Free After by Sue Lawson

live there. It’s only good for shopping.’ She was slurring her words a little. ‘Where do you live?’
    ‘Inner city.’
    ‘Hmmm. I suppose that explains the windcheater.’
    Jack sniggered. ‘You should see his ‘Free Tibet’ jumper.’
    The room shrank around me. Deborah stared across the table. It felt like she could see through my skin to my bones. ‘Have you and Maeve always lived there?’
    Mr Frewen cleared his throat.
    ‘Yeah.’
    Deborah lifted her wine glass again. ‘How is Maeve? I haven’t seen her since—’
    Nan leapt to her feet. She held the serving spoon like it was a weapon. ‘Anyone like more apple crumble? Or ice-cream?’
    ‘As delicious as it was, Pat, I couldn’t,’ said Mr Frewen.
    Nan didn’t wait for anyone else to comment. ‘Why don’t you children go outside? The fresh air will do you good.’
    ‘Can we go to the tree house?’ asked Emma.
    What tree house?
    ‘I’ll take you,’ said Jack.
    ‘You go too, Callum,’ said Nan.
    I sighed and dumped my napkin on my unfinished dessert.
    Jack strode through the kitchen and into the backyard. Emma skipped alongside, talking about her cat or something. I trailed behind, watching the gravel.
    Deborah hadn’t seen Mum since what? And how come the Frewens knew about a tree house and I didn’t? For that matter, how come Jack strutted around the place like he owned it?
    Ahead, the Kelpies barked and ran as far as their chains would allow. A crow cawed. The ewes behind the tractor shed bleated.
    ‘Hey. There’s sheep in the lambing paddock,’ said Jack.
    ‘Yeah.’
    Jack stopped, hands on his hips. ‘Since when?’
    ‘Since Grandpa and I moved them.’
    Jack spun around. ‘But I do that for him. On the quaddie.’
    ‘Not this time.’ I walked past, glad to have slipped one into him.
    Jack’s footsteps crunched on the gravel behind me. In no time he was beside me.
    ‘Do you always wear those?’ asked Jack, nodding at my windcheater.
    ‘What?’
    He screwed up his nose. ‘That greenie stuff. Don’t you have other clothes? Surf stuff?’
    ‘An inland surfie? We’re a bit far from the beach, aren’t we?’
    Jack folded his arms over his ‘SurfzUp’ windcheater. Ahead of us, Emma took a wide berth around the barking dogs. Star strained on his lead to reach Jack, tail wagging. Jack whistled and patted his chest. Star jumped up and rested his front paws on Jack’s chest. ‘Star’s my dog.’ Jack reminded me of a crowing rooster.
    ‘He is not yours, he’s Mr A’s dog,’ said Emma. ‘Star just likes you.’
    Determined not to let him beat me, I strode towards Jilly.
    ‘She bites,’ said Emma. ‘She bit Jack’s leg.’
    I swallowed and squatted down. Jilly trotted forward, tail wagging. She nuzzled under my armpit. I tried not to gag at the rotten smell coming off her. ‘Good girl.’
    I glanced at Jack. His face was hard.
    ‘Poo,’ said Emma. ‘Jilly’s been rolling in something dead.’ She held her nose and stalked off.
    I kept patting Jilly, determined to ignore the smell. The shimmer of anger surrounding Jack, made it worth the effort. Two cypress trees on, Emma stopped. Why hadn’t I noticed the wooden planks nailed there? They were on the road side of the tree. Jack helped Emma climb the steps to where the tree trunk separated into thick branches. The breeze through the cypress leaves made a sighing, whispering sound and a shiver slipped down my back.
    Jack galloped up the steps. ‘Coming?’
    I followed, taking my time.
    ‘Guess there aren’t many trees to climb in the city,’ said Jack.
    I ignored him and pulled myself into the centre of the branches. There was a small cupboard nailed to one branch and a seat made from planks of wood. Dead cypress leaves and nuts carpeted everything. I wondered if it was Mum’s cupboard. Her seat. Her tree house. The cypress smell was sharper and thicker up here than it had been on the ground. I sneezed.
    ‘You ’lergic?’ asked Emma, opening the cupboard