There was an hour until school, so Sam helped Katie brush her hair into a ponytail while they watched cartoons together in the lounge room. On the screen, colourful bears shot rainbows out of their bellies, and Katie wiggled excitedly on her cushion. Dettie, meanwhile, fumed. She stood up from her armchair. She sat down. She rose again, looked out the window, then settled back into her seat. She lit a cigarette—something their mother never allowed in the house—and smoked it all the way down, ashing it in her empty teacup. She stared straight ahead, breathing heavily. Sharp, shallow, fast breaths. Sam watched her as he fixed Katie’s hair tie in place, remembering his own breathing attack at Tracey’s house, wondering what was going on in her mind. Dettie was nodding. She seemed to be working herself up to do something. She smoked a second cigarette. Then a third. Sitting and nodding. Finally she blinked, and the tight expression on her face went slack.
‘I’ve got to make a phone call,’ she said, raising herself up again. ‘You both wait here until I call you.’
‘Can I have a chocolate?’ Katie asked.
‘Just wait here!’ Dettie snapped. She stuffed her cigarettes into her handbag and stomped out into the hallway.
For a moment it was quiet—someone in Katie’s cartoon was learning a lesson about forgiveness or something—until Sam heard the thudding of the push-button phone being dialled.
‘Hello! Yes! Hello, Joanne!’ Dettie called out. ‘Now, Joanne, I want to talk about this morning. I was very upset.’ She was talking loudly, her voice carrying down the hall as she paced the length of the phone’s cord. ‘You wanted to talk too? Very good. I’m glad.’
Katie leant closer to the television, trying to hear over what, from Dettie, was almost shouting.
‘Oh, you called Donald, did you?’
Both Sam and Katie turned at the sound of their father’s name.
‘That’s wonderful news! I can’t wait to tell the children!’ Dettie leant into the room, holding the receiver away from her ear, to give them both a big wink. When she saw the children’s gaping expressions her face lit up with a smile. She disappeared back into the hall. ‘Yes, Joanne, that’s fabulous! I knew you two would work it out!’
Sam’s heart was beating fast. Katie was clutching her shoes and socks in front of her, motionless.
Their father?
Their mother and father had talked?
But they never talked.
‘Go now?!’ Dettie was saying. ‘Of course! How exciting! What a wonderful idea!’
Sam was tingling with sweat. He stood, but couldn’t bring himself to walk out to Dettie in the hallway. Instead, he watched her shadow shifting on the wall.
‘Yes, of course we can go now! All right. That sounds good. See you soon. Bye!’
She slapped the handset down with a clang. The tone of the bell inside the phone reverberated around them all.
‘Change of plans,’ Dettie said, returning to the room. ‘We’ve got to get moving. We’re going on a very exciting trip.’
She ushered them both into their bedrooms to get changed out of their school uniforms and stuff another set of clothes each into plastic bags. Their mother had just called their father, she explained. She’d gotten to work and phoned him up, and once the two of them had spoken for a little while, they realised what a big mistake they had made when they split up. They said right then and there that they wanted to be back together. They wanted the whole family back together. As soon as could possibly be.
So everyone was going to Perth.
That was what their mother had just told her. In all the excitement Dettie misspoke, saying that it was their mother who had phoned home, when, of course, Sam knew it was Dettie who had called her, but in any case, it was all being arranged.
‘Where’s Perth?’ Katie asked.
‘You’ll love it,’ Dettie said. ‘And we’ll be there in no time at all.’
Dettie, Katie and Sam were to leave immediately, in Dettie’s car, to get a head start. Their mother would stay behind to fix up a few things—the house, her job, bank accounts—and would be along in a day or two with the moving van.
‘Can’t we wait for Mummy?’
‘Oh, no, dear,’ Dettie said. Their mother would be far too busy getting everything done. If they stayed behind it would just delay everything, and their father was desperate to see them both again as soon as possible. He missed them terribly.
His father’s face flashed into Sam’s mind suddenly, more vivid than it had ever seemed to be. He was going to see him again? He wanted to be with them all? The photograph of him holding Katie, the tape recording of him and Sam singing ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb’, their mother’s wedding ring, which hung on a hook at the front of her jewellery box. It all merged together. Maybe he’d never really left. Not forever. Maybe it was just a strange pause while he went to get settled in Perth. That was probably why he hadn’t visited or called. He was too busy setting things up. Hoping they would join him.
He knew that Dettie spoke to his father—she said they often phoned each other. They must have been hoping for this the entire time. And now that his mother and father had made up, it was all going to happen. The question of Roger flashed, momentarily, into his mind, but was forgotten in the rush.
Sam barely noticed what he had gathered together—a T-shirt, a change of shorts, a spare vent and the cleaning supplies for his stoma.
‘Hurry, hurry, hurry!’ Dettie sped through the house clapping her hands. ‘We’ve got to get going! Fast as you can!’
They left the dishes, unwashed, in the sink, stepped over their schoolbags, still packed with books, in the hallway, hastily snatched some snacks from the cupboards, and in minutes they were in the car, snapping their seatbelts on as Dettie frantically searched the rear-vision mirrors, reversing down the driveway. With a quick stop at Dettie’s apartment to grab her chequebook and medications, and an even faster visit to the bank, where Sam and Katie waited in the car, they were soon passing through the thinned-out morning traffic, watching commuters in suits and dresses sing along to their radios. After two or three suburbs Sam stopped recognising places he knew, and started wondering, vaguely, if they would ever be back again.
When they turned onto the highway Dettie let out a loud sigh she had apparently been holding for some time. They settled into the overtaking lane and began passing long trucks with rattling mudflaps and cars with pokey caravans attached. The shape of the city faded away behind them. The posted signs began listing towns hundreds of kilometres away. Sun nuzzled on their necks and the road stretched west.