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‘This is Constable Farrelly, from the Gindarra Street Police Station.’
What?That was the cop station near her home. ‘Can I help you?’
‘Do you live at 16 Barbery Street?’
‘Yes.’
‘A woman has been apprehended breaking into your property via a window. A neighbour alerted us and we caught her in the act.’
‘Oh my god. Has anythi—’
‘The woman says she’s your mother and has your permission to be there, but we wanted to confirm that with you. We ran her ID … turns out she’s got a record.’
Her happy pre-flight buzz evaporated. ‘Terri Fox,’ she said. ‘Short for Theresa. Is that who it is?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
She sighed, then switched into the explanatory mode she’d developed all those years ago living out of the hatchback, from country town to country town. ‘Look, she doesn’treallyhave a record. There was a misunderstanding about some unbanked rates when she was working at a local council, and she did her community service and everything was paid back. Every dollar.’
‘So, no need to charge her with break and enter, then?’
‘Of course not, Constable.’ But … Kirsty pressed her fingers into the crease that had decided to cut her forehead in half.
‘Wait … she wants to talk to you.’
She listened to the scramble as a mobile phone changed hands.
‘Kirst? Is that you, sugarplum?’
‘Yes, Mum. It’s me. What’s going on? I sent you a text: I’ll come see you tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow would have been too late, Kirsty.’
‘Don’t tell me; something bad has happened to you.’
‘Well, I am a Fox, darling. It was only a matter of time. And … well … the thing is, Kirsty, this time it involves you.’
What?
Terri hadn’t finished. ‘Of course, it’s probably nothing, or good news even, so I’m freaking out for nothing, but I won’t know until you open the letter.’
‘I’m about to get airborne, Mum, but I should be home after lunch. Put Constable Farrelly back on, will you?’
‘Sure, dear.’
‘Tell her she can stay,’ she said when the policeman returned.
‘Rightio,’ he said. ‘Maybe hide a key under the doormat next time, hey?’
She ended the call and looked through the thickened perspex of the B200’s windows. Next time. There was always a next time with Terri, wasn’t there?
And each time was getting a little bit harder to shake off.
She reached down for her headset and noticed her fingers were trembling. Actually, not just her fingers. Her hands were shaking. Her lungs felt tight and she closed her eyes for a moment.
‘Pull yourself together,’ she muttered. ‘Terri has the bad luck, not you. You are totally fine. You do not have the curse.’ But had she made a mistake buying a house? Staying at the one job for so long?
She took a long breath and blew it out the way she’d seen Carys instruct patients who were about to lose their cool because of some farm accident where they’d lost a finger or whatever in an auger.
