‘That’s nice,’ she says in a restrained voice, crossing her long, lean legs in front of her on the coffee table. I notice she has a tan. Probably spending her days in the garden, sunbathing. She continues, ‘When you two talk about “the joey” I always picture a kangaroo in my head. I didn’t know koala babies were called joeys, too.’
‘Mmm.’
‘How was Ben?’ Michael asks me casually.
‘Fine.’ And then it occurs to me that I could get some answers here and now, if I play it right. ‘I think you’re spot on though. He misses Charlotte.’
‘Who’s Charlotte?’
Good work, Mum.
‘His fiancée. She’s a Pommie. Went back home a couple of months ago,’ Michael explains.
‘Oh, that must be hard,’ Mum says. ‘We know what it’s like conducting a long-distant relationship, don’t we, love?’ She grins at Michael and I want to prod her to make sure she doesn’t change the subject.
‘He’ll be with her soon enough,’ Michael declares.
Bile rises up in my throat. I try to sound indifferent as I ask, ‘When’s he going over there again?’Unless she’s coming here instead.
‘Gosh, it’s only a few weeks away now,’ Michael replies.
So heisleaving. No, please, no.
‘We’ll miss him at work.’
‘His fiancée will be pleased though,’ Mum says, saving me from trying to formulate a response. ‘When are they getting married?’
‘As soon as possible, I think. Poor girl’s had to make all the arrangements herself.’
‘That’s no good,’ Mum says disapprovingly.
‘It’s not like they had a choice,’ Michael goes on. ‘Her visa ran out and she wanted to get married at home so she went back to the UK to wait for him to get his bits and pieces sorted.’
‘Can you guys shut it?’ Josh says rudely. ‘Or go into the other room. I’m trying to watch telly here.’
‘Sorry, son,’ Michael booms, nodding towards the TV screen. ‘What have we missed?’
I spend the next day in bed, and don’t even have to pretend to be ill. When Michael gets home that night, I’m wondering how I can stay off another day. I’m not ready to face Ben again. I plan to skip work just like I skipped school when all that Shannon/Dan stuff hit the pan.
‘I hope you’re feeling better, darl, because we’ve got some understaffing issues at the moment.’
My heart sinks. ‘Really?’
‘Yep. Two of the team have come down with a weird summer flu strain, another is on annual leave and even Ben’s got tomorrow off, so we could do with an extra pair of hands.’
I don’t hear the last ten words because ‘Ben’s got tomorrow off’ is all I need to know.
‘I am feeling a bit better, thank you,’ I say. ‘I’m sure I’ll make it in. I just hope I don’t relapse,’ I add, keeping all bases covered.
I’m on edge the next day at work, half-expecting to see Ben walk around the corner at any given moment. He doesn’t, and as the day progresses, I start to relax. At lunchtime I wander down to visit Roy the roo, and as I approach I see a family standing in the shade near a group of kangaroos. I smile as a girl of about twelve excitedly points to a joey’s foot poking out of the top of its mother’s pouch. And then I watch, horrified, as the little girl’s father creeps in and gives the foot a tug, trying to pull out the joey. The alarmed kangaroo mother jumps up and hops away, and the whole family bursts into laughter. I stare at them, disgusted. I hate people like this. They turn to go and spy me standing there.
‘You shouldn’t do that,’ I say, as the smiles drop from their faces.
‘Er, sorry.’ The father looks suitably ashamed of himself. At least that’s something.
‘Come on, let’s go and see the emus,’ the mum says, and the family scurry away from me in embarrassment.
I sigh and scan the paddock for Roy. As soon as I sit by his side in the shade of a tree my spirits lift. I’m so lucky to have this job. I don’t want to quit. I don’t want to run away this time.
