Five Parts Dead by Tim Pegler Read Free Book Online Page A

got nothing, so I clear my throat and blurt: ‘Pip. Sorry I snapped at you. I…I’ve been an utter prick since we’ve been here.’
    She puts her book down. Gives me a part grin, part grimace. ‘Thanks, Dan. And I’m sorry for…interfering. I can’t quite get it right.’
    â€˜Get what right? What are you talking…what are you trying to get right?’
    She frowns. ‘It’s hard to explain. I’m trying…I want to be supportive—be there for you—but it’s more than that. It’s bigger. It’s something I’ve been struggling with since Dad died. I don’t expect you to understand, Dan. I’m not even sure I’ve got my head around it…I probably sound like a complete tosser.’
    â€˜Got your head around what? Pip?’
    â€˜That you need compassion, okay, no matter how much of a shit you’re being.’ She sighs. ‘We all need it… every one of us, because we’re all the same, all dying, all going through the same stuff.’
    I stutter. ‘We’re…we’re what?’
    Pip turns to face me. Is she checking whether I’m taking the piss? I stare back at her, trying not to look as rattled as I feel.
    â€˜Forget it, okay?’ she says, shaking her head. ‘I didn’t mean to go all school-counsellor on you. You’ve probably had enough of that since the accident. Shit, I didn’t mean to remind you of the accident. Forget I mentioned it. I don’t expect you…or anyone else…’
    Her voice fades into silence as my brain scrolls backwards, searching for the words that jolted me out of orbit.
    â€˜Pip…I want to know, please, what do you mean by “We’re all dying”?’
    She pauses, still cautious. ‘It’s from The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying . It…helped me make sense of stuff when Dad was sick. The Tibetans say the only thing all humans have in common is that we’re dying from the moment we’re born…just at different speeds, I guess. So we’re supposed to have compassion for everyone, even people we don’t like, because we’re all going through the same thing. We’re all grieving because we know this life will end one day.’
    I don’t know what to say. Pip watches me, probably bracing herself for a smartarse reply. Then she turns away, kneading her forehead with her fingers. ‘Look, it’s not for everyone, okay. I just needed to find a way… of thinking about what happened to Dad.’
    I’m grasping for a response when Mel and Hiroshi skip around the corner of the cottage. ‘Did you guys see the sea eagle?’ Mel drags Pip to her feet and the three of them dart up the path towards the lighthouse. I gather together Pip’s novel and discarded jumper and make my way into the cottage.
    I’m grieving and dying? I might have to sit with that thought for a while.
    Dusk tumbles into darkness as Hiroshi and Pip team up to create an awesome vegetable curry for dinner. It’s so good that I barely notice the absence of meat.
    Dad’s left a bottle of champagne in the fridge with a note curled around the neck and held in place with a rubber band. I pull it free and translate his scrawl: Well done on a great year at school, guys. Play safe. Then, in Mum’s handwriting: If you’re going to drink, please do so responsibly. DO NOT let Hiroshi drink and drive.
    Sometimes I wonder what planet my parents are from. Ever since we turned sixteen they’ve been weirdly liberal about drinking, even offering half-glasses of wine at family dinners when the mood strikes them. The funny thing is, neither of us likes it that much. Mel rarely drinks because she’s training and me, well, once bitten…
    Tonight’s an exception though. I want to chill out and forget a few things and I’m grateful to have the company. Mel gives a whoop and the champagne cork