Katie was amazed that she didn’t feel anything when the real estate agent arrived the following night to discuss the sale of the house. She was becoming immune to change and what would have devastated her a year ago simply didn’t hurt anymore. It was like the scar on her left knee – where she’d fallen off her bike when she was eight. When she pinched it, the bumpy flesh was numb. She sat in the lounge room, watching TV and flipping through Delicious magazine. Without the pressure of Mosquito Advertising, there would be more time for cooking, and her mum and Liam had plans to remodel the kitchen at Moira Parfitt’s house. She wondered what sort of stove they would get. Possibly one with six burners and a teppanyaki plate. That might be fun. Even the thought of the Parfitt kids didn’t bother her. She would just ignore them.
‘What are you doing?’ said Nancy, sticking her head in the doorway.
‘Nothing.’
‘I can see that. But why?’
‘Because it’s easy. And it’s not like there’s much else to do.’
‘What do you mean? Parfitt’s is going to be shut down, your mother is in the kitchen talking about what pictures of this house to put on realestate.com.au’
‘I hope she puts a great one of the backyard as the main picture. That’s the best part of this house.’
Nancy stared at her. ‘What’s wrong with you? Are you sick? Have you seriously been bitten on the bum by a bat?’
‘No, I’ve just given up, and it feels okay. I haven’t felt this relaxed in a year. You should try it.’
‘What do you mean you’ve given up? You’d barely started.’
‘I don’t want to talk about it. It’s over.’
‘The problem is, you never made an ad. If you’d gone in with something more than words, things might have been different. No wonder that minister didn’t listen to you. Ideas don’t mean anything unless there are images. You needed to show, but instead you told. You made the mistake of going into a client presentation saying, “We’ve got a top idea and if you let us, we’ll make the ads.” That never works.’
‘Hey!’ Katie snapped. ‘You weren’t the one who was humiliated by a federal minister, were you? I did everything I could, but either our idea was a bad one or he didn’t want to hear it. Either way, the result is the same and I have officially retired.’
‘Well, I haven’t,’ said Nancy. ‘I’ll never give up. Or give in.’
‘You’ve never had the option of retiring.’ Katie turned the page of her magazine. ‘You usually get fired, don’t you?’
The following days passed calmly and Katie relaxed into the boredom. She went to school, did her homework and let the talk of weddings and house inspections swirl around her.
Oddly, though, Lorraine was busy. Whenever Katie called or dropped over, she was out. Her mum wasn’t sure where she was, but assumed at school, in the library.
‘I think she has exams soon,’ she said.
We all have exams, Katie thought, but it was weird that Lorraine was never home after school. The same for Joel, Dominic and Clementine. They were never around and she missed them. She grew tired of her own company and wondered if she had annoyed them off by shutting down Mosquito Advertising. That was hard to imagine. It hadn’t been a heap of fun since they got back from the States and none of them had ever been as into it as she had.
Katie’s fourteenth birthday fell on a Friday. She had told her mum she didn’t want a party, mainly because she felt no one would be that keen on coming. Also, fourteen was too old for parties. Still, she felt a bit empty as she lay under her sheet, listening to the cicadas. Summer was in full swing more than a month early.
Normally on her birthday, her mum woke her up with a cup of tea and her present. It was a little tradition they’d had in their family of two, so she waited, knowing that this was probably the last year it would happen. Next year there might be four kids jumping on her bed and a stepfather hovering in the doorway. She closed her eyes and tried not to think about that.
‘Katie! Katie! Come quickly!’ Her mum’s voice was a high-pitched mix of shock and excitement. ‘Nancy’s on TV! And Georgie!’
‘What?’ Katie kicked off her sheets and jumped out of bed in one motion.
‘They’re on “First Thing”, being interviewed by Rejani Reed.’ Her mother was breathless in the hallway.
Together they sat on the sofa.
‘Is that Nancy?’ Her mum blinked hard. ‘What’s this about?’
‘Shhhhh. Just listen.’
Her mum cranked up the volume.
‘This is a story no parent can afford to miss. Last week, five-year-old Brisbane girl, Georgie, had finished her play lunch at kindergarten. She stood up to take her lunch box back to her bag and slipped on a strawberry. It had been dropped by another child, but not promptly picked up by a staff member. Georgie suffered a bruised knee, but her aunt and carer, Nancy, fears that it could have been much worse. I’m talking to them now. Nancy, how is Georgie?’
Nancy’s back straightened. She kept her head perfectly still, as though her neat hair was a hat that might fall off. ‘Well, Rejani, we had the doctor look at Georgie’s knee, and there was indeed bruising and some swelling. She was lucky, it could just as easily have been a spinal injury. It makes me sick to think about it.’
‘Georgie?’ Rejani adopted that sugary voice people sometimes used with the very young and the very old.
‘Were you upset? Slipping on that strawberry must have given you a fright!’
‘Well, my knee hurt a bit, but –’
Nancy cut her off. ‘What I am calling for is a nationwide strawberry ban in all places where there may be vulnerable people. Schools, hospitals, shopping centres – anywhere with a shiny floor.’
‘So are you suggesting that strawberries only be consumed on carpeted surfaces?’ asked Rejani, clearly sensing she was onto a story that could go viral.
‘Or sand, grass or soil,’ said Nancy firmly. ‘I am serious about this potentially deadly problem threatening our children. Georgie here suffered an injury, but I am determined that others will not have to endure the same kind of pain. I have started a group called CCASS – Carers Concerned About Strawberry Slips. There is a Facebook page and an online petition. I am hoping that everyone with a conscience will share it.’
‘Are you concerned about risks from other fruit?’ Rejani probed. ‘Grapes, for example, will be in season soon. My mother once slipped on a grape and badly twisted her ankle.’
‘Yes, I realise grapes are a challenge. We’ll look at the entire issue on a fruit-by-fruit basis,’ said Nancy. Katie wondered how she kept a straight face.
‘You don’t think education could be a better option than a ban?’ said Rejani. ‘Asking people to dispose of uneaten fruits thoughtfully?’
‘That would be nice, in an ideal world. But you know as well as I do that people are inherently lazy and thoughtless. A ban is what will work. Anything less is asking for tragedy.’
‘Georgie, Nancy, thank you. You can visit the CCASS Facebook page and give your support to this battle against strawberries. An unlikely danger, but a danger nonetheless.’
Katie and her mum stared at each other.
‘What was that all about?’ said Katie in a hushed voice.
‘I think that was your auntie’s way of telling the prime minister that bans don’t work.’
‘She’s not subtle, is she?’
‘Never has been.’ Her mum kissed her on the cheek. ‘Happy birthday, love.’
‘Thanks, Mum.’
‘Your present is a bit boring this year.’ She got up, went to the hall table and brought back a package wrapped in red paper.
‘It’s great,’ Katie said as she unwrapped the digital camera she’d hoped for, long ago.
‘If there’s something else you’d rather have, let me know. It’s hard to think what to get you these days.’
‘You know what I’d really like, Mum? More than anything?’
Her mother looked worried.
‘It’s okay, I’m not going to ask you to keep the house.’
‘Really?’
‘No, not really, but I’ll get used to it. What I’d like is the day off school. Mostly we’re revising stuff and today’s double PE. Please?’
‘All right. I imagine you’ve got lots to do. But make sure you’re ready at six.’
‘Why? Is there a surprise party?’
‘Well, not anymore,’ said her mum. ‘Just be ready to go out.’