When June rolled her window down, Twig took a pointed step backwards and she cursed herself for not having any breath mints.
‘She’s okay,’ Twig said after a moment, keeping her voice even. ‘She’s resting in the lounge room with Candy.’
June nodded.
‘I rang the hospital —’
‘Of course you did,’ June scoffed.
Twig ignored her. ‘The nurse, Brooke, said it sounded like a panic attack. Alice needs rest, company and a close eye. She also needs counselling, June.’ Twig stepped forward and put both her hands on the windowsill. ‘She needs to see someone.’
June shook her head.
‘Everyone needs someplace and someone to belong to.’ Twig’s voice was barely audible over the truck’s engine.
June smirked; Twig knew what she was doing, repeating the very words June herself had said, years ago when Twig first came to Thornfield. June threw the truck into gear. She would not be manipulated.
‘I’m going to enrol her in school. Where she belongs,’ she snapped. Twig leapt back, stung.
As June drove away, her skin crawled as the full weight of Twig’s words settled. What the hell was she thinking, taking responsibility for her son’s daughter? Who was she, other than Next of Kin on a form? The flicker of recognition in Alice’s eyes that morning played over and over in her mind. The same question nagged at her: how did Alice know her face?
Alice lay on the couch by the windows and listened to the rumble of June’s truck fade into the distance. She was trying to connect pieces of information. The statues in her father’s shed were of June. June was her grandmother, but was also her father’s mother. Why hadn’t Alice ever met her before? It couldn’t be that her father didn’t love June; why else would he spend so much time carving statues of her? Alice sighed, snuggling deeper into the couch. A magpie’s song drifted through the window. She closed her eyes and listened. The ticktock of the grandfather clock. The slow beat of her heart. The evenness of her breath.
After June had carried her downstairs into Twig’s care, she’d disappeared out of the house and hadn’t come back again. Twig had made Alice a cup of something sweet, which made her body feel like chocolate left in the sun. Her eyes drifted closed and when she opened them again Twig was gone. But sitting in front of her was Candy Baby, her long blue hair like waves of unspooled fairy floss.
‘Hey, sweetpea,’ Candy said, grinning.
Alice drank in the sight of her hair, the sparkling gloss on her lips, her chipped mint-coloured nail polish and the enamel cupcake studs in her ears.
‘Good to see colour in your face, little flower.’ Candy took Alice’s hand and gave it a squeeze. Unsure of how to respond, Alice just continued to stare. ‘I’m baking biscuits,’ Candy went on. ‘They’re for morning tea, but I need someone to taste them before I give them out. Wondered if you might help me out?’
Alice nodded so vigorously that Candy laughed, suddenly and deeply from her belly.
‘Well, would you look at that?’ Candy tucked a piece of Alice’s hair behind her ear. ‘Loveliest smile I’ve seen at Thornfield,’ she said. Only her mother had ever told Alice her smile was lovely.
While she waited for the biscuits, Alice drummed her fingers on her belly. Sunlight fell in thick, bright beams through the patchwork of giant tropical leaves at the window. The scent of tobacco mixed with sugary wafts from the kitchen. Every now and then Candy’s humming floated into the lounge room.
Eventually, footsteps approached from the kitchen, bringing a gust of syrup-scented air with them. Alice struggled to sit up.
‘No, sweetpea. Rest.’ Candy dragged a little side table to the couch and set a plate of Anzac biscuits and a chilled glass of milk on top of it. ‘Rest. With a treat.’ Alice took an Anzac biscuit warm from the oven. She pressed its edges between her thumb and index finger. Firm. She pressed its middle the same way. Doughy. Alice looked at Candy in astonishment.
‘Oh, totally. Crunchy edges, chewy middle. Only way they should ever be eaten,’ Candy said with a firm nod. In that moment, Alice loved her. She took as big a bite as possible.
‘Your cheeks are bulging like a possum’s,’ Candy snorted.
The screen door swept open and the sounds of someone stomping and scuffing their boots on the welcome mat filled the hall. A moment later Twig came into the lounge room, her brow knotted in worry. When she saw Alice and Candy, her face relaxed.
‘Perfect timing, Twiggy Daisy.’ Candy offered the plate. Twig looked at Alice with an eyebrow raised in question. Alice nodded with a shy smile.
‘Who am I to say no, if Alice says so?’ Twig took a biscuit from the plate and groaned as she bit into it. ‘You’re an alchemist, Candy.’
Alchemist. Alice promised herself she’d look it up in the dictionary later.
‘Reckon that chamomile and honey tea worked a treat, Alice. Feeling a bit better?’ Twig smiled warmly at Alice. Alice nodded. ‘Good. That’s really good.’
‘Where’s June gone?’ Candy asked, immediately looking like she wished she hadn’t.
‘June’s, uh, had to run a few errands in town.’ Twig shot Candy a pointed look and briskly changed the subject. ‘Ready for the Flowers to come up for morning tea?’
Candy nodded. ‘Coffee and tea urns and biscuits are out on the back verandah ready to go.’
‘Great. I’ll —’ Twig was interrupted by the beep of a car horn as tyres crunched up the driveway. She craned her neck to look out the window.
‘Boryana’s here to get her pay. Can I take her a biscuit?’ Twig pinched two biscuits from the plate, then took a third, which she held between her teeth, smiling. She disappeared into the hallway, only to come back a moment later with her boots on. ‘God, they’re sinfully good, Candy.’ Twig turned to leave then stopped. ‘Why don’t you show Alice around the workshop if she’s up to it? Good chance while the Flowers aren’t in there. I’ll see you ladies later.’ Twig waved and walked outside.
‘Boryana’s a Flower too, the only one who doesn’t live here,’ Candy explained. ‘She and her son live on the other side of town. Bory comes every week and keeps Thornfield clean and tidy. She’s Bulgarian and totally lovely.’
Alice wondered what ‘Bulgarian’ was. A type of flower, maybe?
‘So listen, I’m going to run up and get your boots and stuff, and maybe once you’re dressed we’ll check out the workshop?’ Candy asked. ‘If you’re up to it I’ll introduce you to Boryana.’
Alice nodded. She would have been up for anything as long as it was with Candy Baby.
While Candy was upstairs, Alice went to the window to see what a Bulgarian looked like. Outside, talking to Twig by an old and battered car, was a woman with strong, tanned arms, long black hair and bright red lipstick. They laughed heartily together. But it wasn’t the women that captured Alice’s attention. It was the boy sitting in the front seat of the car.
Alice had never been so close to a boy.
She could only see his profile, most of which was hidden by shaggy wheat-coloured hair. It hung over his face, just like hers did. He was looking down, at something in his hands. She wondered what his eyes were like. He shifted his weight and lifted the book he was reading to rest it on the window. A book!
As if he could hear her heart drumming, the boy looked up and straight at her. Something strange shot through her body. Her limbs wouldn’t work, as if she was frozen to the spot. Alice stared back at him from behind the window. Slowly, he raised his hand. Waving. He was waving. Bewildered, Alice lifted her hand and returned the wave.