Everything We Keep by Di Walker (good story books to read txt) 📗

Tully pointed to a large pile of magazines on a small table, next to one of the armchairs. ‘That’s Dad’s mountain of magazines, well that’s what Mum calls it. She says that he’s only allowed to have that table or else he’ll turn into a hoarder. He loves bike magazines.’Again, Tully laughed.

Agatha looked at the pile but didn’t laugh.

The flicker of the television screen distracted her from the small table of magazines. Tully flicked through until she found the channel she was looking for. The two sat back in the sofa, ice-creams in hand and watched. ‘I’m glad you’re here, Agatha,’ Tully said.

‘Me too.’

10

Later in the evening, Tully’s mum came into the TV room. ‘Agatha, I’ve tried your aunty’s number a few more times and there’s still no answer. How about you stay overnight, and we can try again in the morning. She must be out with friends, maybe for dinner or something. Did you want to call your parents and let them know?’

‘I can’t,’ Agatha replied, thinking quickly. Going home was not an option for her and she certainly didn’t want Tully’s mum driving her there, seeing where she really came from. ‘They’re away. That’s why I’m going to my aunty’s. They left this morning.’

Celeste leaned against the door frame; her arms gently folded in front of her, her head tilted to the side. Agatha could tell her lie hadn’t been convincing enough. Nell has a similar expression when she knows the truth is being hidden from her.

‘That’s a great idea,’ Tully said. ‘My bedroom chair is a fold out bed. You can stay in my room.’

‘Great. That’s settled. Fifteen minutes, Tully. Then it’s bedtime.’ Her mum left the room, sliding the door closed behind her, pausing a moment, looking directly at Agatha.

Agatha let out a long, slow sigh.

The fifteen minutes was soon up, and Agatha followed Tully back to her bedroom. ‘The bathroom is next to my room. We have to share it with Ike, but he doesn’t use it much. He hates brushing his teeth. It drives mum mad!’

For the second time that day, Agatha unzipped the suitcase, slowly and opened it. The contents had moved and merged from the day of travel from the fall on the train. Immediately, Agatha could feel the panic rise in her, heating her face, making her fingers shake.

‘What’s wrong?’ Tully asked, her voice telling Agatha that she had noticed the sudden shift.

‘Nothing . . . nothing . . . I just need to . . . ’ Agatha hands moved swiftly, taking things out, rearranging. Tully bent down to help.

‘We can put it all out on my bed to sort it. Let me . . . ’ Her hand moved towards a fruit cup in the corner of the case and before she could stop herself, Agatha slapped her hand away. Tully recoiled.

Horrified at what she had done, Agatha dropped what she held in her hands and turned to Tully. ‘I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I did that. I’m sorry Tully.’

Tully’s eyes darted back and forwards, from the fruit cup to Agatha. ‘It’s okay. I’m sorry. I should’ve asked.’ She moved back, ever so slightly and crossed her legs in front of her, folding her arms around, hiding the small red mark that had appeared on her hand.

‘What’s wrong, Agatha? What’s happened? Let me help you.’

Agatha couldn’t look at her. She shook her head, letting her hair fall to cover her face. Her hands returned to the suitcase, rearranging, smoothing out each item as she did. The silence stayed heavily between them.

‘Knock, knock. You two ready for bed? I’ve bought some sheets and a pillow.’ If Tully’s mum sensed something was not quite right, she didn’t let on.

‘Thanks Mum,’ Tully said, getting up and taking the sheets from her. ‘I’ll make it up.’

‘Okay. You’ll show Agatha where the bathroom is?’

‘Already have. Night.’

Agatha didn’t turn around but in the reflection of the window she saw Tully take the sheets, put them on the chair then return to give her mother a goodnight hug.

With the door closed, the two girls continued on in silence; Tully making the bed and Agatha finding her pyjamas and zipping her suitcase closed. Several minutes later, under the coolness of the ceiling fan and the soft glow of the fairy lights, Tully and Agatha lay on their beds, neither knowing what to say.

Finally, Tully broke the silence. ‘I have to go to school tomorrow. I’m sure my mum will take you to your aunty’s.’

‘Okay.’

‘Don’t worry about before. It didn’t hurt.’

‘Sorry.’

‘Don’t be. Night Agatha.’

‘Night Tully.’

Agatha turned onto her side, away from Tully. She knew it was more than a slap of the hand. She knew exactly what had happened. She was becoming her mother. She clenched her fists and pulled her arms up over her head, as if to block out the thoughts. This wasn’t going to be as simple as leaving her home behind her. ‘The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,’ her mother had said one time when she and Agatha had argued about more and more things being piled up in Agatha’s room.

It seemed to Agatha that hours must have passed since they had said goodnight to each other. The clock on Tully’s desk told her differently. It was only forty-five minutes. Agatha sat up. She looked over to Tully who was sound asleep. Deftly she pulled back the sheet that had been covering her and got up from the bed. Sneaking to the door as quietly as possible, she turned the handle. Through the small crack she could see the kitchen light streaming down the hallway, stopping just before the bathroom door. Agatha could hear the hushed tones of Tully’s parents. She stepped into the shadow.

‘All I’m saying, Ed, is that something isn’t quite right. It’s a feeling I have. We don’t know anything about this girl.’

‘But does that matter? I mean she’s about Tully’s age, and besides, what else can we do? We can’t just toss her