I ignored Wally’s question, tried to send a message to his brain to stop making things difficult, to stop trying to ruin things before they’d even started.
‘What school are you going to go to?’ I asked Tilly. ‘We go to the state school. There’s also the school in the hills, but Dad says that’s not a real school because it’s run by hippie-dippies and you don’t have to do maths if you don’t want to.’
‘It’s not like I’d be in your class,’ Tilly said, pressing the tip of her ponytail against her lips. ‘I’m older than you guys.’
‘Yeah, I know,’ I said.
‘And anyway,’ Tilly said, ‘I’m going to the private school. I already have my uniforms.’
Tilly’s shorts were bunched and the skin at the tops of her legs was chicken white. When she saw me looking she tugged the hem of her shorts towards her knees. ‘Why isn’t your other brother here?’ she said. ‘My mum said there’s three of you.’
‘Mum didn’t make Cassie come,’ I said. ‘She lets him do what he wants. He’s her favourite—even Dad says so.’
‘Cassie’s a girl’s name,’ Tilly said.
‘It’s short for Cassius,’ Wally told her, ‘and if he heard you say it was a girl’s name you’d be dead meat. One time he beat someone up so bad they were in hospital for a week. They were in a coma and everything.’
I glared at Wally. It wasn’t even a lie anyone would believe. ‘He did not,’ I said. ‘Cassie’s not like that.’
I tried to think of something else to say. I knew we had one chance to make a good impression and I didn’t want to waste it. But the silence felt as deep as the dam, impossible to swim out of. I was annoyed with myself for not practising with the girls at school. I should’ve been prepared.
‘Well, this is fun,’ Tilly said, rolling her eyes, and I knew she didn’t mean it.
Wally smirked at me, turned back to Tilly. ‘Guess what?’
‘What?’ Tilly asked.
‘I’ve seen your dad’s ghost before.’
‘Have not,’ Tilly said.
‘Have too,’ Wally said. ‘Right in this spot.’
‘He didn’t die here,’ Tilly said. ‘Why would his ghost be here if he didn’t die here? That’s not how it works.’
‘I thought you don’t believe in ghosts.’
‘I don’t.’
‘Is that why you have no pictures of him?’ Wally asked. ‘Because he’s dead?’
Tilly looked at the ground, picked up the twig that had fallen into her lap and stabbed it into the grass.
‘Are you crying?’ said Wally.
‘No,’ Tilly said.
‘She’s crying,’ Wally said to me, in a voice like everyone in the world was more stupid than he is, even me.
There was a drop of water on Tilly’s nose, which she rubbed away with the back of her hand. ‘Stop staring at me,’ she said, looking up. ‘You keep staring at me. It’s really weird.’
‘I wasn’t,’ I said, even though I’d started counting the freckles on her face, which were different sizes and made me think of the seed spots on multigrain bread. I hadn’t finished yet, so I kept counting and a second later she got up on her knees.
‘I can’t believe I’m trapped in this dump,’ she said, brushing dirt off her bum. She stormed towards the yellow house. I stared hard at Wally.
‘I bet she’s crying,’ Wally said.
‘Why’d you have to say all that stuff?’ I said. My voice sounded high and whiny. I knew Wally hated when I spoke like that but I couldn’t help it. ‘She’s not going to like us now.’
‘She’s wussy,’ Wally said. ‘I don’t care if she doesn’t like us.’
‘You didn’t have to lie, though,’ I said. ‘You’ve never seen any ghost and now they’re both going to hate us for nothing.’
‘She’s dumb,’ said Wally. ‘She’s just a dumb wussy girl.’
A minute later Mum came outside with the jam drops. ‘What did you bloody say to her?’ she said, grabbing my arm and yanking me up.
‘Nothing,’ I said.
‘She’s just a wuss,’ Wally said. ‘She started crying over nothing.’
Back home, I followed Wally to our room.
‘Stop following me,’ he said.
‘This is my room too.’ I pulled off my dress and changed back into play clothes. There were red marks around my arms where the sleeves had dug in, but I felt like I could breathe again. Wally stripped down and sat on the carpet, pulled out a box from under his bed. We each had one—a cardboard box where we kept our special things.
He took a folded photo he’d wedged into the side of his undies. I caught a glimpse as he held it to his face. It was of Helena and Tilly, their heads pressed together, orange hair bright in the sun as though their heads had caught fire. Wally lifted some junk from the box and slipped the photo underneath.
‘Don’t touch,’ he said, shoving the box back under the bed.
At dinnertime Mum asked us again what we’d said to make Tilly so upset. Wally told her she just got sooky over nothing.
‘Just try and be civilised, would you,’ Mum said. ‘It’ll be nice for us all to know Dermott’s family. Have someone to spend Easter and Christmas with. Maybe we can all go to the Chinese one night for tea.’
‘We’ve never gone there before,’ Wally said. ‘Only for takeaway.’
‘Well, now we can,’ Mum said. ‘That’s what you do with family. Go on special outings together. Isn’t that right, Colin?’
Dad grunted, kept his eyes on the screen.
Wally put his head down on the table, cheek pressed into the laminate. ‘I don’t want them here,’ he said, grinding his fork into the table. ‘They’ll ruin everything.’
Mum looked towards the TV, the veins in her throat like straws. ‘Just make a bloody effort, alright?’
I felt my heart glow. I looked at Mum, and for a moment I’d never been more glad that she was my mother. I hoped Wally listened to her more than he listened to me.
He must have, because the next morning Wally was on the verandah with the binoculars.
‘What are you doing?’ I asked.
‘Nothing,’ Wally said.
‘Do you want to come for a swim?’
‘Nah.’ He lowered the binoculars. ‘Let’s go next door.’
‘What for?’
‘Mum said she’ll give us a dollar if we’re nice to her today.’
‘To who?’
‘To her,’ Wally said. ‘The girl. Whatever her name is.’
When we got to the yellow house Tilly was sitting under the shrimpy crepe myrtle in the middle of the yard, glittery headphones in her ears. There was a hot wind and dried blossoms had come loose from the branches and settled in her hair. She scratched her foot and ignored us until Wally said, ‘Are you coming swimming or not?’
Tilly took her headphones off. ‘What?’ she asked.
‘We’re going swimming.’
Tilly squinted at us. ‘Where?’
‘There’s a dam out there,’ Wally said, pointing into the paddock.
Tilly paused. ‘How far?’
‘I dunno,’ Wally said.
‘Maybe,’ she said, untangling her headphones from her hair and putting the Discman down. ‘I’ll go ask Mum.’
She went inside. I was sure Wally had blown it yesterday, and was relieved Tilly hadn’t just told us to rack off. She must have liked me a little bit at least.
After a minute Tilly stuck her head out of a window. ‘I’ll just put on my togs,’ she said. ‘Don’t leave without me.’
Wally poked the Discman with his toe. It was metallic blue and covered with fuzzy stickers. It looked expensive.
‘Don’t break it,’ I said.
The flyscreen opened. Helena came outside. She was wearing a green dressing-gown that made her look like a mermaid. I’d never seen a colour so beautiful before. I’d never seen a person so beautiful before, even though she wasn’t smiling. She pulled the tie tight around her waist and walked towards us.