It was early Saturday night and Lorraine walked over to Katie’s, because Katie had promised to come up with some ideas to promote LorRAINWEAR. It was so exciting. Her career in fashion design was about to take off. She knew it. Of course, she would always be involved with Mosquito Advertising, but that would be a sideline. Fashion was where her heart lay, and Katie understood that – or at least, Lorraine hoped she did.
Although Lorraine’s house was just next door, she walked along the street. It was getting dark, and to hop over the back fence as she would have during the day, put her in grave danger of landing on a cane toad. The weather was getting warmer and the toads were out again. Lorraine could hear their guttural croaking on the silky October air. October already! Katie’s birthday was only a couple of weeks away. She would give her a raincoat.
She trod carefully under the Moreton Bay fig tree that guarded Crisp’s front yard. She loved this house almost as much as Katie did. It was home to her. Coming down the front steps was Katie’s mum, and close behind her was Liam Parfitt.
‘Hi, Lorraine,’ said Vanessa.
‘Hi,’ she said. ‘You look nice. I love your top.’ It was soft with a green paisley pattern.
‘Thanks. I got it at Reheated.’
‘Good call.’ Reheated was Lorraine’s favourite shop. She loved it when people followed her lead. ‘Going somewhere nice?’
‘That new South American place at Indooroopilly. We won’t be late, but Katie’ll be glad you’re here.’
‘We’ve got some work to do.’
‘It’s Saturday night, Lorraine,’ said Liam. ‘You can have the night off from Parfizz.’
‘Oh, we’re not doing Parfizz tonight,’ she said. ‘We’re working on my new line of raincoats and boots, LorRAINWEAR. Didn’t Katie tell you about it?’
Vanessa shook her head. ‘No, but maybe she thought it was a secret.’
Lorraine was a little hurt. She never had secrets. How could Katie not have mentioned it? She was always talking with her own mum about what Katie was up to.
‘We’d better go.’ Liam put an arm around Vanessa’s waist. ‘We’re booked for 6.30 and they’ll give our table away. It’s pretty popular.’
‘Sure. See you later,’ said Lorraine. ‘Have a nice time.’
‘You too,’ said Vanessa. ‘There’s a packet of Tim Tams and some strawberries in the fridge.’
‘Thanks.’ Lorraine climbed the stairs, feeling less upbeat than she had five minutes ago.
‘What’s happening?’ Katie was sprawled on the sofa, watching television. There was an empty punnet on the floor.
‘Did you eat the lot already?’ Lorraine shook her head. ‘Remember when we scoffed a kilo of strawbs last year and we both got diarrhoea?’
‘Yeah, well, my digestive system’s matured since then,’ said Katie. ‘And besides, they were starting to go squashy and I didn’t want to waste them.’
‘They wouldn’t have got any squashier if you’d waited five minutes for me. Shove over.’ Katie drew her legs up and Lorraine plonked herself down on the sofa too. ‘So your mum and Liam looked very cosy. Do you think they’ll get married? I could design the dress.’
‘Don’t be dumb.’ Katie kept her eyes fixed on ‘Australia’s Funniest Home Videos’.
‘You’re right. She’ll probably want to get married in a normal dress – being a more mature bride and everything. My designs can be a bit out there. And now that I’m specialising in rainwear, I don’t want to confuse the market by doing bridal as well.’
Katie sat up straight and looked at her. ‘Lorraine, they’re not getting married. Mum and Liam are like brother and sister.’
‘Katie, brothers do not put their arms around sisters’ waists and take them to dinner on Saturday night. Get real! I think it’s lovely; so romantic. Mum’s sure they’ll get married within a year. I wonder if you and I will be bridesmaids.’
‘Lorraine, shut up.’ Katie tried to focus on a montage of toddlers bouncing off trampolines.
‘You’re right. We won’t be the bridesmaids. Of course she’ll choose Nancy. It’s more appropriate to choose your sister than your daughter.’
Katie tried to picture Nancy in a flouncy bridesmaid’s dress with flowers in her hair and a cigarette dangling from her lips. ‘Nancy would be the bridesmaid from hell.’
Lorraine laughed. ‘Your mum said there are Tim Tams. I hope you haven’t eaten them as well.’
Nothing got an evening back on track like a laugh and a chocolate biscuit, so Lorraine spread out the sketches of her new rainwear and Katie slid down onto the floor next to her.
‘There will be three designs to start with,’ Lorraine said. ‘You can wear the boots to match the coats if you like, or mix it up. That’s what I’d do.’
‘Mmm – but you’d also wear a different boot design on each foot.’
‘I would, yes. But I accept that others might not be as brave.’
Katie shrugged. She was used to Lorraine’s eccentricities.
‘So what sort of ads do you think we can do?’
‘Dunno,’ said Katie. ‘Who’s your market?’
‘Ah. Anyone who lives somewhere that it rains?’
‘Really? So you make raincoats for old men. Little kids. Guys like Joel? You need to narrow it down.’
‘Okay. How about LorRAINWEAR is for people who sometimes get rained on?’
‘Nah, too broad. Nancy gets rained on and she wouldn’t buy a fancy raincoat in a million years. Maybe LorRAINWEAR is for stylish women. Working women. Who? Think about your demographic.’
‘Well, I don’t know. I just want to sell raincoats and boots that aren’t boring to anyone who wants to buy them. If a ninety-year-old man who works in a bakery and goes paragliding on weekends wants to buy one, fantastic!’
Katie nibbled another Tim Tam and thought. Lorraine had a point. What did it matter who bought them as long as someone did? ‘Okay, let’s look at this from another angle. Let’s think about rain. It’s just water, but everyone hates getting it on them.’
‘True. Which is weird, when you think how much people love swimming.’
Katie was about to grab another Tim Tam when she snapped her fingers. ‘This is great! Fantastic!’
‘What? What’s fantastic?’ Lorraine sometimes struggled to keep up with Katie’s mind.
‘Don’t you see? People love LorRAINWEAR so much, they go out of their way to get wet. An old lady stands at the edge of a swimming pool, knowing some brat will push her in. A man stands in a gutter, waiting to get splashed on!’
Lorraine got it, and joined in the brainstorm. ‘A woman purposely bumps waiters at cafes hoping she gets drinks spilt on her!’
‘Yes!’ Katie was having fun. ‘How about a man jiggling a baby so it’ll throw up on him?’
‘One problem.’ Lorraine’s enthusiasm stalled. ‘I don’t make raincoats for men, remember?’
‘Let’s not worry about that. As you said, it doesn’t matter who buys them. Any dude in one of your designs would grab attention. Lorraine, these ads are going to be so cool. We just need a line. Mmm . . .’
‘What about, “With LorRAINWEAR, you’ll want to get wet”?’
‘Almost, but not snappy enough.’
‘“LorRAINWEAR makes getting wet look good”? “Make a splash with LorRAINWEAR”?’
‘Nah. Needs to be short and sharp. Give me a second.’
‘You can take a minute. I need to pee.’
When Lorraine came back, Katie held up a piece of paper. In thick black marker, she’d written, ‘LorRAINWEAR. Getting Wet Never Looked So Good.’
‘Great,’ said Lorraine. ‘I love it.’
They talked for a while about how they’d shoot the ads. Lorraine thought she could get Jasmine Jolley to record a little tune that sounded a bit like ‘Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on my Head’. Maybe her brothers could sing.
‘They’re away on tour,’ said Katie. ‘And, not wanting to be mean, but that’s a bit – cheesy.’
‘Fine. Go ahead and LorRAIN on my parade.’
‘Your jokes are getting worse,’ said Katie. ‘Let’s stop now.’ She flicked the remote.
‘What’s on?’ asked Lorraine.
‘Nothing. Same as every Saturday night.’
‘What are you, anyway? Amish? You should get cable.’ Lorraine fetched the handbag she’d left by the doorway and took out a bottle of nail polish. ‘If you had it, you wouldn’t be saying there’s nothing to watch.’
‘All cable means is that there’s more nothing to watch.’ Katie flicked the TV off. ‘And besides, there’s too much to do. For a start, I’m meeting the prime minister on Tuesday.’
‘What are you going to wear?’
‘No idea. I’m still working out what to say.’
‘I thought you had that sorted out – your Lettuce Levy.’
‘Yeah, but I think I need to back it up with something. The idea itself isn’t enough. I think we need to show her an ad.’
‘For what?’
‘Some kind of fruit, I suppose.’
‘But isn’t your whole thing about giving the fruit people lots of money to make ads? We haven’t got lots of money.’
‘No, but we’ve got good ideas. Normally agencies charge heaps for ideas; this time we need to give one away to make a point.’
‘Okay.’ The relaxed Sunday that Lorraine had planned was slipping away from her. ‘So what kind of fruit?’
‘What’s in season, I suppose.’ Katie looked at the green and red debris on the lounge room floor. ‘Strawberries?’
‘Strawberries are good.’ Lorraine wondered where the conversation was headed. ‘You want to do an ad for strawberries?’
‘Why not? I wonder who’s in charge of them?’
‘What – like a CEO of strawberries?’
‘You know, a marketing manager. Someone responsible for selling them. Like the Egg Corporation, or Meat and Livestock. The farmers must have someone who represents them.’
‘Oh, look, I don’t know!’ Lorraine threw up her hands. ‘My mind’s been on raincoats.’
‘I wonder what Clementine and the boys are up to.’
‘Clementine is probably hiding in her room. There’s some big do happening at her place. I saw the cars. And it’s October, so there’s no cricket or football on – the boys are probably doing a whole heap of nothing.’
‘Or playing Wii,’ said Katie.
‘Same thing.’
‘Let’s get them over.’ Katie started looking for the phone. It drove her nuts, the way her mum never put the handset back on the base.
‘Ah – except that Joel isn’t talking to us,’ said Lorraine.
‘True. But now we’re not talking about government policy – we’re making ads. He won’t be able to resist. You watch.’ Katie found the phone under a magazine on a side table. Typical. She added this to her mental list of her mum’s bad habits – Liam Parfitt should be warned. Vanessa Crisp was no prize.
‘Do you think Joel will help on the LorRAINWEAR ads, too?’ She didn’t want Katie to forget their earlier conversation.
‘For sure. Once he hears it involves pushing old people into pools, he’ll be all over it.’ But she rang Clementine first. ‘She’s on her way. You were right, it’s all happening at Clem’s place and it sounds awful. Her sister’s won some humanitarian award and they’re all expected to make speeches.’
Then she called Joel. Lorraine could tell by the softening of Katie’s voice that Dominic had answered. ‘Hey, it’s me. Lorraine and I’ve been talking. I think we need a fruit ad to show the prime minister – yeah – I’m thinking strawberries – good idea – no, don’t tell him anything, that’s the best plan – just say you’re coming over. Cool. See you in a minute. Great.’
She went to the front of the house and unlocked the lattice door. Within minutes, Clementine arrived. ‘Thanks.’ She grinned. ‘You saved my life.’
Then Dominic. ‘Hey, so we’re working on a Saturday night?’ He sounded rapt.
‘Yep,’ said Katie, ‘work to do. What can we say about strawberries?’
They headed out to the tree office. It always felt better to work there. Besides, Katie worried that her mum and Liam Parfitt might show up, holding hands or something.
‘Did you tell Joel we were meeting?’ Katie said, as she unlocked the tree office door.
‘Yeah,’ said Dominic. ‘He’s being really funny about this one. I think he’s worried about what his dad will say if we get involved in politics.’
‘Well.’ Katie turned on the lights. ‘I’m not interested in politics; I’m interested in ads. And Lorraine and I think the way to sell our Lettuce Levy is to do an ad for strawberries.’
‘Strawberries?’ Clementine laughed. ‘Why not lettuce, if that’s what the levy’s about?’
‘People like strawberries more than they like lettuce,’ said Katie. ‘I do, anyway. Lettuce is nothing but green water. We don’t want to make things harder than they have to be. It’s just that the name’s symbolic and easy to remember.’
‘Tuesday’s only three days away.’ Dominic was sitting on one of the long benches that lined the room. ‘That’s not a lot of time.’
‘I know, and that’s why we need Joel on board. We can’t make an ad without him.’
Joel was the one with the camera and he could edit and animate and turn scribbled ideas into real ads.
‘Well, he’ll come around,’ said Clementine hopefully. ‘What can we do in the meantime?’
‘What I want to know is, who’s the client?’ Lorraine waltzed across the floor. She was still feeling buzzy from her conversation with Katie. ‘You know, like I’m the client when it comes to LorRAINWEAR. I am the creator, owner, CEO, Design Director, Marketing Manager, everything! But who’s in charge of strawberries? We need to talk to that person.’
‘Lorraine’s right,’ said Dominic. ‘We need to make this authentic. We can’t take the prime minister an idea just because we think it’s awesome. We need an actual client.’
‘We have to go to the markets,’ said Clementine, ‘maybe to Rocklea. All the fruit and vegetable people are based there.’
Katie stared at her. ‘How do you know this kind of stuff?’
‘My Uncle Gary is an avocado grower. I used to spend weekends with his family when I was little and my own family couldn’t be bothered taking me wherever they were going.’ Clementine’s words were sad, but her voice wasn’t bitter.
‘Okay,’ said Katie, ‘I see a fact-finding mission to the Rocklea markets in our near future.’
‘But, Kato, it’s Sunday tomorrow.’ Dominic shook his head. ‘The place will be deserted.’
‘Not at night, it won’t be,’ said Clementine. ‘Sunday night the place is crazy, getting ready for the week. It’s the best time to go.’
‘And the worst time for me.’ Katie felt glum. Sneaking out would be almost impossible – her mum had started making a big deal of Sunday nights. It was their night to ‘spend time together’. Probably because she felt guilty about spending so much time with Liam Parfitt.
‘I can go,’ said Lorraine ‘My mother watches “Midsomer Murders” on Sunday nights. She gets so into it she wouldn’t notice if I was murdered.’
‘I can go too,’ said Clementine. ‘My parents are going to have their portrait painted. The university wants to hang a picture of them in the Great Hall.’
‘Seriously?’ Katie didn’t know anyone who’d had their portrait painted. ‘How come they didn’t ask you to do it?’
‘I offered, but they said the uni had commissioned a proper painter.’
‘Adults can be idiots, sometimes,’ said Katie. ‘But that’s good news for us. Dom, do you think you’d be able to get out?’
‘Probably. I’ll need to think how to do it, though. Auntie Elspeth is a bit uptight about studying on a Sunday night.’ He scratched his jaw. ‘But this might be a way to lure Joel out of his cave. You know how much he likes a night excursion. He won’t want to miss it.’
‘Exactly!’ Katie was excited. She’d work out something to tell her mum. One problem at a time.
‘So, how do we get to Rocklea?’ Lorraine wondered.
‘That’s what Google’s for.’ Katie switched on one of the Macs.
It was close to eleven when Lorraine yawned. ‘I have to go home. I’m tired.’
‘Me too.’ Clementine put down her pen and flexed her hand. She’d been drawing up billboard ideas for strawberries.
‘Cool,’ said Katie. ‘We can get together tomorrow. But the plan is we get the train to Sherwood at seven, then walk. It’s about two and a half kays. So no stupid shoes, Lorraine. Then we suss out the strawberry action.’
‘What do you mean, stupid shoes?’ Lorraine looked lovingly at her gumboots.
‘Just don’t wear anything that’ll make you fall over, give you blisters, or make you walk on tiptoe like a mutated Barbie doll. We need to get in and out as fast as we can.’
‘And we’re just going to talk to the strawberry growers, right?’ Dominic drummed his fingers on the bench. ‘Not make any ads?’
‘If we can get Joel to come and bring his camera, who knows what might happen?’ Katie tried to sound more confident than she was. The whole Rocklea thing felt a bit random, but it was better than sitting around doing nothing. ‘At least if we go there we can talk to some growers and ask them how hard it is for them to sell their stuff. I can talk to the prime minister about that.’
‘Do you think if I give you a coat and some boots in her size, Clara Whiting might wear them on TV sometime?’ said Lorraine. ‘It’s cold and rainy in Canberra. It’d be great publicity for LorRAINWEAR. “As worn by the prime minister of Australia”. How cool would that be?’
‘You never know,’ said Katie, not thinking about it. She was wondering how she could get Dominic to stay once Clementine and Lorraine had left. It seemed important to talk to him on his own. She wasn’t sure why.
‘Well, I’ll get my history assignment out of the way,’ said Clementine. ‘I’ll be over once that’s done.’
‘I’ve got assignments too – and a bit of LorRAINWEAR business to deal with, then I’ll be over in sensible shoes.’ She headed for the door.
‘I might hang around a bit and work out some sort of strategy for our strawberry campaign – if that’s okay?’ said Dominic. ‘Not for long, though.’
‘No worries,’ said Katie, hoping that Lorraine wouldn’t read anything into the smile in her voice. ‘I’ll see Clem and Lorraine off.’
She almost ran back to the tree office. Dominic was at a Mac, studying the screen.
‘So,’ said Katie, fishing for something to say, ‘what are we going to do about Joel?’ It was weird: she so badly wanted to chat to Dominic on his own, but now that they were together, Joel was all she could think to talk about.
‘Don’t know.’ He shrugged.
The silence seemed very loud and Katie was glad when a possum scuttled across the roof.
‘Katie!’ Her mum’s voice from the house startled them. ‘Are you out there?’
‘They’re back,’ Katie whispered, although it was obvious.
‘I’d better go.’ Dominic got up.
‘You don’t have to.’ She mouthed the words. With any luck, her mum hadn’t invited Liam in.
‘Are the others still with you? It’s probably time they went home.’
Katie could tell her mum wanted her to come inside; there was a funny tone in her voice.
‘She wants to talk to you. I’ll see you tomorrow,’ said Dominic. ‘I’ll nick down the side. I’m not scared of toads.’
‘Okay, see you tomorrow. Work on Joel, can you?’
‘Sure.’