‘Sounds like you’ve got something to hide,’ said Rashid. ‘A boyfriend?’
‘No!’ I said. ‘No boyfriend.’
‘Then why all the secrecy?’ he said. ‘You act guilty by covering up. Where’ve you been today, exactly? How can we trust you when you’re caught out on lies like this?’
That was nice, coming from him. He’d disappeared for whole days and nights with no explanation.
‘What about Soraya?’ asked Mama. ‘You’re supposed to look after her, not dump her with strangers!’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Bassima’s mother is not a stranger. You met her at the shop yesterday. And she offered. Soraya was happy to go, she loves their dog.’
As if she thought it was somehow her fault, Soraya slunk into our bedroom and pressed the door shut.
‘What do you think Baba would say about this?’ asked Rashid. ‘I don’t think he’d be impressed.’
How was this any of Rashid’s business? I wished he’d just butt out. But whenever Baba was away, he felt entitled to step up, as the man of the house.
‘Baba would be fine,’ I said. ‘He likes me to do well at school.’ I wanted to add, at least he can be proud of one of his kids, but I didn’t. ‘Why don’t you ring him and ask? He promised I could go to the next school science thing, so I did!’
Rashid frowned. ‘But he didn’t know about the boys, did he? Who are they? Have you got their numbers in your phone?’
‘No!’ I said. ‘Course not.’
‘Prove it. Get your phone. Now.’
I looked at Mama. ‘This is ridiculous. I haven’t done anything.’
‘Do what your brother said, get your phone.’
‘Fine!’ I said, and stomped over to my bag. ‘Here!’ I flung the phone at Rashid. ‘Find me one boy’s number on there, apart from family.’
I knew there weren’t any. He scrolled through the contacts and sniffed.
‘Think you’re so smart, don’t you? Liars like you would disguise them as girls’ names anyway. Proves nothing.’
He tossed the phone at my feet. It buzzed.
‘You’ve broken it!’ I shouted, picking it up. But he hadn’t. It was a text from Alesha.
Surgery over. B doing well.
‘Bassima is okay,’ I said.
‘Good for her,’ said Rashid. ‘At least she’s not a liar.’ ‘Rashid! That’s enough,’ said Mama.
‘I didn’t lie,’ I said, feeling the urge to smack his face. ‘I just didn’t tell you. Do you tell me everything? Course not. Why don’t you ring my chemistry teacher to check? Here—I’ll call her now.’
I pushed in the numbers. Zero plus the atomic numbers for zinc, tin, mendelevium and lead.
‘You’re making it up,’ said Rashid. ‘How can you remember your teacher’s mobile like that?’
‘Cause my brain works.’
Mama waved her arm. ‘Don’t call. I don’t want to talk to her.’
‘She’ll only tell you the truth,’ I said, sensing the argument shift in my favour. ‘Wouldn’t you rather know?’
‘Please,’ said Mama. ‘Don’t call her. I believe you.’
I cancelled the call. Rashid scowled.
‘But next time, tell me what’s happening beforehand,’ said Mama. ‘I need to know where you are. And Soraya. You know that’s the right thing to do, don’t you? And I’ve already agreed to you going on the camp, I think I deserve to be told the truth.’
She was right. I should’ve told her. Next time, I would. I nodded. ‘Okay, Mama, I understand. I will.’ I felt bad. She was on my side, really.
And when I went into my bedroom later, Soraya had put every one of her stuffed toys onto my bed. Like she wanted to apologise for getting me into trouble. Even though none of it was her fault. But she didn’t understand that, poor thing.
XV
Ionisation energy
the amount of energy required to remove the most loosely held electron from an isolated gaseous atom
By Friday, Mama had calmed down. Cousin Farzana was going to the shop with Auntie, so Mama took Soraya in to play with her. I asked Mama very carefully if I could visit Bassima in hospital. She didn’t actually say no, only that all the chores had to be done. So I took that as a yes.
The hospital was a big cream-coloured building with high ceilings and peeling paint. On ward six, I found Bassima reclining in a bed near the window, reading Cosmo magazine.
‘Hi, B!’ I said, creeping up to her. ‘You allowed to read that?’
She looked up, sprung. ‘Az! You scared me! Ha; I bought it off the trolley. Very educational.’
I went to hug her, but couldn’t reach. From somewhere beneath her blanket, a tube of yellow ooze flowed to a bottle under the bed. On a tall metal stand behind her, a bag of clear fluid dripped into a cannula taped to the back of her hand.
‘Careful!’ she said. ‘Don’t disconnect the plumbing.’
‘Sorry. How are you?’
‘Pretty bad,’ she said. ‘Super messy in there. Lots of antibiotics.’
She looked pale in the pink-and-white-checked hospital gown, and a drab green scarf.
‘And I’ve got a lovely wound that guarantees a lifetime of burqinis.’
I smiled. She hated swimming anyway.
‘Better than dying of an exploding appendix,’ I said.
Bassima rolled her eyes. ‘Only just.’ She tried to sit up, wincing.
‘Here, let me prop you up.’ I stacked the pillows. ‘Try that.’
She leaned back. ‘Thanks.’
A trolley clanked in, pushed by a large woman in a tight blue uniform. She picked up the chart from the end of Bassima’s bed. And put it back again, shaking her head.
‘No food allowed,’ said Bassima. ‘Even though the food here is gross, I miss eating. Not the same on a drip. Cheating,’ she added. ‘Cheating the eating.’
I felt sorry for her. An elderly woman in the bed opposite took the cover off her plate. Fish in white sauce with potatoes and peas. She looked disappointed.
‘Smells so strong when you can’t eat!’ said Bassima. ‘Torture.’
‘Mrs K says hi, and hopes you’re getting better,’ I said. ‘And also says that you’ll be missed at the camp.’
‘So bad I can’t go. But there’s nothing I can do about it.’
It was a real shame she couldn’t come. I had so been looking forward to us being away together, especially after all the hassle of my getting permission to go at all. Poor B. I could imagine how disappointed she felt.
‘Usually it’s me that can’t go to things,’ I said. ‘You’re changing the trend here.’
Bassima gave a small laugh, holding her hand over her stomach.
‘Yeah. It sucks. It would’ve been cool. You’ll have to be extra smart without me on the team.’
‘I’ll try. We’ll still miss you, but.’
Bassima sighed. ‘Reckon Tom will miss me too?’
I’d wondered if she was going to mention him. Now I had no excuse not to ask her.
‘You know that gastro he had? I know it wasn’t your appendicitis. But why were you so worried? Did you kiss him or something?’
Bassima’s eyes widened. ‘No! I told you, we shared a spoon. For gelato.’
Then she paused for a moment. ‘But he did hold my hand on the train home. My bad?’
‘A little,’ I said. I felt a sudden relief. Like she wasn’t quite as crazy as I imagined she might be. And that maybe it was just as well she wasn’t coming to the camp. Three days with Tom around? That could’ve been trouble.
‘Anyway, I can’t blame him for this,’ said Bassima. ‘Besides it’s way too cringey for me to see anyone on the team after that gross vomit scene. Not for at least a century. Anyone except you, of course. They’ll all be glad I’m not around, randomly groaning and doing a volcano.’ I shrugged. ‘Yes and no. Can’t be helped. Everyone understands.’
‘But that mess all over the floor? And having to be carried out by the guys? Such a dr
ama queen. And they probably thought I was heavy. Think I’ll go live in a cave when they let me out of here.’
From down the corridor came the click of brisk heels. Then they got louder, and closer, and came into our ward.
‘Bassima!’ It was Alesha, wearing a tight caramel jacket over dark trousers.
‘Hey,’ said Bassima, quickly shoving her magazine under the blanket.
Alesha kissed the top of her head. ‘Poor baby,’ she said. ‘What a waste of school holidays!’
Bassima nodded. ‘Reckon. And I miss out on chemistry camp. Complete bummer.’
Alesha held her non-cannulated hand. ‘It sucks,’ she said. ‘But lucky it didn’t happen while you were away. It could have been worse.’
Bassima grimaced. ‘I don’t know. It was pretty embarrassing as it was. Right, Az?’ I pulled a face.
Alesha tutted. ‘You’ll get over it, I promise. Much worse things happen.’ A sad look passed over her face.
‘Everything okay?’ asked Bassima.
‘Yeah. Work’s a bit stressful. I just came from a difficult meeting. A lady has an ex-husband who wants to take their kids “on holiday” to see his family in Egypt without her.’
‘What’s so bad about that?’
‘She’s worried that it’ll be a one-way holiday. That once they’re overseas they might not return to Australia. Ever. It does happen sometimes, and it’s very difficult to get children back from another country. But in the meantime she can’t stop them seeing their dad, even if she fears he could take them on a plane without telling her first.’
Bassima sighed and settled back into her pillows. ‘That’s hard. But what can you do?’
‘A few things,’ said Alesha. ‘Like get the children’s names on a list at the airport. To stop them from being allowed to leave the country without the mother knowing about it.’
‘Cool,’ said Bassima. ‘My sister stops kids being kidnapped.’
Alesha laughed. ‘What kind of drugs are you on, little sister? They sound pretty good.’
‘Yeah,’ said Bassima. ‘Actually, I’m really tired.’
She looked it. All this talk was exhausting her. I squeezed her shoulder.
‘Of course you are,’ said Alesha, standing up. ‘Anything you want me to bring in?’
‘Nah,’ said Bassima, closing her eyes. ‘All good.’
XVI
Chemiluminescence
the emission of light, caused by a chemical reaction
After a restless night worrying that I would sleep through my alarm, the morning of the camp I was awake at six-thirty, well before light chinked through the gap in the curtains. Condensation frosted the window. I ran my finger across the cold glass, and wrote ‘Miracle!’ Drips rolled off the letters and puddled on the sill.
Soraya sighed and rolled over, muttering. Her fluffy bunny fell off the bed. I tucked it back under her arm. I’d hardly slept away from her since she was born. But I wasn’t going to miss her. Not for two nights.
I’d already laid out my clothes for the day. Jeans, a black jumper, my blue hoodie. My school shoes and lab gear were already packed. I carried my canvas bag out to the living room, gently pulling the bedroom door shut. Up the hall, the shower was running. Rashid’s bedroom door was open.
I put on the kettle and cracked an egg. It swam in the bowl, the white moving like mercury. Hg. Atomic number 80. I smiled. I was really going to camp. In just two and a half hours.
Mama came down the hall, her wet hair wrapped up in a towel. ‘Morning, Azra.’
‘Morning. Want an egg?’
‘Sure,’ said Mama. ‘When are you leaving?’
‘Nine. Mrs Kaminski and Vanessa are picking me up.’
She nodded, with a resigned look on her face. ‘I’ll wait till after you leave,’ she said. ‘It’ll take me longer to get ready with Soraya as well.’
I refused to ask how she would manage. Who would cook? Wash up? Clean? For three days, it wasn’t going to be me.
‘Seen Rashid this morning?’ she asked.
‘Wasn’t he in the shower?’
Mama shook her head. ‘No, that was me.’ She poured boiling water into the teapot. ‘I don’t think he came home at all last night.’
I raised my eyebrows. ‘Really?’
Something was up, I didn’t know what. He’d been extra prickly over the past few weeks.
‘Maybe he’s got a girlfriend,’ I joked, then instantly regretted it.
‘Do you know something that I should?’
‘No!’ I said. ‘Only joking. I’ve never seen him with a girl. He’s probably just hanging out with Omar. Or Cameron from work.’
Mama’s shoulders relaxed. ‘I wish Baba would get home soon. Rashid’s a mystery. He needs his father to keep him in line.’
‘Mmmm,’ I said, frying the eggs in a slick of ghee. Baba was not much good at keeping anyone in line. Uncle was much better at it.
Just thinking about the two of them in Pakistan, I felt relief that Uncle was so far away. It was like an electromagnet that tugged at us all had just been switched off. Right now we could move how and when we liked. And until he came home, I could pretend it might stay like this forever.
By the time we arrived at the university, Vanessa had chewed off whatever was still available from her fingernails. I had nerves too, but they stayed hidden, fluttering in my stomach like baby finches.
We parked in a large car park lined with shady trees, beneath a tall glass building.
‘Here we are,’ said Mrs Kaminski.
I lifted my bag from the boot. Vanessa dragged out a wheelie bag with a big Hello Kitty face. Mrs Kaminski hoisted up an old backpack and swung it over her shoulder.
‘This way!’ she said, leading us up the steps.
From the top, I could see neat rectangles of lawn. Two bearded young men sat in a patch of sunshine, waving their hands and talking. I felt a rush of possibility. To be in a place where other people might be interested in the Mandelbrot set, or the health of Schrödinger’s cat. People who might get the joke about the need to ban the dangerous substance di-hydrogen monoxide, without a whole lot of explanation. I sighed.
‘Great, isn’t it?’ said Mrs Kaminski. ‘I studied here.’
Four younger students, looking lost, straggled up behind us.
‘Is this the way to the Harwood Auditorium?’ asked a short boy with a freckled face.
‘Chemistry camp?’ asked Mrs Kaminski.
He nodded.
‘This way, to the underpass, then turn left,’ she said.
The boy charged ahead, the rest of his group following. They looked and nodded, unsmiling. They looked even more nervous than we did.
The Harwood Auditorium was a large concrete building with a huge open hall inside. Stacked black chairs leaned into the room from the edges, and travel bags lay scattered all over the timber floor.
‘Irene!’ called a voice. ‘Irene! Over here!’
Mr Jefferson stood under a pennant hung from the ceiling. The boys stood behind him, Tom and Pratik towering over Bradley.
Mrs Kaminski waved. ‘Hi, Doug; boys. Registered yet?’
Mr Jefferson shook his head. ‘No, I thought we’d do the whole group together. Shall we?’ he said, pointing to the registration desks.
‘Hey, Azra,’ said Tom, coming alongside me, ‘how’s B?’
‘Pretty bummed she can’t be here,’ I said, ‘but she’s okay. Watching trashy TV and bossing her family around.’
Tom laughed. ‘I can imagine. I’m bummed she’s not here too.’
‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘it’s a shame. I’ll miss her.’ Vanessa was okay, but Bassima was way more fun.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Pratik approaching.
‘Mount Lewis Boys and Girls High Schools,’ said Mrs Kaminski. ‘Five team members, as amended.’
A young man with a thick brown beard and tortoiseshell glasses marked off each of our names. ‘Great!’ he said, looking up. ‘Welcome to the New South
Wales Chemistry Camp. I’m Joe. These are your room numbers and directions,’ he added, holding up a stack of envelopes. ‘Your accommodation’s twin share, but you mightn’t be in a room with your team members—it all depends on the numbers. Everyone’s friends here, though, or they will be soon.’
He passed the envelopes to Mrs Kaminski. ‘Back here at midday for kick-off,’ he said.
‘Hi, Azra,’ said Pratik at my elbow.
‘Hey,’ I said, as if I’d only just noticed him, ‘how’s things?’
‘All good,’ he said, with a shy smile.
‘Tom!’ said Mrs Kaminski, handing him an envelope. ‘Bradley. Azra. Pratik. Vanessa. Up that path on the right to International House or Banksia College. Room numbers on your envelope. Get settled, then back here at midday. Off you go!’
My room was on the second floor. There was a small bathroom with a shower and toilet, and two beds with green striped covers. High windows overlooked a huge gum tree covered in yellow blossoms.
I was surprised that Vanessa wasn’t my roommate, but Mrs K said everything had changed when Bassima pulled out. It was especially weird to share a room with a stranger when I’d never stayed away from my family before. Whoever she was, I hoped she’d be nice.
For now, it was peaceful being alone in the room, like being suspended in a cube of calm, with no chores or homework. A magpie warbled over the buzz of traffic. It was only eleven o’clock, but my restless night was catching up with me. I took off my shoes and lay on the bed, watching filtered shadows flicker on the wall.
I jumped as the door banged open. A short red-haired girl bumped a hard travel bag into the end of my bed.
‘Oops! Such a racket; don’t hate me already. I’m Kate.’ She waved and smiled. She had a wide mouth with neat teeth.
I sat up and blinked. ‘Hey, I’m Azra.’
‘Took us two hours from Wahroonga—crazy! Where’re you from?’
‘Mount Lewis.’
‘Never heard of it. What do people do there?’
‘Um. Um. I don’t know.’ I was still startled from waking up. I couldn’t think of anything.
‘Right,’ she said, unimpressed. ‘Anyone else here from your school?’
Promising Azra Page 14