Girl Next Door - Alyssa Brugman [65]
Will shakes his head. 'He doesn't drink. He wants to be a professional triathlete, but he's not quite good enough. He dreams of owning a yacht one day and doing a round-the-globe trip, but he has an old car that breaks down all the time and eats up all his savings.'
When Mum comes back she looks better. She's washed her face, but her eyes are still puffy. Then it dawns on me that she didn't sleep. She watched over us instead. In my head I see images from all the wildlife programs of mother big cats – leopards and cheetahs watching out while their kittens rest. It makes me teary just thinking about it.
My mum is quite cat-like. Even through all of this she's maintained her dignity. I have only seen inaction – a kind of numbing denial. But maybe she knew what was going on all along?
Maybe she was copping it on the chin?
I rub my eyes and pick up the paper that I abandoned before. I flick through, and then I see the ad. I can't believe it. I lay it down flat.
'Hey! Listen to this: "Long-term, live-in manager wanted for Wombat Crossing boutique holiday cabins. Check in and out, answer phone enquiries, take reservations, cleaning. Live on site, free accommodation. Would suit family or couple. Easy drive to local schools and shopping centre. Small remuneration package."' I stare at Mum and Will. 'It's perfect!'
Will snatches up the paper. 'Awesome! It would be like being on holiday all the time!'
Mum's wearing that face again. She would hate it. I know she would, but it would be a home, and we'd all get used to it. It would be quiet, and I could go to a normal school, and be a normal person with a roof. We could stay in one place and be a team.
'This is not the sort of job you take on a whim,' she begins.
I pull out Declan's phone and thrust it into her hand. 'Ring them!' I say. 'Ring them now!'
'They have long-drop toilets, Jenna-Belle. Remember?'
'But it's a place to stay!' Will argues. 'I'll help out, I promise. I could do stuff before school, and on weekends. It would be ace!'
'Tell them we can start now! Today!' I implore.
Mum looks at Declan's phone. Will and I have our eyes glued on her face.
She punches the number in. She licks her lips. 'Ah yes, good morning,' she says in her smooth phone voice. 'I was just reading the paper from . . .' She flicks to the cover, and winces. 'Ah. The important thing is that I saw your ad. It leapt out at me because our family have been to Wombat Crossing on a holiday, and it was so . . . memorable.' She pauses. 'Really? Is that so? Uh-huh. Thanks.'
She drops the phone back on the table.
'Well?' I ask.
She sighs. 'They found someone already.'
28
TWENTY-FOUR
DOLLARS AND
FORTY-FIVE
CENTS
At nine a new waiter arrives. The coffee boy pulls a jacket on and leaves. Nobody has asked us to leave yet, or order something else, but they will. Then what? There's only so many things you can do in the city for free.
'We can go to the art gallery,' Mum says. She's been thinking about it too. 'Would you like that?'
Will nods, but not enthusiastically. 'Maybe we could sneak in to a movie? They only check your ticket once. After that we could see two, or even three, and it would be warm in there.'
'But it would be stealing,' Mum says. 'Besides, how are we going to sneak in? The art gallery might have a video installation, which is almost like a movie. It might even be better than a movie – more meaningful.'
The look on Will's face makes me stifle a chuckle.
The mobile rings. I look at the screen before I answer. It's Declan.
'Talk quick, I only have one bar left,' I say.
'You were weird afterwards,' he says, starting in the middle of a sentence, like we always do. 'And I think it might have been what I said. I was joking, you know. It was a stupid joke, but I didn't know what to say, because it was all my dreams come true. You're my dream girl, Jenna-Belle, and some days I can't believe that you even want to talk to me – that's how perfect you are.'
I don't say anything.
'Are you there?'