suppressed a giggle as Jean went back into the office. She pulled the wet, fogged-up glasses from the washer, shutting the lid with her foot. Bazza caught her eye and smiled at her, warmly. Why had it taken her so long to notice what a great guy he was? Maybe it was because of the way Frank talked about him as if he was an idiot. Rose as well.
Mia used to have a crush on Jonesy. He was a cop too, on highway patrol. He was a tall, thin guy, his clothes always looking too short at the ankles but too wide at the waist. Somehow, he always gave Mia the impression that he was laughing at her. One drunken night, she’d given him a blow job around the back of the tavern. He’d gone out for a smoke and she’d pretended that she wanted one too. When she’d taken a puff she’d started coughing. He’d raised his eyebrow at her, told her she was cute and somehow they were kissing before she even knew it. The taste of tobacco in his mouth made her eyes water.
Desperately, she’d wanted to impress him. To show him that he had underestimated her. That was why she’d given him the blow job, just to see what he’d do. But as soon as his dick was in her mouth she wished she hadn’t started it. She didn’t feel as powerful as she’d thought she would. Afterward, he just zipped up his pants, went back inside and still talked to her in the exact same dismissive way he always had.
Bazza was different. She had never even noticed him until the night of the big fire. She remembered it vividly. The acrid stink of smoke, the windows of the courthouse exploding, one after another. She’d stood there, hands over her mouth, trying not to cry. Out of nowhere, Baz was beside her.
“You okay?” he’d said.
She had just looked at him, and then his big arm was around her. Immediately, everything had felt a little easier, just like when she was with Rose. Every time she thought about him, she could still feel that warm, heavy, protective arm across her shoulders.
Rose came back into the bar, her hand over her mouth.
“What?” Mia asked, but Rose didn’t reply. Instead, a small smile crept out from under Rose’s hand.
“Who was it?”
“Don’t laugh,” Rose said, and her eyes were all lit up in a way Mia hadn’t seen for a while. Not since she’d told her about being short-listed for the cadetship. Something cold gripped Mia’s stomach.
“Just tell me.”
“I sent an article in to the Star.”
“The Star?” Mia asked, both desperately wanting to know what Rose would say and also frantically trying to put off knowing. “Don’t you think they’re a joke?”
She wasn’t ready for Rose to go. Not yet, not quite yet.
“I do, but who cares? I’ve got to start somewhere. I sent them an article this morning. They’re going to publish it!”
“What article?” Mia asked. “You didn’t mention it.”
Rose looked at her, and Mia knew her reaction was all wrong. “Just something stupid about those dolls,” Rose said. “It doesn’t matter though—it’s my first byline.”
“That’s fantastic!” Mia grabbed Rose’s hand and grinned. “I knew I could see your success in the stars.”
“I guess you did!” she said gleefully.
“This is so great,” Mia said, letting go of Rose’s hand and turning to put down the tea towel so that she could let her smile drop.
“And they said they want me to write a follow-up piece and they’ll publish that too!”
It was happening; Rose’s big breakthrough, her ticket out of Colmstock. Rose was always saying they’d go together, but Mia knew it would never happen. She couldn’t leave. She turned back around and threw her arms around Rose.
“Congratulations,” she said, squeezing her tight and trying her hardest to focus on Rose’s happiness and block out the fear of what her life would be like without her.
Rose had never experienced happiness like this before. It was just the Star, which she knew was a pretty crappy newspaper, but still she felt giddy. It made her want to smile at people on the street; it even made church slightly more bearable. Slightly.
The pews were full today. Father stood at the altar, giving his sermon. Usually, Rose didn’t even bother to look interested, but today she tried her hardest to actually listen.
“‘Now have come the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God, and the authority of His Christ,’” he read. Rose wished they had one of those young, hip priests she’d heard about. Someone who made their sermons relevant to people’s actual lives. She looked around the room, wondering if it was someone here who had left that doll on her doorstep. Should she hate them or thank them?
Rose was squeezed tight between Scott and Sophie. She always chose to sit between them. It was easier than trying to get them to stop squabbling if they were next to each other. Next to Sophie was Laura, who was leaning against their mother. Last Sunday, Laura had started crying because their mum would not let her sit on her lap. It was loud and embarrassing. But now she seemed happy enough, sucking her thumb with her eyes taking in the room. Church was the one time you saw everyone with their families. She could see the back of Frank’s head. He was sitting near the front with his elderly mother listening intently, as he always did.
“‘For the accuser of our brethren is cast down,’” Father continued, “‘which accused them before our God day and night.’”
Bazza was sitting in a row with his three brothers. They looked very alike, with their broad shoulders and dumb eyes. Not that you could have seen their eyes today, or any other Sunday. All four of them were asleep in a line, their chins lolling on their chests.
“‘They have gained the victory over him by the blood of the lamb and of their testimony; and because they held their lives cheap and not shrink even from death.’”
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