Free Matty and Bill for Keeps by Elizabeth Fensham

fire using firesticks. On many wintry Sunday nights, this was also where the Grub and O’Connell families would toast bread over the open fire and eat soft-boiled eggs. In the sitting room, the grown-ups left behind their daily busyness; they slowed down and would tell stories, the firelight flickering across everyone’s faces.
    On this particular Friday night, with the cold rain beating against the windows, the sitting room (with the help of Aunt Victoria’s delicious home-cooked food) worked its magic again. The Grub, O’Connell and de Floriette families and Marguerite Bell (who seemed to pop in more and more to see Mat’s brother, Tom) drank Donald’s homemade ginger beer and munched their way through meat and vegetable pasties, banana muffins and oven-hot apple turnovers with homemade ice-cream.
    Crispin proudly explained that he had been the cook’s help for every delicacy. The ice-cream was his greatest achievement. Aunt Victoria despised electrical gadgets in her kitchen, so Crispin had made the ice-cream by hand. He explained how creamy custard was put into a billy, then the billy was placed in a bucket of ice; next, coarse salt crystals were poured over the ice. This melted the ice, but kept the water at a freezing temperature. Crispin had to stand there for three-quarters of an hour, twisting the billy back and forth until the ice-cream formed. He had very sore wrists, but everyone raved so much about the creaminess that you could tell he thought the effort was worth it.
    When the eating slowed down, the talking increased. Only two members of the family were quiet – Uncle Len had fallen asleep with his hairy snout lying across Donald’s feet and Donald, too, had fallen asleep, his chin resting on his chest. Tom and Marguerite were making plans to hold a local music festival; Tessa and Pam were sharing gardening tips; and Crispin was knitting a hat. He sat with his socked feet propped on the metal fire fender, casually knitting one and pearling one while he discussed with Bill and Mat the five items they’d choose to take with them to live on a desert island. Nan and Aunt Victoria were the loudest of the bunch. They had so much in common. Aunt Victoria had brought a large bag of dyed wools. She was explaining which plants she’d experimented with to get the colours. Nan was advising Aunt Victoria about the best plants for dyes as well as telling her about some of the other uses for those plants as foods and medicines. Aunt Victoria took out a notebook and pen to write it all down.
    Bill paused in his conversation with Mat and Crispin to take it all in. No one in tonight’s gathering was left out or lonely. Then he thought about his dad, Troy, who was missing from the group. But if he had been here, would he fit in? Would he say something foolish? Would he try to impress everyone with some harebrained scheme? His dad was safe up in Sydney, doing his computer course and living in the monastery. On the other hand, Bill thought about what Mrs Mabel Flint had said recently about men not managing for long without a woman in their lives. His mum really should hurry up and use the aeroplane ticket that he and Mat had given her after the film night.

When Bill picked up the phone the next morning, he recognised the squeaky, rasping voice immediately. It was Maggot – his dad’s criminal connection. Hearing that voice had the same effect as seeing a cockroach. You felt sick, repulsed and you wanted to get rid of it – squash it. But Bill knew it was hard to squash a cockroach. You’d think you had squished it with your shoe or something hard, and then that nasty beast would scurry off again. Maggot was like that. He kept coming back and dirtying his surroundings and everyone else’s. Bill had thought Maggot had been scared off, but here he was straight out ringing the O’Connell family.
    â€˜How’s it, mate?’ asked Maggot.
    Bill was irritated by