aren’t you?’
‘No, I’m not,’ she said, her voice stronger in its truthfulness.
But he didn’t give up. ‘Well, whatever it is you’re up to – and I know damn well it’s something – like I said, don’t do it.’
She wanted to tell him what she was up to with the overnight bag and with the rag and the kero and the house. She wanted to so much she had to pause a moment and gather her thoughts so she could get rid of him. ‘What’s it to you anyway, Dom Fratelli?’ she said tartly.
She saw the look of hurt in his eyes. Before he turned to stride out of the house he said quietly, but with an awful air of finality in his voice, ‘I thought we were friends, Ingrid, you and me. Friends!’
She stood mute in the hallway and watched his disappearing back.
‘Don’t go, Dom!’ she wanted to call out. ‘Don’t leave me with this awful thing that’s so heavy on my heart I can’t even breathe.’ Instead she dashed an angry tear from her eye. With Dom walking away from her like that, it seemed even more important to talk to Freddy. Blow Mum and the Teledex!
Dom, Freddy, Mum! She had to think.
Think!
There was no one else who’d have their numbers, unless –
She forgot the overnight bag in her haste to get out the door, burst into the evening, the first star in the pale sky, a moon rising, a bit of a breeze starting up, and race up the street with her heart thudding, almost forgetting Blackie in her haste.
Hadn’t Terry said he had a long day ahead of him? Wouldn’t Constable Brooks know how to get every number in the land if he wanted them? Or the way to go aboutgetting them. The front light was on at the police station and there he was, still at the desk, with his head down.
She burst in the door.
‘What’s up, Miss Ingrid Crowe? Want to book a room, huh?’
And he was smiling at her.
‘You heard me, Frederick. Get here to the telephone at once. Your mother’s sick. That’s right. And that damned fool sister got the police to ring here. Waste of public money! Stupid idiot!’
Please don’t keep talking, bitchbiddy – two minutes would fly by and that was all she had. Constable Brooks had said two minutes was definitely the limit for a trunk call. Shut up shut up shut up!
‘What a hide that girl must have –’
And then his voice, hollow as if shaken out of sleep, but her own Freddy’s dear familiar voice.
‘Is this really you, Ingrid?’
‘Of course it is, boy. I told you it was. It’s your sister. Now don’t waste wor -’
‘What’s up, Ingrid? What is it?’ The kindness of her brother’s voice was still there.
She had to talk fast. ‘It’s Mum, Freddy. She’s in hospital. Her face has gone a bit funny and one arm too, but I think she’ll be all right, that’s what the nurse said – and I tried to ring you, but I couldn’t find your number and then I remembered that woman’s name and I thought I’d come up here to the police station so they’d find your number, and they did, but we’ve only got two minutes and Pippa’s with Mrs Harry Williams, Grandma Logan’s neighbour in Blackheath.And Pippa misses you and Charlie lots and lots and, oh boy, but I miss you, Freddy. I miss you so much!’ A big gulp of tears stopped her in her tracks. ‘Freddy!’
She knew there was a wild cry sounding in her voice, like she was drowning and he was the one who could save her, when she’d planned to be so calm. But how could she be calm when tears were streaming down her face just hearing his voice and knowing that, at last, he was hearing hers.
‘She’ll be right, Funnyface. Our mum’s strong as a horse – you know that. Now stop your crying. She’ll be right.’
And no – he’d used his pet name for her and she just didn’t think she could stand it with Freddy at the end of the line and the awful bitchbiddy leaning over her brother, and Constable Brooks close by, when there was so much more she needed to tell him. About how Mum wanted to burn the house down
‘No, I’m not,’ she said, her voice stronger in its truthfulness.
But he didn’t give up. ‘Well, whatever it is you’re up to – and I know damn well it’s something – like I said, don’t do it.’
She wanted to tell him what she was up to with the overnight bag and with the rag and the kero and the house. She wanted to so much she had to pause a moment and gather her thoughts so she could get rid of him. ‘What’s it to you anyway, Dom Fratelli?’ she said tartly.
She saw the look of hurt in his eyes. Before he turned to stride out of the house he said quietly, but with an awful air of finality in his voice, ‘I thought we were friends, Ingrid, you and me. Friends!’
She stood mute in the hallway and watched his disappearing back.
‘Don’t go, Dom!’ she wanted to call out. ‘Don’t leave me with this awful thing that’s so heavy on my heart I can’t even breathe.’ Instead she dashed an angry tear from her eye. With Dom walking away from her like that, it seemed even more important to talk to Freddy. Blow Mum and the Teledex!
Dom, Freddy, Mum! She had to think.
Think!
There was no one else who’d have their numbers, unless –
She forgot the overnight bag in her haste to get out the door, burst into the evening, the first star in the pale sky, a moon rising, a bit of a breeze starting up, and race up the street with her heart thudding, almost forgetting Blackie in her haste.
Hadn’t Terry said he had a long day ahead of him? Wouldn’t Constable Brooks know how to get every number in the land if he wanted them? Or the way to go aboutgetting them. The front light was on at the police station and there he was, still at the desk, with his head down.
She burst in the door.
‘What’s up, Miss Ingrid Crowe? Want to book a room, huh?’
And he was smiling at her.
‘You heard me, Frederick. Get here to the telephone at once. Your mother’s sick. That’s right. And that damned fool sister got the police to ring here. Waste of public money! Stupid idiot!’
Please don’t keep talking, bitchbiddy – two minutes would fly by and that was all she had. Constable Brooks had said two minutes was definitely the limit for a trunk call. Shut up shut up shut up!
‘What a hide that girl must have –’
And then his voice, hollow as if shaken out of sleep, but her own Freddy’s dear familiar voice.
‘Is this really you, Ingrid?’
‘Of course it is, boy. I told you it was. It’s your sister. Now don’t waste wor -’
‘What’s up, Ingrid? What is it?’ The kindness of her brother’s voice was still there.
She had to talk fast. ‘It’s Mum, Freddy. She’s in hospital. Her face has gone a bit funny and one arm too, but I think she’ll be all right, that’s what the nurse said – and I tried to ring you, but I couldn’t find your number and then I remembered that woman’s name and I thought I’d come up here to the police station so they’d find your number, and they did, but we’ve only got two minutes and Pippa’s with Mrs Harry Williams, Grandma Logan’s neighbour in Blackheath.And Pippa misses you and Charlie lots and lots and, oh boy, but I miss you, Freddy. I miss you so much!’ A big gulp of tears stopped her in her tracks. ‘Freddy!’
She knew there was a wild cry sounding in her voice, like she was drowning and he was the one who could save her, when she’d planned to be so calm. But how could she be calm when tears were streaming down her face just hearing his voice and knowing that, at last, he was hearing hers.
‘She’ll be right, Funnyface. Our mum’s strong as a horse – you know that. Now stop your crying. She’ll be right.’
And no – he’d used his pet name for her and she just didn’t think she could stand it with Freddy at the end of the line and the awful bitchbiddy leaning over her brother, and Constable Brooks close by, when there was so much more she needed to tell him. About how Mum wanted to burn the house down
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