh. ‘I haven’t had a cuppa all morning.’ Josh complies and Michael lifts out a chair so it doesn’t scrape on the floor and sits down next to me. ‘How was your flight?’ He glances from Mum to me.
‘Fine, fine,’ Mum replies.
‘Long,’ I interject. ‘And the food was crap.’
‘Oh dear,’ Michael empathises. ‘I thought we’d have a barbie for lunch. If you’re still awake by then.’
‘Want another tea?’ Josh begrudgingly asks Mum and me.
My mum glances into her mug. ‘Only if it’s not too much trouble.’
