I bit my lip, knowing what he meant. Wishing I didn’t.

3 SATURDAY, APRIL

3

SATURDAY, APRIL

‘Seventeen dollars for cereal? But you can’t afford a pair of jeans without holes in them?’

I hadn’t slept more than a few hours since Lina’s postcard arrived. The night before I hadn’t slept at all. I hadn’t called her despite her plea, and I knew she would be angry. I felt awful, sick with shame and confusion, annoyed that I couldn’t just pick up my phone, tap out a generic congratulatory text and hit send. It had been days and I’d tried so many times but I couldn’t do it.

I felt scared. I didn’t know of what, but at three in the morning that was what I felt the most.

Everything was soft around the edges but deceptively, painfully noisy, every sound bouncing off the polished concrete floor and high, blindingly white ceiling. Someone put a fork down on a table across from ours and I jumped, looking around in alarm.

‘I didn’t buy them with holes in them, Mum. The ones with holes in them are expensive. These’re just old. And it’s activated granola.’

‘Well, if you didn’t spend all your money on granola and cigarettes, you’d be able to afford new ones.’

I heard Jack scoff and caught his eye for a second.

‘Activated granola.’ Mum shook her head in wonder, as Jack’s phone vibrated on the table. He picked it up and started tapping furiously, ignoring us. ‘Only in Newtown. And it took twenty minutes to find a park.’

I sighed. I needed to sleep. I hadn’t even ordered the granola—she had—but somehow I was responsible for it, because I’d been running late, because I’d misread the time, and I’d called her at the last minute and asked if we could move brunch closer to the city. I picked up my coffee and finished it in one gulp.

‘Big night last night, Caitie?’ Dad asked.

I didn’t answer, just gave him my best half-hearted smile as I dropped the cup onto the saucer off-centre. I felt sick, couldn’t concentrate. Mum and Dad kept talking and I tried to listen but everything hurt and their voices were so far away.

‘… like a brewery, honey. Seriously.’

‘How’s that job of yours? Have you given any more thought to … ?’

‘Honestly, Caitlin. What should we … ?’

‘… coming down? Is that it?’

I caught the waiter’s eye and flicked my fingers at my empty cup. She didn’t stop, but gave me an understanding nod.

‘More coffee? Really?’

‘… ice? I saw something on A Current Affair.’