The Serpent's Skin by Erina Reddan (top 5 books to read .txt) 📕

never lie and Aunty Peg’s calendar was as reliable as the sun—and now there was one true thing less in the world.

I caught Tessa’s hands to stop them flying about and putting little knives into me.

Dad was curved over the steering wheel, like he’d been yarding up cattle for a month, one foot in the car and one foot out.

‘Don’t move the curtain, Monkey,’ said Tessa.

Philly rolled her eyes. I’m not a baby, she was saying. I didn’t reckon Dad was going to notice a bit of lace fluttering, ten yards away inside the house. He wasn’t even paying attention to Doll, who was dancing about the car door and barking her head off.

Dad fell himself out of the car and we didn’t need binoculars to read him up. He was as slow as Old Mr McKenzie, who barely got to Mass once a month. He put on some speed for us though as he came through the laundry and threw the mail on the kitchen bench, all pretend energy, hiding all that sad in him. He sent a quick look around the room where Philly was lining up sauce bottles in the cupboard, I had the end of the broom and Tim was brushing down the hearth. Tessa didn’t need a cover to be in the kitchen.

‘Hi, Dad,’ we chorused, as if we’d been rehearsing.

He grunted. Tessa pulled him out a chair, then took his dinner off the stove with a tea towel.

‘Dad?’ gasped Tessa, letting the plate clatter to the table. There was a red shape like Tasmania beside his left temple that was starting to bruise up. We all swooped in to investigate.

‘Just a scratch.’ He pushed us away, straightened the plate, picked up his fork, daring us. ‘Rosary Tuesd’y night, funeral Thursd’y.’

Tessa ran to the freezer. Philly dropped to the ground and crawled under the table. She squeeshed herself up into Dad’s lap as Tessa got back with ice wrapped in the tea towel. He waved it away. ‘Knocked my head on the car door. It’s nothin.’

Looked something to us.

He made way for Philly. She laid her cheek against his chest. Despite the extra trouble getting his arms around her, Dad shoved in a mouthful of meat.

‘Going to be a shiner,’ I said. That damned car door. It was better than somebody socking him one, though. Which was a stupid idea because nobody would have a reason to hit him when he was just visiting hospitals and funeral parlours and stuff.

He grunted, threw in another mouthful.

We watched as he drank his food back like it was a bottle of beer. When he was done, he shoved his plate away and sat back, an arm around Philly. She hadn’t moved an inch.

‘Did you speak to the hospital, Dad?’ asked Tim.

‘Yep.’ He slid Philly off and went to the fridge, hunching over the opened door, his back to us. He clenched up his fists and pumped them open and shut. Tessa and Tim’s eyes widened, but they didn’t look at each other. I looked at everyone.

‘What about Aunt Peg? How did she take it?’ I asked, my breath not coming out.

He reached in for a tinny and came back to the table, pulled the ring right off in one go. ‘Dropped around.’ He tipped back his head to take a long gulping swallow. It was like the beer was alive in his throat.

‘Then?’

‘Said she’d known since they were kids that Sarah wasn’t going to make old bones.’

I was nearest, so I took Philly’s hand.

‘She’ll be up on the train Sund’y and stay for the funeral.’

‘Isn’t she supposed to be having an episode?’ I asked.

‘She’s better,’ Dad said. ‘Been on her feet since yesterday, when your mum—she was out when your mother had the attack. Didn’t know anything about it. Thought your mother had come home.’

Tessa refused to catch my eyes.

‘Your aunt took it bad. Thinks it was her fault. Like her having a turn made your mother die. Mad talk.’ He flicked a crumb from the table. It shot right by my arm, soared into the air and landed on my sock. ‘She’s got it in her head there was no episode and she never saw ya mother.’

Tessa gave me a triumphant look, which she squashed quick smart before somebody caught her.

‘So I don’t want none of you buggers buggin her about it.’

A DEFINITE LIE

Dad was in a right stink. Sal had picked that moment to get down to the business of birthing. No manners. I felt the empty Mum-space scrubbing at my insides. Not even the sight of the heavy old sow swinging low and full of piglets from one side of the pen to the other made a difference.

‘Git around her on the other side,’ Dad said.

I chased the other pigs away and gave Sal a slap towards the birthing pen.

‘Watch it,’ said Dad as a couple of the others nosed at my bum. ‘Come behind, come behind.’

Doll set up a bark from the fence, busting to get in with us and get at the herding.

‘Away with ya,’ Dad yelled, flicking his hand towards the milk shed. Doll backed off a couple of steps then came back sharp as Sal shoved past me, stumbling me and then pinning me against the wall.

Dad waved his arms, roaring at the top of his lungs, giving Doll, who was barking like mad, a run for her money.

Me pinned and petrified, a bunny in a spotlight. Sal was squashing the breath out of my lungs and didn’t even know it. Dad came in fast. He leaped over the other pigs, pulling his belt off as he came. He whacked into Sal, then got his shoulder to the back of her and heaved her off me. She squealed like we’d stuck her with a knife and took off. I ran to the fence and rolled under quick smart.

Dad fell against the wall, catching his breath, then flicked his belt