Secrets

In the afternoon,

I ride my bike

to visit Mum at her sister’s.

She’s sitting on the front verandah

still in her SeaPak uniform.

Parked in the driveway is the Magna.

I drop my bike on the footpath,

leap the fence

and hug her for a long time.

She leads me to sit on the step.

‘The car’s fixed.

I’ve packed it and I’m waiting for Trish

to thank her and say goodbye.’

She smiles.

‘I bought a lamb roast for tonight,’ she says.

She holds my hand;

on her fingernails,

a few faint red scratches of polish remain.

‘I heard about Manx,’ she says.

She clears her throat.

‘When your father and I were young,

he got into trouble

with a bloke from the city

who loaned him money for his first truck.’

Mum sighs.

‘It wasn’t very pleasant,

but I remember something

your grandpa said.’

She looks at me and attempts a smile.

‘Everyone has a secret

they don’t want the world to know.’

I think about Patrick and his dad.

Mum interrupts my thoughts.

‘Rich people have more secrets than most.’