and kept right on walking.
The library loomed before me. I should have thought of that earlier. Burying myself in a book was a far safer option than setting myself up for another ambush on the handball court. Iâd had enough blood sports for one day.
CHAPTER SIX
âHow was your first day, honey-bun?â
Iâd closed my book and tossed it onto the couch as soon as I heard her Hyundai Getz pull into the carport under the house. By the time sheâd clickety-clacked up the wooden internal steps, I had summoned my best hangdog expression and slumped back on the couch in the darkened lounge room.
She switched on the overhead fluoro, lighting up her blonde hair like a halo. I quickly dropped my eyes. Looking directly at my mother was dangerous. Like looking into a fire. She could dazzle you without even trying, and I wasnât in the mood to be dazzled.
âWhy on earth are you reading in the dark? We can afford electricity, you know, now that Iâve got this great new job and all.â
I tried to duck, but my timing was a bit off and the kiss landed on the end of my nose.
She was wearing shiny red platform heels â her good-luck shoes. Most women would get a nosebleed in heels that high. Not my mum; sheâd been in them for more than twelve hours straight and wasnât even limping. I had to hand it to her, she was shoe-fit.
âThought you were working for commission,â I said. As usual.
I avoided looking at her and kept my eyes fixed on her shoes. For someone so tiny, she had impressively muscled calves. Like a professional gymnast, or in her case, a professional stilt-walker. And good knees, Iâd give her that. No knobbly or wrinkly bits.
âOh, donât be such a grumpy-bum.â Her hand ruffled my hair as she swayed past. âDo you know what the commission is on a one-point-five-million-dollar apartment?â The ridiculous heels click-clacked into the kitchen.
I closed my eyes and hunkered deeper into the lumpy old couch that had covered more kilometres in the past twelve years than the average family station wagon. âThirty-eight thousand dollars?â
The refrigerator door fwoomped open. âOoh, you made pizza; thanks, hon. Make sure you take those leftovers for lunch tomorrow.â It whoomphed shut again. âThirty-eight thousand dollars â from just one sale. More than I could earn in a year working at that car dealership. Not that Iâm complaining, mind you, it got us the Getz.â
âMrrgghhh.â I muffled the groan in an old velvet cushion, kept handy for times like these. I didnât want to talk about my mumâs lack of career options. I knew, only too well, whose fault that was...
Hello, hereâs a little surprise for your eighteenth birthday. A baby! Great news if you donât mind kissing your life goodbye. Farewelling any chance of a university education. See ya later, bozo boyfriend, and bye-bye any hopes for a high-powered career. Hello life as we know it â trying to pay regular bills with irregular commissions while staying one skip ahead of the debt collectors.
I snatched the pillow off my face and sat bolt upright. âWait a minute, Our Lady of Perpetual Succour â itâs Catholic. Thatâs private, right? How are we paying for that?â
âDonât worry about it, hon. The principal said theyâll send out an account in a couple of weeksâ timeââ
âMum, why do you keep doing this? You know we donât have any money. I can go to the local state schoolââ
She emerged from the kitchen, waving my complaints away like she was shooing a fly. âItâs two buses or forty-five minutesâ walk. The Catholic school is forty-five seconds awayââ
âIâm not Catholic.â
âYou werenât Steiner or Lutheran either, and you fitted in perfectly well there.â
That was so wide of the mark, I didnât even bother