The Listmaker (15 page)

‘You already
know
?' I faltered. ‘
I
was supposed to tell you about that. Dad asked me to, when I rang him this morning. But I just didn't know
how
to …'

Aunty Nat got up from her knees and peeled off the gloves, flapping them about to get rid of loose dirt. When she turned around, I saw with relief that she didn't look upset at all. She was
annoyed
, which was much easier to cope with.

‘As far as I'm concerned, it wasn't even
your
job to tell me!' she snapped. ‘I'm cranky as a snake with your dad for being so offhand about the whole thing.
And
having the cheek to start blustering when he found out you hadn't passed on the message yet! Oh well, at least it means I can clear these urn thingummybobs out of the way. It was a pain trying to fit the key in the lock and not knock any of them over.'

‘Is he really mad with me? I
should
have told you. It's all my fault …'

‘Nonsense! Piriel could have easily let us know, anyway, before she left. I'm cheesed off with
both
of them, and I don't mind saying so. That phone was just about blistering by the time I finished with your dad, I can tell you!'

‘Did he ring here again?'

‘No, I was the one who put the call through, though it was just by chance. Lunchtime, while you were off gallivanting. All of a sudden I realised we didn't have a clue what to order in the way of drinks for the wedding, so I thought I'd better ring Brett and check. You know what a big song and dance he always makes about wine. So
that's
how I found out, and I can't help feeling as though I deserved a bit more consideration from him and Piriel. Never mind, lovie, there's no need for you to look frazzled. It's certainly not
you
I'm cross with. Except don't ever nick off anywhere again without telling me first, madam, particularly not round about meal times! The very idea …'

‘I'm sorry … about Sydney,' I said miserably.

Aunty Nat left off scolding and peered at me.

‘You made them a cake. And it's not going to be any use taking it up to them. I don't mean because it might get squashed, either. They won't even be around to
eat
it, they're just leaving straight after … straight after the registry office …'

Aunty Nat shooed me in through the front door with her rubber gloves.

‘Your beautiful cake! And the summerhouse, all painted and ready for –'

‘Doesn't matter,' she said evenly. ‘That summerhouse is for
us
, anyhow, when all's said and done. We wanted it looking nice. Besides, Dosh might want to use it for
her
wedding, though I bet you anything she'll trip on the steps or do something else just as daft. Come and eat your lunch, and I'll have a cup of tea, to keep you company.'

I stared blurrily down at the plate she set on the kitchen table. It held two baked potatoes stuffed with salmon in cheese sauce, and there was a salad to go with it. Aunty Nat had made me a special one, a kind of joke between us which dated back to preschool days. To coax me to eat salad then, she'd make a little person from a pear half, with punk carrot hair, lettuce-leaf skirt, and shoes cut from tomato quarters. Looking at it now somehow made me want to blub. I ate a celery sock and the beetroot handbag, then had to stop rather quickly and fumble for the tissues which were kept on the bench. The tissue-box cover, I noticed, was new. Aunty Nat had made it from scraps of the cloud curtain material. She'd stitched a double lace frill around the opening, and embroidered a little blue bird on one side. It wasn't, I thought tearfully, the sort of object you'd find in Piriel's kitchen. Half a dozen tissues later, I blew my nose and said, ‘They don't even
want
us there, you know.'

‘Well, I think we should give them the benefit of the doubt and show up for it,' Aunty Nat said. ‘Can I have my damp shoulder back now, dear, if you've finished with it? We won't travel up by plane, though, thanks very much. That passenger in the film did a pretty nifty job landing a big jet, but I wouldn't fancy having to rely on Dosho. We'll go by rail. I'll ring up later and get his secretary to book train seats and maybe a hotel reservation if we decide to stay overnight. I could easily manage all that myself, of course, but it will give her something to do instead of sitting there buffing away at her nails.'

‘They only want each other, nobody else,' I said, still aboard the train of my own thoughts. ‘I don't mean just the wedding, either … it's how things
are
. They'd honestly rather have that apartment all to themselves, too. I'd only be in their way if I moved in. It's just that they don't know how to come right out and say it.'

Aunty Nat refilled her cup, stirring in sugar with a little spoon she'd bought. It had a kookaburra on the top.

Her birthday and Christmas presents were going to be a cinch from now on, I thought absently. It would just be a matter of searching around for bird motif teaspoons, so she could end up with a whole appalling collection. The junkshops in Parchment Hills would always be a good place to look.

‘If I lived at Avian Cottage all the time …' I said.

‘Is that what you'd like to do, dear?'

‘Yes. That's what I'd like to do. Maybe I've got a nerve suggesting it, though. It's putting you on the spot.'

‘Rubbish! I've
never
gone along with that boarding-school idea, not when you could have had a perfectly good home with us all these years. I'd
love
to have you here. So would Dosh.'

She was beaming, I noticed, as though she might clap her hands at any minute.

‘If I lived here, I could go to the same school as Corrie Ryder,' I said. ‘She knows this short cut over the other side of the creek.'

‘As long as you don't both go larking around and getting your good school shoes wet.'

‘I could still go in to visit whenever they asked me. Piriel was going to buy a fold-out couch for the spare room at the apartment. I can sleep on that when I visit them both. It should work out okay, don't you think?'

‘I don't see why not,' Aunty Nat said. ‘Maybe when you start that acting course, you could stay overnight at the same time. Saturdays, wasn't it? Mind you, I've got more than a faint suspicion you're not exactly over the moon about that workshop business.'

‘Well, I don't see how I'll be able to fit it in, really. Not
every
Saturday. If I'm living out here, I'll want to be doing other things with Corrie on the weekends.'

‘Fair enough, but you'd better let them know pretty soon. Then the place can go to someone else and Piriel will get a refund. Goodness, all these things to arrange, so many loose ends to tie up …'

‘It's all right, Aunty Nat. You won't have to do any fighting this time.
I'll
ask him. About changing schools and living here with you and everything.'

‘Well, I'll be standing right there beside you when you tackle the asking,' Aunty Nat said. ‘Backing you up, and so will Dorothy. There are certain things that can't and shouldn't be sorted out over the phone, though, Sarah. When we're in Sydney might be the best time. Maybe you'd better make a list of what you want to actually say …'

‘I'm sick to death of lists,' I said. ‘I don't need one this time, anyhow. When we get there, I probably won't have too much trouble working out what to say.'

‘We'll have to pack an overnight bag each for Sydney. And talking clothes, I notice you've got a dress-shop bag there … Did you buy something new while you were down the street?'

‘Just a minute while I shake it out properly, so you can see how it looks.'

‘Oh, it's
lovely
, Sarah!' Aunty Nat said. ‘But isn't it a funny time of the year to get yourself a winter dress? They don't usually have them in stock quite this early, either. It's
beautiful
, even if it
is
a bit dizzy. Still, everyone your age should have a dizzy kind of dress once in a while. Did you have Sydney in mind when you bought it, dear? Might be a bit hot, you know, though I daresay there'll be air-conditioning at that registry office …'

‘I don't think I'll take it up to Sydney,' I said. ‘That's not what I bought it for, really. It's kind of special, to wear at Aunt Dorothy's wedding. But right now, I'll just nip over next-door and show Corrie.'

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Born in Kempsey, New South Wales, Robin Klein has now had more than forty books published. Many have been shortlisted for the Australian Children's Book of the Year Award, including
People Might Hear You
(1984),
Hating Alison Ashley
(1985),
Halfway Across the Galaxy and Turn Left
(1986) and
Seeing Things
(1994).

Came Back to Show You I Could Fly
won a Human Rights Award for Literature in 1989. It also won the 1990 Australian Children's Book of the Year Award for older readers, and was shortlisted for the 1990 Victorian Premier's Literary Award and the 1990 NSW Premier's Literary Award. This outstanding novel was named a White Raven book at the 1990 Bologna Children's Book Fair.

More recently, Robin's stories about the Melling sisters have been highly acclaimed:
All in the Blue Unclouded Weather
, which was followed by
Dresses of Red and Gold
and
The Sky in Silver Lace
, was winner of the 1992 NSW Premier's Award for Literature (Children's Books).

In 1991 Robin Klein was awarded the Dromkeen Medal for her significant contribution to the appreciation and development of children's literature in Australia.