Mothers and Daughters by Kylie Ladd Read Free Book Online Page A

all those laps in the pool. They weren’t as long as Bronte’s, sure, but Bronte was a mutant. Great tits. That’s what Darren in year ten had called out anyway, when he passed her in the corridor before school broke up. Janey’s hands reached to cup them. They were nice. Round and high, the nipples a dusky pink, not brown and used-looking like her mother’s. Her mum had caught her peeking at them once as they got changed for the beach, and pulled a face. ‘Children,’ she’d said. ‘That’s what you get from pregnancy and breastfeeding.’ If that was the case, Janey was going to adopt.
    The light snapped out.
    ‘Hey!’ Janey said.
    ‘I want to go to sleep. It’s after midnight in Melbourne.’ Bronte’s voice was muffled. She probably had the covers pulled up to her nose, hiding from all the rapists. ‘Go into the bathroom if you want to stare at yourself.’
    She was just jealous, Janey thought, but slid into the second bed anyway.
    An hour later she was still awake. It was too hot. The air pressed against her face like a warm wet sponge, congealed beneath her knees and in her armpits. She sat up and turned on the bedside lamp, then went over to switch on the airconditioner, but it shook itself to life with such a combination of clanking and wheezing that Bronte woke up and complained. Fine, Janey decided, shutting everything off and grabbing her bikini from where she’d left it in a damp heap on a chair. If she couldn’t sleep she’d go for a swim. Fiona had only told them to keep the door locked, after all. She hadn’t said anything about actually staying in the room.
    A small green frog hopped away from her feet as she followed the pathway outside her door. The sky was a deep navy blue dusted with stars; the pool when she came to it was still and serene. Janey dived in and swam underwater, revelling in the luxury of not counting her strokes or rushing to the surface as she usually did, mind fixed on the session or the race ahead of her. Guided by a blue underwater beacon, she made it to the far end, turned and got halfway back before coming up for air. She rolled onto her back and floated, catching her breath. A bat wheeled past overhead, lit briefly by the light reflected from the water.
    ‘Are you part mermaid?’ someone called, and Janey stood up, looking around.
    ‘Over here,’ came the voice again, and then Janey saw him, sitting on the edge of the pool, half hidden in the shadows, his feet dangling in the water. ‘I was lying on the banana lounge when you dived in. Sorry to scare you.’
    ‘You didn’t,’ Janey said. She lay back in the water again, annoyed at being disturbed.
    ‘My mates are all in the bar,’ the man continued. ‘I was sick of the smoke; came out here for a breather and a bit of a lie-down. Didn’t know I was going to get woken by a mermaid. Show us your tail.’ He grinned, white teeth and gleaming eyes all she could see in the darkness. Seventeen, Janey thought, judging by his voice. Maybe eighteen. It was hard to tell, but she liked his smile.
    ‘No way,’ she said, holding her legs tightly together and splashing water towards him. ‘You’ll sell me to a museum.’
    ‘Do mermaids fetch a good price?’ he asked. ‘I’ve been hunting for a bunyip, but maybe I should change my tack.’
    ‘Heaps,’ Janey said. ‘Even more if you can catch one alive.’
    ‘OK, then,’ he replied, then stood up and dived into the water, still clothed, before she could blink. Janey struck out for the shallow end but he was onto her in a moment, reaching for her feet. She shrieked and giggled, kicking spray into his face and wriggling away.
    ‘Powerful, too,’ he said, wiping his eyes. ‘You’ll make me a fortune!’ He took a deep breath and dived under again. Janey felt his hands on her ankles, on her calves, sliding up towards her thighs . . . and then heard a new voice, a loud and very angry one.
    ‘Janey!’ her mother bellowed from the paved area at the far end of