Chapter Eight

BEFORE LEAVING THE house, I opened my diary. Saturday, meeting Richard at noon outside the zoo shop. Excited. I smiled.

My shift at Taronga took longer than expected. Rats had invaded the feed bins at Friendship Farm, so they needed to be emptied, refilled and sealed. Boris, the goat, stood watching, his appetite showing in the roundness of his belly. I had my head in the bin when he nudged me. I let out a squeal and surfaced. ‘Don’t do that,’ I scolded and went back in headfirst. He nudged me again, so I figured that he was craving attention.

I stood up, dropped the food scoop, dusted the feed from my hair and wrapped my arms around his neck, bringing him closer to me. His ice-blue eyes closed with delight as I rubbed his ear. ‘You’re a sook,’ I told him, as he butted his head against my hip to encourage me to keep on rubbing.

Rick, the black Cochin rooster, came bursting out of the chicken pen. He was being chased by a white Cochin hen named Rachael. A dozen yellow chicks shot off in all directions.

I checked the time on my phone: fifteen minutes past noon. I was late! The phone flashed that the battery was low. I freaked because the rule on leaving the house was to be contactable at all times. I thumbed Richard a text:

Sorry, I’ve been held up. Coming now. Steph.

I pulled the gate shut and took off running.

When I arrived at the zoo shop, I couldn’t see Richard. I walked inside, searched the aisles and walked back out. I gave him ten minutes before heading off to the restaurant where Libby worked to find her outside, cleaning a table.

‘I thought you were meeting up with Richard?’ she said in her sulky voice.

‘So did I. He didn’t turn up, or if he did, I missed him. I was late, but I sent a text.’

Libby’s boss walked out. ‘Hurry,’ she snapped, ‘we have customers.’

Libby pointed her detergent bottle in the direction of a swarm of wasps attracted to the rubbish bin beside the table. ‘Do you want me to leave the crumbs for the wasps?’

‘Try speeding up,’ her boss added.

Libby squirted the table and started wiping. ‘Maybe he’s with the girl.’

I frowned. ‘You never give up.’

‘I’m just saying that it’s possible,’ said Libby, watching for her boss as she talked. She hooked the bottle in her apron and picked up a full tray. ‘I have to go. See you when I finish.’

‘Dad’s picking Mum up from the hospital. She might be resting.’

Mum was curled up asleep on the lounge when I walked in. Dad was in the kitchen. I bypassed them, ran up the stairs, put my phone on charge and headed for the shower.

I couldn’t help but be angry at Richard for standing me up.

After showering, I checked my phone. The screen was blank. I didn’t want to admit that Libby was right in thinking that Richard had a girlfriend. I was tossing up whether to send him a text or drop it.

Libby walked in and threw her bag on the bed. ‘What’s the goss? What did Richard have to say?’

‘I haven’t called him.’

‘I would, and I wouldn’t be holding back.’

‘You’re so intense.’

‘And you’re not. You all but drowned the boy who stood you up at the Year Ten formal with your milkshake at the mall. What was his name?’

‘Geoffrey Baker,’ I said, rolling my eyes. ‘But that was different, Geoff asked me, then took another girl.’

‘What makes Richard any different? He stood you up.’

My phone alerted me to a text. Richard’s name was on the screen. Libby went to glance over my shoulder so I walked away.

Sorry for not showing up. Mum invited family over, and I couldn’t escape.

A rush of blood went to my head. I thumbed him a reply.

It only takes a second to text. It’s called, manners.

My finger hovered over the send button.

‘Well,’ Libby teased, ‘what was his excuse?’

‘He said his parents had family over.’

‘Or he was with the girl.’

‘You’re obsessed.’

Libby pouted. ‘I am not, I’m only worried for you – there’s no need to be mean.’

I pressed send. ‘Let’s go.’

‘Where?’

‘The mall.’

‘You’re on.’

We were on the bus halfway to the mall when another text came through from Richard.

Libby glanced at my phone. ‘Persistent, isn’t he?’

Yes, it was rude. Let me make it up to you. Do you want to catch a movie?

‘What did he say?’ asked Libby.

‘He invited me to see a movie.’

‘And?’ groaned Libby.

‘Would you go?’

‘You know I would, but if he stuffs up this time, I’d be turning my attention back to Grant. A movie is a safe first date.’

‘Safe?’

‘The less that’s said, the more they want another date.’ ‘Is that true or did you make it up?’

‘I’m just repeating what Willow told me. We’re going to the beach tomorrow, making the most of the good weather before the summer ends. You never come to the beach anymore.’

I didn’t bother explaining that I chose not to go to the beach because it didn’t seem fair to go when Mum couldn’t. Unless you understood her affinity with the water, you wouldn’t get it.

Dad was in the kitchen burning something that smelt like wet socks. I went in search of Mum and found her in the lounge room. She glanced up from her book and waved me over. ‘Where are you off to?’

‘The Orpheum.’

‘What are you seeing?’

I knelt on the rug beside her chair. ‘I don’t know,’ I said, glancing up. ‘I didn’t ask.’

Mum raised her brow. ‘Who are you going with?’

‘Richard, the boy I had lunch with at school. I met him the first time you were in the ICU, the day his brother died,’ I said. The air left Mum’s body. ‘I’ve been seeing him for a bit, but only at school.’

‘Try not to focus on his grief – it’s kinder to help him move forward. Do you understand what I’m saying?’

‘Yeah, I do,’ I said, standing and gave her a kiss on the cheek. ‘Thanks, Mum.’

‘When do I get to meet him?’

‘It depends.’

‘Depends on what?’

‘If I decide to see him again.’

As the bus approached I spotted Richard through the window, standing at the edge of the footpath in front of the Orpheum Cinema with his hands in his pockets.

I made my way down the aisle and waited for the doors to open. Richard stepped aside and waited for me. ‘Hi,’ he said playfully touching my arm with his elbow.

‘Glad you could make it.’

‘Not turning up at the zoo was a one-off event,’ he assured me.

‘What are we watching?’

‘A remake of Tarzan.’ The thought of watching some dude dressed in a piece of cloth swinging between trees didn’t excite me. ‘I’m happy to do something else if you have a better idea?’ Richard offered.

‘Have you eaten?’

‘No.’

‘Are you up for a walk?’

‘Sounds good to me,’ he said.

We arrived at the zoo as the overnight visitors were placing their bags in the trailer behind the visitors’ train. I grabbed Richard by the shirt and steered him to the seat at the rear. When we sat, Richard’s long legs were close to touching his chin. ‘We can walk if you like,’ I suggested, and he managed a smile.

‘This is cool. I haven’t been on a train like this since I was a kid.’

The driver tooted the horn and Richard grinned with excitement. The train stopped short of a long row of tents perched on the side of the hill. We only had a short window of time while the guests were shown to their tents. ‘Hurry,’ I told him, scrambling off the train. We took off along the path to the orientation tent where they had tables set up with food.

I reached behind the bar for a small box, handed it to Richard, then he followed me to a large table covered with platters stacked with food. I drew his attention to the little bread rolls bulging with thick ham and lettuce. ‘Do you want a couple of these?’

‘Yeah, sure.’

‘One or two?’

‘Two.’

I placed three rolls in the box then went to the fridge, taking out two bottles of water. ‘Peach-flavoured or berry?’

‘Peach,’ he replied, glancing over his shoulder in the direction of voices. ‘Are you allowed to do this?’

‘No, but it’s fun,’ I told him, and we bolted out the side door and across the grass, stopping at a massive boulder that overlooked the city.

‘Wow,’ he said as he sat and I placed the box between us.

‘So, who was the girl?’ I asked, passing him a bottle of water.

His eyebrows snapped together. ‘Girl?’

‘When you were at the hospital, you had a girl with you … was she your girlfriend?’

He picked up the water, unscrewed the cap, threw back a mouthful and placed the bottle beside him. ‘Oh, that girl,’ he said. It sounded like a classic line, suggesting that Libby was right. ‘That was Michael’s girlfriend, Max.’

I hid my relief and handed Richard a roll. ‘Max must be cut up.’

‘Yep, she is.’

‘Sorry, but I had to ask. I don’t have the headspace for anything complicated.’

‘I don’t have a girlfriend, Steph, and if I did, we wouldn’t be sitting here. I don’t cheat … Great spot,’ he went on to say, changing the subject. He jumped when he heard a rustling sound in the bush.

‘Ring-ins,’ I told him.

‘What’s a ring-in?’ he asked, scanning the darkness of the surrounding bush.

‘They’re animals who choose to live in the zoo: wild turkeys, rabbits, foxes, all sorts of creatures.’

Richard’s eyes bulged. ‘But foxes bite.’

‘A fox wouldn’t stop to take you on – you’re too big.’ The small talk had given me the courage to ask how Michael died, but as I was going to speak, Richard leaned over the box to kiss me, catching me unprepared. I pulled away. ‘Do you like the big cats? I think they’re amazing.’

‘We’re not going in their cage, are we?’

I playfully slapped his arm. ‘No.’

‘You can’t blame me for asking,’ he sighed, and went back to eating.

Willow sat in the middle of my mattress with Libby, gawking at me. ‘I don’t believe that you didn’t kiss him,’ Willow remarked, screwing up her face.

‘It was awkward,’ I said.

‘That’s so lame,’ she shrieked, falling back on the mattress, kicking her feet. ‘I couldn’t go on a date and not kiss the boy.’

Libby let out a squeal. ‘I would have kissed him if it were me. Tell me that you mentioned the girl?’

‘Yeah, I did.’

Libby’s brown eyes widened. ‘Well?’

‘There is no girlfriend. It was his brother’s girlfriend.’

‘Oh, God, Steph, that’s terrible.’ sighed Libby.

‘It sucks,’ added Willow, sitting up. ‘Poor girl.’

When the phone rang Libby snatched it off the bed. She held it up, showing Richard’s name on the screen. She put it to her mouth and kissed it. I reached up and snatched it from her. Willow broke into uncontrollable laughter.

‘Hi Steph, it sounds like you’re having fun.’ I pursed my lips and gave Willow and Libby my shut-up stare. ‘I had a great night,’ he added.

‘So did I.’

‘Do you like jazz?’

‘Music?’

‘My friend, Paul Henderson, plays in a small brass band on a Saturday night at Lu Lu’s on the wharf at Manly – have you been there?’

‘No, I haven’t.’ I wasn’t into jazz. ‘It sounds –’

‘We can do something else if you like.’

‘No, I’d like that.’

‘It’s a date.’

‘A date,’ I said, pointing my finger at the phone.

Soon after Libby and Willow went home, Dad called from the bottom of the steps. ‘Steph, can you come, please.’

I stopped at the lounge room door, and Mum patted the cushion inviting me to sit beside her. Dad came in with a tray of hot chocolate and marshmallows, which made me think that we were celebrating something good.

I wrapped my hands around my mug, waiting.

Dad sat on the lounge opposite, and sat forward. ‘Dr Wong called with your mother’s test results.’ He paused.

‘And?’ I breathed.

‘Steph, the tests show that your mother’s condition is deteriorating,’ he said. ’Her only option is a heart transplant.’

My face went blank.

‘The success rates are high,’ added Mum. ‘The operation is big, but once it’s over, I’ll just need to take anti-rejection drugs. I can go back to work, garden, and snorkel – do the things that I love, the things that make us a family.’

I tried to be positive. ‘That’s great, but the thought of you having someone else’s heart is creepy.’

Dad frowned. ‘Stephanie, there are no other options.’

I bit my lip, knowing he was right. ‘I understand that.’

‘Do you need anything explained?’ asked Mum.

‘No, not yet,’ I said, getting up, placing the mug back on the tray. Then the doorbell rang. ‘I’ll get it.’

‘Steph,’ said Libby, peering over my shoulder toward the lounge room where she could hear Dad and Mum speaking. ‘I left my iPad, but I can come back later.’

‘No, your timing is perfect.’

‘Only Libby,’ I called to Mum and Dad.’

‘Thanks …’ said Libby.

Libby sat hugging her knees, listening. I moved my chair away from my easel and sat facing her. ‘Most mothers get a new car, but my mum gets a new heart.’

‘Your family has always been different, Steph.’

‘But why?’

‘I don’t know why,’ she said, shaking her head.