Swimming on Dry Land Read Online Free

here,’ Dad said, resting one of his hands on my shoulder and giving it a squeeze.
    Uncle Eddie slapped Dad’s arm. ‘Come on, Mike. My treat.’
    Mum came back in for Georgie’s shoes. She could see what was happening. ‘Don’t spoil it for everyone,’ she said to Dad, not quite looking at him. That meant he was in trouble.
    Dad heaved a sigh out of his chest and slowly shrank, like a punctured balloon. His hand went limp on my shoulder. I took hold of it and kissed it and held on to his fingers.
    â€˜We’re going out for lunch. It’s booked. Let’s go. Come on, skunk.’ Uncle Eddie called me skunk sometimes. I didn’t really like it. He strode outside, and Mum and Georgie followed. I thought they were going to go without us, but Uncle Eddie marched back in and stood so close to Dad their noses nearly touched. ‘This isn’t fair, Mike,’ he said through his teeth. ‘Just get in the car.’
    Dad told me to go outside, and edged me towards the door, which Uncle Eddie closed behind me. I could still hear them talking though, as if they were trying to knock each other over with their voices. It was Dad’s voice that kept falling down. Eventually they both came out.
    Uncle Eddie said ‘Let’s cruise,’ as he caught the car keys Mum threw at him and slid into the driver’s seat. On the way to the restaurant, he told us about opal stones and how if you look at them for long enough, they turn into the sea. What he meant was, they look like the sea. The sea at Whitley Bay is grey, and in the winter it looks black. Most stones are grey or black anyway. I couldn’t see why Uncle Eddie thought opals were so special. Dad only spoke once, just as we went past the cinema. He said, ‘They’ve made this into a one-way street.’
    That restaurant wasn’t like the Berni Inn where we went for our birthdays. There were silver knives and forks, padded chairs, and a tablecloth which matched the napkins. Mum noticed that the napkins were the same colour as the carpet and the curtains. It was hard to decide what to eat. I ordered the third thing on the menu, which was basically fish and chips, only they’d written fillet of plaice with French fries . Georgie had the same. We all got green soup to start.
    The waiter was a tall skinny Frenchman who wore white gloves and a white apron and smiled a lot. He had the exact same smile as Uncle Eddie.
    â€˜What will we drink to?’ Uncle Eddie said, raising his glass of champagne.
    â€˜Australia?’ Mum said, looking at Dad with an upside-down grin. And then she chinked glasses with Uncle Eddie. Georgie held up her glass of orange juice and chinked too. Dad didn’t feel like chinking. Me neither.
    â€˜How’s the writing?’ Uncle Eddie asked, passing Dad some bread. ‘I think you’re in the wrong game. What you bringing in? Twenty, thirty grand?’
    â€˜Try halving it,’ Mum said into her napkin.
    Uncle Eddie carried on talking to Dad. ‘I’m not trying to tell my older brother what to do. But the property market in Oz is about to soar. All you need is a bit of savvy and a few contacts. I could set you up. Plus the fact that you’d love it out there.’ He took up his bread roll and ripped it in half as he turned to Mum. ‘Why don’t we all drive down to Whitley? Your folks wouldn’t mind a quick visit?’
    â€˜They’d be delighted,’ Mum said. Her cheeks were pink from the champagne.
    â€˜It’s too long a drive for Georgie,’ Dad said, laying his spoon down next to his bowl and wiping his mouth on the fancy napkin. ‘Can you pass me another roll, please?’
    Mum looked from Uncle Eddie to Dad and said, ‘We don’t all have to go.’
    â€˜If you like,’ Dad said flatly. He filled up Uncle Eddie’s glass. The bubbles nearly spilt over.
    â€˜Come to London with me?’ Uncle