Free Mothers and Daughters by Kylie Ladd

and presenting her bare back to Caro so she could tie the strings. God, she was lovely, Caro thought. Her hair like a sheaf of wheat, her skin silky and olive, inherited from her Mediterranean-born father, her strong, supple shoulders . . . hideous, Janey had said when she gave up butterfly, fearing they were becoming too broad.
    Impulsively, Caro dropped her lips onto the girl’s right shoulder blade, kissed her, then drew back.
    ‘You look fabulous, Janey. Enjoy it while you can.’
    ‘Thanks,’ Janey muttered, grabbed her towel and banged back out the door. Caro bent and retrieved the chip packet.
    Fifteen minutes later, when she’d unpacked Janey’s things and changed into her own bathers, Caro ventured outside. Now to the beach—but where was it? All she could see were some grey-green trees, a yellow sheet flapping on a clothesline, ochre tracks meandering off into the scrub. She began to follow one, moving in the opposite direction from the way they’d come in. It couldn’t be too far, surely. She hoped not. The sun was already beating through her hat, prising sweat from her brow.
    ‘You right? Are you lookin’ for something?’
    Caro jumped. She hadn’t noticed the man standing in the shade of the boab tree next to the path. He was clad only in shorts, a bandana tied around his neck, the red fabric standing out against his dark skin.
    ‘The beach,’ she said, breathing quickly. ‘Sorry, you startled me. I’m here with Amira. She’s a teacher at the school.’
    The man smiled, revealing the pink flesh of his lips. ‘I know who Amira is. We all do, and we knew she had friends coming. Nothin’ much that’s a secret around here.’ He pointed back over his shoulder. ‘You’re goin’ the right way. The beach is down there, about five minutes.’
    Caro watched his chest rise and fall, a lone drop of sweat or seawater snaking down his stomach.
    ‘Do you want to come too?’ she asked, then coloured. What a stupid thing to say.
    The man just smiled again.
    ‘Already been.’ He gestured to a bucket containing some silver fish, one still twitching and opening its mouth. ‘Promised the missus I’d get her some boab nuts on the way back. She carves them. They’re in the gallery.’
    ‘Oh. I’ll have to go see them then,’ Caro said, shifting her straw bag from one shoulder to the other.
    ‘Enjoy the beach.’ The man turned back to the tree and crouched down, foraging at its base. Caro stood there for a second, watching the play of shadows on the muscles of his back, then continued down the track. She felt quite light-headed.

    Dear Tess,
    Thanks for your postcard. I put it on the shelf next to my bed, but Finn teased me so much that I took it down and put it in my homework diary instead. The only time I ever look in there is to read it again. I think Finn’s jealous. Maybe you better send him one too!
    I didn’t know your address, so I had to send this with my mum, but she’s pretty cool. I don’t think she’ll open it, and if she does SHAME ON YOU MUM! I put masking tape on the envelope as a test. If it’s gone, she’s read it and you should make sure you put a spider in her bed, or hide her running shoes. That will kill her.
    How are you enjoying it up there? It must be so different to Melbourne. Do you go to the beach all the time? Is there any surf? And what about the food? I bet you miss Subway. I remember how you always went there on a Friday after school with Janey and the rest of your gang. Stevie and Finn and I always acted like we bumped into you by accident, but we actually went there just to see you all. You probably worked that out. It was fun though.
    School is OK. There’s more homework than last year, and my form teacher isn’t as nice. I got a detention at the start of the term because I did a book report on Kelly Slater’s autobiography. I thought that was a bit rough. They said we could pick any book! Mr Birmingham said it should have been a novel, or at least something