Free Fire Song by Libby Hathorn Page A

end of us. You and Pippa in a home and Freddy and Charlie, of course. A horrible home.’
    Ingrid nodded dumbly.
    ‘But it’s not just that.’
    ‘What, Mum?’ Surely to heaven there couldn’t be anything worse. Once again Mum reached out to take her hand.
    ‘It’s about that no-good dad of yours,’ she whispered angrily.
    She felt fear, anger at her mother for making her heart go wacky again, but she just nodded, waiting for the worst.
    ‘Seems he could get himself knocked about a bit, your daddy.’ She spoke with that mean edge of triumph in her voice.
    ‘Ran up a massive gambling debt in Sydney, the fool. See, he needs money help, too.’
    Oh no, Mum! It wasn’t fair to use Daddy like this. And yet, how was she to know if it was true, what Mum had justtold her? It might have been a trick to make sure she’d go and do this wrong thing.
    ‘So you need to do it tonight, the way I planned. That’s all! Better still that I’m cooped up in this place, as it turns out. Now do it!’
    ‘I hate you!’ Ingrid wanted to yell out so that everyone in or near the ward, the whole world, could hear. ‘I won’t do it. I won’t set Grandma’s house on fire for anything. Not for the insurance money, not for you or Daddy, not for anything! I won’t!’ But even as these thoughts raced through her head, she was nodding yes to her mother – a sad sack of a nod, but it was yes!
    She could see a change in Mum’s face at once, a crooked smile, as she lay back, pale and exhausted, relieved. But she wasn’t finished yet.
    ‘There’s something else I need to tell you. I’m not sure this is the right thing, but just so you won’t get your hopes up. Your father and I, well you see, we’re divorced now. It’s a horrible word, I know, but it’s better for us.’
    How? How could it ever be a better thing for Daddy to be divorced? Divorced from all of them, separated forever. The words made her feel cold.
    ‘It’s the truth, Ingrid – divorced a few months back. I was going to tell you at the right time and now this is it. We’re divorced and I think you should know, because he’s not coming back to live with us ever, and I’m not having you be like Mrs Harry Williams, waiting and waiting for nothing. And if he gets over this stupid gambling thing, you know what he plans to do?’
    ‘No, Mum.’ How could she know what Daddy planned to do, when she’d never heard a word from him or about him?
    ‘He’s going off with your Auntie Ivy to live in Queensland and I’ll never forgive him or her for that. Never!’
    ‘Then that means –’ Ingrid was confused. Exactly what did it mean? Why was Mum saying this now?
    ‘But we’ll help him,’ Mum added just a bit too quickly. ‘Only this once, so he can get out of his money worries and all, at least that. He’s your father. But once we’ve done that, I don’t want to hear either of their names ever again.’
    ‘No, Mum.’ Her voice was a strangled whisper. She mustn’t cry. No crying.
    ‘Come and look at me, Ingrid.’ Mum beckoned. ‘Stand up and look at me, ugly and all as I know I must be. And listen hard!’ Her eyes, even the wonky one, glinted with power again, though her voice still came in hoarse whispers.
    ‘You’ve got a job to do and you’re going to promise me that you’ll do it! All right? For me and for your – our – family. Our whole family. Understand?’
    Ingrid nodded dumbly.
    ‘Let me hear you say it. Let me hear you promise.’
    ‘Yes, Mum, I promise.’
    ‘See, if I don’t smell smoke tonight, my dear.’ She never called Ingrid that, and Ingrid hated to hear it used like this. ‘If I don’t hear that fire truck roaring by, so help me God, I’ll find a way to get to
Emoh Ruo
myself.
    ‘I’ll take a wheelchair and I’ll get down there somehow and do what has to be done, even if it kills me. And you’ll be –’ But Mum began coughing and her face started to twitch in weird ways and Ingrid pressed the buzzer for the nurse