The Good Daughter by Amra Pajalic Read Free Book Online

realise she was willing to sacrifice so much, including me.
    â€˜Please,’ Mum added. ‘For me...’ She held out the money. I took it and followed her.
    â€˜ Je si li joj pokazala Boga njenog ?’ Dido demanded to know if Mum had put me in my place. The Bosnian version of ‘Did you send her to meet her maker?’
    â€˜Sabiha has something to say,’ Mum put her hand on my shoulder.
    â€˜Sorry,’ I said to Safet, then turned around and left, my hand over my pocket where the money was. I heard Dido yelling, then Mum placating him with the announcment that I’d be going to mejtef next week.
    â€˜Next week is a long way away,’ I said under my breath. I spent the night in my room writing a short story in my journal about an evil mother who abandoned her child to an orphanage in order to marry a millionaire.
    Kathleen sat at a table outside Retro, our favourite café on Brunswick Street. ‘It’s been ages,’ I hugged her. ‘I missed you.’
    â€˜Me too,’ she hugged me back.
    â€˜It’s so good to be out of the suburbs.’ I sat down and picked up the menu.
    â€˜Hey Sammie!’ Shelley sat down opposite me.
    I frowned at Kathleen. What happened to lunch on our own? Kathleen shrugged.
    â€˜Geez, I haven’t seen you since you moved,’ Shelley said.
    â€˜I know.’ It wasn’t an accident. The highlight of my move to St Albans was that I didn’t have to see Shelley any more.
    Kathleen placed her bag on the table and rummaged inside. ‘Where’s my lip gloss?’ she muttered.
    â€˜Have you made any friends at your new school?’ Shelley asked.
    â€˜I’ve got all the friends I need right here,’ I replied.
    â€˜My cousins Sharon and Karen live in St Albans. I can hook you up?’
    â€˜Thanks, but no thanks,’ I said. As if.
    Kathleen found her lip gloss and ran it over her lips. As she dropped her bag on the ground the table shook and her coffee spilt. ‘Shit!’ she exclaimed.
    â€˜I’ll get you some serviettes,’ Shelley said.
    â€˜What the hell is she doing here?’ I hissed at Kathleen after Shelley left.
    â€˜She wanted to see you.’
    â€˜What for?’ I demanded.
    â€˜You are her friend too.’ Shelley returned and mopped up Kathleen’s coffee. ‘Thanks Shell,’ Kathleen said. Shelley always made me look bad in front of Kathleen by being Miss Perfect. ‘I have to go and wash this off.’ Kathleen pointed to the stain on her skirt.
    After she left Shelley searched through her handbag. ‘I’ve got something for you.’ She pulled out an envelope and put it on the table. ‘It’s a birthday invitation—’
    â€˜I’ve got plans.’ I cut her off. Where did she get off playing like we were best buds, when we both knew we hated each other’s guts.
    Shelley opened her mouth, about to argue, but then thought better of it. ‘Don’t say I didn’t invite you,’ she said with a tight smile. She returned the envelope to her handbag and pulled out an iPod. She put the earphones in her ear. ‘Mum bought it for me. It was $250.’
    I didn’t look at it. Shelley was a show-off. When Shelley’s parents divorced, they split custody of their daughters. So her sister went to live with her mum and Shelley lived with her dad. Shelley’s mum bought her whatever she wanted because she felt guilty that Shelley didn’t live with her. Shelley wanted me to admire her iPod but, if I asked to listen to it, she’d make up an excuse not to let me touch it.
    â€˜I’m listening to Pink,’ Shelley said.
    â€˜How original,’ I replied. Pink was Kathleen’s favourite singer. Shelley was always doing that. Whatever Kathleen liked, so did Shelley.
    She pressed stop on the iPod and peered at my bare thighs. ‘Is that another op-shop bargain?’
    â€˜No.’ I tugged