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Authors: Catherine Bateson

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction/Family Stepfamilies

Millie and the Night Heron (10 page)

BOOK: Millie and the Night Heron
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Only when I had finished all that could I look at the bird book. I thought about looking up ‘bird with no neck' on Google, but Tom had said specifically the bird book and I didn't want to cheat.

The bird that flew over us in the dark was a rufous night heron. I found it by

(a) looking at wetlands birds
(b) checking out the pictures and trying to remember what our bird had looked like
(c) reading the descriptions.

I would have given up but I wanted to prove to Tom that I was up to the challenge. (I was also interested in what the special thing I was going to get was, but that wasn't the main reason. That was secondary. I really mean that. I thought the special thing was chocolate. It usually is.)

‘It was probably a rufous night heron,' I told Tom triumphantly when he emerged from the darkroom. ‘At least, that's what I think it was.'

‘I think you're right,' he said, grinning, ‘and I think this is a good photo. What do you reckon?'

It was a photo of me with Pavlov. We were mooching along by the lake's edge. I could remember Tom calling out to me and I'd turned around. That's when he took the photo. I was half turned to the camera. One half of my face was shielded by my hair, the other half was turned towards him. Pavlov had looked too. Behind us the lake was both busy with birds and still.

I looked at the photo. I wanted to tell him what I liked about it, the way Mum made me talk about her paintings, but it was a photo of me, so it was hard. He was watching me.

‘I like it.'

‘Why?'

‘Okay, you have to know that when I'm talking about it, I'm not talking about a photo of me. Just a girl and her dog by some water. Is that a deal?'

‘That's a deal.'

‘What I like about the whole photo is that she's just an ordinary girl, the dog's a shaggy kind of ordinary dog. Nothing special is happening, you know? The girl's just turned around to look at someone who's called her, but...'

‘Yes?'

‘Well, it's special enough for someone to have taken the photo in the first place, isn't it? So she
must mean something to the person who is taking it. And so we look at her a bit harder, right? Isn't that the thing with photos?'

‘Gee, Millie, sometimes I listen to you and I can just hear the fact that you are your mother's daughter.'

I was pleased, even though I was both my mother and my father's daughter, and myself, but of course Tom didn't know Patrick so he couldn't tell which parts were Patrick, which were Mum and which were just me.

‘And your father's daughter,' Tom said, as though he could read my thoughts. ‘That's how come you were so good in the darkroom and at procedure. The daughter of an artist and a scientist, and your own interesting self, Millie. What more could you need?'

I could think of a whole list of things I needed, but I knew what Tom meant so I stayed quiet.

‘I owe you something special for the night heron,' he said, ‘but I have to give this some thought, okay? So can you wait?'

‘I didn't do it for that,' I said. ‘I did it because I wanted to know.'

‘I understand that. Listen, we'd better get home, because you still have to stick everything on your black card and Pavlov has to be fed.'

(Tom and I had eaten cold baked beans with
hot toast. A gourmet delight, Tom said, depending on impact for the difference between the soft, cold, squishy texture of the baked beans and the hot, crunchy texture of the toast, but I knew what Mum would have said!)

When we got home it was after nine o'clock and the answering machine light was flashing like crazy.

‘Oh dear,' Tom said, checking his watch, ‘your mother had strict school-next-day bedtimes for you and already we've flouted them.'

‘For a good cause. Do you mind if I go into your room and get the card?'

‘Of course not. I'll play the messages.'

The first one was from Mum. My heart flip-flopped hearing her voice.

‘Hi, Millie. Hi, Tom. Hope everything is okay and sorry to miss you both. Millie, I know something is happening this week at school. Hope you remember! Tom, dearest, another big thank you for stepping in like this and I do hope everything is okay. I'll try to ring later but there's an artists' dinner on so it might be quite late. If it's too late I won't, because you might be ... oops, there's the battery beep, I have to recharge. Miss you both and lots of love.'

I looked at Tom. He was smiling at the answering machine in a particularly dopey fashion.

‘Hi there, Kate, it's Sheri. I really need to talk to you. If you're there, pick up. Kate, pick up. So you're not there. Well, I don't know. Where else would you be? Kate, I need you.'

‘Mum's best friend,' I said to Tom.

‘Kate, it's Sheri. I rang before. I really need to talk to you. Pick up. Just pick up, Kate. I don't care what you're doing, stop it and pick up.'

‘Kate, it's been hours and you haven't rung me or anything and my life is falling apart. Please call me, Kate, please. Mitchell and I need you. You and Millie. We need you both. Our life is falling ... sorry, that should be past tense, our life has fallen apart. Ring us, Kate.'

‘Something has happened,' I said. ‘Something bad, Tom. Sheri wouldn't normally ring like that.'

‘She sounds ... well, I hesitate to say it, but she sounds a little melodramatic.'

‘Are you going to ring her back?'

‘I don't think I should.' Tom looked up and down the hallway as if there was someone else he could call upon. ‘I don't even know her.'

‘She sounds really sad, Tom, and Mum can't phone her. It's up to us.'

‘I don't have the number.'

‘It's in Mum's phone book. Here.'

‘Look, Millie, I can't ring someone I don't know and ask them why they're sad. You ring her.'

‘Are you sure?'

‘Well, you can tell her your mum's mobile battery is dead and you know her situation better than I do.'

‘She hasn't got a situation,' I told him. ‘She's just got a son called Mitchell and an ex-husband and she's living with this school counsellor called Brendan, who isn't particularly nice even though she loves him more than anything.'

‘Sounds like a situation to me.'

‘It's just Sheri,' I said. I was tired and wanted to go to bed and dream about being a world famous photographer. ‘I'll ring, but you stand there, in case it's something you should talk to her about, okay?'

‘It's a deal.' Tom actually moved one step forward and half a step towards me. ‘How is that?'

‘Perfect. It's ringing. It's still ringing. She's gone out, maybe ... oh, no, oh, hold on. Shh. Hi, Sheri.'

Sheri sounded nearly hysterical.

‘Kate,' she sobbed. ‘Oh, Kate, thank heavens you rang. I've been ringing and ringing your number but it was always your blasted machine.'

‘Sheri, it's Millie here, not Kate. Mum's in Sydney.'

‘Millie, you sound just like your mother. Oh Millie, I tried her mobile even – and he hates me
making mobile calls. It's just that little message, the person you are trying to contact, etc. I don't know who else to talk to. Have you got another number for her?'

‘She's out,' I said. ‘
We
can't talk to her. She's out at an artists' dinner. Sheri, what's wrong? I can tell her when she rings next, if you like.'

‘He was leading this double life, Millie. Brendan was. You know at Christmas when he took the presents to give to another family? A family in need, he said? They really were another family. His other family. Millie, I don't want to be telling you this. I'm so sorry.'

‘She's sorry,' I mouthed at Tom.

‘Who are you talking to?'

‘Tom,' I said. ‘You know,
The Boyfriend.
Sheri, do you want to talk to him? He's good with situations. He's very user-friendly.'

‘There's nothing to do. Mitchell and I have to move out. I can't stand living here. I can't stand knowing he's seeing someone else, that he was always seeing someone else. It's just so...'

‘Crappy,' I supplied for her. She seemed at a loss for words.

‘Crappy.' Sheri laughed but it wasn't a good laugh, not a
gee, the world's a funny place
laugh. It was a laugh of doom. ‘He used to get angry with me. Something Mitchell or I had done or hadn't
done. Stupid things. Mitchell was always doing something wrong, according to Brendan. Leaving a tap dripping – he couldn't turn the taps hard enough. It was Brendan's fault, not changing the tap washers. But he'd get angry with Mitchell. He'd say, “How do you think we can save the world if kids like you don't become more responsible.” I said to him, “You're a counsellor, Brendan. Do you think that's appropriate stuff to say to a seven-year-old?” “Well, Sheri,” he'd say, “if you're not going to be responsible for the welfare of your child, someone has to be, I suppose.” He'd say, “You don't make me feel very healthy, Sheri. I think I need to go somewhere else for a while”, and then he'd get in his car and drive off. I'd sit there and cry, Millie. Brendan was feeling healthy somewhere else, yeah. He was feeling healthy with another woman.' There was a fresh wail of sobs.

‘Look,' I said, ‘I think you had better talk to Tom. He really helped with Rowan, you know.'

‘Who is Rowan?'

‘This boy I had a crush on. He went home to play snooker with Tayla who is the most horrible girl in the world.'

‘What was Tom's advice?'

‘Take-away pizza and videos,' I said promptly. ‘Shall I put him on?'

‘Oh, I may as well say hello,' Sheri said. ‘Just hold on, I have to blow my nose.'

There was the squelchy hoot of a nose being blown and then Sheri came back on the phone.

‘Thanks, Millie,' she said. ‘You're a wonderful girl.'

I held out the phone receiver to Tom mutely. He looked at me with a pleading look but took it gingerly.

‘Hello, Tom here ... Yes, yes, that's right ... Good, yes, very good. Actually she's seeing Patrick ... No, I'm not worried ... Well, okay, I was a little ... at first ... That's right, as you are with old ... but I'm not now ... That's terrible, Sheri ... What a lying ... Well, yes, I did say that ... I was pretty young when take-away pizza worked, I must admit ... Work, too, of course ... No, I don't have any kids ... I'm enjoying ... Yes, she is ... Yes, very ... Oh, I think we're happy ... very happy ... I haven't met anyone quite ... No ... Well, no, you couldn't stay ... Come here? ... Well, I don't like...'

Sheri and Mitchell couldn't come here. I shook my head wildly at Tom. Not here, not with Mum away. I couldn't cope with them and neither could he. We weren't geared up for a heartbroken Sheri.

‘There's not really any room,' Tom said firmly. ‘And Kate isn't here. There must be somewhere else you can go, just for a couple of days? ... Yes, I
think that would be best ... Please, don't think I'm ... No ... Well, that's right ... I don't think we would ... Good, I think that is a good idea ... Back to Millie? Of course ... And look, I think you're well out of it if he's seeing this other ... All the time? Well, that is shocking ... and with a child involved ... just reprehensible ... Maybe you should notify the school ... Oh, I don't know ... If you were calm ... Well, it has to effect his professional ... Sure, I understand that, but ... Well, yes, he's in a position of telling others ... It does sound as though he's abusing his ... Perhaps it would be best to wait ... Yes, Millie's here ... Good talking to you, too, and I am so sorry, Sheri. It's a terrible thing he's done. He does sound like a complete ... And from everything Kate and Millie have told me you're a wonderful ... Oh, yes, here she is then. Bye.'

He held out the phone to me with a look of relief.

‘Sheri? See I told you he was okay ... Yes, she does seem very happy ... I'm fine. We've been all afternoon in the darkroom, developing photographs ... Give her a call tomorrow morning. I'll get you the number.' I read Mum's hotel number to Sheri. ‘Okay. Yeah, Sheri, I love you too, lots and lots. Big hugs and to Mitchell, too ... I think that's a good idea, Sheri. Your mum'll look after you for a couple of days and Mitchell loves her, too. Then Mum will
be home. She'll know what to do ... Oh Sheri, of course I'd phone you ... Thank you. You take care, too. Let his stupid tyres down for me. Bye.'

‘She's pretty upset,' Tom said, looking worried. ‘You don't think she should have come here?'

‘No.' I shook my head. Sheri upset was like a force of nature. You never knew what she'd do. ‘She's going to her mother's place. Aunty Rox will look after her. She could even go to Mitchell's dad's place. He'd be happy to put them up, but she won't do that, of course. It could give him false hope.'

‘Of course,' Tom said.

‘You see what I mean about birds that mate for life,' I told him, yawning. ‘It's a lot easier.'

Tom laughed. His laugh was a good laugh. It was that glad sound that tells the world you're happy with it.

‘I think she's better out of it. What a ... well, what a dreadful man he must be.'

‘Pig's Trotters, that's what I call him. His name is Trotter. Mum didn't like him from the start. She said he was controlling and ... a world beginning with g. Glib. She said he was glib. What does glib mean?'

‘Someone who says a lot of stuff, you know, talks the talk but it's all bull ... oops, sorry Millie. He sounds worse than that, though.'

‘Oh, I'm sure Mum will find a few new things to
say about him now. Sheri will be okay, though. She's pretty cool and tough in her own way.'

‘You know, Millie, not all men are like that. I wouldn't ever...'

‘You're cool, too.' I punched him lightly on his shoulder. ‘I don't think you need to worry.'

BOOK: Millie and the Night Heron
3.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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