Novels 02 Red Dust (25 page)

Her mother's fragrance had faded over the months until the room had started to smell musty and rank Amanda knew she had to do something. Deciding she couldn't bear to leave her mother's favourite room to become unloved, two weeks ago she had moved her computer onto the desk and claimed the room for her own. After giving it a thorough vacuum and cleaning down all the surfaces, Amanda had flung open the curtains, and set a vase of her Mum's favourite lavender on the table. Her father had been aghast when he saw that she'd moved in, arguing that it was Helena's space and should have been left the way it was.

Once again Amanda realised she should have been more sensitive to her father's feelings before making a decision. She hadn't used the room for a while but then after an argument with her father she'd found solace sitting in the study and after that, she'd kept using it. Tonight she opened the window and sat on the soft couch her mother used to curl up in and read on rainy days. She smiled at the memory of her mother chortling over some book, her feet tucked up under her, her long, dark, wavy hair tumbling over the couch's arm.

There was a photo on the desk of Helena, Brian and a young Amanda in the garden. Amanda could
just
recall the day it was taken. Drought-breaking rains had arrived from nowhere that day and a fierce storm had swept through, cooling the sweltering day. But it hadn't fazed her mum, who'd been wearing a thin cotton dress. She'd danced in the rain, her arms outstretched and face turned towards the heavens as she laughed with joy, with hope. Amanda remembered how her dad had run from the shed and taken Helena in his arms and together they'd delighted in the downpour, while their only child watched from the verandah in wonder.

Fifty-three was too young to die, thought Amanda, tears springing to her eyes. And twenty-two was too young to lose your mum. She buried her head in the soft cushion, hoping to catch a hint of the fading essence of her mother.

Later that night, Amanda woke from a restless sleep, thirsty. Stumbling out to the kitchen to get a drink of water she was alarmed by odd noises coming from her dad's room. She made for the door, but was stopped in her tracks by the sound of gut-wrenching sobs and muttered words. Carefully pushing the door open a crack, she peered in. Standing at the foot of the bed with his back to her was her dad, his shoulders heaving with sobs.

'Why, Helena, why? How could this happen after everything we've been through? After all we did to stay together? How could you leave me now?' he cried, clutching a photograph of Helena, its silver frame reflecting in the moonlight filtering through the open curtain.

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