Girl Next Door - Alyssa Brugman [66]
'I'm here.'
'I can't believe you're going to be in a whole other country.' He sighs.
'What? I'm not going to another country.'
He laughs. 'Yeah, it's just like here except they talk funny. Do you think you'll get an accent?'
I frown. 'I don't think so!'
'I suppose you're on the train now.'
'Train?' He's lost me.
'Hey, maybe your dad could give me a job too? I could help in the kitchen. Does the place even have a kitchen?' He laughs. 'I didn't even know they had wombats in New Zealand!'
'What?'
He pauses, like he's talking to a slow child. 'Your dad. He told me yesterday all about how he applied for that job ages ago at the Wombat Hotel, or whatever it's called, and they only just rang him to say he could start right away. And then you said, "Yeah, I know. In New Zealand." But I didn't know they had wombats in New Zealand.'
I can feel all the blood draining from my face. 'Declan, I've got to go.'
My fingers are trembling when I dial the retrieve messages number, so I have to do it three times. I hold the phone up to my ear. Now that I'm sitting still – not travelling under the concrete overpasses – Dad's message is clear.
Jenna-Belle, this is your father. I spoke to Declan just now. I was hoping you would be here. I wanted to tell you that I got a job managing that place Wombat Crossing, I don't know if you remember it. You kids were happy there and I thought maybe you wouldn't mind coming to see me in school holidays if I moved there.
Suddenly, I have a pain in my throat, as if I've swallowed a tennis ball. It must show on my face because Mum says, 'What is it?'
I put my finger on my lips. 'Shh!'
Well, it's a bigger job than I realised. But I hoped . . . maybe we could all do it together. Your mother would have to do room cleaning, and some book work. You kids would have to pitch in answering phones, working in the tuckshop, and neither of you are going to like that, but I think we can make it work.
The tears are running down my face now.
It's probably best if we don't live together, given the circumstances, but there are two cabins side by side. I thought that might do us for the first little while. I have to give back the rental car this afternoon, so I'll be catching a train down there tomorrow morning at nine-twenty from Central. Maybe the three of you could meet me there. We could all travel down together and then we can talk about it in person. I made a mistake, sweetheart. Please forgive me.
Beep. End of messages. Press 1 to listen to this message again, press 2 to save. . .
I press 1 and hand the phone to Mum.
I watch Mum's face as she listens. Her face is red. She puts her hand over her mouth.
'I can't believe it,' she whispers.
'What is it?' Will yells. He leans in so he can hear too. His mouth is getting wider and wider. All of a sudden they stare at each other. Will grabs the phone out of Mum's hand and stares at the screen. 'Stupid thing's gone dead! What time is it?'
'It's after nine already!' I say.
We scramble out of our booth, pushing past customers on our way through the door. On the street the three of us run along the footpath. We have to skip and jump through the jostling pedestrians. At the traffic light Will hops up and down on the spot.
Two blocks down we can see the clock tower above Central Station. Ten past nine.
'We're never going to make it,' I moan.
We're lucky with the next lights. Will runs ahead on his long legs. Mum pants behind me.
'This is why you shouldn't smoke!' I say to her.
'I know, I know!' she puffs.
We run up the slope, past the tram. We're close to the entrance now. I tilt my head back, looking at the clock. Fourteen minutes past.
'We're not going to make it!' I gasp.
'Yes, we are!' Mum's got her second wind. She sprints past me up the hill and towards the front entrance. I lean forward and pelt after her. I haven't run so fast in years. I wonder when I stopped? My lungs are going to burst. It feels great!
Inside Mum races towards the ticket office. Out of breath she asks for one adult and two children for the nine-twenty southern train.
'There's