Read Online The Mimosa Tree by Antonella Preto - Free Book Online Page B

sure.’
    â€˜Then you are making a mistake,’ says Dad pointing his finger at me. ‘A woman without children is not complete.’ He pushes his cup away in disgust. ‘Get my lunch,’ he says and Mum goes to the kitchen while Dad takes up his spot in front of the TV.
    â€˜Siena doesn’t have children,’ I say to Via.
    â€˜And look how that turned out. Your father is right. Becoming a mother is the greatest thing a woman can do. Now stop being stupid and get dressed. Siena is waiting.’
    â€˜I am dressed,’ I say and Via looks me up and down in disbelief.
    â€˜Well at least brush your hair.’
    â€˜I am dressed and I am brushed,’ I say, and I fold my hands against my chest to show her I am not budging.
    â€˜Are you afraid of looking attractive?’
    â€˜I look fine,’ I say, though it’s hard to keep up the bravado.
    â€˜You look like a, like a...’ She pinches at the air as though the description she is looking for could be found there, then gives up. She swipes her hand under her chin to let me know she’s done with me.
    Mum comes back from the kitchen. She ruffles my hair, pinches my face firmly between her thumb and index finger. ‘Beautiful,’ she says and kisses me on the head.
    â€˜Lunch is in the oven!’ Mum shouts to Dad over the blaring TV and a single raised finger tells us that he has heard.
    Via and Mum rush out the door, exchanging details of what they are planning to make for their husbands’ dinners. I pause for a moment, still pissed off about no one taking me seriously. Have they even heard of women’s liberation? I think when that wave went by they must have been eating gelato at the seaside kiosk.
    â€˜I’ll show you,’ I say, loud enough only to be heard by a nearby cow figurine. ‘I’m going to show you all.’ Then I hear Via start the car and I run out as fast as I can before they leave without me.
    It takes an hour to get to the house that isn’t Siena’s house anymore, mainly because no one knows where we are going. Via and Mum argue the entire time about which way to go, and I am sure that we have probably been circling Siena’s house for ages. It’s been a while since any of us have come this way, and before that our visits were infrequent. Of course, it occurs to neither of them to look at a street map, and I know better than to suggest it.
    â€˜These houses all look the same,’ says Via.
    â€˜So big,’ says Mum straining to get a good look at the two-storey mansions that flank the street. ‘So much to clean. ’
    â€˜These people don’t clean, Sofia. They have servants.’
    â€˜Did Siena have servants?’ I ask.
    â€˜She must have,’ says Mum. ‘If that’s what everyone does around here.’
    â€˜Is that the house?’ says Via, pointing to a two-storey, peach coloured mansion. ‘I don’t remember it being that colour,’ says Mum helplessly.
    â€˜What are those corkscrews?’ I say, referring to four dementedly shaped conifers. ‘Siena wouldn’t do that to a tree.’
    â€˜Oh wait a minute, it’s this one,’ says Via, and then swings the car into the kerb so quickly that I slam against the door. She has pulled up beside a large ‘For Sale’ sign which blocks Mum’s view of the house.
    Mum ducks and stretches to try and see around it. ‘Are you sure?’
    But Via has already unhitched herself and is getting out of the car. ‘This is it,’ she says, hands on hips and confident.
    We stand together at the mouth of the long path that cuts through a perfectly manicured lawn to the house that could be Siena’s. I have a nutty vision of us linking arms and skipping down the path like in The Wizard of Oz. We’re off to see the lost aunt, the wonderful lost aunt of Oz.
    â€˜I’ll wait here,’ I say, worried that we have the wrong