Disappearing Home Read Online Free PDF Page A

to?’
    â€˜Second.’
    â€˜Where’s the suit?’
    â€˜Right at the back of the rail.’
    â€˜What size?’
    This is stupid. She’s already put the suit where I can find it. I want to scream. ‘Six to twelve months.’
    â€˜Good. Don’t bag it if anyone’s looking. Try to get it as quick as you can, on the paper.’
    Upstairs, I head straight to the christening rail. The bag is unzipped. I take a look around. The shop is much busier than before and tangerine lips is nowhere to be seen. I find the suit exactly where we left it, check the size; slip it inside the bag. One of the pearl buttons gets stuck in the zip and I try to pull it out. I free it, but the button hangs by a thin thread like a wobbly tooth.
    When I look up there’s a lady staring at me, eyes wide. What amazes me is that I see her looking but still shove the suit inside the bag like I think she can’t really see me or something. She looks at me, mouth open. I hurry away from her as fast as I can, bump into another lady with a pram.
    â€˜Watch it!’ she shouts after me.
    â€˜Stop, thief!’ a woman’s voice behind me shouts. ‘That kid’s got something in her bag.’
    I look nowhere but straight ahead. On the third stair down I feel a tug on the hood of my coat. I get yanked back one, two stairs then fall down on my bum. I stand up and hurl the bag down thestairs. Nothing falls out, another tug at my hood. I wriggle out of my coat sleeves, take the stairs two at a time, scoop the bag up on my way. At the bottom, a quick look behind, tangerine lips on the stairs, a duffel coat held high in her hands. I head for the door, bump into children queuing for the rocking horse.
    â€˜Watch it, you!’ a man’s voice shouts after me. Everyone looks. My heart feels like it’s grown a new thud.
    Once I am outside I hear Mum’s voice.
    â€˜Robyn. Over here!’ I spot them on the other side of the road. The bones in my legs feel like they’re dissolving. ‘Run,’ I scream. They bolt away across the road. I’m behind them, running as fast as I can, holding the bag tight against my chest. I don’t look back.
    We knock at Joan’s house and she opens the door with a huge smile on her face. ‘Come in. Wasn’t expecting company. Have to excuse the mess and the smell, but with so many lads. It’s their feet.’
    They tell me to sit down on the settee while they talk in the kitchen. Mum takes the bag with her. Up on her walls there are pictures of the Virgin Mary and Jesus. Mary’s red heart is on the outside of her clothes, decorated with a row of flowers. She has red lips and blue, gazing eyes. Flames leap from her heart and she looks so sad. On the bottom of the picture it says, Bless This House.
    Knots of laughter drift in from the kitchen. My shoulders ride up towards my ears, hands together between skinny knees.
    Finally, they come out.
    â€˜Who’s a clever girl then?’ Joan beams holding the christening suit up high. ‘He’ll look like an angel in it. A few stitches and we’ll have that button on good as new. Thanks, love,’ she says, patting my knee. ‘You did good.’
    Mum hands money to my dad. He pushes it into his pocket.
    â€˜Well, got to get going, get this one a drink.’
    Joan hooks the christening suit over the frame of the Virgin Mary. It covers her face. She sees us to the door.
    I look back at Joan and she smiles. ‘You did good,’ she says. It doesn’t feel good stealing things. Good to me is sitting for a whole day with Nan telling me stories, or getting all of the washing to fit on the line with just a few pegs. This is the kind of good I want back.
    After tea I fall asleep on the chair. When I wake up I hear Dad talking about me, so I don’t open my eyes.
    â€˜She nearly messed up on us today. More trouble than she’s worth. She was too interested in that