* * *
The weekend finally arrived and Elliot woke up hours earlier than usual. He sat at the upstairs bay window, staring out over the drive. After what felt like an eternity, his Mum came upstairs and sat beside him. ‘The time will go faster if you keep busy, Eli,’ she said, ‘Why don’t you go make a start on the painting?’ He decided that she was right, and he would see the house from the tree anyway when Julia arrived.
He’d made it through almost half of the wall and gotten so focused on keeping his lines straight that he didn’t even hear her climbing the old ladder.
‘Sorry I was late. Oh! You’ve started without me.’ Julia sat beside him on the wooden floor and picked up the second paintbrush. Elliot was bursting with happiness that she’d really come. Between the two of them the painting was done in no time and he led her around the side of the house to wash the paintbrushes, pointing out the vegetable garden he’d helped his mum with and the table beneath the trees where they had afternoon tea. She told him again how she wished she lived in the country.
‘It’s a good place,’ he said, repeating what he’d heard his Dad say. ‘Close enough to the city to not be excluded, but far enough to have space and clean air.’
Julia nodded in awe, looking around her to take everything in. It was the perfect time of year to visit, and Elliot felt puffed up with pride at the look on her face. As they made their way back to the house, Elliot waved to his Dad over by the far fence, bent over the back gate with his tool kit. His Dad stood up straight and gave a small wave back. Elliot couldn’t make out the expression on his face and was surprised he didn’t come over to meet Julia, but he expected he would come inside when he was finished and join them for lunch.
Elliot found the cookie dough in the fridge and the rolling pins laid out, and shook a bit too much flour onto the bench top. They rolled and cut out all sorts of shapes: butterflies, dinosaurs, teddy bears and Christmas trees, even though it was only October. His Mum came through while they were working and chatting and stood in the doorway for a while. Elliot glanced up and noticed the same strange smile on her face that Stacey had been giving him lately. He shook off his confusion for now, because Julia was talking. When he looked up again she had gone, and he felt a surge of annoyance that she hadn’t introduced herself either. Maybe his parents were trying to teach him his manners, and were waiting for him to introduce his friend himself.
‘I’m going to ask Mum to help us with the oven,’ he said, dusting the flour off on his jeans. ‘I’m not supposed to use it myself because it’s got a trick to it.’
Julia smiled and nodded. ‘I’ll just do a few more butterflies.’
Elliot ran and skipped out, poking his head in the laundry, the lounge room and out onto the veranda before spotting his parents by the garden, their heads bent together as though they were sharing secrets. He ran over, kicking up the dust by the firebreak.
‘We need your help with the oven, Mum.’ He was breathily heavily from the exertion of running. His mother stood up straighter and brushed down her shirt, before crouching down before him. Elliot had grown quite tall over the last summer, and she hadn’t had to stoop to his level for a long time. He stepped back, feeling like a child about to be punished.
‘Elliot,’ she spoke softly, like she did when she sensed his temper coming. ‘Where did you meet Julia?’
Elliot was confused. ‘At school, of course,’ he said loudly, and he wasn’t sure why he felt so defensive all of a sudden.
His Mum looked up at his Dad with a worried look on her face. ‘We called Miss Stacey, Eli. There’s only one Julia at your school and she’s in grade six. There haven’t been any new students. She says that--’
‘What are you talking about?’ Elliot took a big step back, ‘We’ve had lunch together every day. If you would just come inside and meet her, I’m sure she can explain. Maybe they had her name wrong.’
‘Elliot,’ his father spoke this time, his voice gentler than he was used to hearing, ‘There’s no one else in there. No one has come today.’
Elliot felt his temper building for the first time in weeks, clenching his fists so tight that his nails drew blood. ‘She’s been here all day! You just don’t want to meet her; you don’t want to meet my friend!’ With that he spun on his worn shoes and ran back inside, bursting into the kitchen with angry tears on his face.
‘Julia, Julia, I don’t know why-- ‘He stopped short. There was no one there. He stood slack-jawed in the middle of the kitchen, staring at the unbaked cookies on the counter.
All the butterflies were gone.
Elliot was in a mood all weekend, crying confused tears and demanding they tell him why she’d left, why they’d sent her away. He couldn’t sleep Sunday night, worrying himself sick over how he would explain why his parents had behaved that way. He ran into the lunch area almost breathless with worry, only to find his usual table empty.
It was empty every day that week and the next. Elliot withdrew back into himself further than he ever had. Stacey started sitting with him every day, forcing conversation and chatting nonstop to cover his silences. The other kids hardly bothered to tease him anymore. Eventually Elliot started to forget Julia, or started to pretend to so they would all stop looking at him like he was mad. The summer holidays came and went, passing in a blur of sweat, sunburn and river water.
* * *
On the first day of the next year, Elliot took his usual seat at the back of the classroom, and settled into his chair, his eyes downcast to the desk. The teacher rang her handheld bell for quiet but he didn’t look up. He rarely did.
‘Class, we have a new student joining us this year and I hope you’ll all make her feel included. There’s an empty seat up the back there, dear, beside Elliot.’
The seat beside him had remained empty for as long as he could remember. He looked up and met the kind gaze of a skinny, freckled girl with eyes like pond water. He couldn’t believe it.
‘Make sure you all say hello at recess,’ Mrs Marron continued, ‘And make Julia feel welcome.’
*
Julia Page 2