Pictures of Lily (5 page)

The main entrance to the Botanic Gardens is on the corner of East and North Terrace. I pass through the gates and after a little while, turn right along a path lined with trees and shrubs. A short way off there’s a medium-sized pond covered in its entirety by large, lime-green leaves. A dark-grey statue of a cherub clutching onto a swan sits in the middle. I walk across neatly-mown grass towards the pond and take in the sight of a multitude of tall pink flowers bursting upwards away from the foliage. Lilies. Eagerly I unzip the bag and pull out my camera, stepping away from the pond to survey the scene. Then I zoom in and focus on one bright pink flower, clicking off a single shot. I walk around the pond and dither for a moment before fiddling with the settings on the camera and attempting another shot. I don’t have the confidence yet to take lots of photos in one go. Nor do I have the money to waste on film or developing either, for that matter. But I might do if Michael comes good on his promise.

It’s another hot day, and the morning sun is bright. Not the best light for taking photographs, I muse. Get me, thinking like a photographer already . . . Perhaps I’ll come back later.

I wander in leisurely fashion through the lush green gardens, over tiny bridges and underneath the tallest of trees with the widest of trunks, until eventually I decide to leave the Botanic Gardens and check out the shops.

The pavements are crowded with tables spilling out of dozens of cafés and restaurants, and the chink of cappuccino cups against saucers greets my ears as countless people enjoy lazy breakfasts in the sun. I suddenly wish I was sitting at a table gossiping with a girlfriend, and at that thought, I feel a sharp pang. I don’t have any friends. And I certainly don’t have any here. Not yet, anyway, and for a brief moment the thought of starting at a new school in a few weeks doesn’t seem quite so bad.

Later that day I walk back along the same street, pausing at an Italian café to buy two scoops of lemon and chocolate gelati, then returning to the Botanic Gardens as quickly as possible before the hot sun melts the ice-cream away. After a few mouthfuls, I dig around in one of my shopping bags and check out my purchases. I have bought a new film for my camera, a couple of cushion covers and a purple throw for my bed, plus a poster of my favourite band, Fence. I fancy their lead singer Johnny Jefferson like mad, so if anything can improve the state of my new bedroom, I reckon his gorgeous face can. I also bought my mum a nice candle and some perfume for Christmas. I suppose I need to get something for Michael and Josh, too, but I have no idea what, yet. Finally I take out the photos that I’ve had developed. I couldn’t resist having a quick look when I got them back, but now I want to scrutinise them in more detail.

The first photograph I pull out is of Roy the kangaroo, propped up on one elbow and looking straight into the camera. There’s something quite funny about it. I think my dad would find it amusing. Oh. I can just see the tail of another kangaroo in the background. Bugger, I should have framed it better. I sigh and put the photo to the back of the pile before turning my attention to the next shot. Cindy! She instantly makes me smile. Hmm. I think I might quite like the way I’ve used the focus in this one, with the leaves blurring behind the koala. Not bad. Right, next!

I go through the whole set like this, peering at each shot with a super-critical eye until I’m either kicking myself or feeling mildly pleased. Once I’m done, I install the new film and then I start to go through the set again until I remember my gelati and turn to see that it’s melted away into a syrupy mess.

‘Hey!’

The sound of a male voice makes me jump. I look up to see a man stepping off the path onto the grass. It’s Ben. I almost didn’t recognise him out of his khaki shorts and shirt combo.

‘Hello,’ I call, pleased to see someone I know.

‘I thought it was you.’ He grins as he approaches. ‘Is there a fly in your cup?’

‘Sorry?’

He peers into my ice-cream cup. ‘Ah, it’s melted,’ he says. ‘The look on your face was a picture.’

‘Ohh . . .’ I laugh, realising that my surprise must have looked a bit comical. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Had a few errands to run and thought I’d pop by my favourite place in the city before I head home.’ He collapses down on the grass and cracks open a can of 7-Up. He’s wearing faded black shorts and a turquoise T-shirt with flip flops – or ‘thongs’ as Josh annoyingly corrected me earlier this week.

‘Favourite place?’ I prompt.

He indicates the lily pond in front of us. ‘I love it at this time of year. Hey, nice camera. Do you mind?’ I nod so he reaches for it and fiddles around for a bit before putting his eye to the viewfinder and pointing it at the pond. Then he turns the lens on me.

‘Don’t!’ I cry.

He pulls the camera away from his face, grinning. ‘Why not?’

‘I hate having my photo taken.’

‘Go on, just the one.’ He puts the viewfinder back up to his eye.

‘No. Please,’ I beg, covering my face with my hands.

‘Lily!’ he snaps. ‘Give me a smile.’

I reluctantly drop my hands and tilt my head to one side, shyly. He clicks off a shot.

‘There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?’

‘It was pretty awful.’

He grins and hands the camera back to me, before spying the pile of photographs with the kangaroo at the top. ‘Freddie!’ he exclaims. ‘Can I see?’

I don’t want to make a big deal out of it by saying no, so I manage a slight nod and then sit there nervously while he flicks through the pack, chuckling occasionally and giving me positive feedback. My nerves soon die away and I find myself enjoying his commentary.

‘I absolutely love this one,’ he says eventually, going back to the photo of Freddie.

‘I’m a bit annoyed about the other kangaroo’s tail in the background,’ I admit.

‘Where? Oh, there. You can barely see it.’

‘It still annoys me.’

‘You’re critical, aren’t you?’

I shrug.

‘Is this what you want to do? Photography?’ he asks.

‘I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about it.’

‘Well, I think these are great,’ he reiterates, putting the photos back down on the shopping bag. ‘I’d love to see your next set.’

And in a funny kind of way, I’m already looking forward to showing him.

‘What are you up to after this?’ he asks.

‘I’ll probably head back to Michael’s.’

‘Still finding it hard to call it home?’ He pauses. ‘You’ve been calling it “Michael’s” ever since you got here.’

‘It
is
Michael’s home,’ I reply defensively.

‘It’s yours now, too. Hopefully it won’t be long before it feels like it.’

‘Mmm.’

‘So when did you get your camera?’

‘My dad gave it to me as a leaving present.’

‘Oh, right. That was nice of him.’

‘My dad’s a nice man.’

‘I bet you miss him.’

‘Yes.’ I look away.

‘When did you find out you were leaving the UK?’

‘My mum only told me a couple of months ago,’ I mumble.

‘Blimey, that all happened very quickly.’

‘You’re telling me.’

‘Bet you wish you could have brought a few mates with you.’

I want to skip over that question for reasons I don’t care to explain, so instead I divert attention towards Kay and Olivia. ‘I wish I could have brought my sisters.’

‘I didn’t know you had sisters.’

‘Young half-sisters. And my stepmother is pregnant with a third. I’m going to miss the birth of the baby.’

He gives me a sympathetic look. ‘That sucks.’

We fall silent for a bit until finally he speaks. ‘I should probably set off.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘Home. Do you want a lift?’

The bus was fine, but you can’t beat a lift straight to the front door.

‘Er, could I?’

‘Sure.’ He gets to his feet and I do the same.

‘Actually,’ I hesitate, remembering my reason for being back in the Botanic Gardens, ‘I wanted to take a few more photos. Of the lily pond in this light,’ I add self-consciously. ‘You go on. I don’t want to hold you up.’

‘Don’t be silly, I can wait.’

‘No, really.’

But he sits back down on the grass. I waver for a moment then tell myself, What’s the big fuss? You’re only taking a bloody photograph. I force myself to chill out and walk away from the pond.

‘Am I in the way?’ Ben asks.

‘Yes, actually,’ I reply cheekily.

‘Sorry, sorry.’ He gets to his feet and goes to sit on a nearby bench. A short while later I join him. ‘Are you done?’ he asks with surprise.

‘Yep.’

‘That was quick!’

‘I only took a few shots. Don’t want to waste film,’ I explain, awkwardly.

‘You should have got one of those new digital cameras,’ he says as we set off towards the gates.

‘My dad mentioned them, but I don’t like the way they come out when you print the pictures. Too grainy or something.’

‘Yep, the resolution’s not great. The technology will improve though. It always does. Maybe by the time you upgrade.’

We cross busy North Terrace and head towards Rundle Street. ‘I’m in the multi-storey.’ He points up the road.

‘Are you at work tomorrow?’ I ask.

‘Nope. Back on Monday. You coming in then?’

‘I’d like to. Michael said he might be able to get me a summer job.’

‘That would be great,’ Ben says sincerely.

We’re walking past a pub when I hear my name being shouted.

‘Oi! Lily!’

I whip around to see Josh sitting at one of the crowded tables out on the pavement. Damn, he’s good-looking. Shame he knows it.

‘What are you doing here?’ he asks.

He’s with a group of five other guys and girls, all of whom regard me with curiosity.

I hold up the bags in my hands. ‘Shopping. I just bumped into Ben.’

‘Sit down. Have a beer.’

I glance at Ben waiting on the pavement a few feet away.

‘Hey, Ben,’ Josh calls half-heartedly.

‘Alright?’ Ben responds in an equally lacklustre fashion.

I look back at Josh. ‘Ben was about to give me a lift home.’

‘I’ll give you a lift home,’ he says. There’s a half-empty glass of beer on the table in front of him. I don’t know how long he’s been here, how long he’s planning to stay, or if he intends to keep on drinking, but after another night in on my own yesterday, I don’t want to turn down what might be my last invitation.

‘Do you mind if I stay?’ I ask Ben.

‘Of course not,’ he replies, taking a step backwards. ‘See you on Monday?’

‘Cool,’ I reply.

‘Bye, Ben.’ Josh waves slightly too enthusiastically.

‘See ya.’

My heart dips slightly as I watch Ben walking away. I feel bad about ditching my only friend for a better offer. But oh, he won’t care. And as Josh flashes me a sexy grin and beckons me to the table, all thoughts of Ben fly right out of my mind.

‘There might be one inside,’ the guy still searching for a chair says.

‘Can you get Lily a drink while you’re at it?’ Josh calls after him. Then, to me: ‘What do you want?’

‘Oh, um, may I have a cider, please?’ I wonder how hot they are on underage drinking over here. ‘Thanks!’ I call.

‘No worries,’ comes the good-natured reply.

‘Guys, this is Lily,’ Josh says to the people around the table. ‘My new – what are you? Stepsister? Half-sister?’

One of the girls sniggers.

‘Housemate,’ I reply.

‘That’ll do.’

‘Lou, Alex, Tiff, Brian.’ He points to each of his friends. ‘And the bloke who’s gone to get you a drink is Shane,’ he adds.

‘Aren’t you hot in those jeans?’ the first girl, Lou, asks me.

‘No,’ I reply bluntly. She has long, dead-straight blonde hair and is wearing a lime-green vest which brings out the deep tan on her slender arms. I’m guessing she’s wearing a very short skirt, but the table is blocking my vision.

‘When did you get to Australia?’ the other girl, Tiff, asks.

‘Saturday.’

‘Isn’t it, like, a twenty-four-hour flight or something?’

‘That’s right.’

‘I couldn’t cope with that,’ Lou chips in. ‘Flying’s supposed to really dry out your skin.’ On that note, her eyes flit over my face. I decide then and there that I really don’t like her very much.

Shane returns with my drink and another chair. I thank him and peer into the glass. It’s full of ice.

‘What’s wrong?’ Josh asks.

I can’t help but smirk. ‘You serve cider with ice?’

‘
Yeah
,’ Lou says, pulling a ‘dur’ face. ‘How do you Pommies drink it?’

‘We don’t drink it with ice.’

‘That’s right, it’s all about warm beer over there, isn’t it?’ one of the blokes chips in, sniggering. I feel my cheeks reddening.

‘You’ll be in trouble if you slag off the Pommies, mate,’ Josh says.

‘Aw, are you missing home?’ Tiff asks me, pouting like a little girl.

Shane pulls a face. ‘Why?’

‘That’s what I keep asking.’ Josh slaps him on the arm.

I wonder if I can catch Ben up?

‘Bloody hell!’ Lou squawks, leaping suddenly to her feet.

‘Shit, sorry,’ one of the blokes says, brushing liquid off her (yep, very short) skirt.

‘Get off me, Alex,’ she squeals, batting him away. ‘Stop sloshing your bloody beer around!’

I take a small gulp of air, relieved that the attention has been diverted from me.

The cider, it turns out, is actually very nice served over ice. Not that I could ever see myself asking for it back home. But it’s a hot late afternoon and if the truth be known, I’ve been sweltering in my jeans all week. I still haven’t dared to unveil my pasty white legs. I don’t know when I’ll do that, if ever. I wonder if I can get through the next couple of years wearing trousers?

Hang on, are they going to make me wear khaki shorts if I work at the conservation park?

Noooooo!

‘I know what you’re getting for a birthday present.’ Josh’s singsong voice distracts me.

I twist around to look at him. ‘Hey?’ He pretends to zip his lips. ‘Come on, who’s been talking about my birthday?’ I persist. He steadfastly shakes his head. ‘You can’t say stuff like that,’ I moan.

‘What’s this?’ Lou interrupts.

‘Lily’s birthday is on Wednesday.’

‘Oh, cool. Are you having a party?’ Tiff asks.

‘No,’ I resolutely reply.

‘How old?’ Lou asks.

‘Sixteen.’

‘You’re only sixteen!’ Alex exclaims, as all eyes fall on me.

‘I will be on Wednesday,’ I mutter.

‘I know, it’s mad, isn’t it,’ Josh addresses them, ignoring me. ‘She looks at least as old as us.’

‘Aw,’ Lou says patronisingly. ‘Sweet little sixteen. What are you getting for your birthday?’

‘That’s what I’m trying to find out.’ I stare at Josh expectantly.

‘Do you know?’ Tiff asks him.

‘Yep.’

‘Tell us,’ she urges.

‘Nup.’

‘Tell
me
,’ Lou insists, leaning towards him, ear at the ready. To my annoyance, Josh complies. I see her hand resting on his thigh and my stomach prickles with jealousy.

‘Really?’ she says, looking at me.

‘What? Tell me!’ Tiff pleads.

Lou leans across Alex and whispers into her ear.

‘Aw, that will be so cool!’

‘This is really bloody annoying,’ I say loudly. The next bloke – Brian? – chuckles and pulls Tiff close.

‘Come on, let’s do Chinese Whispers,’ Shane suggests, from beside Brian. A moment later, Shane exclaims, ‘What type of car?’

‘Mate!’ Josh bursts out.

‘Am I getting a car?’ I turn to him, wide-eyed, as he glares at Shane.

‘Oops,’ Shane says sheepishly.

‘Am I getting a car?’ I ask Josh again, my head starting to buzz with excitement.

‘Don’t tell Dad I told you,’ Josh warns me.

‘I won’t, I promise. What sort?’

Josh sighs and takes a swig of his beer. ‘It’s only a second-hand one I’ve been tinkering with at work, so don’t get your hopes up. My dad asked me about it today.’

‘A car’s a car,’ Lou says.

‘I couldn’t agree with you more,’ I respond, beaming from ear to ear.

We sit there drinking and eating bar snacks until the late-afternoon sun dies away and the street lamps come on outside the pub. Talk turns to going to a nightclub.

‘Planet?’ Alex suggests.

‘Yeah, cool,’ Lou affirms.

‘I don’t have any more money on me,’ I murmur to Josh.

‘I’ll lend you some.’ He downs his pint and stands up. Everyone else does the same so I quickly knock back the last of my cider and get to my feet.

Whoa. That was my fourth drink and I am feeling more than a little bit pissed. I stumble out past the tables to the pavement. Tiff skips on ahead, dragging two of the boys with her, while Lou turns around and starts to beg Josh for a piggyback.

‘Go on, then,’ he concedes eventually as we all head down a side street away from the busy part of town. She climbs onto his back, giggling annoyingly. I watch as her long, tanned legs wrap around him.

I wish I had legs like that.

No, Lily, no, you don’t.

Yes, you do.

You’re fine as you are.

Could do with a tan though.

Oh, whatever.

‘She’s been trying to get into his pants for weeks,’ Shane says from beside me. He nods ahead at Lou and Josh.

Here we go again with the jealousy. You’d think alcohol would dull your senses, but if anything it makes it worse. ‘What’s the hold-up?’ I manage to ask.

‘She just split up with her ex. Big, beefy, Army bloke. Josh is scared shitless of him.’ He starts to laugh.

‘What are you laughing at?’ Josh shouts back at us.

‘Nothing,’ Shane replies, still sniggering, then to me, ‘It’s only a matter of time.’

Great. Now I hate her even more.

There’s a queue stretching out from the venue. We tag onto the end and wait until it finally dwindles down to our little party when the bouncer utters those two tiny letters that chill every underage teen to the bones.

‘ID.’

The others reach into their pockets, producing driving licences without a second thought. I stand there, quaking in my Birkenstocks.

‘ID,’ the bouncer says again, when the others have all filed through. I want to shout, ‘Wait!’ But I don’t.

‘I don’t have any with me,’ I reluctantly admit. ‘But I
am
eighteen.’

‘Sorry, love.’

He looks straight past me to the next person in the queue and I know that no amount of persuasion is going to change his mind so I step away from the door. My face burns as everyone stares at me. What the hell am I going to do now?

‘Lily!’ Josh calls to me from the door.

Phew!

‘He won’t let me in. I forgot my ID.’ I give him a meaningful look.

Josh turns to the bouncer. ‘Oh, come on, mate, she’s just come all the way from England. You know what these Pommies are like.’

‘I don’t give a possum’s arse if she’s just come from Buckingham Palace. If she doesn’t have ID, she’s not coming in.’

Josh stares at him, frustrated, then he glances over his shoulder at his mates.

Bollocks to this. ‘Just point me in the direction of the bus stop,’ I snap.

‘Are you sure?’ he asks, looking guilty.

‘Yep. I’ll be fine.’

Of course, I realise as soon as I board the bus that I haven’t got a clue how to find my way home from Crafers. I think it was a long bendy road . . . I should have borrowed Josh’s phone again to call Mum. I rang her a few hours ago to let her know what I was up to. Maybe I should find a payphone. But when I step off the bus, there she is waiting.

‘How did you know I’d be here?’

‘Josh called Michael.’ She leads me to her car. ‘What on earth that boy is doing letting you catch a bus on your own at this hour . . . Michael had a few strong words to say to him,’ Mum says, climbing into the car and slamming the door behind her.

My insides burn with shame. I hate the thought of Josh getting into trouble because of me. Although Lou will be making him feel better right about now . . .

‘You’re alive then,’ Ben remarks when I turn up to work on Monday morning.

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

‘I hope you caught the bus home on Saturday night.’

‘I did actually.’ I don’t want to tell him what happened. ‘Why?’

‘Josh usually drives when he’s had a few.’

‘Oh, right. Pass me the broom, would you?’

I was appalled when I woke up yesterday morning to see Josh’s car parked in the driveway.

‘Did you drive home?’ I asked him. I’d assumed he’d be catching the bus himself.

‘Yeah,’ he replied defensively.

‘When you were
pissed
?’

‘I didn’t have that much to drink.’

‘You bloody did!’

‘What are you – my mother?’

At that point I remembered that his mother was dead so decided to shut up about it, but he’d continued to justify himself. ‘I drank a few beers, but it was over several hours,
and
I ate loads. I felt fine.’

I shook my head in disgust.

‘Don’t tell Dad,’ he urged.

So here I am on Monday morning getting the third degree from Ben.

‘That bloke is a menace behind the wheel,’ he mutters, as he passes me the broom. We’re mucking out the koala enclosures. ‘Are we paying you for this yet?’

‘I don’t know,’ I reply. ‘I think Michael is speaking to Trudy today.’ A little flutter of nerves passes through me. I
so
want a job here.

Good news comes at lunchtime, but my enthusiasm takes a nosedive when Michael presents me with my uniform.

‘Did Trudy say yes?’ I squeal, closely followed by, ‘Do I really have to wear the shorts?’

‘What’s wrong with them?’ Ben enquires, ploughing into his homemade cheese sandwich.

‘I hate my legs,’ I moan.

‘There’s nothing wrong with your legs,’ Michael scoffs.

‘How would you know?’ I whine. ‘You’re practically elderly.’

Ben finds this very amusing.

‘You can talk, you’ll be thirty soon,’ Michael jibes.

‘Not for another two years,’ Ben objects.

‘The time will fly by, you mark my words,’ Michael says knowingly. I just stare down at the shorts in despair.

The next morning my mum waits outside the door to my bedroom demanding a fashion show.

‘Come on, Lily, they can’t be that bad.’

‘They’re worse,’ I cry.

The door handle turns. I leap to the door, holding it closed.

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she snaps.

‘Come on out!’ Michael shouts.

‘I look a right state,’ I shout back. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror on the front of the wardrobe and want to cry. My mum turns the door handle again. I’m too slow to stop her and she bursts in.

‘Go away!’ I squawk, bending down to hide my legs.

‘What are you going on about?’ Mum says crossly. ‘You look fine.’

‘I do not!’

‘You’ll have a tan in a few days,’ she tells me.

‘Not if I keep applying Factor 30 like it’s going out of fashion. I’m so bored of wearing suncream every day,’ I whine.

‘Well, you won’t get any colour if you wear jeans all the time,’ she says. I peek at myself in the mirror, warily, and she senses that my reluctance is waning. ‘Think about what you’ll be able to buy with the extra pocket money,’ she adds.