Chapter 4
CHAPTER
‘Flicka! Flicka!’
Matilda, riding the pony I gave her for her tenth birthday, is twelve years old and in her final year of primary school. Flicka was the name she bestowed on me when she was toddling around her mother’s rental in nappies. Her father is my brother. Her father was my brother.
‘Hey, Tilly.’
After kicking out of her stirrups, Matilda throws herself off her pony and falls haphazardly into my arms. We laugh as we find our balance and, holding her shoulders, I take a step back.
Her hair, an even lighter shade of blonde than mine, is tied in a plait.
Her eyes are blue. Fair skin but no freckles.
‘I swear you’ve grown in the past two weeks.’
She takes off her helmet then raises a hand to measure our heights. ‘It’s possible.’
‘It must be the boarding house food.’
‘Or the books.’ Her smile is enormous.
‘How many this week?’
Lips moving silently, she counts on her fingers. ‘It rained on Sunday and I couldn’t ride Surprise, so three. I’m making my way through Agatha Christie.’
‘You’re done with Jane Austen?’
‘I’ll never be done with Jane Austen.’ She brings the reins over her pony’s head as I pull up the stirrups. ‘I’m up to two times already.’
‘You, Matilda Atherton, were born in the wrong century.’ I take Surprise’s rein. ‘Happy to be back at school?’
She holds her arms wide and turns a circle. ‘I love my school!’ When Surprise shoves her in the back, she laughs.
‘I’ll see you at the gymkhana next week.’
‘It’s expensive to truck Surprise there.’
‘All good.’
‘It’s not really good, is it?’
Matilda is a jumble of confident and fearful, knowledgeable and na?ve. And, much as I try to keep it from her, she worries about my finances.
‘The truck is paid for and …’ I swish Surprise’s tail. ‘Your pony wants to show off.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Positive.’
When I was released from detention, I was seventeen and Matilda, living in Dubbo with Katrina, was almost three.
On the weekends and after school, I’d go to Katrina’s rental to help.
I cooked Matilda pumpkin, read and reread her favourite books out loud, rocked her to sleep, skipped school when she was unwell.
It was more difficult to see her when I was at university, but I called Katrina and FaceTimed Matilda almost every day.
I check my watch. ‘We’d better take Surprise back to the stables. I emailed your year coordinator to confirm I’d be there for the parent–teacher interviews.’
She grins. ‘I love Miss Nelson.’
‘Does Surprise get a school report?’
‘Are you sure it’s not too expensive to keep him at school?’
‘It makes things easier.’
She crosses her arms. ‘That is such a lie.’
‘Would Georgiana have said that to her brother, Darcy?’
Matilda laughs. ‘She said he was the best brother ever.’
‘I’m modelling myself on him.’ Surprise pulls on the rein, trying to get to the grass. ‘There’s nothing I’d want to spend money on more than you.’
Katrina had no partner and little family support after Matilda was born.
For the first few years, she mostly relied on Matt’s life insurance payout to buy and maintain a car, pay the rent and provide for their daughter.
When the money ran out, Katrina was anxious to get back to work and have a social life again.
I found work in the district when I could—at the zoo; with regional councils; on university research projects.
Matilda was five when Katrina and Rob got together and, within three years, they’d had two little boys.
The boys have diabetes and need extra support, so Rob took on the role of primary carer while Katrina worked full time.
Matilda, who excelled in the classroom but spent every lunchtime in the school library, was eight years old when she declared she was different from the other children and didn’t want to go to school.
When she was forced to attend, she ran away.
Katrina enrolled Matilda in a second local school, where she was even more unhappy, so I offered to pay for a private school.
The school suits Matilda academically, supports her emotionally and offers the extracurricular activities she’s interested in: book clubs; ponies and pony club; a debating competition.
At first it was day school, but when Katrina and Rob took a three-month break in South Australia so Rob’s parents could help with the boys, Matilda moved to the boarding house.
Three months turned to six, then Katrina and Rob’s move became permanent.
Katrina gave Matilda choices, but Matilda’s wishes were clear—she’d visit Adelaide in the school holidays but wanted to stay at her school and live close to me.
I promised Katrina I’d continue to support Matilda. But that’s not why I attend parent–teacher interviews, see her on the weekends, arrange activities and sort out holidays. It’s not because I lost my brother, either. I love her, simple as that.
We unsaddle and brush Surprise. ‘Isn’t this your research day?’ Matilda asks.
‘I’ll get back to my waterbirds when I get home.’
‘How is your eagle?’
My brush stops mid-stroke. ‘I couldn’t save her.’
Before I’ve taken a breath, Matilda has wrapped her arms around my waist. ‘I’m sorry.’
I smooth her plait down her back. ‘Some birds don’t make it.’
‘Yes, but …’ Tears fill her eyes. ‘You tried so hard to save her.’
‘Her fledgling is doing well. We’re hoping to release him into the wild.’
‘I like to stay in one place.’
The private school is expensive, but in the past four years, Matilda has gone from hating school to loving it; she has friends and her confidence has grown.
I didn’t expect to be paying school fees on top of my university debt, but Matilda needs stability and support, as well as the love she gets from Katrina and me.
I take her shoulders, shake gently. ‘You’ll be at this school for another six years.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Nothing more certain.’
‘You moved a lot when you were a kid.’
‘That’s how I know how hard it can be.’
‘Grandma’s asking you for more money, isn’t she? She called Mum and asked her for money too.’
‘Katrina didn’t give it to her, did she?’
‘Even if she had money, she wouldn’t give it to Grandma. Mum said she’ll never forgive Grandma for asking for Dad’s money after he died.’
No matter how often I explain to my mother that a pregnant nineteen-year-old needed a life insurance payout way more than she did, she won’t listen.
In the early years of Matilda’s life, Mum was an emotional wreck and rarely saw her granddaughter.
Now Mum lives in Queensland, she sees Matilda even less.
‘That’s between your mum and Grandma. Their problem, not yours.’
‘Can I live with you when I go to university?’
‘You’ll be eighteen by then, so you can live wherever you want, but I’d love to have you close.’
Smiling again, Matilda goes to Surprise’s head and kisses him on the nose. ‘When I’m an English teacher, I might work at this school.’
‘If this is where you’ll be happiest, that’s great.’
‘Where are you happiest?’ She used to remind me of Matt when she lifted her brows and Katrina when she flicked her hair, but now the gestures are her own.
‘With you.’
‘That’s not a place.’
‘Has anyone ever told you you’re pedantic?’
She grins. ‘If you keep working at the zoo, we could live in Warrandale or Ballimore or even Horseshoe Hill.’
‘Long term, yes, but short term …’ I hope my smile looks more confident than the way I feel inside. ‘My contract has ended early, so I’ll be finishing at the zoo earlier than I expected.’
‘Who will look after your birds?’
‘Josie and the keepers will take care of them.’
‘If you don’t have a job, I could move in with you. It’d save on boarding fees and—’
‘Oi!’ I gently tug her plait. ‘I’ve had another job offer. It’s a four-month contract, a full-time role, the pay is good and it might lead to other opportunities.’
‘Where is it?’
‘The bottom of the world. Antarctica.’
Her mouth opens wide. ‘You get to look after penguins? Real penguins?’
‘Morrison Island is between Hobart and mainland Antarctica, so, strictly speaking, it’s the sub-Antarctic, but yes, there are penguins. Millions of them. And thousands of elephant and fur seals.’
‘But …’ She tugs at her lip with her teeth. ‘How do you get there? Do you have to go on a plane? That will be scary for you.’
‘There are two planes, but I’ll get help from a psychologist before I leave.’ I aim for a smile. ‘There’s a ship as well.’
‘When you came on my school excursion to the navy ship, you wouldn’t go down the steps to where we were supposed to have lunch.’
‘I’ve been on ferries since then. Anyway, the psychologist will give me strategies to control my fears in different situations.
’ When I pull the bridle over Surprise’s ears, he opens his mouth and the bit drops out.
‘It’s not definite yet. I wanted to check with you first. I’d have training in Melbourne in late September, then I’d spend a few days in Hobart before going to the island.
I wouldn’t be home until later in January, just before the start of the school year. Do you think we could make that work?’
‘I can write letters! Or will there be wifi?’
‘Morrison lost a receiver in a storm last year and it hasn’t been repaired, so the wifi is limited, but expeditioners have access to satellite phones, and all the bedrooms have their own extension numbers.
They’re not strictly landlines, but they work the same way.
You could call me and I could call you. I’ll be away for Christmas, though, and most of your end-of-year break. ’
Her sigh is dramatic. ‘I’m doing a riding camp in the October holidays, and you know what Mum’s like about Santa—I can never get out of that photo—so in December I’ll be in Adelaide for two weeks.
After that, Binh’s mum has asked if I want to stay with them at their farm.
A lot of kids come back to boarding school early, so I can do that afterwards.
It means I get more time with Surprise and lots of time for reading. ’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I’ll miss you, Flicka, but Antarctica?’ Her eyes are bright. ‘You have to do it!’
‘I’m having a meeting on Wednesday morning with the man who offered me the job. I’ll let you know how I go.’