‘You’re too old to play with toys,’ Wally said.
‘They’re not toys,’ Cassie said. ‘They’re antiques. They’re valuable.’
‘They’re toys,’ Wally said. ‘You’re almost a grown-up and you’re still playing with kid stuff.’
‘Piss off,’ Cassie said. ‘You’re not playing with them. You’ll lose them.’
‘They’re stupid anyway,’ Wally said.
Cassie picked up the pillow from behind his head and chucked it at Wally. Wally picked it up and lobbed it back, darting out the door.
Back in the lounge room, Wally turned on the TV. ‘I didn’t want to play dumb knuckles anyway,’ he said. But I knew he thought they were cool. I knew he was just jealous because he’d never been given anything that special before. I bet his entire box of special things didn’t even equal half the amount of specialness as the knuckles.
We saw Tilly again the next Saturday for the school fete. We got up early and met her by the letterboxes.
‘Just so you know,’ Wally said, knocking up his kickstand, ‘Cub made us invite you. I didn’t want you to come.’
I got on my bike too. Tilly stared at us. ‘I don’t have a bike,’ she said.
Wally blew air out of his mouth. ‘I s’pose we can walk then,’ he said. ‘But it’s pretty far. And don’t whinge to me when your feet start to hurt.’
‘I won’t whinge,’ Tilly said.
The oval was already packed by the time we got there. We wandered through the stalls. There was a jumping castle right in the middle, and an animal pen near the toilet block. Yellow chicks zoomed around the sawdust like wind-up toys.
‘That’s the toilets,’ I said to Tilly, pointing across the oval. ‘And that’s our classroom. And that’s where we have assembly. And that’s where we chain up our bikes.’
We stopped at the fishing game, plastic fish at the bottom of a pond.
‘Those fish look dead,’ Wally said.
Tilly laughed and I wasn’t sure why. She looked at Wally, put the tip of her plait into her mouth.
‘Fish float when they’re dead,’ I said.
The water was glowing from the plastic pool and the tarp covering the stall. I felt like we’d gone into an underwater cave and a shiver went up my back. While Wally lined up to have a go I stuck my hand in the water. It was cold and my fingers tingled, as though my hand was growing very fat.
‘Count how long I can hold my breath for,’ I called over to Wally.
I kneeled down at the side of the pool and stuck my head in the water, puffed up my cheeks and held my breath. I opened my eyes. The fish looked giant so close to my face. Just when my head started to spin I felt something kick me on the back. I sat up and Wally was behind me, knee still pressed to my spine.
‘What’d you do that for?’ I asked.
I hoped Tilly had been watching. I knew no one could hold their breath as long as I could, knew she’d be impressed. But she was outside the stall, arms crossed. Two girls had wandered over. I didn’t recognise them, but most of the time the kids at school all blurred together, all looked the same to me. They were both wearing denim skirts, matching pink shirts with silver glitter on the front in the shape of love hearts, red arrows piercing the centres. Both of their faces were round and blank as eggs. I wiped my face on my shirt, my hair dripping down my face. The girls glanced at each other and started to giggle.
‘What are you laughing at?’ I asked.
‘Nothing,’ they said, at the same time. They stopped laughing, looked over at Tilly. ‘Is she your friend?’ one of them asked.
Tilly seemed surprised they’d spoken to her. She unfolded her arms, unslouched her back.
‘No,’ Tilly said. She rolled her eyes, didn’t look at me. ‘She’s my little cousin.’
Wally grabbed my arm. ‘Why do you always have to be so weird?’ he said, yanking me up, pulling me away from the stall. I looked around for Tilly. She was trailing behind us but wouldn’t look at me. I felt my cheeks burn even though my face was still wet with cold water.
‘How many seconds was it?’ I asked, turning back to Wally.
‘Everyone was staring at you,’ Wally said.
‘Did you even count? I could have broken my record and you didn’t even count.’
We bought snow cones and went to the cake stall. There were dozens of fruitcakes and lamingtons and vanilla slices in clear plastic tied with ribbons. Wally went straight to the toffees wrapped in cellophane and counted out three. Mrs Raymond was standing behind the foldout table with a parent. She was wearing plastic gloves that gave her milky goblin hands. When Mrs Raymond saw us she acted like she didn’t know who we were, didn’t even smile. She served heaps of people before us even when it was our turn.
The girl next to us paid for her sweets and headed back to the oval, leaving her coin purse on the counter. ‘Take that,’ Wally whispered to Tilly.
‘No way,’ she said. ‘That’s stealing.’
‘Don’t be a wuss,’ Wally said. ‘It’s finders keepers.’
‘Why don’t you do it then?’ Tilly asked.
‘I’ll do it,’ I said.
The purse was small and black, and had diamantés stuck to the front in the shape of a butterfly. I looked around to make sure no one was watching me and then covered it with my hand and slipped it into my pocket, like I’d seen Wally do before. I’d never stolen anything. I felt a jolt go down my legs, as though I could suddenly run very fast if I wanted to. I looked over at Tilly but she still wouldn’t meet my eye.
Mrs Raymond hadn’t served us, so Wally stood up on his tippy-toes, reached over the table and dumped his toffees in front of her, clicked his fingers. She finally looked over.
‘And what did you contribute to the stall, Wally?’ Mrs Raymond asked, even though she knew the answer was nothing. Yesterday she’d written everyone’s names on a paper with what they’d brought and beside our names it was blank.
‘Our mum doesn’t like baking,’ I said.
‘Is that so?’ Mrs Raymond glanced behind me. ‘Is she here?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘She has other things to do. She’s a very important lady.’
Mrs Raymond put the toffees in a plastic bag and Wally stuck out the five-dollar note he’d pinched from Dad’s wallet.
She took the note and held it up to her face like she was checking it wasn’t play money before digging around in her bumbag for some change.
‘Old cow,’ Wally said under his breath.
We were across the oval when I realised I’d left my snow cone on the table. I went back by myself. There was no one waiting to be served, and Mrs Raymond was talking to the parent, in whispers like they were best friends. I stared straight at her and she must have felt me looking because she glanced down at me. I hadn’t heard what she was saying but I just knew she was talking about us because, when she saw me looking, her face switched from sneaky to embarrassed, which made me feel embarrassed too, and then she put her goblin hand up near her hair as though to hide her face from me.
‘Here,’ I said, tossing Wally the coin purse. We were up on the hill. He opened the zip and turned the purse inside out.