Rose by Any Other Name

Author:Maureen McCarthy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: JUV000000
ISBN: 9781741159837
Publisher: Allen & Unwin
Published: 2006-10-31T16:00:00+00:00

Last Summer, Apollo Bay

If Zoe hadn’t gone to bed early that first night, then none of it would have happened. That’s what I often tell myself when I’m looking around for someone else to blame. What happened next seemed like fate . . . but I don’t believe that, either. I’ve always thought that believing in fate was a coward’s way out. I reckon we’ve got to take responsibility for what we do, or give up altogether.

I feel better after my shower, and it’s easy for a while. Ray makes us all a snack, which Zoe won’t eat, but he manages to talk her into some fruit and yoghurt and she picks at it a bit. Ray heads out to work on the car he is fixing for her, and Zoe and I play cards and listen to music. She seems to have forgotten that she wanted to discuss something important so I don’t ask. It’s all okay. In fact, all the weird stuff fades into the background and, before we know it, the day has all but disappeared.

At about seven, Ray comes back inside and washes his oily hands at the kitchen sink.

‘So what’s for tea, girls?’ he jokes. But of course Zoe and I haven’t thought that far ahead. We look at each other and shrug.

‘Just as I thought!’ He pretends to be angry as he pulls open the fridge, pulls out a big fish and holds it up by the tail. ‘Okay, smarty-pants Rose, what are you gunna do with this?’

‘Me?’ I squeak. Hasn’t he heard? I’m the worst cook in the world.

‘Yes, you!’

‘Er . . . well,’ I say, ‘I guess I could . . . eat it?’

‘This girl has her wits about her!’ He chuckles, whacks the fish down on the table and selects a couple of sharp knives. ‘Come on, you two, I need helpers. We’re gunna have ourselves some fancy frog soup.’

So he shows us both how to make bouillabaisse. It’s the three of us in the kitchen, with Zoe and me taking direction. We chop, slice up the fish and vegetables, and joke around in French. He spent time in Paris as a young man and so has the accent down pat, along with a few key words and phrases. Zoe and I aren’t too bad either. Our French mistress at school was a native speaker and a good teacher and we both did well. But, by the time the dish is ready and smelling absolutely divine, Zoe is feeling pukey again.

‘Do you mind if I just go to bed?’ she asks.

‘After dinner,’ her dad insists.

‘I can’t eat, Dad,’ she says, holding her head. ‘Honestly, just the smell is making me feel sick.’

‘You can go to bed if you eat a sandwich.’

Zoe raises her eyebrows at me, as though this is the most unreasonable thing she’s ever heard.

‘Okay then.’

As soon as Zoe is in bed I go outside onto the deck with a magazine. I pretend I’m reading it but I’m really

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