Alice recoiled as if she’d been slapped. ‘What?’
‘Your baby brother. He survived. He was adopted, not long after you came to Thornfield.’
She stared numbly at them.
‘He was born premature, and was very sick. The doctors weren’t sure if he would survive. June was worried about caring for a sick newborn, and didn’t want to put you through more grief if he didn’t survive.’
Alice shook her head. ‘So she just left him behind?’
‘Oh, sweetpea.’ Candy reached out to her. ‘I’m so sorry. This is such a big shock, and a huge amount to take in. It’s going to take time. Why don’t you come back with us, to Thornfield? Please. We’ll look after you. We’ll —’
Alice ran for the toilet. She retched and gagged, gripped by convulsions.
Twig and Candy’s faces, full of fear, worry and love, bent over her, calling her name.
Candy slid the back door open and brought two bowls of pasta out to the patio. She handed one to Twig and sat beside her under Alice’s fairy lights. For a while they ate in silence. The sky faded from blue to amber to pink. The crater wall, backlit, looked like the hull of a beached ship.
‘When do you think we should wake her?’ Candy asked.
‘Let her sleep, Candy.’
‘She’s been in bed for more than a day now.’
‘And, by the looks of things, she needs the rest,’ Twig sighed.
‘What about her phone, though? It must have rung half a dozen times.’
‘Candy —’
‘But where do you think she got those bruises?’ Candy interrupted, whispering.
Twig shook her head. Put her bowl down and reached into her top pocket for her tobacco pouch. ‘They’re probably from her job here. You know how knocked about we get on the farm.’
‘I feel like we’ve lost her,’ Candy said in a quiet voice.
‘You’re just feeling that way because we don’t know what’s been going on in her life since she left. But she’s not exactly had the chance to tell us, has she? We’ve brought too much else with us.’
Candy didn’t respond. They watched the sun sink under the horizon.
‘You didn’t tell her June died waiting for her to come home,’ Candy said after a while.
‘Neither did you,’ Twig replied.
‘I know.’ Candy rubbed her forehead. ‘The last thing she needs is that kind of guilt.’
Early stars blinked in the sky.
‘Did you see her notebooks?’ Candy asked.
Twig shook her head again as she lit her smoke.
‘They’re on her bookshelves. Full of flowers and their meanings. Some pages have sketches, others have pressed flowers. Not in any order, not like they’re a dictionary series or anything. They look random, but flicking through them felt like something more. Like they’re a story.’
Twig took a drag, and exhaled her smoke upwards, shooting Candy a sideways glance.
‘What?’ Candy said. ‘I was just looking. They were on her bookshelf. I was curious.’ She jabbed her fork at her pasta. ‘I’m worried.’
Twig took another drag. ‘Me too.’
Candy put her fork and bowl down. ‘We need to convince her to come home with us,’ she said. ‘Thornfield is a third hers now, after all.’
Twig tapped the ash from her smoke. ‘All of that can wait. We’re not going anywhere.’
‘But don’t you think she’s in trouble? We’re her family. She needs us.’ Candy’s voice wavered.
‘We’re not her only family,’ Twig said pointedly.
Candy sat agape. ‘We love her. We raised her.’
‘And when she’s ready, we’ll be there for her. But right now, we have to give her the time she needs. To do what she needs to do.’
‘Which is?’
‘Live,’ Twig said simply. ‘You know that. Your head and heart aren’t talking sense to each other about this right now. She’s desperate to live her own story, and trust it enough to make mistakes and fuck up, and still know she’ll be okay.’
‘But,’ Candy’s bottom lip quivered, ‘what if she’s not?’
‘So what, we smother her like June did, to try and protect her? You know the saying. The road to hell …’ Twig trailed off, picking flecks of tobacco from her tongue.
Candy fell silent. Somewhere nearby dogs howled.
‘We won’t lose her again,’ Twig said. ‘Give her some credit.’
Candy nodded, her face creased in pain. ‘Okay,’ she said.
‘Okay.’ Twig took another long drag, the tobacco crackling in the quiet.
Alice sat on the couch drinking a cup of coffee. She’d been awake for a few hours, but her head felt as empty as the sky outside. Candy had told her she’d slept for two days. So much for you to take in; you must have really needed it.
Pip scurried underfoot while Candy and Twig ferried their things out to the rental car. They wanted to get back to Agnes Bluff before dark. Their return flight left early the next morning.
‘I think that’s everything.’ Twig came inside, dusting her hands. ‘I know I’ve already asked you twenty times, Alice, but if you want us to stay …’
Alice shook her head. ‘I’m okay. Time alone to let everything sink in will be good for me.’
‘Promise you’ll call us,’ Candy said, her face pinched. ‘When you have questions, or need to talk, or just want someone who knows you and loves you.’
Alice got up and went to her.
‘I hate goodbyes,’ Candy wailed, wrapping her arms around Alice. ‘Promise you’ll come and visit. We’re going to try to start over. Sowing season starts soon. Thornfield will always be your home.’
Alice nodded into Candy’s shoulder, inhaling her vanilla smell.
Candy stepped back. ‘Alice Blue,’ she said, tucking a strand of hair behind Alice’s ear before she got in the car.
It was just Alice and Twig. She couldn’t meet Twig’s eyes.
‘You okay?’ Twig cleared her throat.
Alice forced herself to look up. ‘I’ll be okay.’
They held each other’s gaze for a moment. Twig pulled a thick envelope from her back pocket.
‘When you’re ready,’ she said, ‘everything you need is in there. I should have given this to you years ago.’
Alice took the envelope. Twig pulled her in for a tight hug.
‘Thank you,’ Alice said. Twig nodded.
Alice waved until their rental car had disappeared from view.
When she went back inside, everything Twig and Candy had told her was waiting. June’s death. Alice’s brother’s life. She walked in circles, trying to make it all fit inside her somehow, but when she did that, all she had room for was Dylan. Days had passed. Where was he? Twig and Candy could have forgotten to mention that there’d been phone calls while she was sleeping. Putting the envelope Twig gave her aside, Alice hurried to her phone. Sure enough, there were messages. All from him. The first was apologetic, but his voice grew colder after the second. The last message made her sick to her stomach.
‘I’ve been the bigger person, I’ve called you and apologised, and you’re just ignoring me? Nice.’
Driven by guilt and her compulsion to make it right, Alice grabbed her keys and went out the back door. She walked along her fence line towards his house. She would apologise for going on the fire burn. She would apologise for not being more aware of his feelings, and for not coming to apologise sooner. She’d explain she’d had an unexpected family visit. She’d tell him. There’d been death, and life. He’d understand.
But Dylan’s gate was closed and padlocked. Neither his work ute nor his personal four-wheel drive were in the driveway.
‘He’s not home,’ Lulu said flatly behind her.
Alice turned. They hadn’t spoken for months.