‘Behave,’ Dad says. And we all look at him. He reddens and leaves the room with Mum close behind him.
I lie down and close my eyes. I let myself imagine that I’m back home, in my own room. Taylor peers down at me. ‘I’ve been following Dad around,’ she says.
‘Hmm.’ I think about the lilac. If you change your mind. ‘You hit me. I’m not talking to you.’
‘I think it’s working. He’s getting pretty mad and I guess that means that I’m stopping him doing stuff, you know?’
‘My arm hurts.’
‘Hello? Are you even listening?’
‘What?’
‘God, Stella! This is important!’
When I don’t reply Taylor pinches me and storms out, muttering under her breath about how she has to do everything herself. My arm stings, but I don’t move from the bed. Not for a very long time.
***
We hear fighting outside in Fairyland that night. A voice so slurred and distant that we can’t make out the words. Not properly.
Taylor goes very still and then presses a pillow to her face.
I sit up. ‘They need more lights around this place. Have you noticed how dark it is? I think lights stop this sort of thing. People get worried about being seen or whatever.’ I push the blankets off my legs.
‘Stell, don’t.’
She reaches for me, but her eyes are covered, so I twist and stand up. ‘Stell,’ she says, but her voice is drowsy and I know she’ll soon slip back to sleep. ‘It’s nothing to do with us. Just leave it.’
‘No. Someone could need help.’
‘Just leave it!’ she hisses, but I’ve already got up from the bed. ‘Take your corkscrew!’ she yells after me.
I peer through the plastic window of the annex. The park looks peaceful. The cabins are dark. I step outside and the cicadas around the front of the annex go very quiet. It’s unusually cold for summer and I feel my skin rise up in goose bumps.
I wonder if my parents are asleep in their bunks, or if they’re awake and trying their hardest to ignore the sounds. Slipping on my thongs, I walk out onto the gravel road. Nobody stirs, but I can still hear the yelling.
Just as I start moving towards the noise, I feel a hand on my arm.
‘What on earth are you doing?’ my mum demands in a furious whisper. ‘Inside, now!’
I shrug her off and follow her back into the annex, where she zips the door up and safety pins it shut.
‘You know I don’t want you wandering around outside at night.’
‘I heard something.’
She sighs. ‘I heard it, too, but it’s not our business, Stell. It’s just not.’ She brushes my hair off my face. ‘We’ve got to just keep ourselves safe, okay? Wandering off at night like that’s dangerous.’
‘What if someone needs our help? What if someone’s hurt?’
‘It’s just yelling.’
‘Still.’
‘It’s not our business,’ she insists.
‘What if I was getting hurt?’
‘Stell . . .’
‘And everyone just stays inside and says it’s not their business?’
‘Alright. I’ll go see what it is.’
‘I’m coming.’
‘I don’t think—’
‘I’m coming!’
We go outside quietly and walk very close together up and down the gravel roads. The park is dark and quiet, the stars very bright in the sky. I can distantly hear the gurgling of the river, where it hits the rocks close to the bank.
‘It’s nothing, whatever it is.’
I frown.
‘Let’s go back to bed,’ Mum says, turning for home.
I look around, unsettled. As I do, a black dog appears, wags his tail and grins. I’ve seen him around Fairyland during my wanderings, although never this closely before. He follows me into the annex and I zip it closed behind him.
Mum doesn’t move and neither do I. I want to tell her about the letter and the dried lilac. If you change your mind. Only the words won’t come.
‘You okay?’ I ask.
‘Oh, just tired. One of my favourite residents died today.’
‘Oh, Mum. I’m sorry.’ She looks tiny, standing in the annex. I want to reach over and hug her, but I can’t quite make myself. Part of me is furious with her and I’m not entirely sure why. I label my feelings, like the books tell you to. Angry, frustrated, scared. Betrayed.
‘Good night,’ I say.
Mum starts to cry. Silent, heaving sobs that make my stomach curdle. ‘Mum?’ I say, trying to think what to do. Trying to remember what the books suggested when your mother bursts into tears in the middle of the night. I wish I had a pocket full of tissues. Or a hanky. Something to give her. Something concrete to do.
The bunkroom door opens and Dad’s there, then he’s hugging her the way I couldn’t quite bring myself to. She clings to him and sobs into his chest, and I think about my letter. Confused. Frightened. Furious. Isolated. Disjointed. Discombobulated.
The dog wags his tail. Dad’s always put his foot down when the rest of us wanted a dog. The dog jumps up onto the wicker couch, circles around twice and settles against the cushion with a sigh. The yelling starts up again outside.
I walk into the bedroom and shut the door. What if my biological father’s the sort of guy who starts fights? I mean, my dad’s got his flaws, but the idea of him yelling at any of us like that is something I can’t even imagine. I often feel sorry for myself, lamenting how insecure everything feels at home – how Dad steals our things and we’re always on high alert, making inventories of our possessions and obsessing about what might be missing. But I’m safe. I’ve always been safe. I’ve never had to run away from my parents.
I crawl into bed beside Taylor. Safe.
My phone buzzes with a message. Clem, who always seems to know when things are strained or difficult for me.
You ok, Price?
Yeah. I’m fine. Sleep well.
You too. And then there is a pause and another message comes through. Xo
I stare at the two letters. Clem doesn’t send me those sorts of things, ever. I guess he’s done it without thinking, perhaps mistaking me for his mum or mucking around. I put my phone away.
I lean over and retrieve the photo from where it’s poking out under Taylor’s pillow. Judy and Charlie. I wonder if the dress Mum’s wearing is something that she sewed herself, or something that her mother had sewed for her. Mum had sewed things for Taylor and me when we were young. Before she had to start in her second job. Before she stopped smiling as widely as she’s smiling in the photo.
I can still hear her sobbing in the next room, and Dad murmuring to her.
‘You’re freezing,’ Taylor mutters, frowning and half-asleep. She reaches over an arm and a leg and warms me up.
It’s a while before I get to sleep. And then I dream I’m awake, pacing around and around Fairyland with my breath caught tightly in my chest.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The next morning, I head out with the dog meandering around after me. Taylor seems to have Dad covered, so I’m going to start helping people at Fairyland. I find Richard re-potting basil plants in his lean-to. He smiles when he sees me and puts the pot down.