Free The Accident by Kate Hendrick Page B

stops flipping and looks up at me, clearly following her own train of thought. ‘Brett and the guys are going out shooting on the weekend. Killing kangaroos and stuff on his uncle’s farm.’ Wrinkles her nose. ‘It’s gross.’
    I shrug. ‘They’re a massive problem. That’s why the government gives out licences to cull them.’
    I watch her eyes go wide, like I’ve just suggested going out and drowning a bag of kittens. She seems to have no comprehension sometimes that there’s a whole rest of the country out there, let alone a world. A bit like Rose-Marie, though I can’t really imagine Rose-Marie getting up to any of the stuff Izzy does on weekends. Still. They both have that clueless streak. I feel a bit sorry for them sometimes. That nice, comfortable world they live in is very small.
    ‘I grew up in the country, Iz. I’ve shot stuff.’
    ‘Oh yeah. I forgot.’
    God, she’s blonde. Sometimes wonder how I’ve put up with Izzy so long.
    ‘Still. I can’t believe he’d do it. He even asked if I wanted to go along. I mean, seriously? It’s a five-hour drive each way in a car full of serious BO.’ She shudders dramatically. ‘I don’t think so.’
    Free period last so I go pick up Tash early. The kids are just finishing their afternoon snack and getting covered with sunscreen before they can go play. Tash is still sitting at the table on the verandah, a half-eaten quarter piece of Vegemite toast in one hand, picking through her bowl of fruit with the other. Pair of rabbit ears from the dress-ups box.
    I hang back for a minute. Watch her eat a piece of rockmelon, then shove the rest of the toast into the same mouthful as if she’s suddenly realised she’s losing valuable play time.
    She decides she’s done with the rest of the fruit. Climbs out of her seat, wrestling it back under the table, and trots over to the hat box to find her Dorothy the Dinosaur hat. Turns around, tugging the hat sideways onto her head, on top of the rabbit ears. Sees me.
    Her face is covered in Vegemite and I know her hands will be sticky from the fruit. Learned that from experience. I snag a wet wipe from the box on the shelf and go for her hands as she comes running, wiping them and her face clean before I let her grab me.
    Tash always has a lot to say and tries to say it all at once. Her sentences are getting longer and longer but she hasn’t quite cracked knowing when to end them. She keeps banging on when I say, ‘Yeah, okay, I get it,’ then chucks a tantrum when I pull the rabbit ears off. I cop a kick to the stomach as I lift her up.
    ‘Stop it or you’ll get a smack.’ The way I say it, she knows I’m serious. Looks at me reproachfully, snot hanging out of one nostril. I take a tissue from the shelf and wipe her face clean again.
    Dirty looks from people on the bus. It’s always worse when I’m in school uniform. I meet the looks with a cold stare. Pretend to be interested in Tash’s prattle as she watches out the bus window.
    ‘Just wait. The water’s yucky.’ It might be April but nothing’s going to quench the kid’s determination to get wet. Never mind that there’s a puddle of stagnant rainwater in the bottom of the wading pool that looks and smells like stale piss. I grab Tash before she can clamber in, Rose-Marie would chuck a fit if she found out.
    I need a distraction. ‘Go get the hose, okay? Your pool needs more water.’
    I upend it while her back is turned and grimace at the stink of stagnant water and sun-warmed plastic. Turn my face away from the remnants of a squashed slug on the underside of the plastic.
    ‘The things I do for you, kid…’
    I stretch out on the deckchair and manage to get ten minutes’ worth of homework done while she paddles in the refilled pool. When she climbs out the endless questions start.
    ‘What’s that?’
    ‘My biology homework. For school. These things are called Punnett squares.’
    ‘Pun-nit squares,’ she repeats after me, as if the word