time. Then we hear a thump directly beneath us, and muffled conversation.
'Are you kids in there?' says a voice.
We sit silently and stare at each other. I'm not really sure what we're supposed to be doing. 'I don't think we've thought this through,' I whisper. 'Are we hiding or are we sieging?'
'Hiding.' From Will.
'Sieging.' From Declan. 'Don't worry, I'm prepared for this.' He gestures for us to stay out of sight, then removes the cover and calls down through the hole. 'I'm diabetic, you ignoramus, and when I collapse Jenna-Belle is going to call Today Tonight. How's it going to look for you when I get dragged out of here on a gurney?'
Then there's some more barely audible talking disappearing down the hallway.
Declan is smiling, pleased with himself.
'Good thinking! That was ace,' says Will with admiration.
A few minutes later the voice is back.
'Declan, is it?' the voice asks. 'How are you going to ring Today Tonight?'
'With my mobile phone,' Declan says, feeling his pockets.
'A blue Nokia with an Astroboy cover? I'm looking at it. Jenna-Belle and Willem, your mother is waiting for you outside. We've removed your furniture and David is changing the locks now. That's going to take an hour or so. You can stay up there as long as you like, but once you do come out the house will be locked, and if you attempt to enter again you will be charged with trespass. You don't want to put your mother through that, do you?'
Will frowns and I can see tears of frustration building in his eyes. He covers his face with his hands. Declan looks deflated and embarrassed. I just feel bone weary.
'I appreciate that this is a difficult day for you kids, but this isn't making it any easier for anyone. It's probably best just to come down, don't you think?'
As I climb down the ladder I'm wishing we had come up with a better plan. There would have been a way to make it work, but I was secretly hoping something would happen. I'm not used to having to do things for myself – not the big things anyway.
Outside, Declan's dad and Will move the heaviest furniture into Declan's garage. Mum still has the bag that I packed for her to take to the hospital. I put a change of clothes into a green shopping bag. At the last minute I also put in Dad's t-shirt, Albert Bear and my pinch pot.
Declan's mum and I stack washing baskets full of clothes in their garage. Bryce Cole's box has been plonked on the front lawn, next to the letterbox. The rolled-up sleeping bag pokes out of the top.
Declan and Willem walk in to the garage carrying parts of the dismantled cot. Declan's mother and Mum exchange a fleeting, horrified glance.
'Er, put it behind that other stuff, can you?' Declan's dad mumbles. He chucks an old blanket over it when he thinks our mums aren't looking.
'They can stay with us, can't they?' Declan says to his mum and dad.
Declan's mother grabs the chain around her neck. She's tugging on it. There's a franticness to it. She's going to break it, or hang herself. She's staring at her husband.
Declan's dad's throat is going a deep beetroot red.
'Where else are they going to go?' Declan asks.
'I'm sure we'll . . .' Mum trails off, because there is no way to finish that sentence. Manage? Does it look like we're managing? We're all sinking into this etiquette quicksand.
'You know, Sue, we could really use your fridge,' says Declan's mum. 'Could we buy it from you?'
'Don't be silly!' says Mum. 'You can use it as much as you like until we come and pick it up. It won't be long – maybe a few weeks.'
'How about we buy it now, and then when you come to collect it you can buy it back from us?' Declan's mum says.
Mum finally twigs that Declan's mum is trying to lend her cash without embarrassing us. 'That would be okay with me,' she whispers.
'It's such a nice fridge.' Declan's mum runs her hand down the handle. 'Do you think five hundred would be reasonable?'
Mum's lip trembles.
'Let's make it a thousand. It has such a lovely stainless
'Are you kids in there?' says a voice.
We sit silently and stare at each other. I'm not really sure what we're supposed to be doing. 'I don't think we've thought this through,' I whisper. 'Are we hiding or are we sieging?'
'Hiding.' From Will.
'Sieging.' From Declan. 'Don't worry, I'm prepared for this.' He gestures for us to stay out of sight, then removes the cover and calls down through the hole. 'I'm diabetic, you ignoramus, and when I collapse Jenna-Belle is going to call Today Tonight. How's it going to look for you when I get dragged out of here on a gurney?'
Then there's some more barely audible talking disappearing down the hallway.
Declan is smiling, pleased with himself.
'Good thinking! That was ace,' says Will with admiration.
A few minutes later the voice is back.
'Declan, is it?' the voice asks. 'How are you going to ring Today Tonight?'
'With my mobile phone,' Declan says, feeling his pockets.
'A blue Nokia with an Astroboy cover? I'm looking at it. Jenna-Belle and Willem, your mother is waiting for you outside. We've removed your furniture and David is changing the locks now. That's going to take an hour or so. You can stay up there as long as you like, but once you do come out the house will be locked, and if you attempt to enter again you will be charged with trespass. You don't want to put your mother through that, do you?'
Will frowns and I can see tears of frustration building in his eyes. He covers his face with his hands. Declan looks deflated and embarrassed. I just feel bone weary.
'I appreciate that this is a difficult day for you kids, but this isn't making it any easier for anyone. It's probably best just to come down, don't you think?'
As I climb down the ladder I'm wishing we had come up with a better plan. There would have been a way to make it work, but I was secretly hoping something would happen. I'm not used to having to do things for myself – not the big things anyway.
Outside, Declan's dad and Will move the heaviest furniture into Declan's garage. Mum still has the bag that I packed for her to take to the hospital. I put a change of clothes into a green shopping bag. At the last minute I also put in Dad's t-shirt, Albert Bear and my pinch pot.
Declan's mum and I stack washing baskets full of clothes in their garage. Bryce Cole's box has been plonked on the front lawn, next to the letterbox. The rolled-up sleeping bag pokes out of the top.
Declan and Willem walk in to the garage carrying parts of the dismantled cot. Declan's mother and Mum exchange a fleeting, horrified glance.
'Er, put it behind that other stuff, can you?' Declan's dad mumbles. He chucks an old blanket over it when he thinks our mums aren't looking.
'They can stay with us, can't they?' Declan says to his mum and dad.
Declan's mother grabs the chain around her neck. She's tugging on it. There's a franticness to it. She's going to break it, or hang herself. She's staring at her husband.
Declan's dad's throat is going a deep beetroot red.
'Where else are they going to go?' Declan asks.
'I'm sure we'll . . .' Mum trails off, because there is no way to finish that sentence. Manage? Does it look like we're managing? We're all sinking into this etiquette quicksand.
'You know, Sue, we could really use your fridge,' says Declan's mum. 'Could we buy it from you?'
'Don't be silly!' says Mum. 'You can use it as much as you like until we come and pick it up. It won't be long – maybe a few weeks.'
'How about we buy it now, and then when you come to collect it you can buy it back from us?' Declan's mum says.
Mum finally twigs that Declan's mum is trying to lend her cash without embarrassing us. 'That would be okay with me,' she whispers.
'It's such a nice fridge.' Declan's mum runs her hand down the handle. 'Do you think five hundred would be reasonable?'
Mum's lip trembles.
'Let's make it a thousand. It has such a lovely stainless
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