up in her game to answer. She leaps and then flaps, leaps and flaps.
‘I’m in here!’
Ortolan hunches over the kitchen bench, wrestling with a tin of tomatoes. The kitchen is full of the smell of onions and olive oil, and clouds of steam. Diana’s drawings on the fridge are curling up at the edges. Ortie breaks her cooking to kiss me hello. ‘So, I had to quickly sew what you see out there, because today Diana decided she needed to be a bird of paradise. I don’t think she’s ever seen a tropical bird, but there you go. She’ll probably sleep in that tonight. I hope pasta’s okay. I didn’t have any time to go shopping, so I’m making dinner from whatever’s in the cupboard.’ She hands me the tin and a can opener. ‘Here. This thing has defeated me. Maybe you’ll have more luck.’
I’m grateful to have something to do with my hands. The can opener is rusty, but I get it going.
‘Good day?’ asks Ortolan. Other than talking a million miles an hour, she seems fine.
‘Quiet day. I went over some songs for tonight. Blake and I had a funeral in the backyard.’ I put the open tin of tomatoes down on the bench.
Ortie throws me a worried look. ‘Funeral?’
‘I found a dead tarsier and Blake insisted on giving it a proper send-off.’
‘You as well?’ Ortie peeks into the studio to see if Diana is listening. ‘We found one too, behind our rubbish bins. Well, Diana did. That’s why she was inconsolable last night.’
‘Oh. I thought I’d upset her.’
‘No, it was nothing to do with you. She wanted to bury the tarsier in the backyard as well, but I wouldn’t let her. I made her put it in the bin.’ Ortie tips the tomatoes in the pan. ‘Am I a bad mother? I should have let her have her ritual. It’s the first time she’s seen anything dead, but I didn’t want foxes to dig it up again.’
I think of the dog I saw playing with the dead tarsier.
‘Nah, you did the right thing.’ I watch Diana playing in the studio from the doorway. She’s crouched on the floor grooming herself, her cape spread around her like a puddle of tomato sauce. ‘She seems fine now.’
‘In a way I was relieved she was upset. At least it was a normal response. I wonder sometimes if I’m doing the right thing, raising her so close to Shyness. Half the time she has her head in the clouds. Yesterday she told me she had a conversation with a cat.’
I have to laugh at that. ‘She is normal,’ I say, even though it’s not the best word to describe Diana. ‘She’s just very creative and imaginative, like you. She’d be like thatanywhere. And I’m used to you living so close by.’
‘Diana could have started kinder this year, though. Some people are surprised I keep her at home every day. It’s hard to explain to them that there’s nowhere nearby.’
‘Who cares what people say? You’re a great mum.’ Telling Ortie she’s a good mum isn’t a substitute for saying sorry. ‘I want to apologise again for last night.’
Ortie turns to face me, leaning against the bench. She flaps a tea towel at me. ‘You don’t have to, Jethro. It’s already forgotten.’
I nudge her over so I can reach the stove to stir the sauce. ‘I have a surprise for you. So, ah…Blake is going to ride over here in an hour to babysit Diana so you can come to my gig.’
‘Really?’ Ortolan’s face brightens so instantly I know I’ve done the right thing. I wasn’t sure if she’d like me making plans for her. I thought it was worth the risk, though. She doesn’t get many nights out.
‘I know Blake has never watched Diana on her own before, but I thought it would be all right for an hour or so.’
‘It’s perfect. That’s so thoughtful of you. A few friends were going to pop over for a drink later, so we’ll all come.’ Ortie fishes a piece of spaghetti out of the pot and bites it. ‘Can you get Diana to wash her hands?’ ‘Sure.’
I turn to fetch Diana from the studio, only to realiseshe crept into the
‘I’m in here!’
Ortolan hunches over the kitchen bench, wrestling with a tin of tomatoes. The kitchen is full of the smell of onions and olive oil, and clouds of steam. Diana’s drawings on the fridge are curling up at the edges. Ortie breaks her cooking to kiss me hello. ‘So, I had to quickly sew what you see out there, because today Diana decided she needed to be a bird of paradise. I don’t think she’s ever seen a tropical bird, but there you go. She’ll probably sleep in that tonight. I hope pasta’s okay. I didn’t have any time to go shopping, so I’m making dinner from whatever’s in the cupboard.’ She hands me the tin and a can opener. ‘Here. This thing has defeated me. Maybe you’ll have more luck.’
I’m grateful to have something to do with my hands. The can opener is rusty, but I get it going.
‘Good day?’ asks Ortolan. Other than talking a million miles an hour, she seems fine.
‘Quiet day. I went over some songs for tonight. Blake and I had a funeral in the backyard.’ I put the open tin of tomatoes down on the bench.
Ortie throws me a worried look. ‘Funeral?’
‘I found a dead tarsier and Blake insisted on giving it a proper send-off.’
‘You as well?’ Ortie peeks into the studio to see if Diana is listening. ‘We found one too, behind our rubbish bins. Well, Diana did. That’s why she was inconsolable last night.’
‘Oh. I thought I’d upset her.’
‘No, it was nothing to do with you. She wanted to bury the tarsier in the backyard as well, but I wouldn’t let her. I made her put it in the bin.’ Ortie tips the tomatoes in the pan. ‘Am I a bad mother? I should have let her have her ritual. It’s the first time she’s seen anything dead, but I didn’t want foxes to dig it up again.’
I think of the dog I saw playing with the dead tarsier.
‘Nah, you did the right thing.’ I watch Diana playing in the studio from the doorway. She’s crouched on the floor grooming herself, her cape spread around her like a puddle of tomato sauce. ‘She seems fine now.’
‘In a way I was relieved she was upset. At least it was a normal response. I wonder sometimes if I’m doing the right thing, raising her so close to Shyness. Half the time she has her head in the clouds. Yesterday she told me she had a conversation with a cat.’
I have to laugh at that. ‘She is normal,’ I say, even though it’s not the best word to describe Diana. ‘She’s just very creative and imaginative, like you. She’d be like thatanywhere. And I’m used to you living so close by.’
‘Diana could have started kinder this year, though. Some people are surprised I keep her at home every day. It’s hard to explain to them that there’s nowhere nearby.’
‘Who cares what people say? You’re a great mum.’ Telling Ortie she’s a good mum isn’t a substitute for saying sorry. ‘I want to apologise again for last night.’
Ortie turns to face me, leaning against the bench. She flaps a tea towel at me. ‘You don’t have to, Jethro. It’s already forgotten.’
I nudge her over so I can reach the stove to stir the sauce. ‘I have a surprise for you. So, ah…Blake is going to ride over here in an hour to babysit Diana so you can come to my gig.’
‘Really?’ Ortolan’s face brightens so instantly I know I’ve done the right thing. I wasn’t sure if she’d like me making plans for her. I thought it was worth the risk, though. She doesn’t get many nights out.
‘I know Blake has never watched Diana on her own before, but I thought it would be all right for an hour or so.’
‘It’s perfect. That’s so thoughtful of you. A few friends were going to pop over for a drink later, so we’ll all come.’ Ortie fishes a piece of spaghetti out of the pot and bites it. ‘Can you get Diana to wash her hands?’ ‘Sure.’
I turn to fetch Diana from the studio, only to realiseshe crept into the
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