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brokensomething, too, when I’d told her it felt as though she wanted to get rid of me.
    â€˜Do they break things?’ I asked. ‘You know, just drop them out of the blue?’
    â€˜I don’t think Mum’s ever broken anything,’ Rachel said, ‘but she rear-ended a parked car. I don’t think that was love though. It was more like new contact lenses. She got the contacts just after she met Terry—she thought glasses made her look older. So you could say love caused it, in a roundabout way.’
    â€˜I’m never going to fall in love,’ Helen said. ‘Never in a million years. It makes you do stupid things. My mum started singing. You know, really singing, while she did anything. It was embarrassing. And they’d have these really long phone calls. I could never get on the Internet.’
    Mum sang. But she’d always been a shower and morning singer. That’s why we had the CD player in the kitchen.
    â€˜That’s because they’re happy,’ Sarah said. ‘I think it’s beautiful.’
    â€˜But you can say that, Sarah, because your mum and dad are still married. You’d be saying something different if they got divorced and your mum got a boyfriend.’
    â€˜So when you say happy,’ I interrupted, ‘do you mean just happy, or happy happy?’
    â€˜Happy happy,’ Helen said immediately. ‘You know, take-aways because who can be bothered, singing, new clothes, smiling the secret smile all the time.’
    Had Mum been happy happy, or just happy?
    When Mum met me at the bus she didn’t look any different. She just looked like the same old Kate. She even had her painting gear on. That didn’t seem to indicate boyfriend evidence. She looked, well, messy and paint-dabbed.
    â€˜How was camp, sweetheart?’
    â€˜It was great,’ I said. ‘And I’d like you to meet my new friends. This is Helen-Sarah-and-Rachel, my mother, Kate.’
    â€˜Well, girls, I am pleased to meet you!’ Mum said. ‘You’ll all have to come over soon for afternoon tea.’
    â€˜That would be cool, Mrs ... I mean, Kate,’ the girls chorused in their Helen-Sarah-and-Rachel voice, and I knew that camp had been truly great.

CHAPTER
EIGHT

    In the middle of the best week of school ever, Helen invited me to her house for a sleep-over. We were practising netball. Sarah and Rachel were sitting on the grass talking about boys.
    â€˜Saturday night?’ I repeated, fumbling a defence I should have got. ‘Saturday night? I’ll have to ask Mum.’
    â€˜My mum works at the TAFE, too,’ Helen said. ‘She said she’d look out for your mum in the staff room and introduce herself. She works in Access.’
    â€˜I don’t think Mum goes to the staff room.’ I wasn’t sure but it didn’t feel like the kind of thing Mum would do.
    â€˜Everyone goes to the staff room,’ Helen said.‘That’s where the coffee is. You know what they’re like about coffee.’
    Sure enough, when Mum got home from work that afternoon, she said, ‘I met the mother of one of your new friends, Millie. And she says her daughter has asked you to sleep-over. Is that great or what? You’ve got a better social life than me!’
    â€˜I won’t go if you’re going to be lonely,’ I said. ‘It’s okay, honest. I can see them at school.’
    â€˜Don’t be silly,’ Mum said. ‘Of course you’ll go. You want to go, don’t you?’
    â€˜Yes, yes I do. But I don’t...’
    â€˜I’ll be fine,’ Mum said. ‘We’re finalising things for this exhibition anyway, the one I inherited? I told you about it.’
    â€˜Oh, sure.’ I couldn’t really remember but that was okay. If Mum had work to do, she’d be fine without me.
    â€˜And then,’ she continued, ‘I might go to the movies.’
    â€˜By