The January Stars

by Kate Constable

  It turned out that Antonia, drifting around in an embroidered silk kimono, which was only slightly grubby at the cuffs, was not really a morning person. She didn’t have any cereal, or a toaster, and Clancy wasn’t keen on any of the breakfast options that could be cooked in a mug. To be polite, she accepted the offer of coconut porridge, but she didn’t like coconut, and she left most of it for Tash.

  It took a long time to get Pa up. He was grumpy, and clumsy, and inclined to growl when Clancy tried to insert his strong arm into his shirt sleeve first, instead of the limp one, or when Tash approached the wheelchair to the bed at the wrong angle. By the time they had him dressed and sitting in his chair, everyone was feeling short-tempered, and even Tash could see that it might be best not to hang around too long.

  After Clancy had folded up the rugs and quilts, and Tash had replaced the sofa cushions, Antonia gathered them in the back room to give out presents – books, of course.

  For Pa, she had a guide to local birds. ‘No doubt this is already part of your collection, but I thought you might enjoy leafing through it again.’ Pa pressed it to his heart, blew Antonia a kiss, and tucked the book into the back pocket of his wheelchair.

  For Tash, there was a volume of short stories by Margo Lanagan. ‘Because I know you can’t spare much time for reading. These are short, but I believe you’ll find them an intriguing challenge.’

  Last of all, Antonia turned to Clancy. ‘Clarice, my dear, will you allow me to give you the star atlas?’

  ‘Oh!’ Clancy was overwhelmed. ‘But – it must be worth a lot of money …’

  Tash was blunt. ‘We can’t lug that massive book around with us. I mean, it’s very generous, but—’

  ‘How thoughtless of me! I quite understand. Perhaps Clarice would care to return to collect it another time?’

  ‘That would be great,’ said Clancy, relieved.

  ‘But I can’t have you going away empty-handed …’ Antonia looked around for another idea.

  Clancy found it very difficult to ask for things she wanted. She threw a desperate look at her sister, who grimaced, but came to her rescue.

  ‘Antonia, I think Clancy found another book last night she’d like to keep, if that’s okay.’

  ‘It’s only a little one,’ said Clancy hastily, showing the slender book of legends to Antonia.

  ‘By all means, keep it, my dear. But it seems such a meagre gift …’ With a cry, Antonia pounced on the shoebox of photographs and extracted the top handful of pictures, the pictures of Nan when she was young, before she was anyone’s mum or grandmother, when she was just Stella Sanderson.

  ‘For me?’

  Antonia nodded.

  ‘But – don’t you want to keep them? Or Pa?’

  Pa gently pushed her hand away and shook his head. ‘Sp-sp-sp.’ You take them.

  Antonia kissed their cheeks, and bent to give Pa a long hug. ‘You will visit me again, won’t you? If you can?’

  ‘Sp-sp-sp,’ promised Pa, and Clancy and Tash vowed that they would.

  Tash pushed Pa’s chair to the end of the arcade, where the line between the shadows and the bright sunlight was as sharp as a knife. They all turned to wave to Antonia where she stood outside The Magpie Bookshop in the empty arcade, a thin figure in black with her shining white hair.

  ‘Wave, Pa!’

  But when Clancy turned back for a final look, Antonia had disappeared, vanished like a ghost in the sunlight.

  Clancy blinked. But the envelope of photographs was safe in her pocket, to prove that it had all really happened. As they wound their way through the tangle of alleys, she looked around hopefully for a sign from Nan: a star or a comet or even a spaceship.

  But there was only the moon – the daytime moon, a pale wafer, crisp as a biscuit against the blue sky. And it was full.

  Did that mean that the moon she’d seen last night was fake? A projection, or a neon sign? No. She knew the real moon when she saw it. But then how—?

  ‘Clancy! Hurry up!’

  Tash and Pa had already crossed the road, and Tash was beckoning impatiently.

  Clancy dithered, then made her mind up. She yelled, ‘Hang on a minute! Wait there!’ And she turned and ran back down the street and through the labyrinth of narrow alleys back to the arcade.

  But the arcade was gone.

  Clancy ran to the corner of the glass and concrete office building with its funky yellow and orange tiles, scanned the street, and jogged back. She retreated, staring up at the blank-faced tower; but it told her nothing.

  She ran back around the corner and through the maze of alleyways to the main road where Tash and Pa were waiting.

  ‘Sp-sp-sp?’ roared Pa crossly.

  ‘I – I decided I wanted to take the star atlas with me after all,’ stammered Clancy.

  ‘Well, you’ll have to carry it yourself then,’ said Tash. ‘So where is it?’

  ‘I didn’t get it.’ Clancy took a deep breath. ‘The bookshop’s gone.’

  ‘What do you mean, gone?’

  ‘It’s disappeared. The whole arcade’s gone. There’s an office building there instead.’

  A flicker of something crossed Tash’s face, too fast for Clancy to read. Was it disbelief? Or fear?

  ‘You must have got lost,’ said Tash. ‘You’re hopeless.’

  ‘I didn’t! If you don’t believe me, go and look for yourself.’

  ‘We don’t have time. Anyway, you’re being ridiculous. Of course the bookshop’s still there.’ Tash turned and started to march along the footpath, pushing Pa’s chair in front of her.

  ‘Tash!’ wailed Clancy.

  ‘Sp-sp-sp!’ cried Pa. Hurry up!

  Clancy gave up. She had to break into a trot to catch up with them.

  The walk to Docklands was longer than they’d expected.

  ‘Look at those hills!’ groaned Clancy.

  ‘How about you do some work for a change?’ said Tash grimly, and the girls gripped one handle each to drive the wheelchair up the steep slopes, with Pa calling encouragement. ‘Sp-sp!’

  ‘What – number – is it?’ panted Clancy, when they finally reached Bee’s street.

  ‘Eight hundred and something,’ gasped Tash.

  Clancy almost stopped dead. ‘Five hundred to go?’

  ‘Don’t stop, don’t stop!’

  Block after block, hill after hill, they trudged on under the summer sun, sweat rolling down their backs, their legs aching, past towering skyscrapers, hotels and shops, and across railway tracks, as the numbers climbed higher. By the time they reached Bee’s building, a glittering triangular shard of steel and glass, Clancy’s knees were shaking so hard she thought she might fall over.

  Luckily, someone was going out just as they were coming in, and held the door for them. (Later, Clancy decided that this was part of Nan’s magic, too.) As they stepped inside the foyer, the air-conditioned atmosphere enveloped them like cool water.

  ‘Sp-sp-sp!’ Pa admired the shiny marble and glitzy tiles.

  Clancy staggered toward some leather-covered benches. ‘I need to sit down …’

  ‘No! Come on, let’s just get up there.’ Tash seized the handles of Pa’s chair and pushed him toward the lifts.

  Clancy leaned weakly against the wall of the elevator as Tash punched the button for the tenth floor. ‘I need a drink.’

  ‘I need a shower.’

  ‘I need some breakfast.’

  ‘I need new sunglasses.’

  ‘I need Band-Aids for my feet.’

  ‘Sp-sp-sp,’ scoffed Pa.

  ‘It’s all right for you. You’re just sitting there!’ said Tash, and Pa had to agree.

  Clancy was still reeling from the disappearance of the arcade, and she was so hot and exhausted that she wasn’t even feeling nervous about how they were going to explain themselves to Bee. That was Tash’s job, anyway. Clancy trailed along the carpeted corridor after Tash and Pa, hoping vaguely that Bee had Band-Aids, and wondering what kinds of cool d
rinks she might keep in her fridge.

  ‘Here we go.’ Tash knocked at the glossy white door of Bee’s apartment.

  There was no response.

  ‘Sp-sp-sp!’ urged Pa, and Tash hammered at the door again.

  Pa cocked his head. ‘Sp-sp-sp?’

  ‘I can hear her moving around,’ agreed Tash, and she rapped on the door for the third time.

  After what seemed like a very long moment, the door slowly swung open.

  There was a pause while they all stared at one another.

  It had been a few years since Clancy had last seen her youngest aunts. But even so, she knew at once that this wasn’t Bee.

  Pa was the first to break the silence. ‘Sp-sp-sp?’ he demanded. Who the hell are you?

  Tash stepped in front of the wheelchair. ‘We’re looking for Beatrice Sanderson. Is she here?’

  The person retreated, and narrowed the door until only a crack remained open. ‘No. Sorry.’

  ‘When’s she coming back?’ persisted Tash.

  A suspicious eye peered out at them. ‘She doesn’t live here anymore.’

  ‘What?’ exploded Pa.

  ‘But this is the right address? This is her apartment?’

  ‘Was.’ The voice became more distant, the crack narrowed, the face withdrew. ‘She moved.’

  ‘Wait a minute—’ began Tash in agitation; then Pa tugged at her shirt and whispered, ‘Sp-sp-sp …’ He gestured to his lap.

  ‘Oh, God. Sorry,’ said Tash to the single visible eye. ‘Can we use your toilet?’

  There was a pause. ‘I’m kind of in the middle of something.’

  ‘It’ll only take a second,’ said Tash desperately. ‘How can you turn away a disabled old man? Come on, please! You can see we’re not axe murderers or anything.’

  ‘But I’m busy,’ said the voice feebly.

  ‘Sp-sp-sp!’ said Pa urgently.

  And then Clancy, to her own horror, hot, tired, thirsty, hungry and confused beyond bearing, burst into tears.

  The voice behind the door swore, in a resigned tone, and then pulled the door open wider. ‘I guess you’d better come in then,’ said the person gloomily, and Tash, Pa and Clancy trooped inside.

  The inhabitant of Bee’s apartment was a large person of indeterminate age and gender, wearing shorts and a T-shirt (Clancy guessed they’d probably slept in them), with dishevelled hair and glasses. ‘The toilet’s that way.’

  Tash hurried Pa into the bathroom and left Clancy and the stranger staring awkwardly at each other, or rather staring awkwardly in different directions so they didn’t have to talk. Clancy managed to gulp down her sobs and hastily wiped her eyes on the hem of her T-shirt. The flat was so small that they could hear every noise coming from the bathroom. Even if Bee had still lived here, thought Clancy, it was obvious that Pa could never have shared this tiny apartment with her. The place was a mess – empty pizza boxes, chip packets, dirty dishes, stinky clothes. Not like the pleasant muddle of The Magpie Bookshop, but squalor.

  When the noises from the bathroom became embarrassing, the person cleared their throat. ‘Looking for Beatrice?’

  Clancy nodded, then, when more seemed to be required from her, she said, ‘She’s our aunt. Me and Tash’s aunt. Not Pa’s. She’s his daughter. Our dad’s sister. You know.’

  ‘Right.’ The person rocked on their heels.

  Clancy sniffed desperately, and the person said abruptly, ‘Hang on a sec.’

  They marched off into what Clancy guessed was the bedroom, and emerged a few moments later with a rather squashed-looking box of tissues. ‘Here you go.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Clancy in a muffled voice, and blew her nose.

  ‘You want a glass of water or something?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  Eventually a clean (or clean-ish) glass was unearthed from the back of a cupboard, and Clancy gratefully gulped down tepid tap water. ‘Thank you.’

  The person squinted at her. ‘You didn’t know she moved to the country?’

  ‘What? Bee? No.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  The toilet flushed, and after some bumps and scuffling, Tash emerged, pushing Pa’s chair. Tash looked hot and cross, but Pa seemed pleased with himself, and gave Clancy a thumbs-up.

  ‘Thanks for that,’ said Tash. ‘It was a bit of an emergency.’

  ‘That’s okay.’ Abruptly the other person thrust out their hand. ‘I’m Alex.’

  ‘Hi, I’m Tash, and this is Clancy, and Godfrey.’

  Clancy burst out, ‘Alex says Bee moved to the country!’

  ‘Seriously?’ Tash pushed her hair back from her forehead. ‘What did she do that for?’

  Alex shrugged. ‘Dunno. Tree change, I guess.’

  ‘Sp-sp-sp?’

  ‘Bee’s moved to the country,’ said Clancy. ‘Did she move to a farm? Oh, Pa, how would you like to live on a little farm?’

  ‘Sp-sp-sp,’ agreed Pa.

  ‘When did this happen?’ demanded Tash.

  ‘Few months ago.’

  ‘Did you buy this flat from her?’

  ‘Nah. Renting.’ Alex had the grace to look embarrassed. They muttered unconvincingly, ‘I was going to do a bit of a clean-up today.’

  ‘That’s okay, we won’t tell her,’ said Clancy.

  ‘Sp-sp-sp?’ Pa looked at his palm as if he were reading it. ‘Ah!’ He mimed scribbling something. ‘Aha! Sp-sp-sp?’ He looked at Alex expectantly.

  Alex seemed faintly panicked. ‘Um …’

  ‘Sp-sp-sp! Sp-sp!’

  Tash snapped her fingers. ‘Bee’s address! Have you got Bee’s address?’

  ‘Yes!’ cried Pa. ‘So-it-is!’

  Alex ran their hand through their hair, making it stick up in frazzled spikes. ‘Yeah, I’ve got it somewhere. It was on the fridge …’

  They all turned at look at the fridge, which was completely covered in magnets, overdue bills, council notices, and takeaway menus.

  ‘Or I can find it on my phone,’ said Alex.

  The phone was easier to find. It was eagle-eyed Pa who spotted it, half hidden under the couch. While Alex was checking back through their emails to retrieve Bee’s address, Tash filled Clancy’s glass with water for herself and Pa, and Clancy was able to duck into the bathroom, use the toilet, and give her face and hands a good wash.

  Feeling much better, she came out into the tiny living room and looked out over the balcony for the first time. The view was breathtaking, across the sparkling water with its bobbing yachts, and back toward the spires of the city. She stammered something appreciative.

  ‘What? Oh, you get used to it.’ Alex shrugged. ‘I hardly even notice it anymore.’

  ‘It must look amazing at night,’ said Clancy. ‘Can you see lots of stars from here?’

  Alex shook their head. ‘Too much light pollution. It’s pretty. But no stars.’ They looked up from their phone. ‘Got the address. Should I send it to you or what?’

  ‘I don’t have a phone,’ said Tash. ‘Anymore.’

  ‘I’ll write it down then.’

  Which meant another hunt, this time for a pen and then for a scrap of paper. Clancy remembered her envelope of photographs (which was still in her pocket – which meant that Antonia and the bookshop weren’t a dream …) and Alex carefully printed Bee’s new address on the back.

  ‘Quoll Creek,’ they said. ‘Gold rush country.’

  Tash studied the envelope. ‘What about a phone number?’

  Alex shook their head. ‘Haven’t got one. Just the address.’

  Pa looked around at the chaos of the flat and clucked his tongue. ‘Sp-sp-sp,’ he told Alex.

  ‘Yeah, I know.’ Alex slumped against the wall. ‘But what can I do? It’s out of control.’

  ‘Sp-sp-sp.’ Pa pointed to Tash and Clancy, and motioned them forward. They’ll help you!

  ‘Gee, thanks, Pa,’ muttered Tash.

  ‘Maybe we could help you throw stuff out,’ murmured Clancy doubtfully.


  Alex brightened. ‘Would you? Really?’

  ‘Sp-sp-sp!’ said Pa.

  Clancy looked at Tash. ‘I think we owe Alex,’ she said in a low voice. ‘For letting us use the toilet. And drinks. And finding Bee’s address.’

  ‘Okay, okay.’ Tash screwed up her face. ‘What if we give you, I dunno, twenty minutes of full on throwing-out-crap time? But after that, you’re on your own.’

  ‘Deal,’ said Alex.

  They dug out a big black garbage bag and under Pa’s supervision, the three of them rapidly filled it with rubbish. When in doubt, and when Alex was hesitating, Pa would give the final verdict with an emphatic, ‘Yeah!’ or ‘Nah!’, thumb up or thumb down, like a Roman emperor.

  After twenty minutes, Clancy could see the carpet on the floor, and the couch had emerged from piles of discarded clothing, magazines, beer bottles and cereal bowls. Alex, Clancy saw with envy, had a great collection of cereal boxes (though a disappointing number of them were empty). The small round dining table was revealed, the sink was filled with dishes and Alex’s laundry basket overflowed with washing.

  ‘Sp-sp-sp.’ Pa pointed to the sink. ‘Sp-sp-sp.’ He gestured to the laundry basket.

  ‘Two jobs for today.’ Alex heaved a giant sigh. ‘I guess I could manage that.’ They looked up hopefully. ‘You don’t want to give me a hand … ?’

  ‘We need to go,’ said Tash firmly.

  ‘Fair enough,’ said Alex.

  ‘Sp-sp-sp!’ said Pa heartily, reaching out his hand to shake Alex’s in congratulation.

  ‘You’ll be fine.’ Clancy looked around the flat, impressed. Maybe no power in the universe could reverse the power of entropy, but it wasn’t true that chaos was inevitable. Disorder could be transformed into order, more or less; all it took was a bit of energy. She let herself out onto the balcony to see if she could spot the arcade, or the building that seemed to have replaced it.

  Alex joined her. ‘I should thank you. I don’t know what I would have done today if you three hadn’t shown up.’

  Clancy remembered. ‘You said you were busy.’

  ‘Mm.’ Alex stared out at the city skyline. ‘So I did.’

  ‘Look!’ Clancy’s hand shot out. ‘You might not be able to see any stars, but you can see the moon from here.’