Pictures of Lily

engine, and putting the air-conditioning on full blast. ‘I know it can’t be easy for you, but I hope you come to like Australia.’
    ‘It’s fine,’ I mutter sheepishly.
    ‘Ah, no,’ he says gruffly. ‘To be honest, if I were you I’d be scared shitless. Oops. Excuse my French.’
    I giggle and he pulls out of the car park.
    Cooking smells waft down the hall as we walk through the front door of the house, making me groan inwardly. I don’t think Josh is a budding Jamie Oliver, which can only mean one thing: my mum is in the kitchen.
    ‘Wow, that smells good!’ Michael enthuses as he bounds away from me. My feet drag after him. The sound of the television emanates from behind the closed door of the living room and I’m guessing Josh is inside. What I wouldn’t give to join him and avoid my mother altogether. As if reading my mind, my mum emerges from the kitchen, wiping her hands with a tea-towel.
    ‘Hello,’ she calls, her smile practically leaping from her face. ‘Welcome home.’
    Home? Glad to see someone’s settled in.
    ‘Hey there,’ Michael says warmly, going in for a kiss. I flinch as the impact lasts slightly longer than necessary.
    ‘Hello, Lily.’ Still beaming, Mum beckons me towards her, gets my head in a headlock and kisses my temple. I firmly extract myself. ‘Did you have a nice day?’
    ‘Yep.’
    ‘Sit down and tell me all about it!’
    ‘No,’ I moan, reverting to the moody teenager she’s so familiar with. ‘I’m shattered.’
    ‘She is, poor thing,’ Michael says. ‘It’s been a long day.’ He musses my hair and it takes everything in me not to bat him away.
    ‘I’ve made Shepherd’s Pie,’ Mum says proudly.
    ‘In this heat?’ I can’t help but respond.
    ‘Oh, you,’ she says affectionately, reaching out for a killer hug. I quickly step away.
    ‘I might see what’s on the telly.’
    ‘Dinner will be ready in half an hour,’ she calls after me.
    ‘You beauty, Cindy,’ I hear Michael say as I leave the room. ‘It’s so great coming home to you today.’
    My mum only ever cooks for the men in her life. Not for me. Never for me. Oh, sure, she’s made me beans on toast, but even I’m capable of rustling that one up. And I have done. Often.
    ‘Hey,’ Josh says when I appear in the living room. He’s wearing dark-blue and white Bermuda shorts and a light-blue T-shirt. His tanned legs are projecting halfway across the coffee table.
    ‘Alright?’ I respond, slumping down on the sofa and staring at the television. ‘What are you watching?’
    ‘The footie.’
    My day is steadily going downhill.
    ‘Did you have a good time last night?’ I try to make conversation.
    He shrugs. ‘It was okay.’
    ‘Where did you go?’
    ‘Stirling.’
    ‘Where’s Stirling?’
    ‘Five Ks that way.’ He points towards the front door, but doesn’t take his eyes off the telly, so I give up. He hasn’t bothered to ask me how my day went and I don’t want to talk about it to him, my mum or anyone, so as soon as I’ve eaten dinner, I make my excuses and go to bed.

Chapter 3
     
    I’m showered and dressed and have my camera bag at the ready when Michael appears for breakfast. The question bursts out of my mouth before his bum even hits his seat.
    ‘Could I come with you again today?’
    ‘Well, of course,’ he replies, surprise written all over his face. ‘I didn’t think you’d want to so soon, but—’
    ‘Are you sure it’s okay?’ I chip in, desperate for him to say yes.
    ‘Absolutely, darl, but have you checked with your mum?’
    ‘She won’t care.’
    ‘She might want to spend some time with you.’
    ‘She won’t. Honest,’ I plead.
    ‘It’s fine by me if it’s fine by her.’
    ‘Wicked!’ I jump up.
    My mum knows better than to pour water over my protected-species-rare enthusiasm, so she’s practically pushing me out of the door an hour later. I join Michael in the staffroom for the requisite cuppa, then head off in the direction of the kangaroos. I never got a chance to feed them the pellets Ben gave to me yesterday.
    I find Roy lying in the shade of the same tree.
    ‘Hey you,’ I say softly as I approach him. ‘I brought some food for you today.’
    At the sound of the rustling paper bag, he lazily gets to his feet. The tiny whiskers around his mouth tickle my outstretched palm as he gently eats the pellets one by one until they’re all gone. I wipe my hands on my jeans and, on a whim, settle down on the crisp, dry grass.