was comfortable in the attic; that’s where I hang out most of the time. Two light shafts in the roof give excellent light for painting.
As we sat in the lounge room, questions backed up in my head, but I was too mentally stretched to ask them. Dad went to speak then changed his mind. The dark hollows around his eyes told me that he was tired and worried. ‘Who’s hungry?’ he asked.
‘I’ll put on the kettle,’ said Aunt Cass, but Dad put out his hand.
‘Stay here with Steph,’ he suggested. ‘I’ll pop the kettle on.’
The worry lines on Aunt Cass’s face were deep. I appreciated the quietness between us. I seriously needed time to think things through.
Dad walked in carrying a tray. Aunt Cass took a sandwich from the tray, put it on a plate and handed it to me. I stared at it, picked it up, nibbled around the crusty edges, and placed it back on the plate. ‘Dad, I’m going to bed,’ I said, getting up. ‘Wake me if anything happens.’ Dad didn’t reply. ‘Did you hear me?’
‘Yeah, yeah, I did,’ he said. ‘I’ll wake you.’ As I started walking Dad called me back. ‘Steph, you did well. I’m sorry if I upset you at the hospital.’
I shrugged. ‘It’s cool. I’m sorry too.’
Chapter Four
I MADE FOR the kapok mattress beneath the window in the attic and dialled Libby up on FaceTime.
Libby’s face came up on the screen. ‘Steph, I’ve been worried sick. What happened? Where have you been?’ She moved in closer. ‘Have you been crying?’
‘It’s been a shitty day.’ I started to go on, but my voice cracked.
‘Oh, Steph –’
‘Can … can you come over?’
‘Sure.’
I threw the iPad on the mattress, covered my face with the pillow and sobbed into it, crying myself to sleep.
The current was strong as it pulled Mum away from the shore. I attempted to swim across to her, but I couldn’t close the distance between us. Transparent jellyfish floated to the surface; their hoods sat like giant domes on the water. I stopped swimming and splashed my hands against the water, creating waves to push them away. A venomous tentacle wrapped around my wrist, sending a shooting pain up my arm. ‘Steph, go back,’ Mum called, and then she was gone.
I sat up startled. The stairs creaked, the door flung open, and Libby rushed over and knelt beside me. I hugged her so tight she made a noise. My nose started to run. ‘I’ll put gunk on your top,’ I told her, pulling away, wiping my nose with the back of my hand.
‘Steph, what happened?’
‘Mum’s in the hospital. We were snorkelling and – ’ I broke into tears. ‘Please stay, I can’t be alone tonight.’
I woke in a sweat. The time on my phone read 2 am. I stepped over Libby and made my way downstairs for a glass of water. Dad was in the kitchen, sitting at the table with a cup of tea and his laptop. I glanced over his shoulder at the screen. He was on a heart website. The words heart disease stood out. I made a conscious effort to stay calm.
I took a glass from the cupboard and turned on the tap. ‘What does Google tell us?’
‘Google says that you should go back to bed.’
‘Libby’s staying over. She snores worse than you. I can’t sleep … I want to stay here with you.’ Dad pulled out a chair, and I sat beside him. ‘Do you think Mum’s got heart disease?’
Dad took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Steph, it could be anything. It might be something minor.’
‘Or big.’
Libby shuffled into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. ‘What’s happening?’
‘Steph’s going back to bed,’ said Dad, and Libby did a U-turn and shuffled back to bed.
‘Off you go,’ said Dad, shooing me away with his hand.
Libby pulled back the covers and rolled over. I slipped in beside her, my front to her back, and put my arm over her arm. ‘My brain won’t stop thinking,’ I told her.
‘Trauma can do that to people. I’ve seen it heaps of times on CSI.’
‘This isn’t a dumb television show.’
‘I’m just saying that stress does weird stuff to people,’ she sighed.
Most friends my age had new glitzy houses, with fancy stainless steel appliances. Our house was old, but the house wrapped around our family like a warm blanket. Dad made hot chocolate on the potbelly stove.
Libby sat at the table eating scrambled eggs with my baby teaspoon that had bunnies engraved on the handle. Egg rolled off the spoon into her lap. She used her long red manicured nails like chopsticks to pick it up and eat it. ‘We can drop you home on the way,’ I told her.
‘I’m coming to the hospital,’ she told me.
I stared at Dad with a questioning look, not that I minded Libby coming, but it was weird that he would choose to include her in something like this. ‘How come?’
‘Because, I’m your friend,’ she said.
Dad glanced back at me through his rear view mirror. I dropped my head and pretended to be interested in the iPad on Libby’s lap. She had her Facebook page open on a photograph of three boys standing with their tongues hanging out like the giraffes during feeding time at the zoo. Sometimes, I think that the zoo should have a cage for teenage boys.
Blue, green, yellow, orange, and once again we were on the lowest level of the car park. I took a deep breath in preparation for the lift ride.
We stepped out of the lift into the corridor of the ICU. Dad left us and went off in search of Dr Wong. I half expected that we might bump into the boy with the blond hair and the undone laces who was here yesterday.
When Dad returned, he said, ‘Steph, stay here with Aunt Cass and Libby. I won’t be long.’ I reached out and grabbed his arm.
‘No way, I want to see Mum’s doctor with you.’
‘Steph, please.’
‘Dad, you’re always telling me to grow up and take responsibility, but when it suits you, you treat me like a kid. I don’t want second-hand information; I want to hear what the doctor has to say. I’m coming with you.’
Aunt Cass reached out and touched Dad’s arm. ‘She’s right,
