She’s up the tiny kids’ wall in twenty seconds, waving from the top as if she’s the star of a musical and we’re her adoring crowd.
Gemma starts climbing after her sister.Slower, more focused than Billie.She makes it, too.
Then Issy has a go on the taller wall.She’s strong.Quietly capable.She’s starting to resemble someone who doesn’t know her own strength, but who maybe wants to.
Finally, me.
I grab the first handhold and, at once, I realise this was a mistake.My arms wobble as if they’re made of gelatine and haven’t seen a day of honest work.
I’m halfway up when I make the mistake of looking down.
Everything tilts.The wall seems to pull away from me.My chest tightens.My vision blurs.
‘Shit,’ I whisper.‘Shit, shit, shit.’
My breath comes fast.I press my forehead to the wall.Perhaps it will give me answers – or Xanax.
‘YOU GOT THIS, AUNTY J!’Billie shrieks from the floor, a tiny, glitter-covered life coach.
I close my eyes.Inhale.And climb the last two metres on pure adrenaline and ego.
When I hit the top, I want to cry.But I don’t.Because I’m also scared of gravity and sudden public death.
I lower myself down slowly, legs shaking, until I collapse on the mat with a grunt.
Issy stands over me, hand on her hip.‘You okay?’
I nod.‘I think I’m scared of heights.’
She deadpans.‘No shit.’
And then – she smiles.Not a big one.Not teeth and sunshine.But it’s genuine.And I haven’t seen one of those from her in weeks.
We sit on the sidelines while the girls tackle the kiddie wall again, trying to one-up each other.
Issy nudges me.‘Thanks for this.’
I shrug.‘Anytime.’
She looks down at her hands.‘It’s nice … not being home.’
There it is again.The thing she doesn’t say.The shape of a bruise you can’t see but still feel.
‘You know,’ I say carefully, ‘you already do everything on your own.The girls.The house.The damage control.What difference would it make if you left him?’
She flinches.‘A lot.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t have a job.Or savings.Or a clue what I’d even do.’
I lean my head against the wall behind us, watching the girls shriek with laughter.‘Go back to uni.’
Issy scoffs.‘Right.Because that’s so easy.’
‘You were halfway through your nursing degree before Gemma.’
‘I don’t even know if I’d be good at it anymore.’
