The Listmaker Read online

Page 12


  The air today was so clear that you could decipher the tallest city buildings far away on the horizon. They looked magical, as though they were carved from blue glass. (Which wasn’t the sort of thing you could have said to Ed Woodley. He claimed you could always tell where the city lay – you just had to hunt around for a layer of smog like thick brown gravy.)

  ‘Hi, Piriel! It’s me …’ I whispered, imagining her somewhere over in that direction, amongst the blue glass buildings. Perhaps she might even have called in to inspect our apartment and was standing on its balcony at this very moment, somehow sensing my greeting. She’d gaze across the wide landscape in between and suddenly think, ‘Sarah. I could have sworn I heard her voice just now …’ It could be happening like that. People who were emotionally close were supposed to be able to tune in to each other’s thoughts and feelings. Telepathy, that was the correct name for it. The first time we ever met, Piriel had said that she knew we’d get along very well indeed. That meant she felt close to me – or at least I hoped it did.

  Telepathy might work with the aunts, too. Once I’d actually moved into town, I could make a point of standing on that balcony every evening and sending a private message in this direction, to Avian Cottage. To Aunt Dosh, watering the garden late in the evening, murmuring to some plant, ‘There, didn’t I say your health would pick up if I moved you over to that corner?’ Bumping her head on the hanging basket of ferns which she always forgot about when she turned off the hose.

  To Aunty Nat in the kitchen, humming along to one of her daggy tapes, wiping tears away with a floury potholder if it was a sentimental song, remembering a phone call she had to make and whisking into the hall to do it, forgetting about the phone call because she’d just noticed the linen cupboard could do with a good tidy.

  Suddenly, the idea of sending secret messages to Avian Cottage wasn’t warm and fuzzy any more. It was somehow sad, like the lost feeling that usually hit me after being dropped off at school by the aunts after a lengthy holiday break. Or even after an ordinary weekend. Mrs H. would be hovering around somewhere on the front steps to welcome everyone back. Tara McCabe said it was only to give a good impression and suck up to all the parents, but I was always grateful for Mrs H. being there on the steps. It meant a person to chat to about what I’d done over the break, an impersonal face to focus on, instead of having to watch the aunts’ car disappear down the long, gravelled drive.

  ‘Come on, Sarah, that tree’s a cinch. It’s safe as a ladder,’ Corrie yelled.

  I climbed unenthusiastically down into their yard. It was hard to keep up with her, because instead of keeping to the paths, she seemed to like plunging through shrubs and jumping over flowerbeds. I followed, wishing I hadn’t made the suggestion about using real water for her ridiculous lighthouse.

  ‘Could have sworn that old dish was lying around here somewhere,’ she said, hunting along the back fence. ‘Or maybe it was down by the creek where I last saw it. That little creek’s fantastic, isn’t it?’

  ‘I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been to see it.’

  ‘But it’s on your own block of land! Crikey, fancy not going to have a look when –’

  ‘It’s Aunty Nat’s block of land, not mine,’ I said, slapping crossly at a mosquito. ‘And it’s going to get dark soon, so now’s not the time to be charging off down there. Anyway, Piriel says they should sell that bush block. They’ve got quite enough garden to look after as it is, without any extra tacked on. It’s only going to waste.’

  ‘Dosh doesn’t think it’s a waste; she’s always mooching around down by that little creek. There’s a tree she likes to sit under and dangle her feet in the water. As soon as she finishes the top part of the garden, she wants to clear away all the dry stuff down there. I said I’d lend a hand.’

  ‘She’s probably only been sneaking off to have a smoke where Aunty Nat can’t see,’ I said even more grouchily, because I’d just found a slug on my good jeans. ‘New Year’s Day was when she gave up. At least that’s what she claims, but she says it every year. She’s been chewing gum instead whenever we watch TV lately, but that doesn’t mean anything much. I just hope she won’t be puffing away at the wedding, that’s all. Piriel hates smoking.’ (Though it wasn’t slugs or mosquitoes making me annoyed. It was really Corrie Ryder knowing things about Aunt Dorothy that I didn’t, offering to help with gardening jobs. Anyone would think it was her aunt!)

  ‘Would it be okay if I watched that wedding from our carport roof?’ Corrie asked. ‘I was going to invite a bunch of kids around so they could, too, but Mum said it might be pushing things, even if Aunty Nat doesn’t have any objections.’

  It wasn’t even up to Aunty Nat, I thought indignantly, but suddenly remembered all the hours she’d spent preparing Avian Cottage for the wedding. If you wanted to chat to her these days, she had to be tracked down through a forest of recipe books. She was at it right up to bedtime, embroidering a new guest towel with wedding bells, polishing doorknobs, worrying about the finished cake. She kept moving it to different high shelves, so it would be safe from Aunt Dorothy.

  ‘You could even chuck us up some party eats if you were feeling generous,’ Corrie said cheekily. ‘No one else needs to know.’

  ‘Everyone will be eating inside,’ I said in an off-putting voice. ‘Aunty Nat’s planned a kind of buffet meal, and I don’t think I could be darting off outside with cakes and stuff. It would look really gross.’

  ‘How about your Little House on the Prairie dress – did that turn out gross, too? Want me to arrange some kind of accident? It wouldn’t be any problem. Spilled paint might do the trick. You could be showing me your dress the day before the wedding, and clumsy me could somehow –’

  ‘Piriel hasn’t actually started it yet, but she’ll get around to it just as soon as she can,’ I said coldly. (Maybe, I thought, that secret message I’d sent winging through the air like a sycamore seed might have planted itself in her mind. Right at this moment she could be thinking, ‘I’ll start Sarah’s dress tonight. There’s a possibility she might be feeling anxious about it. It has to be absolutely perfect, too; a very special dress for a very special person.’)

  ‘Anything Piriel makes is always marvellous,’ I said, and headed back towards the house through the darkening garden. The Ryders’ goat, straining against its long tether, bleated from the Avian Cottage side of the fence. There was a gap in the fence just there, so I kept my distance. That goat had a slobbering habit, I’d discovered, of pushing right up against you, as though you were its long-lost mother.

  ‘Aren’t you going to say hello to Meg?’ Corrie asked, stopping to make a fuss over it. ‘Only it’s more like goodbye, because tomorrow she’s going back to the farm where we borrowed her. They like other goats for company, so it’s not fair to keep them cooped up by themselves for a long time. She just comes and stays with us every now and then.’

  ‘The day we moved in, I thought she must be your sister or something,’ I said. ‘It was when you were handing those scones over the fence. You said you’d bring Meg over to eat our blackberries, only you never mentioned anything about a goat. It sounded more like a person.’

  ‘Well, Dosh talks to her like she’s a real person,’ Corrie said, grinning. ‘Meg doesn’t even seem to mind cigarette smoke, either, though you’ll be pleased to know Dosh has lasted a whole week since New Year. Ed Woodley’s trying to quit, too. So they’ve been stashing what they would have spent on cigarettes in a jar, and whoever cracks first loses out. Aunty Nat’s their banker. I reckon your aunts are lovely. It must feel awful, having to move into the city so far away from them.’

  It was odd, I thought, how quickly darkness fell in mid-summer. Shadows, black as submarines, were gathering under all the trees, stealing across the lawn.

  ‘They’ve been looking after you ever since you were a little girl, haven’t they? Half your luck! My aunts are nice, too, but they don’t treat me as anything special. They’ve all got their own families, so I’m
just like one of the mob.’

  ‘I’ll still be coming out here to visit them.’

  ‘Yes, but that wouldn’t feel the same, would it? Though I guess you can hardly wait to move in with your dad, that’s only natural. And Piriel, too, of course.’

  A whole fleet of submarines, sly as thieves …

  ‘Let’s go inside,’ I said abruptly. ‘It’s dark out here.’

  10 ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙

  Things I could do for the wedding

  Horace – white ribbon bow. (Maybe better put it on while he’s asleep, so he’ll wake up and think it’s always been there.)

  Make a banner for front porch saying ‘Congratulations Piriel and Brett – love from Sarah’.

  Fill birdbath with little floating candles and flowers. (NB Scrub it out first!)

  Disguise eagle ledge with trailing ivy.

  Lock Aunt Dorothy’s room so no one can go in there by mistake and see how messy it is, or make her tidy it up. (NB Hide all the ashtrays, too, just in case she gets tempted.)

  Hide Aunty Nat’s barnacle earrings.

  Plus the bird wind chime Ed W. gave her for Christmas.

  Sprinkle summerhouse floor with petals.

  Put spare chairs in nice places all around the garden (eg fernery, under the willow tree, in the courtyard, over by the rose bed, so guests will appreciate all Aunt D.’s hard work).

  Make Piriel and Dad feel very proud of me (eg try to sound brainy, and not bite nails in front of their friends).

  ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙

  ‘You’ve … shifted in already?’ I asked, clutching the phone a little more tightly.

  ‘Yes, Sarah, at the weekend. They finished everything before schedule, and it seemed a waste staying on in that cramped place of mine with this one ready and waiting. Brett suggested it, actually, when he rang from New York. And it meant that all his stuff could come out of storage, with me here to keep an eye on it.’

  ‘We’ve got some things of his, too,’ I said dazedly. ‘Things he didn’t get around to packing, so Aunty Nat’s minding them while he’s away.’

  ‘Yes, he mentioned that, which is partly why I’ve called – as well as wishing you Happy New Year, of course. Overdue, I know, but I haven’t had a spare minute up till now. Would you happen to know if there’s a chess set among those other items? Your darling dad’s not sure if it went to Nat or the storage firm, so I’m just checking for him.’

  ‘Yes, I remember seeing it,’ I said. ‘The pieces are made out of rock crystal, and the board’s little squares of wood.’

  Squares of silky wood, like a miniature version of the foyer floor at the apartment. I’d imagined that we’d all move into the apartment together, after they’d come back from their honeymoon. Together, we could have decided where everything should go. Dad would somehow find a miraculous way to fit all my things into my room …

  ‘Oh good, I can tick off its whereabouts then. Brett said it was expensive, and we certainly wouldn’t want to mislay it. Maybe one of you could drop it off some time, if you happen to be in town. It might look rather nice on the new coffee table I’ve just bought.’

  I would have made them both coffee after we’d found places for all the furniture. When the last object was in place, we could have sat out on the balcony and watched the city lights, as a celebration.

  ‘I’ve taken today off to get everything straight. There’s still heaps to do, but with a bit of luck everything will be done by this evening. Brett’s timing’s very crafty – being away on the other side of the globe and not having to lift a finger. I just hope he appreciates all my hard labour when he comes back!’

  Disappointments, I’d found, could be dealt with by concentrating very hard on nearby, everyday objects. I stared intently at the ornaments on Aunty Nat’s phone table, as though seeing them for the first time. A jar of her jasmine hand cream, message pad, china pencil-holder (bought because of the seagulls painted on it), lace mat, bowl of daisies, one of Eileen Holloway’s horrible pink ballerinas, a couple of loose wallpaper samples. It was also possible to wallpaper over your feelings, if you had to …

  ‘Oh, I haven’t asked if you’re enjoying the holidays yet, have I, sweetie? How’s the computer?’

  ‘The girl from next-door is having a go on it right now,’ I said. ‘Corrie Ryder, her name is. They don’t have one at their place. I don’t mean I’ve lent it to her or anything; she’s just using it downstairs in my room. She came over with a letter that wound up in their mail by mistake, and she kind of stayed. But she’d go back home again – if I had to go out somewhere …’

  ‘I wouldn’t let anyone else play around with that computer, Sarah. They’re not the sort of thing you actually share. Anyway, must get off the phone now and slave on. The idiots put the couch in the wrong place, and you’ve got no idea how heavy it is to move. Bye, dear. Don’t forget that chess set next time you visit …’

  ‘Piriel, I could bring it in right now and help you arrange the furniture at the same time! I’m not really doing anything today. Can I?’ I gabbled, but a heavy truck rumbled past Avian Cottage. I couldn’t hear what she said, or even know if she’d heard me, because when the street was quiet again, she’d already hung up. I didn’t ring back to check. It seemed stupid, when there wasn’t any need. Of course she’d said yes!

  I hurried downstairs to get ready, even though the aunts weren’t available to drive me into town. Aunt Dosh had gone out with Ed Woodley to choose garden paving stones, and Aunty Nat to keep a hairdressing appointment. It was her six-monthly perm, so I knew she’d be there for hours. There was no way of knowing when Aunt Dosh would get back, either. She was probably driving Ed crazy right now, trying to decide between grey paving stones or brown ones. That could take hours, too. I’d just have to go by train.

  ‘Was it your dad ringing from America?’ Corrie asked. ‘The way you charged up the stairs like that to answer, I thought you’d break your neck! Listen, I think I’ve finally worked out how to recruit more warriors! You could trick them into thinking you’ve got plenty of gold. What you do is …’

  She was just as enthralled by Rulers of Cedrona as I was, even though she’d never played it before. Some of her tactics were wild, but she didn’t seem to mind taking risks, even with the vicious ice-lady ruler in the next kingdom. I’d been sending that ice-lady grovelling messages and all my gold bullion so she’d zap other territories instead of mine. But Corrie, I noticed, was being more creative.

  ‘It wasn’t Dad after all. It was Piriel,’ I said, getting a clean shirt from my wardrobe. ‘There’s something she wants me to take into town for her, to the apartment. She’s moved in early, so everything will be ready and the three of us won’t have to bother about it after the wedding. Good idea, really. What time does the next train leave?’

  ‘About twenty minutes. Aren’t you going to wait until the aunts get home before you dash off?’

  ‘They mightn’t be back for ages,’ I said. ‘I’ll just leave a note where they can find it. Piriel doesn’t take many days off work, but she’s got a free one today. I don’t want to waste hours hanging around here. She’s … expecting me, as soon as possible.’

  That was undoubtedly what Piriel had said, only the truck had thundered past and blotted it out. She’d probably added that she’d be very grateful for my help. I changed my comfortable old sandals for a new pair I hadn’t even worn yet.

  ‘If the next train isn’t an express, it’s quicker to get off at South Moreton and catch the city bus,’ Corrie said, switching off the computer. ‘You probably don’t know about that if you haven’t travelled on the Parchment Hills line before.’

  I looked up, confused.

  ‘Otherwise the trip takes forever,’ she added. ‘You sure they won’t mind you zipping off into town on your own? My mum’s always a bit funny about it, unless there’s a couple of us going in together. Aunty Nat might be even more –’

  ‘If Aunty Nat was here to ask, she’d let me,’ I sa
id abruptly. ‘It’s not tearing off somewhere for the fun of it. I’m running a message for Piriel.’

  ‘I could go in with you, if you like, so you don’t get lost or anything.’

  ‘Thanks all the same, but …’

  ‘It’s no trouble. I’d better ring Mum at the nursery first, but I don’t suppose she’ll put up too much of a fuss. Not if it’s so important. She’d most likely get mad if I didn’t go along with you.’

  Saying that I preferred to go by myself sounded too much like a snub. While she made the phone call, I found Dad’s chess set and wrapped it carefully in a double thickness of padding. I also slipped a scrap of the cloud material in my pocket to show Piriel. Corrie, permission given, ran next-door to make sure their house was properly locked up. I did the same at Avian Cottage, knowing Aunt Dosh could still get in because of the spare key kept hidden under the sundial. Then I waited at the Ryders’ front gate, hoping Corrie would think to tidy herself up. Rumpled old shorts might be good enough for Parchment Hills, but they’d look completely out of place in that apartment block. Piriel might even think I chose to hang around with a thrown-together looking kid who did nothing but chatter!

  Corrie, still wearing the shorts, chattered breathlessly all the way down to the station. Her hair looked like a bowl of tangled spaghetti, and I wondered if it would be too tactless to offer her my comb during the trip. I didn’t get the chance. After we’d found seats, she went to say hello to some kids she knew up the far end of the carriage. While she talked to those other girls, she kept making little gestures at me, meaning that I should move up there and join them. But I pretended not to see and stayed where I was, hugging the chess set.