Oliver still doesn’t say anything.
‘Thanks.’ I smile weakly. ‘She’s only just getting back home now. She wanted to know how she can help tomorrow.’
‘Don’t be silly. She doesn’t have to worry about a thing. I’ve told everyone we’re starting at eleven o’clock, ending at one. Paula needs to sleep whenever she can. When Oliver was a bub, oh heavens was he a crier. His little crimson face became even redder whenever—’
‘Mum!’ Oliver interjects.
‘Paula’s looking forward to it,’ I say. It’s half the truth. I know Paula is partly dreading everyone seeing her in such a dishevelled state. She’s exhausted and sore, with leaking boobs and stitches in her nether regions, but she did confess she’s looking forward to the gifts. Babies, apparently, require a lot of expensive stuff.
Diana ruffles Oliver’s hair. ‘Now that Mr Serious here has finished his film thingy, he can relax, can’t you, darling? I’ve had no luck, but Sky, you’ll get that twinkle back in his eye no doubt.’
I don’t know what to say to this. Oliver obviously hasn’t filled her in, and an awkward silence hangs.
‘Well,’ she looks between us, ‘I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it. I have a thousand errands to do before Sabine gets dropped back from ballet in the carpool.’
More chimes sound from the door but this time they bang like cymbals. We all look around to see my father enter. He’s got a coat hanger with a dry-cleaning bag draped over his shoulder.
‘Hey!’ he says brightly. ‘How are my best buds today?’
Diana laughs. ‘You’re like a character out of a sitcom or something.’
Dad chuckles and leans on the counter. I can see he wants to ask Oliver and me what’s happened since the video was taken down and the campaign cancelled, but he can’t with Diana there. He looks at me searchingly and then at Oliver, but we give nothing away. If Diana’s puzzled by the interaction, she doesn’t show it.
‘Did you see the review of Jaxon’s band?’ Dad asks me. Oh my God. His timing, I swear.
I shake my head.
‘I’ll send it to you. It was awesome.’
I don’t respond, hoping he’ll change the subject or, even better, just leave so Oliver and I can finally talk.
‘So ...’ Dad says. ‘Since you’re all here together ... I’ve got some news to share.’
My stomach swirls with acid. Not only is Oliver going to break up with me, Dad’s going to go back to Alaska. I notice Diana looking at Dad enthusiastically. Oh no, scratch that; Dad’s going to tell us he’s in love with Diana. My mind flashes to a future scenario where Oliver’s my stepbrother; it makes me grimace.
‘Did you say yes?’ Diana asks.
‘Yes to what?’ I ask Dad.
‘You remember when we were at the beer garden, and the waitress, Jedda?’
I think back to our lunch and the woman watching him. ‘With the long dark hair?’
‘That’s the one. She asked me out a while back. I didn’t want to say yes at first, but I thought, what the heck?’
My shoulders drop with relief. This means he’s staying here—for now at least. I look between Diana and Dad. So there’s nothing going on between them?
Diana turns to me. ‘I told your father that he has to get back out there ... which brings me to my own confession.’ She looks at Oliver now. ‘I just signed up to a dating app. Adam helped me work on my profile. I’ve been too nervous before, but now I have three matches! Want to see?’
‘Ew, Mum, no!’
‘Your parents can date!’ Diana says definitively. ‘You want us to be single forever? Your dad’s certainly moved on, Oliver.’
Oliver doesn’t answer. I think we can both agree on this point at least, but yes, our parents being single forever would be preferable.
‘Are you going to the concert?’ Diana asks Dad.
‘Jedda plays the violin in a string quartet,’ Dad says to me by way of explanation. ‘They’re performing tonight. It’s a two-hour drive to the music conservatorium, would you believe it? I have to go glam up, and quick.’
Glam up. If I wasn’t in such a bad mood, the image of Dad ‘glamming up’ would make me laugh.
He taps the table with his fist. ‘Right then. I’m going to go make myself presentable.’ He exits towards the stairs that go up to his studio.
Diana fusses around with some paperwork then goes out into the back room. Oliver and I are alone at the cashier at last.
‘Sky ...’ he starts.
‘I’m sorry, Oliver,’ I say. ‘Really. I know I’ve ruined your chances at Viola Films. It’s just that I’m—’
‘Sky. Let me speak.’
I bite my lip. It’s coming. All the signs are here. But it’s my fault. At least it won’t be the cheesy it’s not you, it’s me line, because this was all me. I want to run away. Run fast and far so I don’t have to hear it. Maybe if he doesn’t say it, it won’t exist.
‘It’s been a hard few days,’ Oliver says slowly. ‘But I’ve spent a lot of time thinking, and—’
The door erupts in bells yet again, and I’m not sure whether to be grateful or frustrated at another interruption. An elderly lady comes in and goes straight to the vitamin section.
‘So, I’ve been doing some soul searching or whatever, and—’
Another chime, and Sabine runs in. She’s wearing the extra-flouncy tutu with diamantes that Oliver bought her in Melbourne. ‘Sky, look!’ She goes up on her toes and pirouettes around. I force a smile.
‘Not now, Sabine,’ Oliver says.
‘But, look!’ She jumps up, stretching her legs out. She knocks into a stand and boxes of tea fall to the floor.
‘Sabine!’ Oliver goes to pick them up.
My phone rings. This is insane. Where were all these people when I was feeling alone? It’s Lucy, which is weird, because she always texts and rarely calls. I press reject. I’ll have to call her back later.
‘Why don’t you help unpack some boxes?’ Oliver asks Sabine. ‘There’s a big one in the back just waiting for you. Mum’s there too.’ He points to the back of the shop.
‘Boring!’ Sabine sings, twirling again. ‘Can I have some chocolate?’ She runs around the side aisle to the sweet section.
Oliver looks at me, his expression apologetic. ‘I’ll just get her sorted and then we’ll talk.’
My phone is ringing non-stop. All Lucy. I can’t ignore it.
‘Lucy?’ I press the phone to my ear. ‘Everything okay?’
‘Sky.’ Her voice is hoarse. ‘Something’s happened.’
My heart stops. ‘What is it?’
‘It’s about my dad,’ she says. ‘He’s been offered a job in Africa.’
No. I bite my lip.
‘Sky?’
I’m losing Lucy. My best friend. My heart is breaking.
‘I’m so sorry, Lucy. I’ll call you back,’ I say. ‘I’m really sorry.’ I end the call. That was really selfish of me, but my brain’s zapping. I can’t think straight.
I watch Oliver as he digs out some colouring books for his sister. Diana comes out from the back room staring at her phone. ‘Oliver, I totally forgot, the handyman’s coming to put up those new shelves. He’s outside now dropping off the wood. Could you help him bring it in? He’s double-parked in the loading zone.’
Oliver mouths Sorry to me then rushes outside. I follow him and find myself out on the street, my head spinning like a top. I need to clear my thoughts ... I need space.
The handyman passes a long piece of wood to Oliver from the back of his ute.
‘I’m going for a walk,’ I call out. ‘Won’t be long.’
‘Now?’ he shouts back. ‘But, Sky, I want to talk.’
‘I’ll see you later,’ I say and start walking. I’m still in my summer thongs and they flip-flop on the pavement. I don’t know where I’m headed but I walk and walk, passing the potted grevilleas that line the centre of the pedestrian mall—an explosion of red.
It was les
s than a year ago that I arrived in this town. And soon after, at this very same spot, I first bumped into Marissa, who reluctantly invited me to her party. I was with Paula and we’d found Bella, skinny and dirty, at the end of a rope. I’d begged Paula to let me keep the dog we’d nearly run over. I named her Bella after Marissa’s favourite model. The mortifying things I did to fit in. I was so terrified of being alone, and now here I am, back in the same place. No boyfriend, no best friend.
I pass through the rest of the town barely noticing anything. A blurred figure that could be Pete floats by me but I don’t even know if it’s really him or if I’ve conjured him up. Cutting through the back of the supermarket parking lot, I head straight up the hill. I’m huffing and puffing now. I take my running shoes wherever I go, I hear Stella’s voice in my head. I wish I was more like her—strong, courageous, together, empowered. Instead, I’m a scaredy-cat escaping an oncoming break-up and avoiding a friend who needs me. Like a homing pigeon, I realise where I’m headed: the scribbly bark sapling I planted in memory of my mum. Oliver helped me plant it the night of our gala and first kiss.
Beads of sweat trickle down from my lower back into my pants as the town recedes below me and concrete turns to fields. The brown grass snaps beneath me as I walk. I stop to pick out thorns from my feet; thongs are not ideal for a bushwalk.
I get to the tree. It’s a metre high already, three skinny branches coming off the base of its slender trunk. Soon, moths will tunnel into its skin and create the scribbles that it’s famous for, the artful patterns that made it Mum’s favourite tree. If only she was here. If only. I touch the long grey-green leaves and they droop slightly—I feel you.
I plonk myself down, but the earth rejects me. Ouch. I pick myself up, twisting to pick out whatever pebbles and thorns have stuck to my bottom. I don’t see the rock jutting out of the hard soil. The edge of my thong catches, and the next moment I’m falling. I land with a bang and feel pain shoot up my left leg. I grab my ankle, which immediately starts throbbing. Tears threaten.
I try to get up but can’t. Then I start to cry and find I can’t stop. All the emotions I’ve been trying to navigate for so many weeks rise up, but the one that hurts most is Mum. I miss her so much. She told me to surround myself with good people and I did. But now Oliver and Lucy are leaving me. And maybe Dad will too.
I wipe my nose and feel my ragged breath calm slightly. At least I have Paula and Dave. And I have Lior. I’ll dedicate myself to him.
But for now, it’s time to go back to face Oliver and apologise to Lucy for hanging up on her. And I don’t want to make anyone worry either—I told myself I wouldn’t run away anymore.
I make another attempt to stand but the pain makes me gasp. The sun’s waning and mild panic starts to form—I have to get back to town. I manage to get to my feet and force myself to hop, but after ten metres I am out of breath.
I call Dave but there’s no answer. Paula’s the same. My dad’s on his way to a date and I don’t want to disturb him. It has to be Oliver. I ring and wait. I try again. No answer.
I sit down carefully, my foot throbbing, and watch as a group of rosellas fly overhead in the dimming light, their bright blue, red and green tails spreading like Japanese fans.
I call Lucy, but she doesn’t answer me either. I try Dave again and again.
It’s no use.
Chapter 20
It will be dark soon, the pain’s not subsiding and no one is answering my calls. I’ve got no choice.
Dad picks up on the first ring. I clutch my foot, trying to keep my voice steady as I tell him what happened.
‘Where are you exactly?’ Dad asks.
I explain my location, then hear muffled voices as he talks to Jedda. They must be halfway there by now.
‘Do you have water?’ he asks.
Looking around me at the parched landscape, my throat feels dry. ‘No, but I’m okay,’ I say. ‘But what should I do about my foot? I really can’t walk.’ Maybe he knows some survival skills relating to hopping across a large field.
More muffled discussion between Dad and Jedda.
‘Wait there,’ he says after a moment. ‘I’m coming.’
I shouldn’t have called him. I’ve ruined his date. ‘But ... What about the concert and—’
‘We’re turning around now. Jedda’s going to drop me off at her cousin’s place; they have a four-wheeler I can borrow. I don’t think a regular car will make it over that terrain. She’ll still make it to the concert without me. Luckily her quartet’s performing at the end.’
‘But Dad.’ I feel really bad for Jedda now. I force confidence into my voice. ‘I can try walking again.’
‘Don’t move a muscle, Sky. Your ankle may be fractured and you’ll make it worse. You’re my priority; always will be.’
His kindness opens another dam of tears, and after I hang up I lie down on my back, the grass crackling under my singlet and scraping my arms. I try to lift my foot up high, but it’s too painful to move. I close my wet eyes but after a moment I sit back up to check the ground around me. It’s been so warm lately, I still have to keep a lookout for snakes. There’s a kookaburra in a tree not far away and I try and focus on its laugh, but today it’s not funny.
I watch as the scattering of clouds is gently washed orange and pink and the sky above me deepens and darkens; a rich velvety blue descending onto the glowing horizon. Finally, I see the first star appear, twinkling all alone in the sky.
By the time the headlights of the dusty four-wheel drive appear nearly an hour later, the sky is black and my face is swollen with tears. I’ve been waiting for the right time to show Dad the tree I planted for Mum since he arrived, but this wasn’t how I imagined it. He reassures me we’ll come back again together.
He takes me straight to West Creek’s after-hours doctor, who he calls on the way, and next thing I’m bandaged up and pain free. My ankle is swollen and has turned purple, but the doctor tells us it’s just a sprain.
While I was being seen by the doctor, Dad got hold of Dave, who was in the middle of setting up a sprinkler system when I’d called earlier, and told him the situation.
I send a message to Lucy telling her how sorry I am and that I’ll come over to her house soon. I want to give her a hug, ask how she’s feeling about moving, about leaving Malcolm, and try to explain myself.
I have three more missed calls from Oliver and a text. I open the message. The handyman’s drill was so loud I didn’t hear my phone. Are you okay? Can we meet now? Please?
It’s time for me to face the situation. Meet you outside Juice Bar in ten minutes.
Tears threaten again and I go to the bathroom by the reception desk. Looking in the mirror, I pick a piece of dry grass out of my hair and try to brush the dust off my top. I dig around in my bag. At least I have lip gloss.
When I go back out, I tell Dad that I need to meet Oliver. He must know from my expression that I don’t want to talk about it because he doesn’t ask, for which I’m grateful.
I manoeuvre the crutches into the four-wheel drive and Dad has to lift me up into the seat. We drive around the block to the pedestrian mall, where the headlights illuminate Oliver waiting by the side of the road.
‘What happened?’ Oliver rushes towards me as I open the door. ‘Where have you been?’
‘I fell.’ I put the crutches down and try to climb as gracefully as I can out of the car. ‘But I’m okay.’
Oliver holds my arm as I get my balance. ‘Why did you leave?’
‘I just felt like a stroll.’ The words sound stupid, and I watch the ground as we slowly make my way towards Juice Bar, unable to look at him. ‘I went to visit Mum’s tree.’
‘Right. Is it growing well?’
‘Yeah.’ The crutches hurt my underarms and I stop in the doorway to adjust them. Oliver puts his hand on my back but I shrug him away. I don’t want affection out of pity.
I sit down on one of the plastic chairs as he orders. Although Juice Bar se
rves delicious drinks, it’s small and the bright fluorescent lights make my eyes hurt.
‘Let’s get out of here,’ Oliver says as he returns holding two tall cups.
‘I can’t walk far.’
Oliver points. ‘There’s a bench across the road.’
I hobble across the pedestrian mall to the wooden bench, set a little way back from the road. I sit down carefully and balance my crutches on the side. One falls down and Oliver gets up to prop it back in place.
Then he crouches in front of me and checks my foot, touching it carefully. ‘Should you raise your ankle?’
His gentleness makes my heart ache. ‘It’s okay.’
He gets to his feet and sits beside me. Neither of us talk for a minute as we sip our drinks. The mixture of carrot, orange and ginger hits my bloodstream and my exhaustion lifts slightly. I know I can’t put this off any longer.
‘So, what is it?’ My throat feels like it’s been filled with concrete.
‘You’re being weird,’ Oliver says quietly. ‘It’s making me nervous.’
‘I’m making you nervous?’ That’s rich.
He looks at me in confusion.
I take a deep breath then let it out in a sigh. ‘What did you want to say back in your mum’s store?’
He pauses before answering. ‘I want to know why you’re being so distant.’ His eyes are all soft and sad, which makes me want to hug him.
I stare at my juice. ‘I’ve been trying to give you space. I know you’re pissed about Pete, and me pulling the plug on the campaign. And I know I mucked up your chances with Viola Films, and I’m sorry. But if you’re going to break up with me ...’ My voice wobbles. ‘Just do it.’ I finally look up at him.
He’s staring at me in shock. ‘I’m not breaking up with you! Oh my God, Sky. I’m just trying to apologise if you’ll just give me a chance.’
‘What?’
‘I’m sorry, okay?’ His eyes are all watery. I’ve never seen them like that before. ‘I’m really sorry, Sky. I think what you did, cancelling the campaign, it was the right thing ...’
Star Page 18