‘Has she rung you?’ I asked.
Her hands stopped their quick pecking at the dishes in the cupboard, re-positioning them. ‘Are you saying she hasn’t called home?’
‘Once,’ I said, my voice squeaky. ‘But she only spoke to Dad. We were at school.’
Her forehead creased.
‘I’m worried she doesn’t have everything she needs, cause maybe she stayed longer that she thought she would,’ I said.
‘Your Aunty Peg will lend her what she needs. Lord knows she’ll have something to spare in that house of hers.’ She tried for a cheery tone cause everyone made fun of Aunty Peg and her keeping stuff.
‘She forgot her wedding ring,’ I said.
Mrs Tyler’s smile disappeared. ‘She left her ring?’
I didn’t tell her that I was scared Mum leaving it behind meant she’d gone forever, but I could see I didn’t need to. The creases in her face cut in deeper. She shoved the last things in fast, closed the cupboard with a bang. She hurt my shoulder with her squeeze.
‘Reckon we should take it to her?’ I didn’t say it was because I needed to tell Mum how sorry I was.
‘You could very well be right there, love. Let me speak to your dad.’
I was glad, and not glad.
Dad was all buttoned up in the car. We stopped in at the milk bar to get the mail. Philly and I were out the car door before it had practically stopped, but there was nothing from Mum. There were no corners in Philly’s face to hide her disappointment.
‘Letter?’ Dad snorted when we reported back to him. ‘She’s only away for a few days. She’s not likely to waste her money on a stamp. She’d get home before any letter.’
We got our choc wedges and piled back into the car. We licked at them like it was normal because, no matter what, we knew Mum saved up all week so we could buy them and we weren’t going to let her down.
When we got to the hill before our place, Dad kept his eyes on the road. Tim and Philly and I looked at each other, worry bouncing between us in the back seat. Normally Dad didn’t do what people called ‘driving’ down this hill. He usually crept along, taking in all the things that had changed since he was last that way, making a new map of everything in his head.
‘Do you want me to check the level of the creek, Dad?’ Philly piped up finally.
‘I’ll be on the lucerne,’ I said. ‘Tell you how much it’s grown.’
‘She’ll be right,’ he said, his eyes still glued to the road, taking the curve down to the bridge more than fast.
Tim and Philly and I grabbed the back of the seat in front and handballed some more worry between us. We made it home in one piece, though. Dad turned off the engine and pulled on the handbrake. He put two hands on the steering wheel and leaned back. After a minute of waiting and watching him, Tessa shooed us in to put the beans on and make the gravy for the roast.
‘Is he still there?’ Tessa asked, a while later, when I lifted the lace to look out the window.
‘Stuck like mud.’
‘Tell him dinner’s on the table.’
Philly went out and that did get him moving, but slow. He didn’t even wash his hands. He pulled his chair out and angled it towards the window, his legs stretched long and eyes staring out over the paddocks. He leaned his forearm on the table and drummed his fingers against the tablecloth. Tessa put his meal down in front of him. We all waited until he picked up his fork and speared it into the lamb before we got stuck into ours.
After a while, Dad broke the silence. ‘Nobody should be bothering people.’ He shoved a forkful of squashed peas into his mouth.
The other kids looked up. I didn’t.
‘What do you mean, Dad?’ asked Tim.
‘That’s all I’m saying. People have their own worries. And your mother’s fine.’
From the corner of my eye, I saw Tim shrug and get back to his eating business.
‘It puts shame on this family,’ Dad went on, a whine getting in to his voice, ‘and I can’t be explaining to everybody that your mother has got her hands full with an emergency so doesn’t have time to ring every five minutes, and what a drama queen certain people are.’
Tessa looked around, stricken. Then she saw me with my head down, keeping a close eye on proceedings on my plate. Relief that she was off the hook was chased away by a grimace that she should have known a thing or two.
‘What?’ I burst out, accusing her.
‘What, what?’ she said.
‘You always think it’s me.’
‘Because it always is.’ Her face twisted hard and voice loud. ‘The rest of us are doing what we should. Tim’s out on the horse, I’m cooking—’
‘What about Philly?’
‘Philly’s a baby,’ said Tessa. ‘But even she did the folding.’
‘I’m not a baby!’ said Philly.
I stared knives back at Tessa. ‘You’re not Mum and you never will be.’
She sprang to her feet. ‘You—’
Dad’s fist thundered on the table. ‘We’ll have a bit of peace around the dinner table,’ he said. ‘Your mother would be ashamed of the lot of yous.’
Tessa sat down, pulled her chair back into the table. ‘Sorry, Dad.’
He grunted.
I wasn’t sorry. I was glad because me talking to Mrs Tyler had been all forgotten. What I wasn’t glad about was that it looked like Dad wasn’t listening to Mrs Tyler either, and we weren’t getting in the Holden to go and see Mum anytime soon.
When Philly and I woke up Monday morning, there was a little black body tangled up in the lace
