Free Angel Creek by Sally Rippin Page A

cheeks heat up and she looked down at the ground. Her feet were spattered with mud.
    â€˜Tell her that other stuff about the angels.’ Pik pulled away from her clasp and took the boy’s hand.
    The boy smiled and poked Pik. ‘Nah, they’re just made-up stories. No such thing as angels, remember?’
    â€˜But you said—’ Pik frowned.
    The boy handed Pik his stick. ‘Here, I said you could have this when I was finished with it. You’d better go now. It’s dangerous to play near the creek. A kid drowned here a couple of years ago.’ He ran his hand through his hair then turned back the way he came.
    Jelly watched him walk away then grabbed Pik’s hand. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Now we have to find Gino.’
    Gino was walking down St Peter’s Road when Pik and Jelly got to the bridge. She waved for him to hurry and he ran to catch up with them.
    â€˜We were in the park, okay?’ She pulled Pik into a run alongside her. ‘And, Pik, no more stuff about angels.’
    Gino didn’t say anything. Jelly glanced at him as they ran along the track to the playground. There were long scratches on his arm. He turned and caught her staring at him and she offered him a smile. But he only glowered at her, then looked straight ahead.
    Jelly couldn’t understand what had got into him. They’d fought in the past but it had never been like this before. It was like the Gino she knew was no longer there.

14
    small comforts
    They got back just in time for Maureen to serve up a batch of pancakes. She was humming along to some old song and skipping around in Nonna’s apron again. Jelly wished she’d take it off; she was getting pancake mix all over it. But then Jelly remembered her promise by the creek to think nice thoughts.
    â€˜Thanks for making us pancakes, Maureen.’
    Maureen looked taken aback. ‘Well, that’s all right, honey. I hope you like them.’ She handed Jelly two plates. ‘Take one of these up to your dad.’
    â€˜I’ll eat mine with him.’ Jelly flooded the pancakes with maple syrup, happy to have an excuse to leave. She wasn’t quite ready to test out her good-thought resolution on Gino.
    Jelly’s dad was awake when she got to his room. ‘Hey, beautiful. Hop up here with me.’ He patted the space beside him.
    Jelly climbed onto the bed and snuggled in next to him. She could smell her mum on the pillow. Jelly’s dad put his arm around her. ‘Mum just called. Sophia has measles, that’s all. They’re bringing her home. Just as well. I don’t think we could handle any more bad luck in this family right now.’
    Jelly shoved a forkful of pancake into her mouth. ‘What about Nonna?’ she said, her mouth full.
    Her dad sighed. ‘We don’t know yet.’
    â€˜What do you mean?’
    There was a pause.
    â€˜Nonna’s getting old, love.’
    A lump of pancake stuck in Jelly’s throat. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
    Her dad ran his big hand over her head. ‘Well, her body’s getting tired.’
    â€˜She’s coming home, though? Right?’
    â€˜I hope so, honey. I hope so.’
    Jelly forced the pancake down.
    â€˜Mum also wanted to know if you’d still like to visit Nonna. She’ll pick you up after she’s taken Sophia and Zia back to their place to rest.’
    Jelly nodded and leaned over to hug him. They stayed like that for what felt like ages. Finally, her dad pulled away. His eyes were wet. He gave Jelly a crumpled smile. ‘She’ll be happy to see you, love,’ he said. ‘Who knows? It might just be what she needs.’
    This turned Jelly’s mind to her other worry. ‘Dad?’ she said. ‘If someone you knew—your friend—was doing something you didn’t think was right, what would you do?’
    â€˜Why, honey?’
    â€˜No reason. Just