I shrugged. ‘My mind is clear and peaceful,’ I said. Even though Miss Williams said it was something to think quietly to ourselves, it felt good to say it out loud; a chant to soothe my brain.
‘Tell me what you meant by that,’ Dad said.
‘Nothing,’ I said. ‘I didn’t mean anything.’
Dad turned away. ‘I’ve only ever tried to do the best for you lot,’ he said. ‘Even Cassie. Even if it didn’t always seem that way.’ He went to the bench and poured another glass of port. Took the glass and the bottle to the verandah.
In the morning Wally and I wheeled our bikes out from under the house. Dad had written me a note to give to Miss Williams. I ripped it up without reading it, emptied the shreds into my backpack to hide the evidence. I didn’t want her knowing anything.
Halfway across the yard I stopped. I looked over to the yellow house. I wondered what Helena was doing in there. I couldn’t see any sign of her. Her car was there but the curtains were drawn. I wondered what she was going to do with all of Tilly’s stuff, all her nice things. For a second I thought maybe she would give it all to me, the smelly pens and the sticky lip glosses. She’d probably just throw it out otherwise, or leave it in her room untouched, thinking that Tilly would come back for it.
I looked out into the paddock and felt a wave washing over my guts that came out of nowhere. I could feel the drawers in my brain bursting open, like they were made of cardboard, soggy, the goo in my mind leaking through. I leaned over in the grass, opened my mouth. Thin, wheaty spew slimed up my throat, dribbled from my lips. My bike fell to the ground, the handle grazing my leg. I crouched in the dirt, rocks and twig knobs burred into my palms. I could feel tears prickle in my eyes, hot and blobby. They dropped down into the dirt, scorched my knees. I wanted to tell Helena about Ian. About Christmas night in the paddock, and how Ian and Cassie had Tilly’s uniform, and now Tilly was gone and I didn’t know what to do about any of it. But I could never do that to Cassie, no matter how much I hated him.
‘What’s wrong with you?’ Wally said.
I looked up. Wally had stopped on the grass, half off his bike. His eyes were big as coins, like he was scared of me. He didn’t even wait for me to answer. Didn’t wait to see if I was okay. He flung his leg over his bike, pedalled down the driveway. Left me there alone in the dirt, sick on my chin.
When we got home from school Mum was in front of the TV, snuggled in a blanket. Dad’s truck was gone, but his ladder was leaning against the house so I knew he wasn’t at work. Cassie’s car was in the yard. I checked the calendar. He always wrote his shifts on the calendar next to the fridge and the square for that day was blank.
‘Where’s Cassie?’ I said to Mum. ‘Where’s Dad?’
Mum wriggled under her blanket. ‘Just be quiet for one bloody minute,’ she said.
I walked outside to the front gate, stood on the road. A few birds were burrowed in the scrub, pecking their hooked beaks in the dirt. They all had green feathers on their crests, bright like gemstones. They scattered as I walked towards them, before settling back down where they thought I couldn’t hurt them. I threw a rock at them, just to prove I could.
I climbed up on a fence post and watched the highway for a while, waiting for Dad’s truck to turn into the street. The road was like a liquorice strap, splitting the scrub and the hills in two. On the other side, plum trees sprung from the pale green mounds. Sometimes, in fire season, the mountains were hazy, the smoke from the grass fires curling into the sky in plumes, as if from little campsites on the hills. The sunset sparkled and everything was orange, everything was magic. But not that day. The sky was blue but dull, clouds a colourless blur. Nothing sparkled through the leaves. Nothing was orange.
When dinnertime came around, Mum hadn’t moved and Dad and Cassie still weren’t home. ‘Mum?’ I said, poking her on the shoulder, knobbly with bone. She didn’t answer so I shook her shoulder hard.
‘What are you doing?’ she said, opening her eyes. ‘For God’s sake.’
‘Where’s Dad? And Cassie?’
Mum looked over at me and her eyes were watery with sleep. She looked confused, like she’d woken up somewhere different from where she’d fallen asleep.
‘Mum,’ I said again.
‘Are they back?’ asked Mum.
‘Back from where?’
She looked around the lounge room, dazed. ‘That stupid girl,’ Mum said. ‘That stupid, stupid girl.’
My hand fell from Mum’s shoulder. There was no talking to her when she was like this. I wondered if she was still asleep, tried to see if her eyes were foggy with dreams. But then she heaved herself off the couch, put on her slippers.
‘Better get the tea on,’ she said.
When she got to the kitchen she stopped in front of the sink, like she’d forgotten what she was doing. She shuffled into the hallway. I heard the door of her bedroom click open. When I walked past her room she was sitting on the edge of her bed, one slipper on, one slipper off. Her shadow stretched up the wall.
Cassie and Dad arrived home an hour later. When I heard the car come up the driveway I went to the kitchen window and watched it shudder to a stop on the grass. The sun had gone but it wasn’t dark yet, and the edge of the sky was a creamy blue that darkened to navy, splashed with stars. They got out of the car and walked up to the house. Cassie slipped into his room without a word and Dad came into the kitchen. He washed his hands in the sink, rubbed his wet hands on his neck.
‘Where’ve you been?’ I asked.
‘Where’s your mother?’ Dad said, wiping his hands on a tea towel.
‘In bed.’
Dad headed into the hallway. I followed him but he closed the door on me. I tried to listen through the crack but their voices were muffled After a while Dad came out and knocked straight past me into the kitchen. I looked into the room and Mum was still sitting on the bed. There was a wad of bloodied toilet paper on the bed beside her. Her head was tilted back, and another wad of toilet paper was pressed to her nose. I closed the door and went into the kitchen.
Dad poured a glass of wine from the cask in the fridge and sat at the table.
‘Is Cassie alright?’ I said. ‘Where’ve you been?’
Dad took a big gulp of his wine. When he didn’t answer I said, ‘I’ll ask Cassie then, if everyone’s just going to ignore me.’
Dad stood up, strode towards me and grabbed me by the wrist. ‘Just bloody leave it, would you? Do you always have to stick your nose into other people’s business?’ He lifted his arm and slapped the back of his hand hard against my cheek.
I started to cry before I could stop myself. Dad had never hit me before, not since I was little and would get smacks on the bum. He went and sat back down, breathing deeply through his nose. He took another sip of wine and sunk back into his chair, as though yelling like that had sucked all the air from him and he couldn’t even sit up straight. I crossed the kitchen and sat next to Wally on the couch, pushed my knuckles into my eyes until they started to hurt.
I waited until Dad had finished his wine, which didn’t take long, and when he was in the bath I knocked on Cassie’s door. He didn’t answer, so I pushed it open. He was lying on his mattress, staring at the ceiling with his headphones on. I waited for him to notice me but he didn’t. He’d kicked off his shoes and I could see his toes flexing beneath his white socks. I walked over to him and then poked his arm with my toe. He took the headphones off and sat up in bed.
‘Dad said to leave you alone,’ I said. ‘He said I’m nosy. That was him yelling before.’