‘Well, she was, and having a good time too. And they took off early, who knows where they went …and what they were doing’.
I think she added that last big for dramatic effect. And it worked.
‘Does my mother know about this, how long has this been going on for, have you seen them together before?’ I splutter, absolutely mortified.
‘Don’t know, about four months I think and yes, they hang out at the mall in Gimbly all the time’.
‘What?’ I am doing my best fish impression now, mouth hanging open. Actually, I knew Celia was going into Gimbly all the time, she told me she was having extra clarinet lessons but I bet the shifty little minx has been meeting her secret crush for clandestine (another cool word) snuggles *shudder*.
Jacinta fills me in on a few more choice tidbits. Like that Carter gave Celia his mother’s bracelet and that when Jacinta confronted Celia about their relationship only yesterday, Celia was furious and told Jacinta where to go, and it wasn’t a nice place.
The news of my sister’s inappropriate infatuation almost made me forget the reason I rode the five kilometres to Lyre Bird Swamp in the first place.
I filled Jas in on the cake stall money theft, who I think did it and why. I did leave out the bit about my conversation with Carter and his insistence that his family were so poor they had no food. I wanted to make a strong case because despite everything I heard today and even more now that I know about Celia and Carter’s love affair (yeuch!) I really want to prove the Lambs had some part in the missing money.
‘So what I want you to do, if you can, is observe Emmerllee and see if she has money to burn; in the canteen or at the surf shop or something. Has she got any new clothes or a new phone or something, and let me know.’
‘Yeah, I reckon I can do that’.
Jennie offers to drive me home which I am ecstatic about because my legs are like jelly in a blender. She yammers on about her giant pumpkins, the weather and Mrs Tremlow – who apparently put in a motion at the CWA to get Mrs Rebus kicked out for swearing, ‘Stupid old bat’. (Gee, Jennie isn’t backward in coming forward!)
Jennie drops me off at home and I dump my bike near the front door and run to the decrepit garden shed at the back of our house, over time it has melded itself into some smothering cherry trees. As I bang on the door, a little bit too forcefully, I work myself up a bit; my blood is pumping so hard my ears have whooshing noises.
‘Go away’.
‘It’s me’
‘So?’
‘I need to talk to you.’ I shift about on my feet – a crazy thought has come into my head and I wanna kick the door in like the cops do in the movies.
‘Do I care?’
‘Well you should (pause for dramatic effect), Mrs Carter Lamb’.
The door flings open and slams against the rickety shed walls making them wobble scarily. My sister is standing there with goggles pushing her dark brown hair into a peacock tail shaped wave. Her warm brown eyes are almost crossed in consternation and she has some black stuff on her cheek. Emmerllee was a little right about Celia, she does look like a mad professor.
‘Get in here’, she grabs me by the wrist and pulls me inside then shoves me into the ripped and stained arm chair crammed in her tiny lab. ‘What did you say?’
‘Mrs Lamb’, I stifle a giggle because for some reason I am feeling like this situation is like something out of a sitcom! ‘I called you Mrs Lamb because you are dating Carter Lamb and you tried to keep it quiet but I found out!
‘Who told you?’ Celia places both hands on my shoulders and looks me hard in the eyes. She does this because she reckons she knows when I’m lying by what I do with my eyes. Apparently I look down when I am remembering and up when I am trying to make something up. I have to remember this for when I interrogate the Lambs later.
‘I will not tell’. I don’t look anywhere but at her charcoal eyeliner.
‘You will you little snitch, WHO TOLD YOU!’ She is shaking me now and I am feeling a bit sick in the stomach.
‘Nup, not telling you’.
‘You little rat! You breathe a word of this to anyone I will shave your head while you’re asleep and put hydrochloric acid in your mp3 player.’
‘Whatever!’ I throw Celia off me and stand up; my head nearly touching the ceiling. ‘You are dating that little conniving sneak thief, aren’t you? I bet his sister hates that! You know they stole the cake stall money right? They are no good, the both of them!’ I am going a little high pitched now, ‘you know he laughed when his sister called you the mad professor the other day right? He doesn’t even like you, he just wanted a way to humiliate you, his sister probably put him up to it!’
Celia’s face crumples a bit now. My stomach twists in an uncomfortable way and I look at my shoes. I can feel Celia begin to shrink and I can’t look at her.
‘I didn’t want to upset you Cee Cee, it’s just, (I put my hand on her arm and force myself to look into her eyes), I wanted you know how much of a wan…’
‘Shut up Valoura.’ Celia sniffs a long hard sniff and rubs at her panda eyes. ‘You don’t know him, no one does, he is really kind and smart – everyone thinks he’s dumb but he can do like quadratic equations and stuff. And he makes me laugh.’
‘You, laugh? Wow he must be clever’.
‘Har har’, Celia mocks sarcastically and punches me on the arm. ‘Actually, I reckon you’d like him Loo, he’s a bit of a daredevil like you. He’s entering the skate comp next Saturday ‘cause there’s like five hundred dollars prize money and his family needs it.’
‘Yeah right Celia, they already have the cake stall money’. I expect Celia to start ranting at me about how ‘like, totally awesome’ her boyfriend is but she sighs and sinks onto her office chair.
‘Hmmm, the thought did cross my mind’.
I pause and look at my sorrowful sister and something clicks into place,’ is that why you were so upset last night?’
‘Yup, he came here yesterday while you were all out and brought me a cupcake from the stall. I know he has like, no money at all so I thought he must have swiped it when you guys weren’t looking, but then when you said the money was gone I….’ Celia puts her face in her small pale hands, ‘I realised he must have taken the money too. He was talking about us going to the Triple U concert in Brownton next month. I mean, we’d have to catch the train and everything to get there, where would he get the money for that?’
Celia looks at me like she wants me to give her another explanation for how this could work, but I can’t.
‘You know he’s a fish murderer too, right?’
Celia looks up at me, her face is like thunder. ‘Get out Loo, go and give Bas a wedgie or something’. And she shoves me out the door.
Worms the size of Queensland are writhing in my stomach and I desperately want to take back everything that just happened…but I can’t. ‘Time doesn’t work that way, you can never go back, only forward, Celia would rabbit on at me, ‘it’s physics’, and then bang on about glaciers and other random science-y things I don’t care to understand. Plus, Celia has never met a time lord, so, you know, der.
I can hear some kind of commotion-y noises blaring from the front of my house so I run around, pushing my way through mum’s lavender bushes. I can see Stacey with Bas and Billy looking at something lying on the ground in front of the Mercedes. For a sickening split second I think that it is Gilbert or Spazzy our silver tabby who has been hit by that stupid car, but then I realize that my bike that has been involved in a hit and scream.
And here comes the screaming.
‘Valoura why on earth was your bike lying in the middle of the driveway? Look at the damage to my car! You will be spending your pocket money for weeks to get this fixed’.
‘I don’t get pocket money’. I am kind of in shock. I feel like this is just all I need.
‘What? Oh yes I forgot, your mother is a bloody hippie. Well, you will have to work it off, starting with shampooing the carp
et in the car; don’t think I don’t know it was you who put dog faeces in there.’ Bastian and I exchange glances; it is so hard not to roar with laughter.
Aunt Stacey is really actually really mad, I can see the spit forming at the corners of her mouth, her dark red hair (which looks a lot like mine I am ashamed to say) is sticking out all over and she is thumping the bonnet of her car over and over with her fist. Her expensive pant-suit is stained with brown liquid which I guess is Aunt Scream-y’s thirtieth cup of coffee for the day. Her left eye is twitching slightly which makes her come off like a complete batty fruit cake.
And my bike, my poor beautiful bike. My key to freedom. My loyal servant, twisted and broken and not at all fixable.
Chapter 6
Could things possibly get any worse? My mum is in the kitchen making dinner; homemade veggie burgers with homemade chunky chips, yum! But even the yummy-ness of food can’t soothe the anguish in my heart.
Mum is humming quietly. I am sitting on the bench watching her, trying to work out what she is thinking. She knows I am doing this, I can tell because she glances over her shoulder at me, gives me a grin and says, ‘your brain whirring away again Loo Loo?’
‘yup.’
‘Whatchya thinkin’?
‘Just about stuff. What you thinking?’
‘About luck.’
‘Huh?’
‘You know, good luck and bad luck and whether I really believe in it.’
‘Do you?’
‘I don’t think so.’ She takes the crispy chips into the dining room then comes back and grabs me into an awkward hug so I am half hanging off the bench. It is nice. ‘You know you don’t have to think so much kitten, sometimes when you let go, the answers have room to move’. She taps me gently on the forehead.
It is a quiet(ish) meal, Aunt Stacey has put me in the freezer. She is being so childish, when she wants something, like pepper or the salad or whatever is closer to me, she makes this big deal of asking Bas or Celia or mum for it, when I could just as easily hand it to her. You would never guess she is thirty-seven years old. Mum is not un-noticing of this either and is making big sighs and flamboyant gestures whenever she passes something to The Witch Queen.
In the end she gets fed up. ‘Oh for goodness sake Stacey, grow up! You are supposed to be the adult here’.
‘Yeah, and you broke my bike remember’, I give her a death stare over the mustard.
‘Oh please Valoura, don’t you start’. My mum pleads; I can see she is on the edge. I don’t want her to be on the edge.
‘Sorry mummy-o’.
The rest of lunch is spent in silence.
After I con Bas into clearing the table for me I remember that Gilbert was sick this morning so I race up to my room to check on him and when I see him still on my bed I am a bit scared. I snuggle and cuddle him and breathe soft baby talk into his ears. He loves it. Celia always makes gagging noises when I do this, but he is my baby whether she likes it or not.
He lifts his paw and I see a flash of white underneath his chest on the bed. I stick my hand in and it’s all wet and gross and when I pull it out some slimy stuff splashes onto my face. Ew. It looks like material of some sort, linen, with some letters sown into it.
‘W.B.’ I whisper to Gilbert who looks at me with sad watery eyes. ‘Where on earth did this come from?’ I ask my doggy friend.
I soon get an answer as he gets on to his back paws and heaves, spewing up what looks like pond water, a cockroach and some more material on to my favourite Space Cats doona cover.
‘Oh, Gilbert you are disgusting!’ I shout as I recoil and begin to retch. ‘What the hell have you been up to?’
‘What’s going on?’ My mum is standing at the doorway. I hold up the bit of material and point at the very sick and sorry dog on my bed.
‘Oh Gilbert,’ my mum mimics in a nicer way, ‘what is wrong little darling?’
‘Little darling! He just puked all over my bed mum!’
‘We had better get him to Doc Haru. It looks like he’s eaten something that has not agreed with him.’
While Mum and Bas take Gilbert to the vet, Celia is told (commanded really, after my mum asks her like fifteen times already) to help me change my bed clothes. She is not at all squeamish; she informs me that scientists can’t afford to be.
I am not at all caring because I have just had what has to be one of the worst days of my life. And to make it all the worse Aunt Bossy is now standing at my door with a giant smirk on her face. She doesn’t look pretty.
‘Well, not your day is it Valoura?’
‘No’.
‘That’s what I call Karma.’
‘What?’
‘Karma.’
She folds her arms and looks very smug. I glance at her and all my rage about her boils in my throat and I hate her so much I want to throw my most favourite and precious cat lamp that I got on our trip to Japan at her head.
She continues rubbing it in. ‘Karma is when something you have done that is unkind or nasty comes back to you. For example, putting dog poo in my car, or riding your stupid bike over my strawberry patch. Now you are getting your comeuppance.’
‘Whatever’.
‘You mark my words young lady, you will have more coming to you, don’t you worry’. And she skulks off giggling to herself.
I throw my pillow at the doorway wishing so hard it was at the evil witch queen. Cee Cee looks at me pityingly.
‘You ask for it you know. Some people just can’t take you that well, if you just left each other alone you’d both be much happier’, she espouses knowingly.
‘She started it.’
******
Gilbert has to stay at the vet’s until tomorrow, he had to have his stomach pumped and is sleepy from his medication, Mum is telling me of even more crazy things in his guts as we curl up in front of the fire together, ‘there were some frogs legs, a little spring, more material and part of a trading card from a kids game…’
‘What game’, interrupts my brother, who is absorbed in computer land until this last part.
‘Gin-gi-ko I think.’
You would think it is weird my mum would know this, but she sells kids toys online for a living. This is awesome because we always get the best toys on birthdays, but also frustrating because there is often great stuff we can’t touch.
‘Billy plays Gin-gi-ko’. Offers Bastian unhelpfully.
‘So he is not going to die right?’ I ask my mum, ignoring my brother’s unsolicited information.
‘No darling, but I think its best he’s not allowed to wander any more. He is just too old to be eating anything and everything.’ My mum looks sad and serious as she thanks Aunt Cranky Pants for passing her a cup of tea.
‘He is not going to like that’ I say shaking my head.
As I get into bed, and with a little sadness realise that I don’t have a heavy dog to shift over, my mind is still on super speed after the many episodes of the day. Carters’ confession of poverty, my sister’s secret love affair with the aforementioned fish killer, my dead bicycle and my dogs’ greedy comeuppance all compete for space in my head. I try to breathe and let my thoughts come and go without giving them too much space. I think that my mum was right and if I let go some answers may come. As I drift off to sleep I again have random images and words floating in and out. My dog chewing on a giant W.B. made from frogs legs, Gilbert then turns into Carter who is on all fours eating a fish and I hear my nanna’s voice telling me, ‘when you eliminate the impossible, whatever’s left, no matter how improbable it seems, is most likely the answer’. Then it all fades to black.
Chapter 7
Monday morning - sigh, and a slow start to the day. I have another talk with nanna, but even her usual cheery-ness isn’t enough to get me out of the funk I am in.
‘At least you know that Jacinta is spying on Emmerllee for you, and that will give a sure answer one way or another whether those nasty pieces of work are behind all this bother’.<
br />
I try to sound upbeat, you know, for my grandmother’s sake, but I feel like doing nothing but going back to bed and burying my head in my pillow and pretending that I am nothing more than a lump of bedclothes.
The usual morning racket is going on downstairs. Thankfully Aunt Stacey is off to the city for most of the week for her very important job where she bosses other people around and not me. This thought makes a smile creep at the edges of my mouth. I peek through my blankets and look that my larvae who are now cocooned in silky stuff - now they’re called Pupa or something, well this is what Snippypedia said anyway, I’d rather look things up on the internet; it’s faster than trawling through books.
‘Valoura, get out of bed, mum says you have to go with her to pick Gilbert up from the vets.’ That was Bastian, screeching like a screech owl outside my door. He won’t come in because he knows I’ll go mental at him.
‘Eramph fubble smoth’ I mumble back. Bastain then screams down to mum that I have been zombie-fied and could he please have permission to ‘take me down’. Mum shouts back that he can’t ‘take me down’ but he can pull the doona off of me and tickle my feet until I submit. This gets me out of bed quick smart.
‘You come in here bug-brain and you’ll wish you were given a wheelchair for Christmas’, I fling open the door and see a flash of Bas’s heel on the stairway. ‘Catch me first YA STINKING ZOMBIE’, he yells as he slams the front door – hopefully behind him.
I am about to slink back to bed when Celia shoots out of the bathroom across the hall and pulls me in. She has been dying her hair pink and it’s all sticky-uppy from the dye.
‘Whaaaaat?’ I whine. I am not interested in her banging on about her boyfriend today. I am depressed. I miss my bike.
‘Are you gonna tell mum?’
‘What?’
‘Are you going to tell mum about Carter?’
‘Nah’.
‘Good’, and she goes to shove me back out the door.
‘Will you stop pushing me about, I’m not that Potato Patch doll you’ve got stashed under your bed you know.’
‘’Shut up mucus.’
Celia goes to slam the door in my face but then a brainwave hits me. ‘What are you going to pay me to keep my mouth shut?’