Still Waving Read Online Free Page B

being angry with Aunt Jean? After all what’s she ever done wrong to me?
    â€˜What’s her name?’
    â€˜Kate.’
    â€˜Does she live around here?’
    â€˜No, up the coast. She’s staying with her sister over there.’ I pointed at the apartment block.
    â€˜Whoa. Very nice. Very expensive.’
    â€˜Her sister works for some politician. She’s his personal assistant or something.’
    â€˜Very stressful job, I’d imagine.’
    â€˜Kate reckons her sister works eight days a week.’
    â€˜You’ll have to invite Kate over.’
    â€˜I told her I’d ring her if the waves got up.’
    â€˜There’s a postcard from Toby, did you see it?’
    â€˜Yeah, I read it before I went out.’
    I was surprised that I got a lump in my throat. I missed my brother. It was the first time I realised it. When he was here he’d driven me mad with his attitude. I was glad he went to stay with Uncle Wayne for the holidays. They were building a house and Uncle Wayne had bought some sheep. Toby said Uncle Wayne was doing it all really differently. I didn’t know what he meant. Toby also said he was glad he was away from the noise, smell and crowds, and that he’d hardly seen anyone. He didn’t go anywhere, just stayed on the farm. I worried about that a bit. I’d ask my friend Ruby and some of her brothers to go see him and take him for a swim at the waterhole.
    â€˜He sounds happy don’t you think?’
    â€˜He doesn’t like the city much, but yeah he sounds good. I hope he doesn’t get lonely.’
    â€˜Do you miss him?’
    â€˜Do you?’ I shot back.
    â€˜Yes and no,’ Aunt Jean laughed. ‘I’m glad he sounds happier than he has for a long time.’
    â€˜Yeah I sort of miss him, but I’m glad I don’t have to hassle with him every day. You know all that stuff about us conspiring against him because of being what he called femobats, whatever that meant.’
    â€˜I understand why he feels that sometimes, but it’s tiring trying to convince him that he has to take responsibility for his attitude and lack of cooperation. Whatever we try and do it’s in his best interests and I hope one day he’ll realise that.’ Aunt Jean sounded a bit edgy. ‘I’m glad he seems happier. It’s all you can wish.’
    For a moment I was taken back in time to when I’d heard my grandmother say those very same words. We clinked glasses.
    â€˜To femobats!’ I said and Aunt Jean laughed loudly.
    The afternoon was fading fast. I finished my drink and could taste smoke in my mouth and in my nostrils. We sat in comfortable silence, staring out to sea. I liked that with Aunt Jean. If we had a disagreement it wouldn’t go on and on, like it did with Mum. When it was over, it was truly over. I could sit comfortably without having to speak and Aunt Jean wouldn’t assume something was up.
    â€˜Kate drinks.’ I broke the silence. ‘I hate how you’re made to feel like a freak if you don’t want to get wasted. It’s stupid.’
    â€˜It must be hard. I suppose it makes you feel different, not one of the crowd.’
    I let Aunt Jean put her arm around me. ‘Yeah different, I’ll always be different won’t I? I’ll never be thesame as them. I’ll never really be one of the crowd.’
    â€˜Others have been through what you have and I imagine they feel the same way you do.’
    â€˜My counsellor told me last time that they were trying to get a group together, you know, other kids who have experienced familial murders, but I don’t know. If they’re anything like me, they won’t want to talk about it with anybody.’
    â€˜It would be a very quiet group.’ Aunt Jean was trying to raise the heavy cloud descending around us.
    â€˜Well I don’t want to talk about it ever again.’ I felt sad, that this probably