Micky knelt on the floor in front of the beanbag and held out the bottle. She gently nudged Dexter’s mouth and squeezed a few drops of milk out.
Dexter ignored the milk. He didn’t even bother turning his head away: just let it run down his chin.
Ashley couldn’t help herself. A sob escaped her lips.
‘You’ve got a job to do here, Ash,’ Micky said, not taking her eyes off Dexter. ‘Koala mums and babies talk to each other in little grunts and squeaks. You and I are going to talk to Dexter like that, to try and get his attention and let him know there’s someone with him.’
Micky held the bottle steady and started making little grumbling, grunting noises. If she hadn’t been so upset, Ashley would have thought they sounded funny. She swallowed and tried to ignore the lump in her throat. She made an experimental grunt. It came out all wrong, but she tried again and the second one was better. Micky nodded.
They both murmured and grunted, but Dexter remained hunched over, ignoring them. Then Ashley had an idea. She’d heard him calling for food and for his mother several times, and she reckoned she had a good idea of what he sounded like.
‘Yip yip yip,’ she tried. It wasn’t quite right, but Micky raised an eyebrow and nodded.
Ashley tried again, and again. ‘Yip yip yip.’ By the fourth time, she thought she’d just about got it.
Her fingers were still buried in Dexter’s fur and she felt a slight ripple underneath them. He’d moved, just a little.
‘Keep going,’ Micky murmured, and added a grunt to the end.
‘Yip yip,’ Ashley called, putting as much love into it as she possibly could. Come on, Dexter, she thought.
He turned his head. Yip yip yip.
It was very soft, but it was definitely a call. Micky followed him with the bottle and squeezed another few drops of milk onto the outside of his mouth. For what felt like ages, nothing happened. Then Dexter opened his mouth and Micky slid the teat in.
Ashley felt Dexter’s muscles moving under her fingers. There was no milk dribbling out of his mouth. He was suckling at last.
‘Keep talking to him,’ Micky said.
Ashley kept up a soft stream of sound, murmurs, grunts and the occasional ‘yip’ while Dexter finished off the bottle of milk. When he was done, Micky put the teddy in front of him. This time Dexter clasped it with both arms.
Micky smiled at her and stood up. ‘I’m going back to bed, Ash. Why don’t you stay here with him for a while? He’ll move off you when he’s ready. You can have another snooze on the beanbag if you feel like it.’
Ashley nodded. She wasn’t planning on falling asleep now. After Micky had closed the door behind her, Ashley looked down at Dexter. He looked back at her, his brown eyes wide and alert. She couldn’t believe how different he looked already.
‘Feeling better?’ she asked.
He blinked as if replying to her. She scratched his back again and he narrowed his eyes and leaned closer in a way that clearly showed pleasure. He shifted under her fingers so that she was scratching a new spot and she couldn’t help smiling. It looked like Dexter had decided to stick around.
The world isn’t empty after all.
His belly is full and the warmth of it spreads through his whole body, from his stomach to the ends of his claws. It’s like life flowing back into him.
The creature talks to him and she’s not so terrifying. When she made noises, the milk came. Her lap is the wrong shape and too big, but it is cosy anyway. He burrows into her warmth and he feels her touch. It’s unfamiliar, but it comforts him, and for a while he closes his eyes and lets it seep through him. He remembers the way his mother warmed him when it was cold.
Then he remembers the gum leaves, up above his head. He wonders what they taste like. He lifts his head and scents the air. Yes, they’re still there.
He clambers off the creature, who doesn’t stir, and bounds across the floor. He reaches the tree and halts. He remembers that his mother always leapt into trees from the ground, catching the bark with her front claws and then bounding upwards.
He tries it, leaping high with his front claws outstretched. They catch in the bark and he hangs for a moment, trying to remember what to do. Then he draws his hind legs up and uses them to push himself into a jump.
It works. He does it again and again, and shortly he is at the fork of the tree. Two more bounds and he reaches the leaves. He settles himself into the fork next to them, swings out a claw, catches a handful and draws them to his mouth.
They taste so good that he closes his eyes as he chews. The smell of them fills the air and it is sharp and strong and familiar. It’s not one of his home trees, but the smell is right.
He reaches out a claw and swipes another spray of leaves.
Ashley woke up with a stiff neck and the sun in her eyes. She was still on the beanbag, she realised, and it was horribly uncomfortable.
‘Morning,’ Micky said, standing above her.
Ashley’s hand went at once to her lap, but there was only an empty blanket and a teddy bear there. Her eyes opened wide. ‘Dexter?’
Micky laughed. ‘He’s doing fine. Stuffing his face with leaves at the top of the tree. Look!’
Ashley looked in the direction Micky was pointing. She saw Dexter chewing happily. At the sound of their voices he was looking back down at them, and she could swear he had an inquiring look on his face, as if to say, ‘What?’
She pushed herself up off the beanbag and scratched her head. She felt like she needed another half a night’s sleep at least to catch up.
‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you!’ Micky said. ‘Come on. Breakfast. Then clean up Dexter’s room, change all the towels and blankets, put them on to wash, feed him if he’s hungry, and then out to collect leaf for him and Jemima. That’ll take us up to morning tea, I reckon.’
Ashley groaned, but then smiled. Dexter was OK. Better than OK. He looked healthy and bright and full of life. That was really all she’d wanted.
She gave him a good-morning ‘yip yip yip’ and thought she heard a little noise in reply, though it might have been the sound of him chewing.
‘I’ve made us some pancake batter,’ Micky said. ‘We’re going to need a big breakfast.’
Ashley followed her out to the kitchen, stretching her arms. Then she stopped. Her phone was lying in the middle of the kitchen bench.
‘I decided two things during the night,’ Micky said. ‘Firstly, you’ve earned your stripes in the last few days, and it’s time I stopped calling you “kid”. Secondly, that means you can decide how you use your phone while you’re here. So there it is.’
‘Thanks,’ Ashley said, picking it up.
‘Oh, and I stuck it on the charger last night, so it’s full of juice. Do you like your pancakes thick or thin?’
‘Thick,’ Ashley said. As the smell of the sizzling batter filled the kitchen, she wondered what to do with the phone. Did she really want to open Emma’s twelve messages?
Probably not. But she did have to know the meaning of the picture of Bella and Puppy. Perhaps it was just a snap that Emma had taken at the breeder’s place when they collected Bella.
She turned the phone on, drumming her fingers impatiently while it powered up and found the network. As soon as it was ready, she flicked through to the messages. She skipped the photo that she’d seen the previous night and went straight to the second message.
parents totally on board with plan. Puppy is with us!
And then:
keep it secret! keep it safe!
‘What day is it?’ Ashley asked Micky.
‘Monday,’ Micky answered, and flipped the first pancake expertly. ‘And the sun’s out.’
The next messages were all photos. Puppy and Bella on Emma’s bed. Puppy and Bella in the garden with Emma. Puppy and Bella asleep in a basket.
‘Something wrong?’ Micky asked.
Ashley felt a bit sick, in fact. She wondered what Micky would think of the whole situation. ‘I had this idea that my friend could pick up my puppy at the same time she picked up hers. She would keep them both until my dad gets a job.’
Micky slid the pancake onto a plate and pushed it over towards Ashley. ‘But your folks are in the dark, right?’
‘How did you know?’ Ashley asked.
Micky grinned. ‘Let’s just say there’s a bit of a theme here, Ash. You get an idea in your head and nothing is going to get in the way of it. Even if it means lying.’
‘But it all worked out well with Dexter!’ Ashley protested. ‘He probably would have died if I hadn’t done that.’
Micky poured in the batter for the next pancake. ‘You might be right. But it means you forced me into being a joey carer again, because you weren’t going to take no for an answer. Sounds like you’ve done the same thing with your mum and dad, forcing them to let you have the puppy you want. How do you think they’re going to feel?’
Suddenly Ashley didn’t feel so hungry. She sat in front of her plate and watched Micky flip the second pancake.
It was no good; she had to read the rest of the messages. She picked up the phone again. Five more pictures. The last message said:
we want to call him Billie until you pick a name. OK?
Micky slid the pancake onto her own plate and sat opposite her. ‘Eat up, Ash. You’ve still got a while to make some decisions. Sometimes these things work themselves out. And if not — well, the problem will still be waiting for you when you get home.’