Brad, Mum and I clambered out of Brad’s car onto the wide, but nevertheless vehicle-choked, street. The distant rumble of thunder was barely audible over the closer wails of a pop diva letting loose on a stereo that had to be too loud for the neighbours’ comfort. I hope for Olivia’s sake that it doesn’t rain. I narrowed my eyes at the looming clouds on the southern horizon, hugging the leather jacket I’d borrowed—okay, acquisitioned—from Brad around me.
Mum shifted her bag on her shoulder, looking towards the giant, glass-and-concrete monstrosity that had been her brother’s house. After Uncle Ian and his wife bought it a few years ago, she’d visited a handful of times—mostly on Christmas Day when he collected her from the home. But she still examined it with a wrinkled nose.
“I know, right?” I kept my tone light to hide my vague sense of anxiety. This would be the first time I’d seen Lacey since Uncle Ian’s wake, when she’d effectively disowned me. This party could get super awkward. “It’s very … beige.”
“I don’t mind it too much,” Brad said. “I mean, the bones are there. It has a good floorplan if you’re looking for a mansion, and the gardens are nice. I’d go for a brick finish though. Rendered concrete isn’t my thing.”
Mum looked between us, raising her eyebrows. “I don’t disagree,” she said, “but I was wondering what’s going on with that song.” We were closer now, and the music had a cheerful beat that set my feet to tapping. If Olivia was still pining after her ex-boyfriend, the upbeat music she’d chosen didn’t show it. “That girl’s voice is … weird.”
I began to laugh. It was a little mean, but I couldn’t help it. She sounded just like one of the old ladies from the nursing home where she’d spent most of the last twenty-odd years. “You’re showing your age, Mum.”
“What?” She frowned at me.
“It’s called auto-tune.” Brad gave me a reproachful look. “They use it on a lot of songs, to correct vocal imperfections or achieve different creative effects.”
“But … that’s cheating,” Mum spluttered.
“The kids and their music.” I giggled.
Mum swatted at me, and I danced backwards. “Stop it, you. I know I said we had TV in the nursing home, but choosing shows was a democratic process, and I was rather outnumbered by people who weren’t interested in watching Rage.”
“Okay, okay,” I said, swallowing my laughter. Like I was being punished by the universe, the giggles caught in my throat, turning into coughs. Brad patted me on the back while Mum lifted her chin and tried to look haughty. “Sorry,” I croaked.
“I forgive you.”
The house’s glass-paned double doors were open, and several teenagers sat at the top of the long flight of stairs, talking loudly. They weren’t much younger than me—two or three years at most. But I felt the difference keenly. It wasn’t so much the age gap, I realised as we stepped past them and into the entry hall. It was that Olivia’s friends were mostly children of privilege. Uncle Ian had sent his daughter and son to the best private schools in Canberra, and their friends either had rich parents or were the children of diplomats. Perhaps both. I’d wager none of them had ever lived in a tiny, shabby flat of the sort I’d shared with Jen, or that they ever would.
“Melaina!” a familiar voice called. I turned to see Justin standing in the open dining room, halogen downlights making his hair glow. Platters of fancy canapes covered the glass-topped table, although the guests gathered around it were still drinking from plastic cups. “Down here, quick.” He darted down a side corridor, speaking over his shoulder. “Hi, Aunt Davina. Brad.”
“Hi,” Mum said, sounding bemused as we followed my cousin to his room. The door was ajar, and covered in a huge sign printed in a Celtic-type script. It read, “No admittance, especially on party business”.
“Nice,” Brad said, nodding at the sign.
“I’m even more of a hermit than Bilbo,” Justin said, flashing Brad a grin. “I’m hiding out in here. You know, if you need to retreat at any point.”
“Retreat?” I asked.
“From Olivia and her lame-o friends?” The smile vanished, and his eyes no longer sparkled. “Or from Mum?”
“Ah.” I was unable to help the glance I threw over my shoulder. “Does she know we’re coming?”
“Yeah,” Justin said. “She checked the event on Facebook. Freaked when she saw how many people were coming, so she’s in a mood. And I think she’ll be even more moody when…” His glance slid from my face to Mum’s before jerking back to me.
“Oh goody.”
“Yeah.” Justin slipped through his door. “Like I said. Retreat.”
“Gotcha. Thanks, Jat,” I said, grinding my teeth. It wasn’t my fault my grandfather’s inheritance had named me the executor of Mum’s trust fund in the event of Uncle Ian’s death. Mum, on the other hand, wasn’t quite as undeserving of Lacey’s wrath… In a way, Lacey is right in thinking Mum’s condition was self-inflicted. Mum only returned to normal when Ollie left. But it wasn’t a scam; it was love. Would my solicitor aunt regard love as a solid defence?
Shaking my head, I decided not to worry about it. “Let’s go find Olivia,” I said, slipping my hand into Brad’s. “If only so we can wish her happy birthday before her mother throws us out.”
“Surely she won’t,” Brad said as we walked down the corridor, past the closed door to Olivia’s room, and into the family room. The timber floor clunked under my boots, felt more than heard given how close we stood to the stereo. I stopped before a pair of laughing teenage girls with hair dyed bright colours: one was pink, and the other shaded from green at the roots to blue at the tips, colours that melded in an aqua band around her ears. It must have cost a fortune to maintain.
“Love the hair,” I said loudly, giving them a thumb’s up so they couldn’t misunderstand. They regarded the streak of blue in my fringe, their smiles growing brighter. I couldn’t tell if they were pleased to see a hair-dying kindred spirit, or laughing at me for the home dye job. I didn’t much care either way. One of the joys of finishing high school was that I no longer had to put up with that crap. “Where’s Olivia?”
“In the garden,” the pink-haired girl yelled.
“By the pool, I think?” the other one added, flicking her hair back from her face and smiling.
“Thanks,” I said, leading the way out the double doors and into the entertaining area. A shining, stainless steel barbeque and an outdoor setting occupied the porch area. Off-white pavers reflected yet more downlights, making the space glow despite the fading light of the setting sun. Tall hedges lined the space, lit by solar lights. It’s very pretty, I admitted to myself, though it’d be better with twenty or thirty less people.
“Over there.” Brad pointed to our right.
Sure enough, Olivia was near the pool. It was too cold to swim, and no one had braved the water yet. I wondered how long it would be until someone was pushed—or fell—in.
Olivia looked fabulous, her glossy brown hair caught in a complicated do that framed her face with loose ringlets. Her dress was slinky and a bright emerald green, cut low in front, gathered at the waist to flatter her curves, and flowing around her feet. I felt underdressed in my dark blue jeans and black satin tank top—especially as the latter was mostly hidden by Brad’s jacket. Still, everyone looked underdressed compared to Olivia. She was stunning.
“Melaina,” Olivia squealed. I blinked, surprised as she threw her arms around me, kissing the air next to my cheek. She wasn’t usually so affectionate with me, and I wondered how much she’d had to drink. Quite a few of her nearby friends bore clear plastic cups holding liquids ranging from an earthy spirit-brown to vivid blues and pinks that I doubted were soft drinks, but I couldn’t smell alcohol on her breath. “I’m so glad you came,” she said. “And hi, Aunt Davina. It’s so funny to see you outside that stinky old home.” Mum smiled back, although she was a little wide-eyed. Olivia turned her gaze to Brad. “Remind me, Melaina, who’s your handsome older man?”
“Brad.” I hooked an arm around his waist and pulled him closer. “Though he’s not that much older. Only seven years.”
“Seven years is way older.” Olivia rolled her eyes and then winked at us. “It’s totally hot.”
I smiled, glad she seemed to be over the heartbreak of her relationship with Sam ending. Either she’d decided she didn’t care, she’d already found a new boyfriend, or her and Sam had gotten back together. I hoped it was the first option. I’d done rebound relationships before. They sucked.
“We all pitched in to buy you this.” Mum reached into her bag, pulling out a small jewellery box tied with a blue ribbon. I’d found one that didn’t have Serenity’s store logo on it, even though we’d bought the piece at the shop. I didn’t want to be that blatant about the fact we’d used a staff discount
“Oh, you shouldn’t have,” Olivia said politely, untying the ribbon.
When she lifted the silver ring from its cushion, an expression of genuine delight transformed her face until it seemed to glow, her eyes widening and her lips parting in a gasp. Serenity hadn’t had much in the way of jewellery a mainstream girl like my cousin would appreciate, but the ring, with its delicate silver butterfly wings set with cubic zirconias, was elegant and feminine without being too new-age spiritual. I held my breath as Olivia slid the ring on—Justin had been my partner in crime in getting her ring size, but I was still nervous. Thankfully, it fit perfectly, the butterfly wings spreading out along the band where it arced across the top of her finger, like they were hugging her.
“Oh, it’s wonderful,” Olivia said, her voice barely above a whisper. I realised with shock that the glitter in her eyes wasn’t just from the reflected lights. “So perfect. Thank you.” She sniffled.
“They aren’t real diamonds,” I blurted, flustered by the strength of her reaction. I usually gave her art supplies; she’d never reacted like this to those.
“I don’t care. It’s still lovely.” She lowered her voice. “The best present I’ve received all day. And, given Mum gave me this, you should know how much I love it.” Her finger brushed a yellow-gold pendant hanging at her throat, glittering red and white with stones I was sure were rubies and diamonds. Wow. “It doesn’t even go with my dress,” Olivia added, feigning a pout. At least, I assumed she was feigning. “She knew I was wearing green.”
“Ah, well.” Mum patted Olivia on the shoulder. “Perhaps she bought the necklace before you decided what dress to wear?”
“Maybe.” Olivia held her hand up to regard the ring. “This doesn’t match my pendant. Maybe I should take it off?”
I thought she meant the ring and was stunned when she reached back to unclasp the expensive necklace. But Mum moved to stop Olivia’s hand. “Leave it,” she said gently. “Your mother would be upset if you took it off. Besides, it’s your party. You can clash if you want to.”
Olivia exploded into peals of laughter, kissing Mum on the cheek before dancing away, hand extended so she could admire her gift. She left a tiny smudge of lipstick behind, and I was suddenly grateful for the air kiss I’d received.
“I wonder where your aunt is?” Brad craned his head to scan the crowd.
“In the kitchen, maybe?” Mum suggested. “Or she might have gone out to get away from the noise and crowds.”
“And leave the place defenceless?” I snorted. “Not likely.” Thunder grumbled as if to underline my words—although the sound was fainter than before, the storm cell moving away to the east.
After a moment, Brad nodded back the way we’d come. “She’s on the balcony. See?”
I narrowed my eyes against the glare of the lights, examining the balcony that overlooked the barbeque area. Its ubiquitous beige concrete managed to look foreboding in the shadow of the brightly lit courtyard below. And sure enough, leaning on the wall and regarding us with her face in shadow, was my cousins’ mother, Lacey.
Seeing us watching her, she raised her hand and beckoned, a sharp gesture.
Or maybe the storm is upstairs.