House of Sticks by Peggy Frew Page B

chair. ‘But your kids,’ he said through a mouthful of pizza, ‘they’ll be thanking you when they’re geniuses won’t they? Or’ — he swallowed loudly — ‘or they’ll be blaming you when they turn out as hopeless as me, despite it all!’ He gave a sort of wide-mouthed hoot, exposing his broken teeth, wagging his head and slapping his knee.
    She stared at the piece of pie in her fingers. A muted, embarrassed rage swelled in her, and still she couldn’t seem to wipe the pathetic smile from her face. Just get up and walk out . You don’t have to listen to this .
    â€˜So I’ve got this meeting with Grant,’ said Pete without looking up from the paper. ‘In Fitzroy. Can I take the car, Bon, or will you need it? It’s just that it’s easier to park than the van. I’ll be back by three.’
    She put her uneaten pie down and watched Pete sitting there in such untouchable peace. Her eyes pricked at the injustice of it. ‘Take it, that’s fine,’ she said.
    â€˜I’ll need some money for parking.’ Pete leaned back and felt through his pockets. Then he got up and went over to the pottery dish that sat on the windowsill. ‘Did you take all the coins from here, Bon?’
    â€˜No.’
    There was a pause. ‘Funny. I just put a whole lot of gold coins in here last week.’ He checked the dish again. ‘At least I thought I did. Never mind, maybe it was the kids.’
    â€˜How much was it?’ She was keenly aware of Doug across from her, hunched over his pizza.
    Pete was rustling through the piles of papers on the bench. ‘Nothing here.’ He glanced at the clock. ‘I’d better get going. I’ll have to stop and get some change from somewhere.’ He came back past the table, pausing to kiss her. ‘See you later.’
    She stood up. ‘I’ll check if I’ve got any change in my bag.’
    â€˜See you later, Douggie,’ said Pete.
    Still chewing, Doug bobbed his head. ‘Bye, Boss,’ he said. ‘Knock ’em dead.’
    Bonnie followed Pete down the hallway. He opened the front door and waited on the step as she got her bag from the table and dug through it. She found two twenty-cent pieces and a one-dollar coin, and held them out to him. ‘Pete,’ she said in a low voice.
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜Shh.’ She glanced behind her, moved closer, reached up to murmur right in his ear. ‘Those coins. I don’t think the kids took them.’
    Pete’s eyes flicked over her shoulder, and he lowered his voice as well. ‘How do you know?’
    â€˜I’d know if they did. They never keep a secret for long.’
    â€˜So, what’re you saying?’ he whispered. ‘Douggie did it?’
    â€˜Well?’ She lifted her shoulders. ‘What else could’ve happened to them?’
    Pete looked down the hallway again. ‘I’ve got to go. Let’s talk about this later.’ He started towards the street.
    â€˜Pete, wait.’ Bonnie held out the money.
    He shook his head. ‘It’s not enough. I’ll just stop and get change somewhere.’
    Bonnie watched him get in the car and drive off. She closed the door and stood in the dark hallway.
    She hid in the bedroom, fiddling on her acoustic guitar, and when Jess woke she went straight out with the pram, walked aimlessly up and down the shops, buying milk and bread and a slab of parmesan cheese. It was cold. Jess got sick of being in the pram and cried. Bonnie tried to ring Mel but got her message bank. She couldn’t think what to say so she hung up.
    At a quarter past three she went back home. The car was there. The kitchen still, the wrappers from the lunch scattered on the table. The back door shut.
    She looked in the pottery dish. One lonely ten-cent piece, some rubber bands and a broken fridge magnet. She went to the twins’ room