When Mum comes home that night, she plonks herself down on the couch next to me. I’m watching The Simpsons, but it’s a repeat so I don’t mind her interrupting. At first it seems she has come in to talk about volunteering.
‘So, how was the Learning Network? Did you enjoy it?’
‘I did, actually.’ I have to admit it, even though I hate to let her know that she was right about it being good for me. But I don’t give her too much. She presses me for more, of course.
‘Well, tell me, what did you do?’
‘Oh, mainly I was just meant to talk to kids who need help with their English.’
‘Ah,’ she says, and by the look on her face I can tell her attention is drifting. I wonder then if this could be the right moment to bring up the audition. You have to pick the absolute optimum moment when asking for something that you know is going to be a very enormous ask. If you ask too early, it’s like opening the oven door on a cake and making it sag. I decide first to enthuse a bit about my new position in the world as a volunteer; puff up the moment with examples of me as her wonderful, deserving child.
‘I met this great little boy called Sali from Sudan in Africa. He has the most beautiful laugh. His dad is driving cabs here. Also, there’s this older boy who has no bottom teeth, because he comes from a tribe where all teenage boys have their teeth removed to prove they can bear pain and become a man. Now Eliza is trying to organise a dentist to replace them because here he feels self-conscious.’
‘Oh God, I can imagine.’
‘But guess who else I met?’ I take her foot and remove her shoe.
‘Who?’
‘The girl who Mr Abutula brought here with her mum and brother. We saw them arriving, remember? The night Kite left.’ I’m massaging her foot and she is closing her eyes slightly.
‘Oh yes, I remember. What was she like?’
‘Well I haven’t really spoken to her yet, but I will next time.’
‘So you’re going back again?’ She smiles as if I’m an angel. So I’m almost ready to land it on her.
‘Yep. I’m going back next week.’
Silence for a while.
‘Mum?’
‘Mmm.’
‘Kite asked me to go do an audition for the Flying Fruit Flies.’ There, I said it. It’s landed.
First she sighs (bad sign). I let go of her foot and she shifts a bit on the couch. She turns to face me.
‘Cedar, it’s wonderful he asked you. He and Ruben must have a lot of faith in your abilities. But you know we can’t move to Albury. I have my job here. Can’t you join a circus here, love? Or wait until you’re a bit older and clearer that circus is really what you want to do? You’re still so young.’ She pats my leg and sighs again.
I know she doesn’t like to disappoint me, and I experience a tiny second of understanding for her, but then I quickly move on to the more important issue of me. Why does everyone think I’m still too young to know what I want? Anyway, how can I know what I want until I try it out?
‘I’m not too young to know what I love doing the most.’ I look at her pleadingly, even though I know it’s useless. She looks back at me with a look so full of sympathy and sadness that again I almost feel bad for making her feel bad about making me feel bad.
‘How much do you think this is really about the circus and how much is it because you like Kite and you want to do what he’s doing?’
‘It’s about the circus.’ I’m looking at my hands, which are squirming on my lap. I’d hate anyone to think I’d do something just for the sake of a boy, and not because I wanted to do it myself. I’d even hate myself to think that, so I deny it out loud, straight away, and then I try very hard to believe it. My hands are still squirming. Mum says nothing. And then slowly it seems that we’re both watching The Simpsons again, though I’m not concentrating as I am trying very hard to banish that thought and I’m not sure I’m succeeding. Would I want to go to Albury if Kite wasn’t there? Yes or no? I try to think of something else. After a while Mum starts up again.
‘Cedar?’
‘Yes.’ I keep staring at the telly.
‘I know this might not be a good time, but there’s something I want to talk about with you.’
‘What?’ I’m grumpy now. Why doesn’t she choose her moments better, like I do? I always create the right time by giving foot massages. But she’s not reaching for my stiff old neglected foot.
‘It’s about all the secret stuff that’s been going on around here.’
‘Oh, that.’ I’m a bit more interested now, so I turn away from the telly.
‘It’s about Tirese.’
‘What about her?’
‘Well, she’s pregnant.’
‘Oh,’ I say. And then I say,‘Wow!’ and then I say, ‘But I didn’t even know she had a boyfriend.’
‘She doesn’t.’ Mum looks at me as if she’s working out whether I’m really old enough to understand this. I strike a serious pose, tilt my head to the side, just like Aunt Squeezy does when she’s considering. It seems to work. Mum explains.‘Well, she had one, obviously, while she was in India. She was studying yoga at some yoga centre, and she met a man there from Italy who became her boyfriend. He had to go back to Italy, and then she came here and discovered she was pregnant. So she wrote to him. He wrote back and told her that he had a wife and children already.’
‘And hadn’t he told her that before, while he was her boyfriend?’
‘No.’ Mum shakes her head disapprovingly.
‘So he’s a cad?’ I say, and she laughs.
‘Maybe – we don’t really know. We all make mistakes, especially with affairs of the heart. It’s easy to fall in love when you’re on holiday, even if you shouldn’t.’
‘Is Aunt Squeezy sad?’
‘Well, she’s been confused, but she’s decided to have the baby anyway, and that’s why I thought she could stay here with us, because it’s very hard to look after a baby on your own.’
‘Like you had to with us?’ I say. She nods and lowers her eyes.
‘Kind of like that.’ It always makes her sad when she thinks of our dad. But after a moment she looks up again and grabs my hand. ‘Anyway, Cedy, how do you feel about it? How do feel about Tirese living here while she has her baby? I mean, it’s okay with me as long as it’s okay with you and Barnaby.’
‘It’s fine by me. It’s great. You know me. I always want there to be a big family. I’d love there to be a baby here too. Does Barnaby know?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Really?’
I felt great. I grinned a big smug grin just because I knew something that Barnaby didn’t know. I was in on the secret and he wasn’t. For a moment I was so puffed up I almost forgot the life disaster that Mum had just inflicted upon me. But then I remembered it again and I decided to huff off over to Caramella’s, just so Mum knew it meant a lot to me. Maybe she’d even reconsider.