go in there.â She was smiling now. âBut you can help by getting into the kitchen and making some tea. Your dad could probably do with a cup. I know I certainly could.â
Tea! That was Aunty Karenâs solution to everything. There was not a problem large enough that could not be solved with a good cup of tea. Not teabags, mind you. She wouldnât touch those with a ten-foot pole. Proper tea was made in a pot with loose leaves.
âI can do that,â said Josh, relieved.
âGood boy.â Aunty Karen headed back down the corridor. âJust sing out when youâre done,â she called over her shoulder, âso you donât have to come in here.â Then she disappeared into the bedroom.
Josh heard the murmur of voices and then a groan of pain from his mother.
He quickly scurried off to the kitchen, not wanting to hear anything else, and put the kettle on. He got the teapot and the loose leaf tea from the back of the pantry, a proper china cup for Aunty Karen and a âWorldâs Greatest Farmerâ mug for Dad. Then he got a couple of ordinary cups in case the RFDS people wanted some.
He carefully spooned the leaves into the pot and added the hot water (not boiling) just like Aunty Karen had taught him. He waited exactly three minutes and then poured.
Taking the mug and china cup, he walked out into the corridor.
He stopped, listening. There was a strange sound. He wasnât sure what it was at first.
Was it � A baby crying? Croaky. Weak.
Josh smiled. He was a big brother at last. Twelve years was a long time to wait. Not that a baby would be all that much fun at first. They pooed and vomited and cried a lot. But they eventually got bigger and more fun. It wouldnât be too long before he had someone to play with ⦠and boss around.
Thatâs what big brothers are supposed to do , thought Josh.
He continued a little further down the corridor.
The cry was cut short, replaced by urgent, anxious voices and the sound of frantic movement.
Josh froze. His heart skipped a beat. Whatâs going on? he wondered.
He stood and waited, tea in hand,listening intently for some clue as to what was happening. A combination of the chilly night air through the window his aunt had left open and his own worry made him shiver. He wasnât sure how long he waited there. It could have been mere minutes, but it might have been a lot longer. His sense of time had disappeared, replaced by fear.
The bedroom door burst open and Aunty Karen came rushing out. She went straight for the storage closet, retrieved a small travel bag and disappeared into the room.
Josh stepped back and leaned on the wall, legs feeling weak, and held his breath.
Dad came stumbling out of the room, weighed down by something in his arms.
Thatâs Mum! Josh realised.
Mum looked like she was awake, arms around her husbandâs neck, face buried in his shoulder. She was sobbing. Josh suppressed the urge to run to her. He would just be in the way.
Aunty Karen was following, carrying the bag, which looked like it had been hurriedly stuffed with clothes. They rushed past, paying him no attention.
Dad kicked the screen door open. The bang as it hit the old weatherboards made Josh jump. Tea sloshed onto the floor. He edged down the corridor to the open window and peered out.
Dad carried Mum into the ute and then waited by the door. Aunty Karen put the bag on the back of the ute.
Moments later the RFDS people camerushing out of the bedroom and down the corridor. The woman carried a bundle, some sort of mask with tubes pressed against it. They hurried out to the ute and squeezed in. Dad jumped into the driverâs seat and the vehicle roared to life, the noise cutting through the silent night.
The wheels spun in the dirt and the ute took off into the dark at top speed. Josh continued to stare into the night as Aunty Karen came back inside.
âLet me have those,â she said,
Tea! That was Aunty Karenâs solution to everything. There was not a problem large enough that could not be solved with a good cup of tea. Not teabags, mind you. She wouldnât touch those with a ten-foot pole. Proper tea was made in a pot with loose leaves.
âI can do that,â said Josh, relieved.
âGood boy.â Aunty Karen headed back down the corridor. âJust sing out when youâre done,â she called over her shoulder, âso you donât have to come in here.â Then she disappeared into the bedroom.
Josh heard the murmur of voices and then a groan of pain from his mother.
He quickly scurried off to the kitchen, not wanting to hear anything else, and put the kettle on. He got the teapot and the loose leaf tea from the back of the pantry, a proper china cup for Aunty Karen and a âWorldâs Greatest Farmerâ mug for Dad. Then he got a couple of ordinary cups in case the RFDS people wanted some.
He carefully spooned the leaves into the pot and added the hot water (not boiling) just like Aunty Karen had taught him. He waited exactly three minutes and then poured.
Taking the mug and china cup, he walked out into the corridor.
He stopped, listening. There was a strange sound. He wasnât sure what it was at first.
Was it � A baby crying? Croaky. Weak.
Josh smiled. He was a big brother at last. Twelve years was a long time to wait. Not that a baby would be all that much fun at first. They pooed and vomited and cried a lot. But they eventually got bigger and more fun. It wouldnât be too long before he had someone to play with ⦠and boss around.
Thatâs what big brothers are supposed to do , thought Josh.
He continued a little further down the corridor.
The cry was cut short, replaced by urgent, anxious voices and the sound of frantic movement.
Josh froze. His heart skipped a beat. Whatâs going on? he wondered.
He stood and waited, tea in hand,listening intently for some clue as to what was happening. A combination of the chilly night air through the window his aunt had left open and his own worry made him shiver. He wasnât sure how long he waited there. It could have been mere minutes, but it might have been a lot longer. His sense of time had disappeared, replaced by fear.
The bedroom door burst open and Aunty Karen came rushing out. She went straight for the storage closet, retrieved a small travel bag and disappeared into the room.
Josh stepped back and leaned on the wall, legs feeling weak, and held his breath.
Dad came stumbling out of the room, weighed down by something in his arms.
Thatâs Mum! Josh realised.
Mum looked like she was awake, arms around her husbandâs neck, face buried in his shoulder. She was sobbing. Josh suppressed the urge to run to her. He would just be in the way.
Aunty Karen was following, carrying the bag, which looked like it had been hurriedly stuffed with clothes. They rushed past, paying him no attention.
Dad kicked the screen door open. The bang as it hit the old weatherboards made Josh jump. Tea sloshed onto the floor. He edged down the corridor to the open window and peered out.
Dad carried Mum into the ute and then waited by the door. Aunty Karen put the bag on the back of the ute.
Moments later the RFDS people camerushing out of the bedroom and down the corridor. The woman carried a bundle, some sort of mask with tubes pressed against it. They hurried out to the ute and squeezed in. Dad jumped into the driverâs seat and the vehicle roared to life, the noise cutting through the silent night.
The wheels spun in the dirt and the ute took off into the dark at top speed. Josh continued to stare into the night as Aunty Karen came back inside.
âLet me have those,â she said,