Free The First Week by Margaret Merrilees

interested.’
    â€˜Do you come from Katanning?’
    â€˜My Granny grew up on the mission at Tolgerup.’
    â€˜Oh.’ The mission. Forerunner of the Reserve.
    Silence fell. Marian realised that Lee was watching her, quite calmly. Waiting for a reaction. The confidence of the younger woman was galling. They’ve been lovers, Marian thought suddenly. This girl and Charlie. The idea disturbed her in a way that the idea of Sam and Charlie, just a kid thing , had not. She was uncomfortably aware of Lee’s body, the glow of her brown skin, the way her breasts swelled under her jumper. Marian looked away.
    â€˜Charlie wanted to know about it,’ Lee was saying, ‘The Mission. The Reserve. He reckoned it was his history too, you know?’
    â€˜But we’re not …’
    â€˜No. You aren’t, are you? White as white.’
    This woman didn’t like her.
    Well it was mutual. Marian felt her own hostility as a physical force in every nerve ending. She was completely awake now.
    What did Charlie care about the Reserve? One of his troublemaking ideas. Marian didn’t trust it. And she didn’t trust Lee.
    â€˜So you didn’t grow up down there?’
    â€˜No. Mum came up to the city. Reckoned there was no future down there. She was right, eh?’
    Lee didn’t wait for Marian’s response. ‘I was born here. I’ve got aunties and uncles down there though. I stay with them sometimes. Could have met you there.’
    This time Lee smiled, a momentary gleam of amusement. ‘Charlie liked that. That we’d almost met before.’
    She rubbed the side of her nose. ‘He was homesick, I guess. Homesick but glad to be away at the same time. Love-hate sort of thing.’
    Love-hate. Marian felt that in her body. The stab of rejection.
    Lee looked at her, head on one side. ‘Well it isn’t exactly progressive, is it, Tolgerup? Charlie wouldn’t fit in too well down there. He needed to get away.’
    Marian was angry. Who the hell was this girl? What would she know about Tolgerup, or about Charlie?
    Sam leaned forward. ‘Marian? Don’t, you know, take it personally. Lee doesn’t mean to upset you. Do you Lee?’ she pleaded.
    Like hell she didn’t. Marian looked past Sam to Lee. Lee’s face was neutral.
    â€˜Oh no,’ she said. ‘Let’s not have anyone upset. Dead maybe, but not upset.’ But her face softened as she looked at Sam. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I get cynical.’
    Marian nodded. She had to keep her temper. Keep trying to find out. Whatever it was.
    â€˜Does your Granny still live in Tolgerup?’ she asked stiffly.
    â€˜No, she’s dead now. Brought her kids up on the Reserve then died, soon after they moved into town. When the Reserve was closed.’
    Marian didn’t want to think about the Reserve. She rubbed her finger across the fabric of the chair. Cotton, perhaps. With a strong rib in it.
    â€˜Did you ever go there?’ Lee asked.
    â€˜To the Reserve? No.’
    The question was loaded. Of course she’d never been to the Reserve. Nobody she knew had ever been to the Reserve. Nobody white.
    â€˜Granny said they didn’t have too much to do with the town in those days. Maybe walk there sometimes and buy two bottles of beer. That was the limit. They weren’t allowed inside the pub. Might have dirtied the carpets.’
    Marian opened her mouth to protest, but Lee lifted a hand to stop her. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘But don’t tell me it isn’t true.’
    Sam spoke. ‘It made Charlie angry.’
    â€˜Yeah,’ said Lee. ‘He was an activist. I think it’s all connected.’
    â€˜With Charlie?’ asked Marian. Activist?
    â€˜Charlie wanted to know about this stuff,’ Lee said. ‘He was always … he sort of wanted to know the worst.’ She turned to Sam. ‘You know what I