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out ‘ left ’ or ‘ right ’?
    Another voice was calling now. It sounded like Gran’s. ‘Beware of the cyclone! Are you alone?’
    And that bell – I wish it would stop ringing –
    â€˜Ish! Answer the phone!’
    I opened one eye. The sun was boring through my window like a laser.
    â€˜Ish, are you awake? I’m in the shower. Molly?’
    I’d slept in. I couldn’t believe it! My opportunity to go fishing on my own and to give myself another chance of meeting up with the ghost had been gobbled up in dreams.
    I threw back the covers and saw Lucky’s bed. It was now the third day since he’d gone missing, and, for a short moment, I’d forgotten he wasn’t there. I ran down the hall to the phone. The panic was still in my chest and even heavier at the thought of him gone. The polished boards under my feet felt like the slippery deck in my dream.
    â€˜Hello?’ My voice sounded like someone else’s.
    â€˜Ish, is that you?’ It was Sylvia, Mum’s friend. There was a lot of crackling on the line, and I could hardly hear her voice. ‘Ish, I need to talk to your grandmother. I can’t talk for long.’
    â€˜She’s in the shower,’ I said. Why was Sylvia ringing and not Mum?
    The phone kept crackling. Underneath the crackling were words I could barely make out. ‘Ish, I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.’ More crackling.
    My heart began to race.
    â€˜Your mum …’ A lot more crackling. ‘… but they think she’ll be all right …’ Crackle. ‘… hospital until she can …’ Crackling again. ‘… can’t come home for a few weeks. I can ring you again tonight.’ Crackle.
    Then silence.
    I stood holding the receiver. I felt numb and suddenly alone. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks. I replaced the receiver into the cradle of Gran’s old phone. What had happened to Mum? I suddenly wanted Dad. I wanted to talk to him, tell him about Mum. He’d know what to do.
    I heard the shower turn off. I wiped my face on my pyjama sleeve and tried to think. Dad was miles away in Sydney and besides, he always changed the subject when I talked about Mum.
    â€˜Who was that on the phone, love?’ Gran stood at the end of the hallway in her dressing gown and a towel around her head. ‘Ish – are you okay?’
    I thought I’d done a good job with my sleeve, but Gran has an in-built emotion detector. Some people are mind readers, but Gran is a heart reader. She can tell a well-hidden feeling a mile off.
    She started down the hall towards me. When she was close enough for me to see the softness in her eyes, more tears came gushing. ‘What’s the matter, love?’ Gran put her arms around me. She smelt of baby powder. ‘Who was on the phone?’
    â€˜Sylvia,’ I blubbered. ‘Some … some … thing’s happened to Mum.
    Gran took my face in her hands. ‘What do you mean, love?’
    â€˜Sh-she’s in hospital.’
    â€˜Heavens! Is she all right?’ The towel had been gradually slipping off Gran’s head and now suddenly fell to the floor.
    I bent down to pick it up for her. ‘It was a bad line but I heard her say she’d ring back tonight.’
    Gran took my hand and led me down the hall and into the kitchen. ‘I’m sure it won’t be anything too serious,’ she said, throwing the towel onto the back of a chair.
    â€˜Can we ring Dad?’ I blurted. ‘How will we find out about Mum?’
    â€˜Let’s wait and get all the news from Sylvia tonight, love. She said she’ll ring. Pop the kettle on while I get dressed, then we’ll have some breakfast.’
    Dad had taken a job in Sydney at the end of last year. It was more money than his old job, he’d explained to me. It wouldn’t be forever. I wanted to go with him, but Mum had said no. Sydney was