Volcano Street Read Online Free Page B

the inner steel with which she ran a hardware emporium comparable to any in Collins Street, Pall Mall or the Chomps-a-bloody-Lee-saze. ‘If there’s one thing makes me blood run cold, it’s to hear a kiddie parroting propaganda.’
    Skip’s face burned; she might have replied, but her sister’s grip remained tight and she sank back into her chair.
    Auntie Noreen polished off the last vanilla slice, dusted her little hands together, and levered herself to her feet. Her severity was gone at once. ‘Yous girls have had a long day. I reckon it’s time I showed yous your rooms. Dinner in an hour.’ She added, with a laugh, ‘If I can shift that bugger Campbell from me kitchen.’
    ‘School day tomorrow, isn’t it?’ said Marlo.
    ‘That’s right, love.’ Auntie Noreen draped an arm around Skip. ‘This one can get the school bus. Get to know the other kiddies, eh? Your sister can ride with Doug.’
    ‘I’ll take the bus too,’ said Marlo.
    ‘Eh?’ said Auntie Noreen. ‘Nah, can’t do that.’
    ‘But why should Uncle Doug take only me to school?’
    ‘School! Love, didn’t they tell you? I know these social workers are slack, but I reckoned they’d have told you. Did you think I could have two useless girls on me hands? Said I’d take yous on one condition, didn’t I? Helen goes to the high – has to, she’s a kiddie. But the big one? She’s past leaving age, and we need a new girl in the office at Puce Hardware.’ The little mouth twisted into a smile. ‘Marlene, you’ll be marvellous.’
    ‘You can’t mean this.’ Gasping, Marlo blundered from the room. A voice – Sandy Campbell’s? – cackled as she ran past, and then from deeper in the house a door slammed, loud enough to shake plaster from the walls.
    Wide-eyed, Skip stared at Auntie Noreen, who smiled calmly back as if unaware that she was destroying Marlo’s whole future.

 
    Chapter Two
    ‘Cattus cattus?’
    Skip’s voice was low. Carefully she made her way across the floor. The room was dark, but in the light from the passage she saw that Marlo still lay, fully clothed, on the bed. The leather-look suitcase, the shopping basket, and Olly Olivetti in his zippered case hunkered undisturbed beside the musty wardrobe.
    Twice before Skip had scudded this way: once at Auntie Noreen’s insistence, when dinner was on the table; and once in defiance of her aunt, who said that if Miss High-and-Mighty (just like her mother!) wanted to be silly, she could stew in her own juices. Both times Marlo had stared at the ceiling and demanded to be left alone. Now Skip had been told to go to bed, but she couldn’t, not like this.
    In the kitchen, the grown-ups still sat at the table. Sandy Campbell’s voice boomed, anecdote after anecdote, joke after joke, punctuated by Auntie Noreen’s delighted cackles.
    ‘Dinner was nice,’ Skip tried. ‘Apple pie and ice cream for dessert.’
    ‘I suppose Auntie Noreen ate mine.’ Marlo drew herself up. She wrapped her arms around her knees and turned towards her sister. In the slant of light her face gleamed blankly, bright against thedark-papered wall. Her eyes were clear: she hadn’t been crying. No, Skip thought proudly, Marlo wouldn’t cry.
    ‘She can’t mean it, can she? You’ve got to go to school.’
    ‘She means it. Damn this place!’
    ‘Good old Marlo! This is more like it.’ Excitedly Skip paced the floor, remembering plans and schemes they used to make, long ago, as they lay in bed in their room above the garage. ‘They can’t keep us prisoners, can they? We’ll escape. We’ll run away.’
    ‘How? We’ve no money.’
    ‘Hitch. Ride in trucks, up front with the driver. I’ll play the mouth organ. I’ll tie up my hair in a dirty red bandanna. Oh, Marlo, it’ll be the adventure of a lifetime. We’ll end up in Sydney – Kings Cross.’
    Caper had told them about Kings Cross, where he lived when he first arrived in Sydney, a drifter up to no good. Skip imagined a shabby flat on