Everything We Keep by Di Walker (good story books to read txt) 📗
- Author: Di Walker
Book online «Everything We Keep by Di Walker (good story books to read txt) 📗». Author Di Walker
Agatha couldn’t stay either. It surprised her how, in only a week, she had lost her ability to tolerate the smell. She quickly followed Tully.
They both reached the back door at the same time. ‘My parents are out here,’ Agatha said. Tully froze and shook her head. ‘I can’t.’
‘Please, Tully.’
It seemed like Tully was taking forever to decided what she was going to do. Finally, she nodded. ‘Okay.’
As they stepped through the screen door that was only partially covered with screen, Agatha said, ‘Mum, Dad, I’m here to get a few things. I have a friend with me.’
Tully moved beside her but didn’t speak. Agatha’s parents didn’t look up.
‘Mum,’ Agatha said, stepping closer and kneeling beside her chair, ‘Mum I’m here for a visit.’
‘Aggie! You’re here. Look Karl, Aggie’s home.’
Tully watched the scene unfold before her, not being able to move or speak.
‘Aggie, someone has been in your room and taken things, I know because I’ve been checking everything, haven’t I Karl. I said I would check.’
‘It’s okay. I moved some things. I can go and check. This is my friend Tully.’
Tully stepped forward and smiled. Edith didn’t look up. In her hands she had a ball of wool that she was unwinding and rewinding, smoothing out parts as she went. Beside her, on the ground was a bag of wool. On the small table on the other side was growing pile of balls of wool.
Edith moved the wool from her hands and slowly disentangled herself from her seat. Agatha rose from beside her. ‘It’s good to see you Agatha. Where have you been? To the shops?’
‘No, I’ve been staying with Katherine. Didn’t Nell tell you?’
‘Nell? Nell? Do we know a Nell, Karl?’ Agatha’s dad lifted his head as if he was going to speak, then returned to what he was doing.
‘The social worker, Nell. She said she was going to tell you I was going to stay with Katherine for a while. This is Tully. She’s a friend.’
Edith put her wool down and moved closer to Agatha, gently placing her hands on each side of her face. ‘You are my sweetheart, Agatha.’
‘I know, Mum. This is Tully.’
Without moving her hands from Agatha’s face, Edith blew away strands of hair that had fallen to the front of her face and looked Tully up and down. ‘What did you say her name was?’
‘Tully.’
Edith held out one of her hands to Tully, who shook it, then carefully wiped her hand on the back of her shirt.
‘Would you two like something cool to drink? Something to eat?’
‘Thanks Mum, but we had breakfast before we came. I brought you something.’ Agatha opened her backpack and took out the packet of gingernut biscuits. She held them out in front of her and waited for Edith to take them.
‘For me?’ her mother asked.
‘Yes. They’re your favourites.’
Edith took the packet and gently ran her fingers over it, as if to smooth it out, an impossible task while it remained full of biscuits.
‘Are you going to play in your room for a while then?’ she asked, looking at the packet, rather than at Agatha.
‘Yeah. I want to make sure everything is there,’ Agatha said.
‘Okay then, I need to . . . ’ Edith began to mumble as she turned away. Neither Agatha nor Tully could make out what she was saying. She had soon resumed her seat, placed the packet in her lap and picked up a ball of wool, continuing as if she had not been interrupted by their presence.
Agatha moved closer to her father, who was pulling apart a large adding machine that he had possibly found on hard rubbish day. He had always gone out searching, in the middle of the night, when people put out their hard rubbish for council to collect the next morning. He hadn’t alone. Agatha often went with him. They would carry treasures back to the house and then go out for more. They would work together in silence, fining things her father would later tinker with. In the last year she had stopped going.
He kept going and would bring back whatever he could carry on his old trolley. Lamps, out of date stereos, televisions that no longer worked, even small refrigerators. Anything electrical, that could be pulled apart, remodelled, rebuilt or used for spare parts.
‘Hey Dad.’
‘Agatha,’ he responded softly but didn’t look up.
Tully stepped closer to Agatha. ‘Maybe we should go . . . to your room . . . ’
Agatha nodded. As they went back into the house, Agatha saw Tully raise her hand to pinch her nose. She felt the heat rise up from the pit of her stomach to her face. ‘Let me go first,’ Agatha said. ‘I know the way. Just watch where you step.’
‘I’m watching.’
When they reached Agatha’s room, Tully grabbed her arm. ‘Are we really going into your room?’
Agatha shook her head. ‘No. She thinks we are. Don’t worry, she’s not going to come and check. Well, not today.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘She’ll remember later, maybe tonight or tomorrow, that I was here, and she’ll come looking for me.’
‘What will she do then?’
Agatha shrugged. ‘Search, for a while, and then get distracted by something and forget she was looking for me.’
In one swift move Tully threw her arms around Agatha, holding her tight. ‘I’m so sorry, Agatha.’
Agatha was stunned. ‘It’s okay. Really.’
‘No, no it’s not. I don’t know what I was expecting but it wasn’t this. I understand now that day, in the rain, why you had to get to Katherine. I understand.’
Tully stepped back and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Agatha dropped her head. She could see it now, all over Tully’s face. She could see what other people see when they have been inside her house.
‘I have always dreaded coming home but at the same time I can’t bear leaving. They’re my mum and dad. It’s like I’m trapped.’
Tully nodded.
‘I don’t want
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