Angel Creek Page 8

  ‘It was a good thing we took it back to the creek. Imagine if you’d got hold of it, Gino.’ She smiled. ‘What would you have wished for? Super powers? All the money in the world? No, I know. You would have wished for that motorbike that your dad won’t let you have. That Ducati Monster, or whatever it’s called, right?’ She giggled.

  Gino looked away.

  ‘Sorry,’ Jelly said. ‘Tell me. I think I know anyway. You would’ve wished your dad wasn’t so angry all the time, right?’

  Gino shrugged and Jelly squeezed his hand.

  ‘Or that I’d stop bossing you around?’ she said quietly.

  ‘Nah,’ said Gino, punching her in the shoulder. ‘That’s your job. Chief Pain in the Arse!’

  ‘You can talk.’ She punched Gino back and they both burst out laughing.

  Pik sat up. ‘What’s so funny?’

  ‘You, Pik,’ Gino said. ‘Your head’s on backwards. Look!’

  Pik frowned and patted his head and Gino and Jelly snorted with laughter.

  There was a knock on the bedroom door. ‘You kids awake?’ Jelly’s dad called out.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Come downstairs then. We’ve got a surprise for you.’

  The door swung open and light streamed into the bedroom. Both Jelly and Gino’s parents were in the doorway, grinning. Zia Pia had baby Sophia on her hip. Sophia’s cheeks were covered in crusty sores but she was back to her cranky self again, frowning and pulling at Zia’s hair.

  Pik clambered over Jelly’s bed.

  ‘Come and see the tree,’ Jelly’s mum said.

  ‘Presents!’ Pik shouted.

  ‘Yep,’ said Dad. ‘Santa’s come.’

  Zia Pia passed Sophia to Zio Mario so she could cuddle Pik.

  ‘And,’ said Dad, ‘we’ve got an extra special Christmas surprise. Come downstairs and see.’

  They ran downstairs and there, sitting on the couch with a rug over her knee, was Nonna. She smiled and opened her arms wide to fold them all in.

  ‘Careful with you nonna,’ she scolded, as Pik clambered into her lap. ‘You kids send me back to hospital again if you no careful.’

  Jelly let Nonna pinch her cheeks mercilessly and cover her with kisses. Thank you, she said to the angel under her breath. Of all her accidental wishes, this was one she was truly grateful for.

  ‘Well,’ said Dad, clapping his hands together. ‘Who’s going to hand out the presents?’

  ‘Me,’ said Pik.

  They sat down under the tree, three days late, and ripped open their presents. Jelly had a new art set from Mum, a book about birds from Dad, and Zia Pia had bought her a pink lacy bra, which she was quick to hide in the pocket of her pyjamas before Gino spotted it. Zia winked at her and she felt her cheeks burn. Then Gino handed Jelly his badly wrapped package and Jelly did her best to pretend she had never seen it before. But she had no trouble showing her delight when she pulled out the silver heart necklace. She threw her arms around Gino’s neck and he grinned and shook her off.

  ‘You’re the best,’ she said.

  ‘I know,’ said Gino.

  Jelly tossed a ball of scrunched-up paper at him. She handed him his present and he unwrapped the disposable camera. ‘Wish we’d had this a couple of days ago,’ he said.

  They shared a secret smile.

  Pik got a blow-up swimming ring and Gino got a toolkit from his dad, with a real hammer and nails. ‘Thought you might like to start helping me out in the shed,’ Zio Mario said, awkwardly. Gino nodded.

  All the kids got lumpy hand-knitted jumpers from Nonna, like they did every year, but this year they put them on to make her happy. Jelly’s was too big and Gino’s was too small. But Jelly figured it wasn’t Nonna’s fault, it wasn’t just her who saw them that way.

  It may have been three days late but it was the best Christmas ever. Everyone was so happy just to be together and especially to have Nonna home. Finally, they got to finish Nonna’s special cake that had been waiting for them in the fridge since Christmas Eve. When all the dishes had been washed and put away and Nonna was dozing in front of the news in her special chair, like she usually did, it was time, finally, for everybody to go home.

  ‘Bet you’ll miss me,’ Gino said to Jelly at the front door.

  ‘Yeah, I was almost beginning to enjoy that smell in my room,’ Jelly replied. ‘Maybe you could just leave me a pair of your old socks till next time?’

  Gino grinned and punched her arm as he pushed his way past.

  ‘See you, Pik,’ Jelly said, stooping to hug her little cousin.

  He stood on his toes and his breath was warm in her ear. ‘Don’t catch another angel without me, will you?’

  ‘Of course not,’ Jelly whispered back. ‘Though next time we’ll look for dragons, okay?’

  Pik’s eyes widened.

  Jelly giggled. ‘No such thing as dragons, Pik.’

  But he eyed her suspiciously. ‘That’s what you said about angels.’

  Jelly shrugged. ‘You’re right, Pik. You never know.’

  Jelly watched Zio Mario back out of the driveway in his dented car, and smiled as he turned out of Rosemary Street. Perhaps the new house was going to be more interesting than she had first thought. She went upstairs to air out her bedroom.

  19

  a white feather

  That evening, Jelly stood at her bedroom window gazing out at the blackened apricot tree, crumpled over the garden. The light was softening, the cicadas had started up and birds hopped around the apricots strewn across the lawn. She missed the tree. But Dad said they only lived so many years and it was due to come down soon anyway. Tomorrow they would go to the nursery to pick out a sapling to plant in its place. Nonna wanted a fig tree, Mum wanted a pear, but Dad and Jelly had already decided they would put in a flowering eucalypt to attract the cockatoos. They weren’t great for climbing, but Jelly figured by the time it was big enough to hold her she’d be too old to climb trees anyway. Maybe.

  As she turned from the window to get into her pyjamas, Jelly spied someone down at her back fence. She pressed her face against the glass and peered out into the gathering gloom. It was that boy. Waving. Beckoning her to go down. Her heart skipped a beat. She went downstairs and out the back door. Her mum and dad were sitting out on the patio, sharing a bottle of wine and looking out over the destroyed garden.

  ‘Where are you off to then, young lady?’ her dad began, but her mum had seen the boy at the fence and she gave him a gentle nudge. ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Well, okay. But don’t be out when it’s dark.’

  Jelly ran across the garden then slowed to catch her breath before she reached the fence.

  ‘Hey,’ she said, trying to hold back a grin.

  ‘Hey,’ the boy said back. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Fine. Yeah, fine.’

  He glanced over her shoulder to where her parents were watching them. She turned and her mum and dad quickly bowed their heads together to pretend they were still talking.

  ‘Can you come down to the creek for a bit?’ he said. ‘I’ve got something for you.’

  ‘Sure,’ she said and climbed onto the fence. She called out to her parents, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be back before it gets dark.’

  Her dad stood up. ‘You’re not going down to the creek?’

  But her mum put her hand on his arm and he sat down again, his brow furrowing. Jelly gave them a brisk wave and dropped down onto the other side.

  ‘So,’ she said, ‘what is it?’ She hadn’t noticed before but his eyes were as dark as the night.

  ‘Over here,’ the boy said, and they slid down the creek bank. At the edge of the water he lifted up a large piece of bark and underneath was something long and flat, wrapped in brown paper. He pulled it out gently and handed it to her. ‘Merry Christmas,’ he said, smiling.

  Jelly sat down to unwrap the paper. There, lying in her lap, was a white feather, the length of her arm. In the evening light it gleamed silver.

  She gasped. ‘
You saw it?’

  He looked into her eyes and nodded, then blushed. ‘I was sheltering in the tunnel from the rain.’

  ‘You saw the angel?’

  ‘I thought that’s what it was. I saw you carry it into the water. But then it got so bright I could hardly see a thing. I had to close my eyes because of the light.’ He smiled. ‘I knew you were up to something but I had no idea that’s what you were hiding in the shed.’

  Jelly poked her toe into the crumbly dirt. ‘So it was you who pulled me out of the water?’

  The boy shook his head. ‘It all happened so quickly. When I opened my eyes you were already by the side of the creek. I went to get your dad, that’s all. It wasn’t me who pulled you out.’

  Jelly looked out over the creek. It had already shrunk over the course of the day. The water swirled around the rocks the colour of chocolate milk and lapped gently at the bank. So different from the night before. She shivered.

  ‘You think it was the angel who saved me?’

  ‘There was no other way you could have got out of the water. But I don’t think it was your little one, judging by the length of this feather. I reckon it was something bigger. Much bigger.’

  Its mother, Jelly thought, and she realised she had known this all along. She must have been desperate to get her baby back. And all those signs. All those times she was trying to speak to me. How angry she must have been. But in the end, even though we took her baby, she saved me.

  ‘But —but why? I thought if you saw an angel, that meant…’ The thought had become too frightening for words. ‘I thought it had come to take me away,’ she said, looking down at her hands.

  ‘I know. But I think this was a different kind of angel. They’re not the same as the ones you’re talking about.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  The boy ran his hand through his hair. ‘It’s not the first time I’ve seen one like that. I saw one once before. Two years back. The day Johnno drowned.’

  ‘You knew him? The kid that drowned in the creek?’

  The boy nodded. ‘He was my best friend. We were playing in the drains together when the rain came. I should have drowned too. I never knew who saved me. At least not for sure. My grandad told me it must’ve been a creek angel.’ He smiled, and touched the feather gently with his long brown finger. ‘Guess I never believed him till now.’

  ‘A creek angel?’

  ‘That’s what he calls them, anyway. Reckons there are all kinds of angels, not just the ones, you know, that come and get you when you die. He reckons you can find them everywhere. If you’re looking hard enough.’

  Jelly sat and watched the Merri Creek rushing towards the sea. She tried to imagine all the other things that lived in there, other than the ducks and bugs and frogs. Some things even she found hard to imagine. Then she tried to picture a world full of angels and somehow it didn’t feel as crazy as it sounded. She looked at the boy and he smiled at her. Like he knew exactly what she was thinking.

  And she realised it wasn’t only her bad wishes that had come true.

  ‘Jelly, time to come inside now.’ Dad’s voice came from behind the fence.

  Jelly felt her cheeks heat up. ‘Better go,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to push my luck after what happened yesterday. I still have some major explaining to do.’ Jelly stood up and brushed off her shorts.

  ‘Jelly? That’s your name?’

  She laughed. ‘Well, kind of. It’s short for Angelica. It’s my grandmother’s name.’

  ‘Angelica’s a nice name. Sounds like angel.’ The boy smiled and passed her the feather. She tucked it down her T-shirt. She would put it in the top drawer of her dresser, next to the silver locket.

  ‘I suppose so. It just sounds like a grandmother’s name to me. Actually I’ve been thinking of calling myself Ange next year. When I start high school. Jelly’s kind of a kid’s name.’

  ‘Ange is nice. Suits you.’

  Jelly looked down at her feet to hide her smile.

  ‘You starting high school next year?’ he asked as they climbed up the steep embankment.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Northbridge High.’

  ‘Really? That’s where I go.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yeah. It’s not bad. As far as schools go. You’ll like it. I can introduce you to my friends, if you like. They’re all skateboarders, though. Hope you like skateboarding.’

  ‘Yeah, I do. Like skateboarding, I mean.’ She paused. ‘Your friends. You mean Jack and Budgie?’

  ‘Nah, Budgie’s my cousin, that’s all. Our families just hang out over Christmas. He’s okay. Jack’s a bit of a loser, though. It’s not like we hang out at school or anything. You’ll see. That’s the good thing about a big school. Plenty of people to choose from.’

  ‘Jelly!’ Dad called again.

  ‘You’d better go.’

  ‘Hey, what about you?’ she said, turning to face him. In the darkening light his skin had turned gold. ‘You haven’t told me your name yet.’

  ‘My real name—or my nickname?’ He smiled.

  ‘Both. Either. I don’t mind.’

  ‘Well, Giacometti’s my real name.’

  ‘Giacometti?

  ’ He grinned. ‘Named after my grandfather.’

  She laughed. ‘So your nickname’s Jack, right?’

  ‘Nah, that’s what we call Grandad. My friends call me Spook.’

  ‘Spook. Suits you.’ She giggled. ‘Guess I’ll see you round then, Spook?’ She hauled herself up onto the fence.

  ‘Guess you will,’ he said, grinning.

  Jelly’s dad moved away quickly as she came over the fence.

  ‘Dad!’ she frowned. ‘Have you been listening?’

  ‘No,’ said her dad, pretending to be insulted. ‘I was just…on my way to see your nonna. Her light’s still on. Do you want to come with me?’

  ‘Sure,’ Jelly said, leaning into him. ‘I’d like that.’

  ‘I’m sure Nonna would like that, too.’ Her dad dropped his arm over her shoulder and winked. ‘So, how’d it go?’

  ‘Dad.’

  ‘Just asking.’

  Jelly’s dad smiled and pulled her into a hug. Then she slipped her hand into his. They wandered through the gathering darkness towards the small square of light.

  acknowledgments

  For such a small book there are an extraordinary number of people I need to thank. First of all, Penny Hueston for her patience and faith, and Ali Arnold for her incisive editing, done always with the gentlest touch. Chong Wengho for his stunning cover, Susan Miller for the page design, and the whole Text gang for being amazing in everything they do.

  Sallie Muirden was one of my first readers, followed by the fabulous Antoni Jach and my wonderful MC2 writers group: Rachel Power, George Dunford, Kathy Kizlos, Tasha Haines, Jacinta Halloran, Meredith Jelbert, Susan Paterson, Anna Dusk, Jane Sullivan, and Kim Kane, in particular, for her excellent feedback.

  The seeds of this novel were planted way back, during a residency at Varuna, for which I am extremely grateful. To my fellow Varunians: Steve Axelson, Kate Cole-Adams, Sandy Bigna and Fiona Wood, and of course the archangel of Varuna, Peter Bishop.

  Cassandra Austin and Martine Murray are my dearest friends and kindest readers. Andy Griffiths and Markus Zusak keep my chin up when clouds of doubt rumble overhead.

  Thanks also to Jan Robertson and the PLC readers, including: Greta, Candice, Alexandra, Naomi, Kirsten, Caitlin and Thy, for their brilliant feedback and beautiful drawings. Special thanks also to Carmel Hyland and the wonderful Merri Creek Primary students who gave up their lunchtimes to hear me read this story aloud.

  Last of all, but most importantly: my sisters and mother for reading this by the pool in Penang, my darling Max for reading this in the hammock in our backyard and my beloved Raffaele for holding my hand every step of the way.

  Table of Contents

  COVER PAGE

  TITLE P
AGE

  COPYRIGHT PAGE

  CONTENTS

  1. THE APRICOT TREE

  2. SOMETHING IN THE WATER

  3. A PLACE TO HIDE

  4. NONNA

  5. CHRISTMAS

  6. A SILVER HEART

  7. THE BULLIES

  8. TRAPPED

  9. KEEPING SECRETS

  10. THE BROKEN WING

  11. THE STORM

  12. FINDERS KEEPERS

  13. THAT BOY AGAIN

  14. SMALL COMFORTS

  15. THE HOSPITAL

  16. THE BAD THING RETURNS

  17. THE DARK, THE LIGHT

  18. THE POWER OF WISHES

  19. A WHITE FEATHER