Six Bedrooms by Tegan Bennett Daylight

something important to say. She stood there, like a horse with her beautiful thick black mane of hair, still, and tamed.
    â€˜I’ll see you tomorrow,’ said Darcy, unable to think of anything else to say.
    She nodded again, waited until he had let go of her hand, and then turned away.
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    Because it was Thursday there was a staff meeting and his father would not be home. Usually they arrived about thesame time and Darcy would go round the back, letting himself in with the key under the cat’s bowl, straight past the kitchen and up into his room so he wouldn’t have to talk. But today would be quiet; he might sit with his mother and have a cup of tea, do his study at the kitchen table.
    For a second he thought the tall figure at the table was his father, and braked to step back out of the kitchen. But it wasn’t; it was Evan. He turned round to see Darcy. He’d shaved weirdly. It looked like he was growing a goatee. Their mother was pouring him a cup of tea.
    He raised his eyebrows at Darcy. ‘G’day,’ he said.
    â€˜What are you doing here?’ said Darcy, dumping his bag on the lino.
    â€˜Came to see Mum,’ said Evan.
    â€˜Ask for money more like,’ said Darcy.
    Their mother frowned at him. Her purse was on the table – there was no use pretending.
    â€˜Where are you staying?’ said Darcy, sitting down, and accepting a cup of tea.
    â€˜In the city. Got a flat in Woolloomooloo. With some of Karina’s friends.’
    â€˜Who’s paying your rent?’
    â€˜None of your business.’
    Darcy smiled to himself, and sipped his tea. Evan was not like him. He was stuck to their parents; not free, likeDarcy, who would be gone the second he’d finished the HSC. He had $550 of his own money already, not to mention Noor’s.
    Their mother wouldn’t sit down. That was normal. Mostly at dinner she hovered behind the kitchen counter, eating scraps out of the pans. She was thin, with papery skin and eyes that came out slightly, that you could see when she stood side-on. Like a fish or a frog, their father said.
    â€˜For your information,’ said Evan, ‘we’ve both got jobs. We’re going fruit-picking in a few months. I’ll quit the flat. They pay for your board. We’ll make enough money to last us all year.’
    â€˜Fruit-picking?’ said Darcy. ‘Where are you going to do that?’
    â€˜Young. We’re already registered.’
    Darcy was impressed, he had to admit it. ‘When do you start?’
    â€˜Just before Christmas.’
    Evan grinned at him triumphantly, and Darcy stared at him. He chewed on the Iced VoVo his mother had passed him.
    â€˜Do they do it every year?’
    Evan rolled his eyes. ‘No, dickhead. Only one year – this year. Then there’s never gunna be stone fruit ever again.’
    Darcy ignored him. He was planning. He couldn’t wait to tell Noor.
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    He caught up with her on the way to English the next morning. She was walking with Jordan. He tried to shove Jordan to one side, and get between them. He hated her. She had a witchy, pointed face and freckles. Since Year 7 she’d been famous for her horrible, high-pitched giggle. Her older sister Taylor had teased him so badly when he first started school that he’d had to stop taking the bus for a while and get lifts home with his father. She was a friend of Karina’s.
    â€˜Dar-cy, you dick!’ Jordan screamed at him, shoving him back.
    â€˜I just want to talk to my girlfriend,’ said Darcy. He stepped round and stood in front of Jordan, so she couldn’t get past. ‘Is that okay?’
    Noor took his hand and tried to draw him away. ‘I’ll talk to you later,’ she said to Jordan.
    â€˜Tell me how it goes,’ said Jordan. She was sneering at Darcy, and getting her phone out. She started texting as they walked away.
    â€˜How what goes?’ said