‘The what?’
‘The mini golf joint. I worked the kiosk on Saturdays.’
‘You’re—’
‘In trouble? A tease?’
‘Yes. To both.’
‘Too bad, ‘cos it’s the next right and we’re at the old’s.’
My parents live in a weatherboard Queenslander painted a neutral cream. Steps lead up to the front door and a veranda that wraps around one side. The street is one of the older ones in the suburb; the antiquated homes experiencing a resurgence in popularity of late. As a result, my parents have suddenly found themselves livingen vogueamongst the DINK’s: double incomer’s, no kids. Lawns seemingly trimmed by nail-scissors and pristine driveways housing European SUV’s. Backyards with ample boy’s toys storage—boats and the like—and elegant pools housing water features.Not that the ‘rents are short of a bob or two themselves. Geoff has a pretty senior job in the local quarry, and Mum has always stayed at home. She keeps pretty busy for a woman who doesn’t work. She’s active in the Country Woman’s Association and volunteering in the local Salvation Army op-shop. Then there’s flower arranging at our local church, and her endless interfering in my life. Though it looks like she’s got a vacancy in her schedule these days.
The rain has stopped as I trudge up the driveway, past my darling little butter-box—my bright red tiny Hyundai.
‘Suppose I’d better sell that.’ I won’t be needing a car in Queensland anytime soon.
My feet are heavy on the staircase, which is, I suppose, why Mum’s wiry frame appears at the door before I’ve even pulled open the ornate flyscreen.
‘Katherine! Oh, thank goodness you’re home.’
‘Dial down the melodrama, Mum.’
‘Yes,’ she says, narrowing her eyes over my shoulder to where Kai stands. ‘Well, come in. Don’t stand out there on ceremony.’
The hallway is bright, light bouncing off the pale timber walls in a kaleidoscope of colours, the emerging sun reflected through a 1920’s stained-glass window. Threading my hand through his, I lead Kai down the hall into the kitchen, following Mum’s lead. Sometimes I wonder why she ever decorated the other rooms, because we rarely use any beyond the kitchen and its adjoining deck.
‘Now,’ she says, wiping her hands on a tea-towel, even though they’re evidently clean and dry. ‘Is someone going to tell me what this is all about?’
‘Mrs. Saunders. I take responsibility for any misunderstandings yesterday. As I said on the telephone, Kate was sleeping. After her recent journey, I thought it best to leave her to continue to do so.’
‘Yes, well,’ she replies, patting her hair nervously. ‘I suppose I can stop worrying now that she’s here, and she can tell me herself.’
‘Yes, fine,’ I snipe, completing an antagonistic twirl, arms held wide. ‘See? Not kidnapped by the bad man.’
‘I see your flu has gone.’
‘What? Oh, yeah.’ I lower my arms, a slight flare of guilt warming my stomach. I’d told her I had flu to make sure she’d leave me alone.To wallow in abject Kai-less misery.‘I’m feeling heaps better now.’
‘So I see.’
Silence descends, the atmosphere in the kitchen awkward as my mother stares between the two of us, as though expecting one of us to crack and confess. Though to what, I’m not sure.
‘Tea,’ she says quite suddenly, turning to the kettle. ‘Erm?’
‘Kai,’ I supply. ‘His name is Kai.’ But then he’s told her that already.
‘Yes, so he said.’
Like I said.
Her eyes flick over him again before she turns back to the sink. ‘Sit down, the pair of you. Help yourself to slice.’
The kitchen table is set, and it’s clear she must be expecting either news or an announcement of some sort as she has the fine china out. Geoff has always said this particular china, handed down from his mother, only comes out forhatches, matches or dispatches:A birth, death or marriage announcement. I swallow uncomfortably recalling Shane and I sat at this very table, our hands clasped as we were congratulated, sipping from these china cups. Geoff even pulled out champagne.
‘Get the serviettes, Katherine, please.’ I snap out of my reverie. This announcement so isn’t going to go the same. ‘The peach embroidered ones,’ she repeats in an exasperated tone.
I do as I’m bid, opening the appropriate drawer and retrieving the desired napkins.
