Tall Story - Candy Gourlay [9]
Dad was like a little boy with a new toy. He grabbed Mum’s hand and pulled her up to the front steps. She shrieked as he swung her easily into his arms like a doll.
‘Dad!’ I blushed. They were so rank. Worse than teenagers. I glanced around surreptitiously to see if any of the neighbours’ curtains were twitching.
‘Can’t a man carry his bride over the threshold of their new home?’ He beamed at Mum.
‘Oh, William,’ she giggled like an idiot.
I folded my arms across my chest and waited for them to stagger through the door or for Dad’s back to cave in, whichever came first.
‘Andi!’ Dad yelled over his shoulder. ‘What are you waiting for? Come on in.’
I went in.
I’d forgotten that the hallway was bigger than our old kitchen. The sitting room was practically a cathedral. Our sofa would totally disappear in it. The ceiling was quadruple Mum’s height!
Wow.
‘Come upstairs to the bedrooms!’ Mum said.
Dad and I followed her up.
‘This will be your bedroom, Andi.’ Mum threw open one door.
My room! I tried not to look too excited as I gazed into the cavernous space. I could paint it whatever colour I liked. I could put posters up on the walls. And I didn’t have to sleep on a trundle bed, covering my ears while Mum and Dad snored for England.
‘And if’ – Mum took a deep breath – ‘WHEN Bernardo comes, this will be his room.’ She turned the knob of the door opposite mine. It wouldn’t turn.
‘Let me try,’ Dad said. But he couldn’t open the door either. ‘It’s stuck. Don’t do anything; I’ll just go and get a screwdriver.’ He ran down the stairs.
‘Maybe we just have to push it,’ I said, leaning my shoulder on the door and pushing. The door swung open. ‘See!’
‘What was that sound?’ Mum said.
It was a gentle rumble like traffic approaching.
And then there was a thunderclap.
And then the ceiling fell down.
7
Bernardo
I knew, the moment I saw the envelope inside the mailbox.
I knew, even before I saw the logo.
I knew before I tore it open.
I had wished upon the wishing stone so I knew.
But still my hands shook as I read the letter and tears sprang to my eyes. I had waited for this moment my whole life. But alongside the joy, I felt a stab of fear.
‘What is it, Nardo? Is it from London?’ Uncle called from where he sat, a newspaper on his lap. He reached across and switched off the stereo just as Auntie’s favourite singer, Tom Jones, was about to belt out another chorus.
In the sudden silence, I held the letter out to him.
Uncle spotted the official logo at the top of the page. ‘Oh my God.’ He stood up and took the letter from me, holding it close to his nose as if the writing had suddenly become too small to read.
‘Why did you turn off the stereo?’ Auntie appeared at the kitchen door.
Uncle just looked at her, still holding the letter up to his face.
‘What? What is it?’ Auntie Sofia bustled over and read over Uncle’s shoulder. ‘OH MY GOD!’ She snatched it from Uncle and read it again, her mouth wide open.
It was from the British Home Office. Granting me permission to live in London.
Uncle and Auntie both looked so dumbfounded I could have laughed. But I felt dizzy, the booming of my heart filled my ears and the sweat on my back felt icy even though it was boiling hot.
‘Oh, darling, this is fantastic!’ Auntie hugged the letter and bounced with excitement, all her bumps jiggling like jelly.
‘London, here you come!’ Uncle grinned so wide his face seemed split in half. ‘At last!’
I smiled down at them, a warmth spreading swiftly from my tummy to the tuft of hair on the top of my head which always brushed against the ceiling. A walking feather duster, Auntie called me. ‘Look at those ceilings,’ she said. ‘No cobwebs in sight, thanks to our Nardo.’
My fingers closed around the wishing stone in my pocket. She wanted you to have it. It was her dying wish. I tried not to wonder why Gabriela would leave me the stone. I tried not to remember Mad Nena’s last words. Be careful what you wish for.
In my