Sunny Side Up Part 8

'Poor Willow,' I whispered in her ear. 'Boris is a mean, mean cat, and we're going to make him pay.'

While we were was.h.i.+ng up, Saskia told me that she had put a Pizza-A-Go-Girl poster up at her school and that she was pretty sure one of their teachers would be putting in an order for Friday night.

'It's Father Kenny,' she said. 'He's our parish priest. He loves pizza.'

'Aren't priests meant to eat fish on Fridays?' I asked.

'That's only in Lent,' said Lyall, wiping down the sink.

'Okay, bring it on,' I said. 'We'll deliver to anyone: criminals, priests, who's next?'

Willow slept in my room that night so that she could stay well clear of Boris. I thought about Granny Carmelene all alone in her big old white-and-black house. Maybe if Mum gave her another chance, she'd find that Granny Carmelene had changed. People do you know. They call it mellowing. And anyway, what was there not to like about Granny Carmelene? Even though I'd promised that I wouldn't tell anyone about her illness, I couldn't help thinking that if Mum knew it might make her forget about whatever went on in the past. And how could I go away for a whole weekend without Mum knowing where I was going? I guess I could just let Mum think I was at Dads, and let Dad think I was at Mums. I mean, there have to be some advantages to having divorced parents. I could become invisible and slip off to Tasmania without anybody noticing. I'd have to hope like crazy that neither of my parents called the other one to talk about anything normal, like basketball. I'd be living a double lie, with double secrets on top. Imagine what that would do to the Stash-O-Matic! It would probably blow the whole thing up.

But I had to go to Tasmania with Granny Carmelene, not just because she was dying, but because I wanted to live and have adventures and get out of doing the dishes, as well as have a big dose of good, old-fas.h.i.+oned one-onone. I wanted to see King Solomon's caves with my own blood relative, even if her blood was faulty. I just had to go, my intuition told me. Surely I could live a double lie (and possibly break a perfectly good Stash-OMatic) . . . just once?

Claud did turn up for Pizza-AGo-Girl on Friday night, even though I didn't really want her to.

And we did get an order from Father Kenny, as well as two other new customers who were friends of Mrs Wolverine. Saskia was reading the pizza dough recipe and measuring out some yeast into the scales. She'd also been working on some new pizza box labels, which I had to say were better than the ones Claud and I had made, because Saskia was really good at art.

'I can do all the deliveries,' said Lyall. 'But can't we change the business name to something not so girly?'

Claud must have overheard him from the back yard.

'Sorry Lyall,' she said as she came through the shed door, 'Pizza-A-Go-Girl has a solid market reputation. It would be bad for business to change names now.' She gave me the eyebrow, as if to say Back me up here, Sunny.

'I agree,' I said flatly, as I put another log on the fire in the pizza oven.

'Me too,' said Saskia. 'So you're outvoted Lyall. Besides, I've already designed our Pizza-A-Go-Girl T-s.h.i.+rts.'

'There's like, no way I'm wearing a Pizza-A-Go-Girl T-s.h.i.+rt,' said Lyall, just as Mum and Carl came into the shed with herbs from the garden.

'Mmm mm,' said Carl, 'fresh basil!' And then he started dancing around the shed with it, singing that old Dean Martin song about the moon hitting your eye with a big pizza pie. Then he sang his own version a When you eat tuna fish on a big silver dish, that's a mornay a until Lyall and Saskia begged him to stop.

'Dad, you're embarra.s.sing us,' said Saskia under her breath.

'Claud, you're here. Great! How are things at home?' asked Mum. 'Is Buster okay?'

'Pretty good, thanks,' said Claud. 'Still no word from his mum, though,' she said, looking at the list of orders I had made.

'Yeah, well, you would nick off, wouldn't you? If you ended up with a kid like Buster.' I said.

'Sunny!' just about everybody yelled.

'It wouldn't hurt to have a little more compa.s.sion,' added Mum.

'Yeah, Sunny,' said Claud. 'Get over it!'

'You get over it, Claud!'

'Hey, I've an idea!' Lyall interrupted, 'How 'bout Buster joins the business, too? Then I wouldn't be so outnumbered by girls.'

'Now there's a thought,' said Carl, was.h.i.+ng the herbs.

And Mum said, 'That's a good idea, Lyall.'

Even Saskia said, 'I don't mind.'

I was the only one who said, 'Noooooooooooo!'

'What is your problem, Sunny?' said Claud.

'My problem? My problem? I'm not the one who's gone weird, Claud. You're the one who has a complete personality change the minute some boy is around. I'm not the one who pretends to be doing stuff they're not. I'm not the one who laughs fake. I'm certainly not the one who doesn't bother to tell important stuff a like Buster joining our basketball team. And I'm not the one who stole the profit jar, Claud, I mean, that's sinking pretty low!'

'What!' yelled Claud. 'How can you say-'

'Wait a minute,' said Lyall. 'That was me. I mean, I didn't steal it. I moved it to inside the piano. I thought it would be safer and then I, like, forgot all about it. Sorry! I'll grab it,' he said, running out of the shed.

'Sunny,' said Mum shaking her head, 'what's got into you? You didn't really think Claud would steal.' She was frantically looking through a pile of newspapers for the crossword.

'Listen, Sunny,' said Claud. 'There're things you don't know. I couldn't say anything about Buster because we were chosen as his foster family and there are privacy rules and all this stuff that you're not allowed to say. That's why I couldn't stop you making up Quinny's pizza order last week, even though I knew he wouldn't be there. And as for basketball, it was Mum who suggested that Buster should try out, and I had to take home his homework sheets, 'cos he was staying at our place.'

'Sunny, you didn't burn today's paper did you? I can't find the crossword,' said Mum.

'Got it!' puffed Lyall, running in with the profit jar.

'And anyway, Sunny,' added Claud, helping Mum sort through the papers, 'sometimes you're not the easiest friend to have either! Sometimes I don't want to do everything together. Sometimes I want to have other friends too. I mean, can't you just share, Sunny? You know, like, just share?'

Claud turned to Mum with a crossword from last week's paper and said, 'How about this one, Alex? It's not done yet.'

But Mum just looked stressed and a bit mad, partly due to not smoking and partly due to the fact that she had probably already memorised the answers to today's crosswords from calling Crossword Solutions, and was hoping to look impressive in front of Carl. Last week's crossword just wasn't going to cut it.

Just then Carl walked in with a ladder and some of those light globes that use less electricity. 'We've all got to do our bit,' he said. 'By the way, Lyall, I hope you switched that computer off while you're not using it.'

'Sunny, I can't believe you burned today's paper,' said Mum anxiously.

'You're looking a bit tense, love,' said Carl, hugging the ladder with one arm and Mum with the other. 'How 'bout I make us a vodka tonic?'

Mum looked as though she was about to burst. Her face was red, her brow was twisted up and her jaw jutted out. She'd dropped the girlie act completely. At that moment, I have to say I actually missed it, because even though the girlie act was fake, at least it wasn't scary.

'Carl, I told you,' she said without moving her lips, 'I can't have any alcohol until after I finish my hypnosis. I've told you three times. No alcohol, okay?'

'Sorry, love, totally forgot. I'll get us a mineral water instead.' He filled two gla.s.ses and cut some fresh lemon. 'Hey,' he said. 'Did you ever hear the one about the three men on a train? There was an Irish man, an American and-'

'Daaaaaad-duh!' shrieked Lyall and Saskia.

'Fine,' said Carl. 'Gee, it's really joy to the world over here tonight, isn't it?'

I was staring into the fire, trying not to cry about what Claud had said, or about Granny Carmelene, and glad for all the commotion to take the attention away. Maybe Claud was right and I am the sort of person who finds it hard to share. Maybe it's all part of being an only child introvert?

Mum handed me the profit jar. 'Sunny, you should really apologise to Claud. No one likes to be accused of something they didn't do.'

'Sorry, Claud,' I said, putting the jar back in the fridge.

'It helps if you look at someone when you apologise, Sunny,' said Mum, 'as though you really mean it.'

I gave Mum the eyebrow as if to say, You know, Mum, I think I preferred you as a smoker. You might die sooner, but at least you'd be a more chilled-out person.

'Sorry, Claud,' I said, throwing her a darting look, and feeling a little embarra.s.sed for getting the stealing part so wrong.

'Me too,' said Claud. 'Let's just forget about it and get on with our orders.'

'Sounds like a good idea,' said Carl, handing Mum her mineral water.

'So?' asked Lyall, wiping down a chopping board. 'Is Buster going to come next week or what? Or is this just going to be a life-long girl fest?'

'Can we just get on with making pizzas?' I asked.

'I guess a vote would be fair,' said Carl. 'Hand's up who's in favour!'

I don't need to tell you which way that one panned out!

I was sooo glad to be at Dad's on Sat.u.r.day. Steph and I went shopping at Chadstone for itsy-bitsy singlets and baby Flora suits for her to wear home from hospital. They were size 000 and didn't even look big enough for Boris. We had to get ones that weren't obviously girly, so as not to give away the secret about Flora to Dad. 'I think all this pink and blue stuff is silly anyway,' said Steph. 'Not to mention those ridiculous baby hair bands! Why does a baby have to advertise its gender?'

'Me too,' I said, helping Steph with the shopping bags. She had a list from the hospital of all the things she needed to pack.

'Nighties!' said Steph as she crossed the baby suits off the list. 'I can't remember the last time I even owned a nightie.'

It made me think about Mum, and whether she had been as excited about me being born as Steph was about Flora, and whether she bought me tiny baby suits too. And how it was for Granny Carmelene being big and pregnant with Mum. And about how it could happen that something makes that closeness end, and a gap gets in the way a like the gap I could feel growing between Mum and me. Maybe the gap gets wider because n.o.body does anything about stopping each other from drifting away, or about building a bridge.

When Steph and I got home, Dad was in his basketballcoaching gear.

'How're my two favourite girls?' he beamed, giving Steph and me a kiss. 'Ready for the match today, Sunny? It'll be a tough one. I want to get down early so-'

'-so we can have a good warm up session before the game,' I finished for him. 'Yes coach!' and I saluted him like they do in the army. I wanted to tell Dad and Steph about Tasmania. I really did. Mostly because I could feel the Stash-O-Matic reaching maximum capacity. But instead I made up a fresh new lie: I told them I was hanging with Ruby Carter in the morning, then staying at Mum's on Sunday night. Then I just had one more lie to tell Mum a that I'd be staying at Dad's on Sunday night, instead of her place. Then my lying career would definitely be over. Promise! (If you can believe that.) I thought about inventing some sort of an electric shock device, just in case lying did become a habit. Something that would really hurt. Maybe the tangent police would be better at detecting lies than tangents.

Buster Conroy got two three-pointers in a row. Can you believe it? One of them was even a swish. It's hard to be unhappy with someone who just helped your team win, even if he was a totally dodgy individual who took your friend away. Being so happy about the big win made me happier with Claud, too. Plus I wanted to prove to her that I could share. I even told Claud about having to lie my way to Tasmania, but not about You Know What. (Granny Carmelene's illness, I mean.) Letting it slip was tempting, but I didn't want to inflict such a heavy secret on Claud a even if a burden shared is a burden halved, as They say.

'So, Ta.s.sie tomorrrow? What's she like, this long lost grandmother, anyway? And when are you going to tell your mum? It's like you're having an affair, Sunny, with your granny!' said Claud, banging the locker door shut in the changerooms.

'Mum would kill me,' I said. 'Besides, all we ever talk about these days is who's going to do the dishes. Need a lift home, Claud? Dad's out in the car.'

'It's okay, I'm catching the tram. Gotta fly. Thanks anyway, though.' Claud grabbed her bag and ran out of the change room, calling over her shoulder, 'I'll ring you tonight, Sunny, to say farewell!'

I looked at myself close-up in the mirror, and washed the sweat off my face. I stared deep into my own eyes and wondered if anyone else could see all the secrets behind them just from looking at me.

When I was in the car with Dad I saw Claud and Buster running across the footy oval to the tram stop. I think they were holding hands, but I couldn't be totally sure. Either way, seeing them running off like that was like watching a silent movie, in slow motion. It was sort of lovely. And because it was in slow motion, it gave me time to see clearly the things that sometimes happen too fast to notice. Like how life had made a gap between Claud and me, and how I had blamed the gap on Buster. He was just someone who Claud had invited in, just like I was doing with Granny Carmelene.

At dinner I asked Dad and Steph if I could move in with them for a while as a back-up plan.

'I could help with Fl- the baby too,' I said to Steph, pa.s.sing her the beans.

'Sunny,' said Dad, 'it's not that we don't want you here. You know we do. I'm more concerned about you wanting to give up on your home life with Mum, just because a few challenges have been thrown in. You can't always run away.'

'Well, it doesn't feel like home any more. Even Willow's being bossed about by a cat. It's just not dignified. Is there any dessert?'

'No,' said Steph, 'but only for a little while longer. As soon as this baby's born, I'm having a carbohydrate party.' And she rubbed her belly as she laughed.

'Look, Sunny, you're going through some big changes all round. Give yourself some time to adjust. It'll all settle down, I promise you. Now you better get organised for tomorrow. If you're going to be with Ruby all day and you want to stay the night at Mum's you'll need to pack all your things for school on Monday too.'

Granny Carmelene had a big old Mercedes. It was a b.u.t.tery-cream colour with fins on either side at the back. She had the engine running and was cleaning the windows with scrunched up newspaper when I walked down the drive.

'It needs a bit of time to warm up,' Granny said. 'Just like its owner.' She gave me a kiss on the cheek. 'I'm so excited, Sunny, and so happy you could come.'

'Me too,' I said, putting my overnight bag in the open boot.

'Could you run inside for me?' She pointed towards the house. 'I've made a fresh hummingbird cake and a thermos of tea. G.o.d knows if there'll be any decent tea on board the boat. Best to bring your own, I say. I've nearly finished these windows.'

I pa.s.sed the drawing room, and the ancestor's eyes made me feel instantly guilty again, so I glanced over my shoulder to make sure Granny Carmelene couldn't see me and then gave them the finger on my way to the kitchen. I really wanted to have a stickybeak upstairs, but it's bad manners to ask to look around someone's house. You should wait until they offer, or maybe just drop hints.

'Thank you, Sunday,' said Granny Carmelene as I carried the basket outside. 'You can put it in the trunk.' She was wearing another totally colour-coordinated outfit: a pleated, cream linen skirt, a silky blouse with a peac.o.c.k-feather design, which did up at the neck, and a matching jacket. There was a dark-chocolate handbag on the front seat, which totally matched her shoes.

'Is there anything else, Granny, that I can do?' I was hoping she'd ask me to get something from her bedroom so that I could have a peek in her wardrobe. It must have been like a department store up there.

'Let me see, I think we're almost done. I'll just do a quick security check and lock the doors. You get in and choose some music. There're a whole lot of tapes in the glove box.'

I looked through Granny Carmelene's tapes. I hadn't heard of most of them, but I could tell they must have been old style because there were names like Billy Holiday and Nina Simone. And there were some French tapes by someone called edith Piaf and also Serge Gainsbourg, who had a very big nose and smoked a cigar. I put the edith Piaf one in the tape deck as Granny got in the driver's seat beside me. We both looked at our watches. It was nearly six o'clock.

'Do you know what this song means, Sunny?'

I was looking at the tape cover. 'No, but I am going to be learning French when I get to Year Seven. I can't wait.'

'She says Non, je ne regrette rien, I regret nothing. They called her the waif sparrow. She had a very difficult life, apparently, but no regrets.'

I didn't really know what Granny Carmelene was talking about, or what edith Piaf was singing about, for that matter. But I listened carefully to the song anyway, and how the music built up and up and made my body tingle, which meant absolutely and undeniably that it must have been about something important.

'You should never have regrets, Sunday, there is only learning.'

'Okay, I won't.' I wished I'd chosen a different tape because the whole topic was making my secret adventure feel heavy and serious when I wanted to feel naughty and free a even if my travelling companion did have a life-threatening condition and was about a hundred.

Granny Carmelene had reserved a twin cabin on the Spirit of Tasmania's Deck Eight. We parked the car down below and made our way up the stairs and narrow walkways to our room. The cabin had two single beds on either side of a porthole window, and a very small bathroom. Granny unpacked the thermos of tea and the cake onto the bedside table, and hung her jacket up on the back of the door.

'Don't let me forget that, Sunny, will you?'

'I know, let's put the car keys in the pocket,' I said. 'That way if you forget your jacket we won't be able to start the car, which will make you remember to go and get your jacket.'

'What a clever idea,' said Granny Carmelene, putting her car keys in the pocket of her jacket and hurrying back to sit on the little bed, as if she might have fallen over if it wasn't there.

'You don't mind if I take a little rest, do you, Sunny? Did you bring something to read? Afterwards, we'll go for c.o.c.ktails.'