As Mum excuses herself to go to the bathroom, Michael puts three mugs of tea on the table and pushes one in my direction. I stir in a teaspoon of sugar and look across at him.
‘My mum said yesterday that one of the animals at the conservation park was ill. A Tasmanian Devil or something?’
‘Yeah, yeah, poor old Henry was looking a bit dodgy there for a while, but he’s going to be fine.’
‘Oh, good. What is a Tasmanian Devil, by the way?’
‘It’s a carnivorous marsupial which is only found in the wild in Tasmania. You know Tasmania, that island that hangs off the bottom of the mainland.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Yep, I know Tasmania, but what the hell does a carnivorous marsupial look like?
Mum re-enters the room before I can ask. Michael eyes me thoughtfully.
‘What did you and Josh get up to last night?’ Mum asks, pulling up a chair next to me and reaching for her tea.
‘Nothing,’ I mumble. ‘He went out with some mates.’
‘Have you got any plans for today?’
‘I don’t know, Mum.’ I can’t help but sound snappy. What does she think I’ve been doing all night while she’s been getting her rocks off? Going from door to door making friends with the neighbours? I get up, huffily. ‘I’m going to have a shower.’
‘What about your tea?’
‘I’ll take it with me.’ I pick up the steaming mug and try to block out the look of hurt on her face as I leave the room.
An hour and a half later I’m in my bedroom, aimlessly flicking through the pages of a magazine, when there’s a knock at the door. I close my eyes resignedly. I can’t be bothered to talk to Mum right now.
‘Come in,’ I call.
I’m surprised when Michael pokes his head around the door, saying, ‘I’m leaving for work in forty minutes. Do you fancy coming with me?’
‘Oh.’ I sit up, surprised.
‘No worries if not, there’ll be plenty of other opportunities.’
‘No, no, I’d . . . Well . . . is my mum coming too?’
‘Nah, she said she’d be happy unpacking and settling in at home.’
‘Okay, then. If you’re sure.’
‘Sure I’m sure.’
He turns to leave, but I call him back.
‘What should I wear?’
‘Anything you like. But it’s going to be hot today so bring a hat and a bottle of sunscreen.’
I climb off the bed and open the wardrobe. My only two skirts stare out at me, daring me to choose them over the jeans I’m already wearing, but I leave them where they are and even go one further by pulling on a hooded grey sweatshirt over my black T-shirt. I’ll regret my full-body cover-up decision if the temperature rises to the 35 degrees predicted on last night’s news, but I’m not yet ready to expose my pale white limbs to the world. I go to close the wardrobe doors and hesitate. Bending down, I drag a small black camera bag out. Do I want this today? Will I use it?
My dad gave me a Nikon F60 as an early birthday/leaving present before I left, making me promise to take lots of photos so he wouldn’t miss me too much. A stab of pain shoots through my heart and I carefully push the bag back into the wardrobe.
Josh is still in bed by the time we set off at seven forty-five. Michael drives a white pick-up truck, three seats wide at the front. He reverses down the gravel driveway and out onto the road. We turn left and drive in the opposite direction to the way Mum and I came in yesterday. Through the window I see white nets hanging loose over a multitude of trees in the neighbouring gardens, making me think of children dressed up as low-budget ghosts for Halloween.
‘Are they fruit trees?’ I ask Michael.
‘Yep. Cherries, nectarines, peaches . . . The nets keep the birds off. We’ve got an apricot tree in the back garden. Help yourself because the fruit always ends up rotting on the ground when no one eats it.’ He tuts. ‘Such a waste.’
