Aunty Katarina is tired. She’s emptied the slops, made the beds, and laid the tables for lunch. There are fresh flowers on the tables, picked early in the morning in the Company Gardens before anybody’s around. Paddy has had her walk and she’s done her number two. The washing is flapping on the line and the yard is swept.
“It’s time to sneak a smoke,” she mutters, but Grandma has other ideas.
“Katarina, I need you to go to the babbie shop in Long Street for the greens, and to the pet shop for meat for Paddy.”
Aunty Katarina puts on her hat and coat. “Colleen, why don’t you come with me?”
I look at Grandma.
“Off you go then,” she says.
As soon as Aunty Katarina closes the yard gate behind us she lights a filter tip. She only sucks on it twice and then puts it out, because it’s not lady-like to smoke in the street. The grown-ups say you could be mistaken for a lady of the night. We walk round the corner where the Spiritualist Church looms big, then past Timoney’s garage and the Long Street Baths, where my mother nearly drowned when she was seventeen. Our feet cross the worn doorway of the babbie shop. Aunty Katarina says our entire family has shuffled through the door and helped to wear the threshold down and when the babbie closes the door at night the wind whistles underneath.
The shop bell tinkles a welcome and the budgies chatter in their cages and the Polly screeches. The smell of rabbits, chicken mash and pee makes us wrinkle our noses.
“Mr Abrahams, can’t you teach your Polly something less nerve-shattering?”
“Do you think I can sit with a parrot all day?”
“What’s eating him?” mutters Aunty Katarina, but she’s interrupted.
“Tim Birch, at your service.”
The man wipes his hands on his striped apron, and gives a salute. He has sad eyes, dark wavy hair and pale skin and he’s standing behind the chopping block with a cleaver in his thin white hand.
“Can I have a pound of liver for my dog, please?” Aunty Katarina blushes.
“What’s your dog’s name?”
“Paddy. She’s a water spaniel.”
“I’d love to meet her. I live in Victoria Mansions just across the street.”
“I walk her in the Company Gardens at six-thirty.”
“A romantic place!” He winks. “Shall I meet you under the statue of Cecil John Rhodes?”
“I’ll bring my niece.”
I think Aunty Katarina has forgotten about me, but she takes my hand and drags me out with her.
Back at home, she fidgets all afternoon, doesn’t sit down for a minute.
“It’s time. Come, Colleen … Come, Paddy.”
She doesn’t tell Grandma about Tim Birch and I know it’s because Grandma is very strict.
“It’s so warm and just look how bright the stars are! An evening made in heaven!” she says once we’re out of the gate and out of earshot.
In the Gardens, there are men and ladies lying together under the trees, their arms wound tightly around one another.
“Aunty Katarina, why do people lie on the grass under the cypress trees? It says don’t walk on the grass.”
“They’re in love and when you’re in love nothing matters.”
I don’t understand why I get a good smack if I so much as put my big toe on the grass, but grown-ups can lie there with their bodies covering a huge patch. When I’m big and in love I’m going to do the jitterbug and cartwheels all over the green grass in the Company Gardens.
We walk past the rose garden and the fish pond, Aunty Katarina all smiles and a bit breathless.
“There he is under the statue. He looks pale as the stone itself.”
As soon as he sees us, Tim Birch pats his thigh and Paddy bounds towards him. He drops to his knee and strokes her head.
“I’m sorry I’m still in my work clothes, but Mr Abrahams kept me late. I know I still smell of liver and lungs, but I’ve got a good heart.”
“It doesn’t matter,” smiles Aunty Katarina. “Paddy seems to like it!”
Mr Birch’s teeth are stained brown, but she doesn’t seem to notice. He stands up and offers her his arm. They stride down the avenue side by side and I run behind to keep up. I wonder if Aunty Katarina’s prince has come.
The year flies like the wind. Grandma measures us on the doorjamb the day Desiree and I arrive and every month after that. She stands with the ruler and the indelible pencil in her hands and patiently tells us: shoulders back, head up straight, tummy tucked in and no crooking on tippy toes. Grandma knows we are going to grow into tall, graceful young ladies and we must always remember to stand up straight, because deportment is important. I can see she is pleased with what she’s done for the nervous wrecks who arrived at her house.
We are going home for the school holidays. When Grandma helps us pack our clothes she holds our faces in her soft hands and kisses us on both cheeks. We hug her, silenced by the tears starting to show in her eyes. I wonder if this means we’re not coming back. We’ve learned to genuflect and to cross ourselves, but we never got as far as confession. It is the only way to absolution, but neither of us knows what that big word means so we ask Gabriel.
“You’ve already been through hellfire and brimstone anyway, so you don’t have to be scared.”
Colleen has shown great interest in her schoolwork.
Her progress this term has been very satisfactory.
Other school activities: Elocution, improving. Must work hard.
New term begins 22nd January.