Page 55 of Darling Girls

She nodded. ‘What about you? Why are you still in Port Agatha?’

He grimaced. ‘Backhere, notstillhere.’ He started pulling their beers. ‘It’s an important distinction.’

‘If you say so.’

‘It is,’ he said. ‘My dad passed away six months ago so I came back to help out my mum. I’m recently divorced, so it was a good excuse to get away.’ He put two beers on the counter and started pulling two more. ‘The pub’s on the market now, but we haven’t had a lot of interest, if you can believe it.’ He nodded at the drunk at the bar. ‘I keep trying to convince Larry to make me an offer, but no luck so far.’

‘Kids?’ Norah asked.

‘Dog,’ he replied.

Norah made a low, involuntary noise.

She wasn’t stupid. He was a divorced man in a small town. He’d likely worked his way through the eligible women and was just looking for some fresh meat. Norah wasn’t offended. On the contrary, she was delighted.

He finished pulling the beers, then lifted the hatch on the bar. He picked up the tray of drinks, but didn’t move for a moment. He seemed to be surveying her.

‘I can’t believe I gave you a Caramello Koala.’ He shook his head and sighed, as if disappointed in himself. ‘A girl like you deserves a Toblerone at the very least.’

Norah beamed. It was perhaps the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her.

24

JESSICA

BEFORE

Miss Fairchild’s behaviour became intolerable.

‘You didn’t give her those crackers, did you?’ she shrieked one evening after Alicia had managed to get the most recent foster baby to eat some rice crackers. The baby had refused everything but formula for three days. The irony was, Miss Fairchild hadgivenAlicia the crackers and pressured her to feed them to the baby. After all, it wouldn’t look good if babies lost weight on her watch.

‘You stupid girl! Babies can’t eatthose. Are you trying to kill her?’

There was no point in arguing with her, or defending themselves; it only made things worse. After a while they’d learned just to lower their gaze as if she were an aggressive dog.

‘We’ve had a lot of these crying babies,’ she snarled another time, after they’d cheered upon getting a burp out of a particularly colicky newborn. ‘You three are the common link. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.’

That day, it was noon and she was still in her pyjamas, her greasy hair in a ponytail. As she watched them suspiciously, Jessica found herself wondering if she’d been drinking. It worried her. She’d always been unpredictable, but this was something else.

The first night-time rampage happened on a Monday.

It was after midnight. Jessica had just finished settling a nine-month-old girl called Suzy who’d arrived with insect bites all over her body. Suzy was (quite rightly) incensed by the itch. It had taken an insane amount of rocking, shushing, singing and calamine lotion to get her to drop off in her crib. When at last she did, Jessica thought she would cry with relief.

Then Miss Fairchild burst into the room.

‘Girls!’ she cried, switching on the light.

Alicia and Norah sat up in bed sleepily, shielding their eyes.

‘I’ve been rocking the baby for two hours and she’s just gone down,’ Jessica whispered, holding her fingers to her lips. ‘Can you turn off the light, please?’

‘Can Iturn off the light?’ It was clear from her slurring that Miss Fairchild had had a lot to drink. ‘Well, that’s lovely, isn’t it? I’m the one who feeds you, puts a roof over your head . . .’

Jessica was too concerned about waking the baby to absorb Miss Fairchild’s sloppy rage. She glanced down into the crib and saw that, of course, the baby was stirring.

‘She’s awake!’ Jessica said, her heart sinking.

‘Whose fault is that?’ Miss Fairchild retorted, and she flounced from the room. She never explained what had brought her into the room in the first place, yet Jessica had a feeling she’d got exactly what she came for.