PROLOGUE
Belle (Age 7)
We made him cry before he gave in and said why he hadn’t been at school for a month. Marley Anderson’s mum was killed in a car accident. As soon as he told us, I remembered. Dad was quiet that day when he picked me up from school. The news story had been on the radio, and all over the papers that get delivered to our letterbox for at least a week.
A big truck lost control and squashed her car against the barrier. She didn’t have a chance at making it; that’s what Dad said when I asked him about it. Right before Mum stole the newspaper and told me, “Little girls shouldn’t be interested in depressing shit like this.”
I wish it was her. I wish it was her car that had been squashed against the concrete, not Marley’s mum’s.
Marley’s mum was nice. She was at the parents’ day, helping him with the activities our teacher set up. She helped me ice my cookie because my mum didn’t come.
My mum never comes. She’d rather stay home and drink. At least she won’t be home anymore now that she’s leaving.
Marley told me it’s not fair, that his mum died. Said he missed his mum and that she wasn’t supposed to leave him. I said life isn’t fair; my mother tells me that a lot, although I never really believed her until today.
My favourite boots scrape across the dry ground as I swing back and forth under the big branch, the rope creaking overhead with my weight. Mum makes Dad sad; that’s why I hate her the most. I don’t mind when she makes me sad, because I don’t love her. But Dad loves her, and I love Dad. Life isn’t fair, and neither is Mum.
The branches of the tree above me sway with the wind. The dark clouds in the sky tell me we’ll get rain, especially when I can hear thunder in the distance. I like storms. Mum says it because they’re miserable, like me. But I don’t think that’s right. Storms are powerful, proud. They’re strong, and I’m not strong. So they’re not like me.
“I’ve tried everything, given you everything, and yet here we are doing the same fucking dance. I’m done. Had it.”
If I was strong, I wouldn’t cry when my dad raises his voice. I wouldn’t cry because it means that he’ll be sad after, when Mum is drunk and asleep. I hate it when he’s sad because I can’t do anything to make him happy. He cuddles me, wipes my tears and tells me he loves me. But I wish he didn’t love her too. If I was strong enough, he wouldn’t need to love her too. He only loves Mum because I can’t make him happy.
“What are you doing out here, dove?”
I smile at Zeus as he walks across the yard. He’s Dad’s best friend. They’ve known each other since they were kids like me, I think. He’s nice. He makes Dad happy, just not how Mum should.
“They’re fighting again.”
“It’ll be the last time, I promise.” He lifts my coat, holding it out for me.
I hop off the rope swing and walk over to him, slipping my arms inside. It’s warm because he held it against him on the way out here. It smells like him.
“Who is that man?” The stranger turned up before Mum and Dad started fighting again. It must be his fault.
“Nobody.” Zeus looks sad. Maybe Mum makes him sad, too?
“Why is he here?”
“Your mum is going to live with him.” He squints a little. “Didn’t your dad tell you?”
“I thought it was just a story.”
I like Zeus. He’s big, and big people make me feel safe.
“It’s not a story.” He sits on the side of the deck and pats the wood beside him.
I climb up and tuck myself in next to him. He blocks the wind, and I feel warm. I like being warm, especially with Zeus.
“Will she come back?”
“Do you want her to?”
“No.” My answer upsets Zeus for some reason. He frowns at me, putting his strong arm around me and pulling me in tight.
“Dove….”
“Will Dad be happy now?”
“I hope so.” He stares across the yard as the cool breeze kicks up the dead leaves.
“Do I have to go inside?” I don’t like the man in the business suit. He’s strange. I don’t know any men who wear those kinds of suits—not in real life. Dad wears coveralls, and Zeus wears bright yellow shirts that are always covered in mud.
Those are the kinds of men I trust. Men like Dad and Zeus.
“I don’t think so.” Zeus smiles at me. He’s handsome. I heard my mum say it once to a friend, but she made it sound like a bad thing. I don’t think it’s bad. “How about I keep you company out here until he’s gone?”
“Okay.”
“What should we do?” he asks. “It might rain soon, so we might have to go in anyway.”
“I can swing until then. You can push me.”
“Okay.” He lifts me by my waist and sets me on the ground so I can go to the swing.
I climb onto where the rope knots around the piece of wood, balancing just right so that I don’t fall off. Zeus stays close just in case I do anyway. He likes to keep me safe, unlike Mum.
I got a ride home from a policeman once. Mum came to get me from school because Dad had to stay at work. She never comes to get me, so I don’t think she knew she couldn’t drink that day. It scared me a little when she hit the road sign, but the policeman said it could have been worse. He was glad it wasn’t.
Mum slept through dinner that night. I think that’s why she didn’t argue with Dad. He did everything for me. Made my favourite. It was weird when he sat in my room while I slept, but I think he was just happy that I was okay. I made him happy that day.
I overheard him tell Zeus, “The bitch could have killed her.” I think the bitch was Mum.
Normally Mum goes on holiday when her drinking is too bad, but she didn’t this time. Maybe she got enough rest at home? She slept a lot.
Marley said he wishes his mum was just asleep. I do too. Then she could wake up and make Marley happy again.
I wish my mum would go to sleep and never wake up.
Maybe then Dad and I would be happy too?
“Ready?”
I smile at Zeus and nod. “Yep.”
At least we have him. Zeus makes us both happy. Maybe one day Zeus can live with us instead. I think that would make Dad happy. It would make me happy too.
Zeus plucks a dandelion flower as I kick my legs, and hands it to me when I swing near to him.
“Make a wish, dove. Make it a good one.”
I lift the stem to my lips, knowing exactly what I want as I watch him come and go beside me.
I want for everyone to be happy.
I pull in a deep breath and blow; the fluffy pieces get whipped away on the wind. Perfect.
“What did you wish for?” Zeus asks as the first spots of rain tickle my face.
“It’s a secret.” If I tell him, it might not come true. And I want it to come true.
I want Zeus to make us all happy.
One day.