She lay in bed watching the winter sky and naming the changing colours — soft navy and lilac to peach and champagne pink — before the sun rose and lit up the red earth. She’d taken to leaving her fairy lights on day and night. She thought of the gossip she’d overheard in the staff kitchen at headquarters: Dylan had taken leave to visit his girlfriend, Julie. It had hit her hard, especially as Dylan had met her at Kututu Puli the day before but hadn’t mentioned it.
Alice propped herself up in bed. Her breath puffed little steam clouds into the air. Pip scampered out of bed to scratch at the back door.
‘Only for you, Pip,’ Alice groaned, dragging herself up to let her out. She switched the heater on, shivering while she waited for its warmth to kick in.
On her way back inside, Pip gave Alice a lick. Alice nodded.
‘Birthday drinks are an excellent idea.’
She went into the kitchen and warmed a pot of milk, pouring half into a bowl, which she set down for Pip, and the rest into a mug with a shot of espresso coffee. She took a book from her bookshelf and scurried back into bed. Pip followed, licking her milky chops.
Alice propped herself against her pillows. She sipped her coffee and opened her book, but the world outside was too beautiful a distraction. Overnight frost melted on the thryptomene flowers, glittering as it caught the sun. The sky was china blue, dotted with plump clouds. In the distance, the crater wall was luminous in the morning light. Her mind swirled with the stories she’d learned about this place, of the mother who put her baby down to rest in the stars, and lost her child to the land. The story and the landscape were one and the same; even the arcing path of the stars over the northern rim of the crater mirrored its circular formation.
She snuggled further under her doona, watching as yellow butterflies hovered over the flowering bushes; were they in Dylan’s garden too? What was he doing, right at that moment, while she was at home, on her birthday, alone? Alice’s eyes welled. She didn’t often let herself wonder who she might be if her life had been different. Today she couldn’t stop herself. If June hadn’t intervened, would Alice be in Europe with Oggi now? Would she be his wife instead of Lilia, and would Iva be their daughter? If Alice hadn’t found out how June betrayed her, would she ever have left the flower farm? And, underneath, the most painful question: would her mother be alive if she’d never gone into her father’s shed? The next thought hit her hard, straight in her heart: Alice was a year older than her mother was when she died.
Someone knocked sharply at her front door. Alice pushed the doona back off her head. The skin around her eyes was tight from tears. Pip licked her salty cheeks. Another knock.
‘Chica? It’s me.’
Alice sat up and wrapped herself in her doona. She got out of bed and shuffled to the front door, opening it a crack.
‘Dios mío,’ Lulu said under her breath. ‘Alice, what’s wrong?’ She pushed the door open and bustled inside, carrying an enormous pair of handmade butterfly wings and a small bag. ‘These are clearly not important right now,’ Lulu said, putting everything on the table. Alice allowed herself to be guided to the couch, where she curled up in a ball. Lulu flicked the heater off and flung the back door open to let warm winter sun and fresh air into the house. She made two cups of honeyed tea, and settled herself beside Alice. Pip bounded outside to chase butterflies.
‘What’s going on, chica?’ Lulu asked gently. ‘You haven’t been your normal self for ages.’
The image of Dylan’s face consumed her. Alice couldn’t look at Lulu. ‘I just miss my mother, Lu,’ she whispered. ‘I miss my mum,’ she repeated, her voice breaking. She didn’t think she had any tears left, yet a new stream flowed freely down her nose and dripped into her teacup.
‘Can you call her? Or your dad? Or one of your brothers? Life out here can be hard, being so away from family, especially one as big as yours.’ Lulu rubbed Alice’s arm. Alice didn’t understand, until she tasted the ashen lie of her fairytale family. Her face crumpled.
‘Hey,’ Lulu said, her eyes heavy with worry.
Alice shook her head and wiped her face. She reached under her shirt and pulled out her locket. Offered it to Lulu. She took it from Alice and ran her thumb over the desert pea inlay.
‘That’s my family.’ Alice popped it open for Lulu. Her mother’s young and hopeful face looked up at them. Alice eyed her garden of wild thryptomene flowers. Flame, I burn. ‘The truth is, I don’t have a big family. I don’t really have anything left of a family at all.’ Somewhere in the distance a crow cawed. Alice braced herself for anger, but after a moment Lulu smiled warmly.
‘So, this is your mother?’
Alice nodded. ‘Her name was Agnes.’ She wiped her nose.
Lulu looked between the photograph and Alice. ‘You look so much like her.’
‘Thanks,’ Alice said, her chin wobbling.
‘Don’t answer this if you don’t want to, but, I mean, how did she …?’ Lulu trailed off.
Alice closed her eyes, remembering the feeling of muscle and sinew under her father’s skin when she held onto his legs on the windsurfer. The bruises on her mother’s naked, pregnant body as she came out of the sea. The brother or sister Alice would never know. The lantern she left alight in her father’s shed.
‘I don’t really know,’ she answered. ‘I don’t know.’
Lulu took Alice’s hand and placed her necklace in her palm. ‘This locket is beautiful.’
‘My grandmother made it.’ Alice closed her hand around it. ‘In my family, desert peas mean courage,’ she said. ‘Have courage, take heart.’
They sat together in silence while they drank their tea. After a while, Lulu stood with her hands on her hips.
‘You can’t be alone today,’ she stated. ‘Aiden’s got the fire going and the skillet oiled up. We’re having an afternoon barbecue and you’re coming over.’
Alice started to protest.
‘No, this one’s non-negotiable, chica. Besides, I’ve made extra guacamole.’ Lulu knew Alice’s weaknesses and how to use them.
Alice sniffed and looked over at her kitchen table. With the butterfly wings splayed out, it seemed ready to take flight. She raised an eyebrow at Lulu.
‘Oh, I’m making a costume for my cousin. She’s in a play, and is about your size. I need to know if it fits,’ Lulu stated.
‘What? You want me to get dressed up? Right now?’ Alice glanced down at herself.
‘Yes. Although, can you shower first? Maybe wash your hair?’
‘Pardon?’
‘Chica, I can’t send my cousin her costume with your tears and snot all over it. Besides, my abuela always said cleaning yourself up was one of the best remedies for sadness. In addition to her guacamole. Which, I may have mentioned, I have made fresh and have waiting for you at home.’
As Alice stepped under the hot shower, she listened to the sounds of Lulu clacking dishes together in the sink, humming as she tidied. Despite herself, she couldn’t help but smile.
Freshly showered and dressed as a giant monarch butterfly, Alice followed Lulu down the dirt track between their houses. The burnt orange of her wings was the same fiery hue as the red dirt.
‘Why have I let you convince me to wear this out of my house?’ Alice asked.
‘So Aiden can take photos for my cousin. I forgot to bring the camera with me to yours. Besides, who cares what you look like, chica? In case you’d forgotten, we’re in the middle of fucking Woop-Woop.’
Alice snorted with laughter. She was reluctant to admit that putting on the costume did make her feel better. Lulu had spared no detaiclass="underline" from the wire antennae pinned in Alice’s hair, to the black and white dotted dress and the carefully hand-painted monarch wings strapped to her back, she was unquestionably transformed.