Wildflower by Monique Mulligan

Author:Monique Mulligan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pilyara Press

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If we kids argue in public or private, you can bet a grown-up will step in. Stop it! Sort it out nicely! But when grown-up couples argue in public, it’s ignored. Everyone in our street knows what’s going on at Acacia’s house, but no one does a thing. No one says Put a lid on it! to Rose or Daryl. Instead, they stickybeak. The women twitch their curtains or blinds – even Mum. They casually stroll out to check their letterboxes or have a chat over the fence. And the men are no better. They have a good look and listen while they water the garden, wash the car, or dig out weeds in the lawn. And then they stand in little groups, pretending not to look and listen, collecting gossip while pretending to mind their business.

This afternoon, Daryl stormed out of the house yelling wish I never set eyes on you and that little bitch. Dad was across the road talking to Mr Jones. Surely, they’d do something? They shook their heads and kept right on talking. Like it didn’t happen.

‘We should say something,’ Mum tells Dad later. I’m supposed to be in bed, but I shrink back against the wall, strain my ears to listen.

‘Barb, I’ve told you. What goes on in someone’s house is their business. It’s the way things are. Like an unspoken code.’

‘What a load of codswallop,’ Mum says. ‘If it’s outside, disrupting the neighbourhood, it’s our business.’

People on our street were curious at first: what’s that noise? What’s going on over there? Now they get on with things, and Rose and Daryl’s fights are part of life on our street. They come; they go. Ignore them, show no interest, and they go away. It’s like a show on telly: The Rose and Daz Show. If you don’t like it, change the channel.

I’m curious too. I want to know what happened and who started it? The same things Mum wants to know when she catches me and Jim arguing. Although, those questions aren’t really the right ones. They never help us work things out; they make us more determined to be heard, to be right.

Me and Acacia also pretend nothing happened, but the questions lurk under my skin. One day, I blurt, ‘Does it bother you when your mum and Daryl fight?’

‘Don’t your parents ever argue?’ she shoots back. Answering questions with questions is another way she avoids talking about things. ‘Anyway, why are you so obsessed with my life?’

‘I’m not!’

‘Could of fooled me.’

‘It’s just that—’

‘Everyone fights sometimes,’ she says. ‘No one’s family is perfect.’

‘But Rose and Da—’

‘I know. I know.’ She crosses her arms over her body like she’s hugging herself. ‘I can’t believe your mum said we could share a birthday party! I’ve never had one before.’ The subject is closed.

Acacia pretends she’s not bothered by what’s going on, but later that day there’s proof that she does. I’m waiting for Acacia, eyes trained on George. I’m worried he’ll swoop. Mum says magpies only swoop in spring, but you never can tell.

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