Chapter 2
Sophie glanced at the clock as she put an apple into each of the lunch boxes on the kitchen bench.
How was it already ten past eight? She looked over at the table where Jasmine was putting the finishing touches on a drawing of a dragon, her vegemite toast untouched, while Harvey slurped Rice Bubbles, milk dribbling down his chin. He sniffed heavily.
Sophie reached for a tissue. ‘Come on, kids. We need to get a wriggle on.’ She wiped his nose. How long had Harvey had that cold now? It felt like weeks. ‘Keep eating, Jaz, or the drawings will have to go away.’
Duke, their staffie, sat by her side, watching as she reached for her own vegemite toast.
‘Where’s Charlie?’ Sophie asked.
‘On his iPad,’ Harvey said, husky-voiced.
Sophie sighed. Ever since his twelfth birthday, Charlie had been pushing boundaries. ‘Charlie! Come and have breakfast!’ she called as Ryan walked into the kitchen, shirtless.
‘Can you iron this?’ he said, passing her a crumpled shirt.
‘Oh ah …’ Sophie bit her lip. ‘I ironed five on the weekend. They’re hanging in your wardrobe.’
He paused, tilted his head to one side. ‘I want to wear this one.’
‘Sure, okay,’ she said, giving him a tight smile.
She pulled out the ironing board while Ryan spooned protein powder into the NutriBullet. She was pressing the collar when Charlie appeared.
‘You’re not meant to be on the iPad before school,’ she said, then she noticed the stricken look on his face. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Doctor Foley—’
The whirr of the blender drowned out the end of his sentence.
‘What did you say, Charlie?’ Sophie asked when Ryan turned the machine off, careful to conceal her irritation.
‘I said, Doctor Foley died,’ Charlie repeated.
Sophie frowned, picturing Rob Foley, tall and broad, with kind eyes and a year-round surfer’s tan. Ryan’s head snapped up, his dark eyes moving from Charlie to Sophie then back again.
‘I like Doctor Foley,’ Harvey said, sniffing again. ‘He gives me jelly beans.’
‘Well, he won’t be giving you jelly beans anymore,’ Charlie said.
‘Why not?’ Harvey asked.
Charlie rolled his eyes. ‘Cos he’s dead!’
‘Charlie!’ Sophie said. Recently she’d noticed he was lacking in the empathy department. Was it normal or something to worry about? She wasn’t sure.
‘Well he is!’
‘Where’d you hear that, mate?’ Ryan asked.
‘Leo Berry told me. We were playing Minecraft. I said see you at school, and he wrote back that his pop died so he’s not going to school today.’
‘How awful.’ Sophie shook her head as she repositioned the checked fabric. Rob Foley must have only been about sixty. ‘So young.’
Jasmine looked up, frowning. ‘Young?’ Sixty must seem ancient to a ten-year-old.
‘Too young to die, I mean.’ Sophie sighed and put poor Doctor Foley out of her mind. ‘We need to get going. Get your lunch boxes and go do your teeth.’
They filed out.
‘You need to find your library books, Harvey,’ she called after him. ‘One was called Cops and Robbers, and the other one was about motorbikes. Jaz, can you help him look, please?’ She clicked her tongue at the sight of Charlie’s lunch box, still sitting on the bench. ‘Charlie! Your lunch box!’
He returned with a sheepish smile. As she passed it to him, a sharp pain spasmed in her wrist. He thanked her, oblivious, and disappeared.
She grimaced, holding her wrist gently with the other hand.
It had been three days since the incident with the bar stool but it still hurt when she turned her hand a particular way.
She glanced over at Ryan who was watching her.
When the pain subsided, she exhaled and picked up the iron again. Sensing Ryan’s close presence, she looked up to see him standing in front of her. He reached for her hand and drew her wrist to his lips, gently kissing the sore spot.
‘D’you think Nel Foley will come back for the funeral?’ he murmured, his face so close she could smell the earthy protein powder on his warm breath.
‘Maybe. I guess so,’ she said. He held her gaze. ‘What do you think?’ she added. He liked her to be unsure. She passed him the shirt and glanced at the clock again. He’d be late if he kept talking.
He rubbed his chin. ‘I reckon she will.’ He started to go, but then turned back, brushing a blonde lock from her face and tucking it behind her ear. ‘It’s all ancient history,’ he whispered. ‘We’ve got nothing to be worried about.’