Millie and the Night Heron (7 page)

In the middle of the room was this kind of forest of things hanging down—from fishing line, I guessed, because you could hardly see what was allowing them to hang in midair like that.

‘What are they?'

‘Read the title, darling,' Mum said.

‘Rev Head Chimes?'

‘They're all car bits. He got them from the automotive boys. Great, isn't it? You can walk through it, Millie, and they make noises.'

I walked through it and they did make noises, but not the noises I expected. I heard a car start up, really loudly, and that made me jump. Then something else went boom boom boom, just like those too-loud car stereos with too much bass, and a car burglar alarm went off, too.

Mum was watching, laughing her head off.

‘It's fantastic, isn't it?' she said. They work on
some kind of light-trigger thing – like automatic doors do. When you walk through it, the sensors pick up your movement and set off the sounds. It's hilarious. Come on, come to my office now and we can worry in there until it's time for people to arrive.'

When we got to her office, there was a big bunch of flowers at the door.

‘Oh my,' Mum said, picking them up. ‘Oh Millie, look, they're beautiful.'

They were those soft feathery flowers. I can't remember their name but their petals look exactly like some kind of feathers and they feel like them, too. They're Australian, and much artier than plain roses or chrysanthemums. I knew they'd come from
The Boyfriend
before Mum even read out the card.

‘Kate. Your night. Celebrate all the hard work.
With love, Tom.'

‘That's pretty nice of him,' I said grudgingly. I probably wouldn't have to get rid of him. Which was a good thing because I didn't know how you got rid of a boyfriend and Rachel and Helen's suggestions had been funny, wacky and sometimes downright dangerous.

When he turned up, he was nice. He had dark
hair and eyes and a way of looking at Mum that made me feel both really proud of her and as though I was eavesdropping on him looking at her, if you know what I mean.

‘You're Millie,' he said, and stuck out his hand for me to shake. That made me feel kind of awkward, because I'm a bit left/right dyslexic and I didn't have my watch on, so for a minute I dithered about which hand I should use. ‘You look like Kate.'

‘I look like Patrick, too,' I told him. ‘I've got Patrick's hair, which is good when it rains because Mum's goes all frizzy at the slightest hint of wet weather, but bad otherwise because curly hair is cool.'

‘Right,' he said and looked around the exhibition for help.

‘Have you walked through the installation?' I asked him.

‘No. Shall we do that together while your mum is swanning around?'

‘Okay, but put your fingers in your ears.'

He didn't, of course. It's funny how grown-ups don't ever really take a kid's advice. The noise blasted out and he jumped and then grinned at me.

‘Should have had my fingers in my ears,' he said and right away I liked him.

I didn't spend all my time with Tom, of course. Mum's students were there and I met them and walked around some of the night with a couple of them. I was introduced to everyone and couldn't remember anyone's names, but that was okay because no one expected me to. Everyone asked me if I was going to be an artist like Mum, but I told them that she'd taken that slot in our family and I was going to have to choose something else.

I played with Susie's daughter, too. Susie was the coolest of Mum's students. She was dressed in tie-dyed leggings and a series of tie-dyed tops—seriously a series. The bottom one was that kind of mesh stuff and had long sleeves and was all dark purples. The next one was lighter purples and had three-quarter sleeves, still out of the same mesh. The next one had short sleeves and finally, over them all she wore an orange tie-dyed singlet. She had great shoes, too. I always look at shoes because of Mum's soul. Susie's shoes were orange. One of them had a bee painted on it and the other had a flower.

‘They're called “You're the Bee's Knees”,' she said, when she saw me looking at them. ‘I painted them myself. Do you like them?'

‘I love them,' I told her. ‘They are the best shoes in this whole room, and that includes my mum's and I thought she was the queen of shoes
until I saw yours.'

After the opening we went to a pizza place. My mother and her boyfriend held hands. When I went to the toilet, Mum followed me.

‘Would you mind if Tom came home with us tonight?' she asked, looking at me in the mirror's reflection.

‘No, that's what he's supposed to do, isn't he?'

‘Only if you're comfortable with the idea, Millie.'

‘I'll have to get used to it, if you're going to have a boyfriend, Mum,' I pointed out. ‘Just so long as he's nicer than Pig's ... I mean, Brendan.'

‘Oh Millie, what were you going to call him?'

‘Pig's Trotters,' I said. ‘Well, he's horrible. I think Mitchell should get rid of him.'

‘I think Sheri should get rid of him.' Mum sighed. ‘But she makes excuses for him: Brendan's so busy, so caring about other people, so dedicated to his job, so good with those kids. He's not great with Mitchell and it's hard to see where he's caring about her!'

‘So Tom'll be there when I wake up in the morning?'

‘Tom? Well, yes, I guess. Is that a problem?'

‘Only that breakfast is a kind of private thing.'

‘We could go out, maybe?' Mum offered. ‘Have breakfast at Evita's?'

‘Can we talk about it tomorrow?' I yawned. I was suddenly very tired and all I wanted to do was to get home and crawl into my own safe bed with Merlin at the top and Pavlov down the bottom.

‘Sure, we can do that, Millie. No breakfast decisions until the morning. Thanks for being a great daughter, though.'

‘Thanks for being a great mum,' I said and snuggled into her for a second. She smelt perfumey, like incense but better. ‘But you're not the shoe queen anymore. Did you see Susie's shoes?'

‘I did,' Mum said. ‘I'm thinking of asking her if she'll make me a pair. Will that reinstate me?'

‘Would she make me a pair, too?'

‘Maybe. But your feet are still growing, Millie, so you'd only have them a short time.'

‘I don't care,' I said. ‘It would be worth it.'

‘We'll see,' Mum said. ‘No promises, though. It depends on Susie.'

It was strange hearing Mum and Tom talking in the lounge room. I wasn't used to it. Pavlov growled a bit in her sleep. She wasn't used to it either. It felt a bit like it does before a storm—a change in the air.

invited me to go and watch his basketball game! I couldn't believe it. He just strolled across to where Helen-and-Sarah-and-Rachel and I were chucking the ball around and, in front of them, said, ‘Hey Millie, I didn't know you played basketball.'

‘I don't,' I said. ‘We're just mucking around.'

‘If you're interested, you should come along to the game on Saturday. We're playing against St Mick's.'

‘Are you asking her out?' Rachel asked.

My face felt hot.

‘Just to the game,'
said, ‘if she's interested.'

‘Sure, I'd like that,' I answered. My voice
sounded tight and squeaky.

‘I have to be at the basketball courts at ten o'clock on Saturday morning,' I told Mum as soon as I got home from school. ‘Our school is playing St Mick's.'

‘Since when have you wanted to go and watch basketball?' Mum asked. She was sorting through a pile of clothes on the bed.

‘Since this boy asked me to go and watch him play,' I said. ‘I can go, can't I? It's not a date or anything but I want to go.'

‘Well, you'll have to work it out with Tom,' Mum said. ‘I have to leave you with him this weekend.'

‘What?'

‘Some funding came through at the last minute. I'm sorry, Millie, we didn't think it would happen. The application went in late, then it got lost, then they found it and then they decided I should go.'

‘Go where?'

‘A conference in Canberra. It's a great opportunity. I simply can't knock it back, Millie. Tom said he wouldn't mind looking after you. Can you cope with that?'

‘I guess. So long as he takes me to the basketball game.'

I liked Tom even if he didn't do the stuff that everyone said boyfriends did. He hadn't bought
me a television for my room. He never gave me extra pocket money or bought lollies for me or slyly passed me a ten-dollar note to go and spend at the shopping centre so he and Mum could have time together.

He just kind of hung around. He took photos a lot. Which you'd expect, I suppose, as that was what he did. Sometimes he and Mum planned a day somewhere, like Lake Glenmaggie, taking photographs and painting, and Pavlov and I went with them, being sure to remember a book and lots of food because it could get kind of boring. Mum offered to buy me a sketchbook and charcoal or pastels, but she was our family's artist, not me.

Sometimes we went back to Tom's place and watched while he developed the photographs in his darkroom. That was really exciting. You put this blank paper in the developing tank and just watched while the picture slowly floated to the surface of the paper. It was like magic. Then I got to peg them up carefully on the little line that was strung at one end of the darkroom.

You couldn't go in the darkroom if the little red light was on because you might ruin all the photos. You had to knock then, to make sure that Tom wasn't in the middle of exposing them, when any extra light could mean disaster. He'd prefer his tea cold rather than risk losing photographs.

‘I'm sure he'll take you to the basketball game. I'll ask him for you, okay? Look, Millie, do you think that this top would be all right with those trousers? Because then I can just take that skirt which does go with that top.'

The phone rang before I could answer her.

‘Hello,' I said. ‘Millie here.'

‘Hello, darling, how are you?'

‘Patrick! Mum, it's Patrick! Yes, I'm fine, we're all fine ... You're what? ... Mum, Patrick's coming to Sydney!'

‘He's what?' Mum snatched the phone from me. ‘When are you in Sydney, Patrick?'

‘Give me the phone back, Mum! I was talking to him first.'

‘Hold on for a sec, can you? Millie, just give me some time, okay. Then you can talk to him again. Patrick, how long are you over for? Are we going to see you? Oh, what a shame. No, I'll be in Canberra. Millie? No, she's staying with ... just hold on.'

Mum took the phone in to her bedroom, giving me a warning look I couldn't misread. I had to wait my turn and I might as well be patient.

It was so unfair. Patrick was going to Sydney only – a science conference. Then he had to go straight back to England to start teaching again.

‘I can't help it,' he said, his voice all warm and
close on the phone. ‘They won't give me leave, Millie. I've a full teaching load. It'll be lucky if your mum can come to Sydney after her conference.'

‘When will
I
see you?'

‘I'll be back for Christmas this year, definitely. I couldn't go for two years in a row without seeing my Millie. Now, tell me, how are things? What is this Tom like?'

‘It's so unfair,' I said to Mum. ‘He's my father. He isn't even related to you but you get to see him and I don't.'

‘You can write him a long letter,' Mum said, ‘and I can give it to him—that is, if Tom can mind you the extra day.'

‘I can email him if I want to,' I pointed out, snappish.

‘Why don't we get Tom to take some photos of you and Pavlov and I'll take them up with me?'

‘Okay.' It didn't help that much but it was better than nothing, and Patrick had promised that this Christmas—which was ages away of course—he'd come back to Australia come hell or high water. That's exactly what he said: ‘come hell or high water'. I liked the sound of that.

Tom came around the next afternoon and took photos of us, and Mum too. He fussed around with lights and reflections and Mum fussed around
with make-up, scarves and even a hat.

‘It's not for Patrick,' she told Tom. ‘If I look okay in any of these and not like someone with early-onset dementia, I'll use them for the next show catalogue. If you don't mind.'

‘Of course I don't mind, Kate. I'd be flattered. And I'm really happy to take shots of Millie for her dad to see, and to mind her for the extra time. Honestly, I'm delighted to be able to do that. It's just ... I just feel ... I know you're good friends and that's important. It's just that I feel...'

‘It's okay.' Mum went up and gave him a hug, awkwardly because he had cameras dangling around his neck. ‘It's okay, Tom. We'll talk later.'

Why do adults do that? I wasn't stupid. I knew that Tom didn't want to think about Mum meeting Patrick in Sydney, because they might fall into each other's arms again after all these years and discover they really truly loved each other. As if.

I wanted to tell him that Mum and Patrick weren't like that. As he took our photos he looked as if he was trying very hard not to be miserable. Mum did her best, but she was too excited about the conference and about seeing Patrick so she constantly put her foot in it.

We went over to Tom's to have dinner so he could develop the photos in the dark room. Mum bought take-away pizza. I waited until Tom was
ready to do the developing and then asked if I could help.

‘Sure,' he said, ‘come on in. I can always use an assistant.'

While I jiggled photos around and peered through the enlarger and hung up the prints on the little clothes line, I told Tom about Patrick.

‘You know, you're
The Boyfriend,
' I said to Tom, ‘not Patrick. I mean, Mum does love him, of course. Because they are the best friends in the world. But it's that friends kind of love, not the smoochy kind.'

‘I know,' Tom said, in an unconvinced voice ‘It's fine. Honestly. And we'll have a good time together, I'm sure. We'll keep the fort for your mum.'

When we got home later, with ten beautiful black and white photographs that made both Mum and me look like long-ago movie stars, I said to Mum, ‘He's nice, Tom, even if he is
The Boyfriend.
I like him, you know.'

‘Mmm,' Mum said. ‘So do I, Millie.'

‘You'll ring him, won't you, when you're away?'

‘Well, of course I will.'

‘It's just that sometimes you forget, you know. Like that time you and Sheri went to Queenscliff and didn't ring May for three days?'

‘Oh Millie, that was different. Sheri and I were having a holiday. Or trying to. Honestly,
the way May carried on you would have thought I'd abandoned you. Three days, that's all. The nearest public phone wasn't working. I told her that.'

‘I didn't mean you to go over it all again,' I said. ‘It's just that I think you'll have to ring Tom, that's all.'

‘Tom's old enough to look after himself. You're the one I have to ring.' And Mum gave me a quick grin.

‘And Tom,' I insisted. ‘And take your mobile, Mum. I mean it. Don't forget
it
again either.'

Mum's mobile was the most immobile cell phone in the world. It often lived on the top of the bookshelf closest to the front door. It was there so she'd see it before she left the house. The trouble was, Mum was always leaving the house in a mad rush and the mobile stayed put.

‘I'll take my mobile. Of course, I'll take my mobile,' Mum said crossly. ‘Honestly, Millie, that's why people have them. I'm not stupid.'

Getting Mum packed and off was a major exercise. Without Sheri, Mum needed my help with her clothes. I wasn't the best person in the world to ask. But I was better than Tom, who said that everything looked terrific when even I could see that the brown skirt was shiny at the back and that her new impulse-buy trousers made her bum
look enormous.

‘Didn't you look in the mirror?' I asked her.

‘Of course I did, but I looked at the front, not the back. I didn't have time to look at the back. I don't think it can look that big, Millie. I think you're exaggerating. It's just my bottom, that's all. It's no bigger than ever it has been.'

‘Well, it looks huge in those trousers, but if you want to wear them, go ahead.'

I was worried enough about my own clothes. I had to go to Rowan's basketball game on Saturday and I had nothing to wear.

I had to start calling him Rowan, I decided, not just
I couldn't turn up on Saturday and call him by his initials. He would think that was very peculiar. I had some practice at school.