Free The Life and Times of Gracie Faltrain by Cath Crowley Page A

explain to Gracie how to fix everything but that won’t help. She’s got to work it out for herself. Instead, I talk to her about herbs that comfort and heal. I cut lavender for her to smell. I tell her that if we plant just this small piece, it will grow. I let my words spin out a trail behind me, a coat for her to wear. I hope that she is standing close enough to be covered.

19
    finale noun : the last movement of a
piece of music
BILL
    Helen calls me at the motel tonight. Her voice is quick and businesslike. ‘Do you want to make this separation permanent?’ she asks, as though the answer can only be yes or no.
    The truth is somewhere in the middle, though, between Gracie’s smile and Helen’s eyes, and another life I could have lived. I hate travelling. I want my own bookshop, but we’ve got the nursery and two businesses would be crazy.
    â€˜I don’t know what I want,’ I say, but as I say it I don’t see the coffee stains on the wall in front of me anymore. I don’t see the old chair in the corner of the motel room, the foam sticking out through faded fabric. I see Gracie and Helen instead.
    When did I forget their faces?
    She hangs up before I can say how much I miss them. I feel like I’m watching a play; it’s written about me but I’ve got no control. The curtain has fallen; the audience is applauding. It’s too early though. They’re clapping but it’s only halfway through the second act.
    Â 
HELEN
    The day I gave birth to Gracie I looked at him holding her and I thought, this is it. I am happy. If all I have forever is Bill and Gracie then I don’t need money. I don’t need things. I just need them.
    Who are Gracie and I without him?

20
    outcast noun : a person who is rejected
GRACIE
    Mum tells me that bad things come in threes. She says this to me like it’s a good thing. ‘On my wedding day the car broke down, my bridesmaid got a blood nose and I ripped my dress.’
    â€˜Get to the part that makes me feel better, Mum.’
    â€˜Well, the day went off quite well after that. There are only a certain number of things that can go wrong.’
    Mum was right when she said that bad things come in threes. She just forgot to mention that threes can happen more than once.
    I flush the toilet at school today and the water just keeps rising. There are some of us out there who will admit to looking into the toilet bowl when they flush and some who won’t. As Jane says, ‘Everyone has to turn around to push the button and it’s human nature to look down.’ Anyway, I push the button and the level rises a bit. It keeps going; I’m transfixed as it rises and floods the rest of the toilets.
    I run into the hallway, straight into Martin.
    â€˜MARTIN!’ I grab his jumper and yell with the desperation of a drowning woman. ‘The toilet is flooding!’
    If I’d had any sense of self-preservation I would have said it quietly, not with the same level of panic as the captain of the Titanic . There’s a little crowd gathering around me. Someone looks down and says, ‘Euhh, your shoes are wet.’
    Yep. They’re wet to the power of three. And counting.
    I wear wet shoes all day. I try not to think about how disgusting the bowl of that toilet looked. But I know. I always look down.
    Â 
ANNABELLE
    Her shoes were disgusting. Could you smell them? I thought I was going to be sick.
    Â 
SUSAN
    Her socks were wet too. She wore them all day.
    Â 
ANNABELLE
    Gracie Faltrain plays sport all the time. She never wears a dress. You know what I think?
    Â 
NICK
    She’s what ? I knew it. I just knew it.
    Â 
MARTIN
    â€˜Who cares? Faltrain’s a mate, a good one too. How come you hate her so much, Annabelle?’
    â€˜She doesn’t like me either, Martin. She’s not as good as you think.’
    â€˜Just leave her alone, yeah?’
    â€˜I’ll leave her alone when she leaves