Girl Next Door - Alyssa Brugman [67]
'What are you talking about, you stupid man?' Mum shouts.
The ticket man shakes his head. 'I'm sorry, lady, there is no nine-twenty. There's one at twelve-ten. I can put you on that instead.'
'My husband is on that train! Don't you get it? We're in a hurry, you idiot!'
My mother is making a scene. Will and I stare at each other.
She goes on. 'It's quarter past already. You're making us miss it!'
A voice comes from behind us. It's Dad. 'Sue! I'm here. Sue!'
He has one of those tall, waxed cardboard cups with a domed plastic lid. He's standing there casually drinking from the straw.
Mum turns around. Her face goes white.
'It's my fault. I read the timetable wrong,' he says.
'Bastard!' Mum shoves him, and he has to take a step back to steady himself. 'How could you do that to me?'
Dad stares at her for a moment, then he offers her the cup. 'Slurpee?'
29
WOMBAT
CROSSING
The train pulls out of the station and we're on our way. I lean my forehead on the window and close my eyes. Alternate flashes of grey and vermilion cross my eyelids as the sunlight shines on my face through the trees. I turn the pinch pot over and over in my hand.
I know that I smell and my head's a bit fuzzy because I've had too much Slurpee, but I can put all those feelings of discomfort in a little box in my head and padlock it, because now we are going somewhere.
It's just overnight. We're coming back tomorrow to pack our stuff. We're not getting removalists this time. Dad said we have to hire a truck and do it ourselves.
I wonder if the caretaker's cottage at Wombat Crossing will have a flush toilet. The other cabins had lamps that you have to light with a match and a gas stove in the kitchen. I hope that if the shower is still a bucket, it's a bigger bucket than the one before. There won't be any television.
There used to be a common room where guests could play board games. It had a swap library system filled with dog-eared, trashy novels that I will enjoy. There was lots of sports equipment too.
Dad says my job will be to strip the beds and organise the linen service. Mum and I will mop and clean the bathrooms. Dad will split the wood and then take a big trailer around to the different cabins. Will can stand on the back and throw logs in piles near the fireplaces, and use the ride-on to mow around the cabins. Mum will do the accounts at night. Dad will take the bookings.
Dad says the owner is sending a National Parks and Wildlife officer to teach us how to catch snakes, herd goannas and safely move possums. Mum is going to hate that!
Dad said he'll stay in one of the empty cabins so we can have the caretaker's cottage, to be with Mum, except we haven't told the owner that. The owner thinks we are a normal family who live together.
I don't know how long we're going to stay at Wombat Crossing. I don't even know if I'm going to like it, but it's a good place to start again.
Maybe Declan could come and stay with us sometimes. He'll hate it, but if my mum can adjust then Declan can too. He'll get his licence soon. If he gets his own car then I can make him drive back home when he's annoying me.
Besides, I want to know what kind of a camper he is, because there's no way I am going to South America with him if he's going to complain the whole time.
Will gets up. 'I'm going for a walk.'
'Don't go far,' Mum says.
'I'll go with you,' Dad says.
We watch them lurch down the aisle as the train sways.
Mum runs her hand over the shoulder of my top. 'This is a good colour for you.'
'You said that already.'
'Well, it's still a good colour for you.'
We stare out the window.
After a while Mum nudges me with her elbow.
'What were you doing in the laundry that day, Jenna-Belle?' she asks quietly, under the hum of the engines.
'What do you think I was doing?'
She shakes her head. 'I've always wondered, but I thought it was private and I didn't want you to be embarrassed. Were you . . .?'
'Yes!' I blurt.
'And is it . . . effective? That way?'
'Not really,' I laugh.
As I look out the window I run my