by Dee White
Matt
Dad and I talk a lot about what happened – about Mum mostly – and how there are some things you just can’t control.
Dad reckons there have been some positives in all the suffering. He reminds me of Troy when he says things like that. Troy always knew how to make the best of a bad situation, could always make a joke of something – even himself.
“Like what?” I ask. “What are the positives?”
We’re washing the dishes in our new kitchen – where everything is new. “At least we now have a frying pan that works,” says Dave.
“And getting you new suits was a good thing.”
Dad pretends to be offended. “Steady on,” he says. “They were the height of fashion in their day.”
“When was that, the 1800s?”
Dad laughs. “Don’t you be cheeky.”
He grabs a tea towel and chases me around the kitchen of our new flat.
I stay just out of reach.
Suddenly, I stop, thinking of the times Troy and I did this in our old kitchen.
Dad put his arms around me. “You couldn’t have stopped her, Matt. Nobody could have.”
“I’m sorry about your book, Dad – the one I burned.”
He cuffs me gently. “I think it had probably had its day, like the suits, don’t you?”
Things between Dad and me are back to what they were – only different. None of us could have stayed the same after everything that happened.
Dear Leonardo,
We were both right.
People can come from such different places and still be right.
People don’t have to be the same – they don’t even have to know each other to think the same.
And sometimes you come from people who are not like you at all. And sometimes you’re lucky enough to meet someone in your life who really knows you and is your friend in spite of who you are.
I still believe that truth is more important than anything. But you have to know how to handle it.
And when stuff happens, you can’t begin to dissect it and put your life back together until you find out the whole truth of it.
This is it from me, Leo.
I turned sixteen today and Dad bought me paints and a brand-new easel. No surprise letters – no word from Mum. Just Dad and me, going to the gallery for my birthday to look at a “People in Oils” exhibition. Can’t wait! But you know what, Leo, whenever I look at a portrait of a lady, I’ll still be comparing it to a da Vinci.
Dad’s calling. It’s time to switch off, pull the plug – time to put away my laptop. Time to go.
This is all I have left to say.
Bye, Leo and thanks for everything.
Matt
A
CKNOWLEDGEMENTS
The Victorian Writers’ Centre for showing their faith in the earliest drafts of this book by awarding me a mentorship.
Sherryl Clark, teacher, mentor and friend who taught me how to “raise the stakes”, as well as many other things about writing.
My wonderful family and friends who have always believed in me and all my fellow writers who thought that Letters to Leonardo would make it.
Margaret Hamilton for her ongoing encouragement and support, and the dedicated team at Walker Books Australia for everything they have taught me. In particular, my editor, Sue Whiting, for her belief in Letters to Leonardo, her endless tact and patience, attention to detail and refusal to let me get away with anything that wasn’t as good as it should be.
Published in 2009
by Walker Books Australia Pty Ltd
Locked Bag 22, Newtown
NSW 2042 Australia
www.walkerbooks.com.au
This ebook edition published in 2014
The moral rights of the author and illustrator have been asserted.
Text © 2009 Dee White
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means – electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise – without the prior written permission of the publisher.
National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication entry:
White, Dee, author.
Letters to Leonardo / Dee White.
For young adults.
Subjects: Absentee mothers – Fiction.
Mothers and sons – Fiction.
A823.4
ISBN: 978-1-921977-21-3 (ePub)
ISBN: 978-1-921977-20-6 (e-PDF)
ISBN: 978-1-925081-96-1 (.PRC)
Cover image (abstract painting) © iStockphoto/beusbeus
Cover image (boy) © iStockphoto/izusek
For my boys Mike, Sam and Nicholas