Three Wishes Read Online Free PDF

hollering, Sister Mulvaney tut-tutting, and everyone pretending not to stare. All of a sudden she just burst into tears. My supervising nurse said, very know-it-all, “Ah the three-day blues, all new mothers cry on the third day.” And I remember thinking, But my goodness, who wouldn’t cry?

CHAPTER 2
    “Die, you little motherfucker.” Lyn squatted down on the kitchen floor and aimed the cockroach spray like a machine gun.
    “Language, young lady!” Lyn looked up to see her stepdaughter, Kara, sucking in her cheeks in a parody of a horrified parent.
    “I thought you were gone,” said Lyn, feeling a bit silly to be caught doing her private Hollywood gangster act. She didn’t normally say things like “motherfucker.” In fact, she generally swore only in situations involving cockroaches or her sisters.
    “It’s escaping!” said Kara helpfully.
    Lyn looked back down to see the cockroach scuttling across the tiles to a microscopic tunnel under the sink. No doubt it would now live a long, happy life and give birth to many thousands of sweet little cockroach babies.
    Lyn stood up and looked at her watch. It was just on nine o’clock. “Aren’t you very late?”
    Kara heaved an exhausted sigh to indicate she could not be expected to cope with yet another imbecilic question.
    “Well, aren’t you?” asked Lyn, because she couldn’t help herself.
    “Lyn, Lyn, Lyn.” Kara shook her head sadly. “What am I going to do with you?”
    Kara was six when Lyn first met her, a girly little girl, with butterfly clips in her curly black hair and skinny arms that jangled with sparkly pink bangles. Her most treasured possession was an extra-large pencil case that she called her “Crafty Case”; it had special things in it like glitter, glue, and chunky plastic scissors. Lyn was allowed Crafty Case privileges, and they spent whole Sunday afternoons together, making cardboard and Paddle Pop–stick creations. When Kara eventually began to find other interests, Lyn kept clinging on, making hopeful suggestions for new projects. She gave up only after that fateful, embarrassing day when Kara ceremonially presented her with the Crafty Case, saying, “Here, now you can play with it on your own, whenever you want.”
    At fifteen, Kara kept her hair dead straight and rimmed her eyes in thick black eyeliner. Some days she slouched for endless hours on the sofa, yawning hugely, like someone suffering from terrible jet lag. Other days she was flushed and glittery-eyed, almost maniacally happy. Her most treasured possession was her mobile phone, which beeped night and day with text messages from her friends.
    Lyn watched as Kara opened the fridge door and stood with one hip at an angle. She stared vaguely into the fridge, swinging the door, and suddenly said, “When did you lose your virginity?”
    “None of your business,” answered Lyn. “Do you want something to eat? Have you had breakfast?”
    Kara turned around with enthusiasm. “Was it really late? Like, embarrassing late? Why? Did no one want to sleep with you? Don’t feel bad. You can tell me!”
    “The apples are good. Have an apple.”
    Kara took an apple. She slammed the fridge door and swung herself up on to the kitchen bench, swinging her legs.
    “Who did Dad lose his virginity to? Was it Mum, do you reckon?”
    “I don’t know.”
    Kara gave Lyn a sly, slanting look over her apple. “I’m going to lose my virginity by the end of next year.”
    “Are you? Good for you.”
    Lyn wasn’t especially worried about Kara and sex. She was fastidious and easily revolted. Just last night Michael had said at the dinner table, “Lyn, I want to pick your brains about something,” and Kara had exploded, covering her face, making him vow to never say anything so disgusting as “pick your brains” ever again.
    Surely she wouldn’t be interested in anything as messy as a penis.
    Lyn opened the dishwasher and began rinsing that morning’s breakfast dishes. Due to the