Six Days before the Fire

‘You should never have given me your digits,’ Fran said. She’d had too much wine with Maz.

‘Sorry?’ The Captain was distracted. Several children were squawking in the background and someone was either playing the drums or shooting people.

‘My timing’s off. I’ll call tomorrow.’

‘Fran! No, no,’ he said, adding another three no’s as he removed himself from the noise. Fran heard a door close. He took a breath. ‘Sorry – bath time! Want some children?’

‘Um…’

‘Rosie had one photo, but it didn’t show anything, I was about to get back to you.’

‘So you can’t see more boxes?’

‘Can’t see any.’

‘That’s good.’

‘It is.’

A horse neighed in the paddock to Fran’s left.

‘Where are you?’ said The Captain.

‘Walking home from Maz’s.’

‘South two?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Can you do me a favour, check the gate’s padlocked? Oh, and the little girls keep asking when you’re gonna visit.’

Fran had reached the gate to the Ryan’s South 2 paddock, just one removed from the ostrich enclosure. ‘I forgot! The 122cheese.’ She could take it to his place tomorrow – no, that would be too eager. ‘So the gate’s closed, but the padlock’s not locked, the chain’s on the ground.’

‘You’re joking.’

‘No.’

‘I locked it an hour ago, wrapped the chain securely. I lock it every evening. For the last month, someone has been unlocking it.’

‘Who?’

‘Rosie’s been staking it out, says she’s seen her Uncle Martin.’

‘But,’ Fran had the chain in her hand. The paddock was still and silent – ‘Martin is dead.’

‘BOO!!’

The Captain had yelled so loudly that she dropped the phone. ‘Arsehole.’ She picked it up.

‘Are you free at all on Saturday? Forecast says it’s gonna be a scorcher and our groom developed second thoughts at his stag do in Bali. Do you want to hang out at the college pool? That’s where I’m gonna be with the kids – take a picnic?’

The college pool. Fran had vowed never to go there again. ‘If I can get the nurse, I’d love to,’ she said.

‘I’ve got three weddings between now and then. I’m starting to agree with you and Vonny.’

‘What?’

‘Weddings are sadder than funerals.’

‘What are you talking about? You had a happy marriage.’

‘She died!’

They both laughed.

‘See ya in the deep end, Francesca Collins.’

123Fran could see the disco lights from the end of the driveway. Dante had set them up in the living room. Linda Rondstadt’s ‘Blue Bayou’ was blaring. Dante and Gramps were stoned, sitting opposite each other, making very odd faces, and giggling like crazy.

‘Sit here, we’re finger and face dancing!’ Dante said.

Dante always had such fabulous ideas. ‘But you’ve got the wrong song.’ Fran changed the record to Daddy Cool’s ‘Eagle Rock’ and took a chair in the triangle. All three of them were very competitive. Dante had excellent movable eyebrows, Fran used her tongue and nostrils with great creativity and could do a mean ‘Eagle Rock’ with her finger and thumb. But it was Gramps who pulled out the winning move – at the climax too, he had built it well. Without touching, he wriggled his left ear in time with the music – I’m just crazy ’bout the way you move – then his left ear joined in – Doin’ the Eagle Rock.

The three of them were sore from laughing when the song ended.