‘Agatha? Are you in there?’
She hadn’t heard her mother approach. She moved to the door and inched it open.
‘Yes.’
‘Agatha, I need your help. Quickly. Quickly. I need your help.’ Her mother’s voice had a sense of urgency, but Agatha knew better than to pay attention to that. Edith was already shuffling back down the hallway with her long, unkempt hair, pulled back into a ponytail and her worn slippers landing perfectly in the spare spots of carpet with each step.
Agatha turned to make sure her suitcase had been pushed back far enough to be out of sight, shut the door and followed.
She found her mother in the kitchen. ‘Look here, Aggie. Look here.’ Edith was standing in front of the dishwasher that had not washed a dish for as long as Agatha could remember. The door was firmly closed, and Edith’s hands were on either side trying to open it. ‘It’s stuck. They broke it. I told you they would break things. They always break things.’
‘What does it matter? It doesn’t work anyway.’ Agatha was irritated, and she didn’t disguise it, not that her mother would notice. When Edith was panicked, she didn’t notice Agatha’s irritation or Agatha herself.
‘I need it opened. I want to see what’s inside. I have to check. I had things in there, special things I was saving. They may have taken them . . . ’ Edith’s rambling continued. Agatha stepped forward and nudged her mother gently to the side. She put her hand to the centre, found the lock and pulled open the door. The inside had been cleaned and was still damp from a rinse. ‘It’s working again. They must have fixed it.’ She turned to her mother. ‘That’s great, Mum. We can use it.’
Edith peered in. She didn’t appear to be pleased or displeased that someone had fixed their dishwasher. She turned and left the room. Agatha’s initial excitement about having a clean, working dishwasher wouldn’t last long. Within a few moments Edith returned with an armful of plastic containers, the ones Agatha had moved from the sofa, and began to pile them in.
‘You can’t put that sort of stuff in a dishwasher, Mum.’ Agatha reached in to remove the containers. Edith slapped her hand away, the sharp impact immediately making a red mark.
‘Leave it Aggie. Leave it.’
Agatha stepped back, rubbing her hand, soothing the slap. She had seen this a thousand times before. Edith continued to ferry containers from the sitting room to the dishwasher, shoving them in, taking them out and shoving them back in, trying to fit more and more. Agatha stepped back and sat down at the kitchen table, in the only chair that remained there. She watched her mother. As the dishwasher filled the panic began to subside.
‘I’m sorry Mum,’ Agatha said. ‘I just wanted my spot back, on the sofa. I’m sorry.’
Her mother came over to her and gently placed her hand on top of Agatha’s head, smoothing down her hair. ‘It’s all better now Aggie. See it all fits.’ She pointed to the dishwasher. ‘Are you hungry? They left some food in the cupboard.’
Agatha stood up and gave her mother a small hug, the way Katherine did to her. Edith hugged her back, briefly and stiffly, almost as if she had forgotten what to do. The fleeting moment of tenderness was over, and Edith turned and left; back to her chair on the veranda.
Agatha let out a sigh then went to the cupboard and found it had been stocked with containers of food that could be heated up in the microwave and boxes of cereal. She opened the door of the refrigerator and it too had been cleaned out and food and milk had been added. This only happened after they had been into the house, after she had been removed, on the day before her return. Once the contents were gone, Agatha would have to rely on other means of finding food.
In the drawer at the bottom of the refrigerator were some apples and oranges and shoved in beside them, were several packets of tea light candles, a broken bike helmet and a DVD.
Agatha shook her head and checked to make sure her mother wasn’t coming back in before quickly rearranging them so that they were away from the fruit. From the cupboard she took two packets of noodles, a few boxes of muesli bars, rice crackers, and as many fruit cups as she could carry. She checked again that her parents were still outside in their chairs before making her way back to her bedroom.
Once inside, with the door closed and locked, another request she asked Nell for, she dropped everything on her bed. She separated out the things she had gathered, counted them and contemplated going back for more. ‘This will do for now,’ she told herself.
She pulled out the orange suitcase and leaving it on the floor, unzipped it. Agatha rearranged her clothes to make room for the food and then checked the inside pocket. Her hand found the soft tea towel Katherine had given her. She pulled it out and checked its contents. A clean knife, fork and two spoons. She rearranged them and wrapped them back up, carefully placing them back.
She looked at the food and the space she had created and carefully arranged everything so that it was neatly ordered. Before closing the suitcase, Agatha opened one of the boxes of muesli bars, choc chip and oat, or as Katherine says, sugar and more sugar, and put it on the bed. Closing the suitcase and zipping it, she slowly and quietly pushed it back
