Page 23 of Darling Girls

‘Did you actually put him to bed?’ she said, not wanting to be caught out twice.

‘Someone had to. Clearly you and Trish weren’t getting very far.’ This time he didn’t pause for a response. ‘Anyway, the reason I’m calling is that I’ve been searching for information about university scholarships and you mentioned that you might know of some funding?’

‘I certainly do. I can email you some links, if you like.’ Alicia indicated right and made the turn. ‘If anything looks interesting to you, I’d be happy to help you fill out an application.’

‘Yeah, maybe.’

‘Cool,’ Alicia said. She gave him a minute to see if there was anything else. When he didn’t speak, she asked: ‘Is there anything else I can do for you?’

‘Nope,’ he said. ‘That’s it.’

‘Okay.’ Then, on a whim, she said, ‘Hey, Aaron . . . you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I wondered . . . what happened to your parents?’

It wasn’t a question she typically asked – partly because, if the kid was one of her cases, she already knew, and in those instances where she spent time with a kid who wasn’t one of her cases, she tended to avoid it as the answer was usually loaded. She wasn’t sure what made her ask now. When Aaron paused, she worried that she shouldn’t have.

‘My mum has never been capable of looking after me,’ he said finally. ‘She has an intellectual disability, and some physical disabilities too. No one knows who my dad is. My gran raised me until three years ago, when she went into a nursing home.’

Alicia felt her breath catch. ‘Your gran raised you?’

He was quiet for a moment. ‘Her name was Doris. Good name for a gran, right?’

‘Great name for a gran,’ Alicia agreed. She felt both sad and happy at once.

‘She died six months ago.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Vale, Doris.’

‘Vale, Doris,’ Alicia replied.

Aaron ended the call and Alicia pulled to the side of the road. She felt emotional, which was hardly surprising after the day she’d had. What was surprising was that the particular type of emotion she felt in this very moment wasn’t the terrible type. The brief interaction with Aaron had left her feeling . . . whole. Connected.

Looking out the window, she wasn’t exactly shocked to find herself outside Meera’s house. This happened from time to time. She’d be setting off for home and, without planning it or making the decision to go there, she would end up idling her car out the front, as if by muscle memory, as if her body just knew where she wanted to be.

Meera was a colleague of Alicia’s, a child protection lawyer. ‘One of the heroes,’ Alicia always said. Alicia fancied her, of course. Everyone fancied Meera. Whenever Meera was in court, everyone was mesmerised by her intelligence, passion and commitment to her job – not to mention her long legs, dark hair and deep brown eyes.

She and Alicia were friends. If Alicia had got out of the car and tapped on the front door, Meera would have been happy to see her. She’d smile and roll her eyes and say, ‘What’s up, Anne Shirley?’ (an old joke about Alicia’s hair) then invite her inside. For a brief moment, Alicia considered doing this.

There was a light on in the living room. Meera was probably on the couch in her leggings, hair in a messy bun, laptop on her knees. They’d spent plenty of nights side by side on that couch, working or hanging out.

One particular night stood out in Alicia’s mind. It had happened just over a year ago. They’d been discussing a six-year-old girl named Kasey whose foster family had been petitioning to adopt her when, at the eleventh hour, Kasey’s biological father had come out of the woodwork, wanting custody. It wasn’t an unusual case and yet, while listening to Meera explain the merits of each petitioning party, Alicia had found herself overcome with emotion. Alicia had always known Meera was a caring lawyer. She knew she wasn’t the type to just do what was easiest. But the lengths that she’d gone to in this case moved Alicia. It made her wonder how different things might have been if someone like Meera had been looking out for her and her sisters all those years ago.

At some point during Meera’s speech, Alicia grabbed her face and kissed her. It was a peck at first, but soon they were rearranging their limbs, and the file of carefully ordered paperwork was sliding off Meera’s lap and onto the carpet. Alicia had been taken aback by Meera’s enthusiasm. Having spent her adult life seeking out dysfunctional, commitment-phobic and even abusive partners, Alicia hadn’t known what to do with reciprocated attraction. And so she ended the kiss, apologised for crossing the line, and had shut Meera down any time she’d tried to bring it up ever since. There was no point in entertaining the idea of a relationship. It would never work out long-term. How could it?

Alicia started driving again, taking the scenic route home from Meera’s place along the river. No one was about. It was the still of night – dark, cool and perfectly silent. As she drove, Alicia felt the heaviness of life closing over her. This happened from time to time. She’d be going along just fine whenwham– a darkness descended, bringing with it a certainty that life wasn’t worth living. That she wasn’t worthy.

Alicia’s gaze veered to the river. She imagined taking a sudden, sharp turn. Her car would barrel over the grass towards the water. There would be a rush of adrenaline followed by the slow calm of her chassis submerging. Alicia wouldn’t try to claw her way out. She’d just close her eyes, revelling in the intoxicating feeling that soon it would all be over.

But not yet.

Alicia drew her eyes back to the road, her hands clasping the wheel tightly at ten and two. She wouldn’t do it. She couldn’t do it to her sisters. Anyone else,everyoneelse, yes. But not to them. They’d both gone through enough.

11

ALICIA

BEFORE