they even here?â Ruby asked. âI thought your mother and your uncle Sid were fighting.â
Gerald picked up a plate of wilted alfalfa sprouts and dried up carrot sticks from the buffet and looked at it with distaste. âWalter told Mum she needed to repair some broken fences. Itâs all part of the life course heâs putting her through. A twelve-step personal property appraisal, or something.â
âIt looks like Walter has his hooks into your mum good and proper.â
âI know. Iâm hoping itâs just a phase sheâs going through. Parents can be so frustrating.â
Sam wandered over, a look of bemusement on his face. âIt looks like weâve got a choice of playing parlour games with the chuckle twins over there,â he said, âor we could skip the kidsâ party and check out whatâs going on downstairs.â
âParlour games?â Ruby said. âWho plays parlour games anymore?â
The doors to the room suddenly opened. In the entrance was a tiny woman, wrapped in a shawl so tight it gave the appearance of being the only thing holding her bones together. Her skin was the colour of a used teabag and sat so tight on her frame it looked like she would split open in a high wind. On either side of her stood two of the palest children Gerald had ever seen.
âUh, hello?â Gerald said.
The woman fixed him with a rifle stare.
âYou are Gerald?â she said. It was more accusation than question.
âUh, yes,â Gerald said.
The woman prodded the pale boy between the shoulder blades, pushing him into the room. âThis one is Wendell.â She repeated the shove on the girl. âThis one is Caroline.â
The pair stood knock-kneed on the rug.
Octavia glared at Wendell. âWhat are you doing here?â Then, in an appalled tone, âYouâre not friends with the princess, are you?â
Gerald latched his hand onto Rubyâs arm, holding her back. âEasy tiger,â he said.
âWe live next door,â the boy said in a barely audible peep. âOur parents are at the party downstairs.â
Octavia crossed her arms and ran an appraising eye over the newcomers. âAnd what did you come dressed as? A glass of water and a wisp of smoke?â
The pair stared saucer-eyed at Octavia, not sure what to say.
âNever mind her,â Gerald said, rescuing them. âShe has a condition.â
âWhat sort of condition?â Caroline asked, making sure to keep well clear of Octavia as Gerald ushered them towards the buffet.
âShe gets cranky is she hasnât feasted on human blood,â Ruby said.
The doors shut with a solid thud. The woman made her way to an armchair and settled herself.
âYou will play snakes and ladders now,â she said. She extended a bony finger in the direction of the games table.
Octavia screwed up her nose. âI hardly think people of our age are going to play snakes andââ
âNOW!â
The noise that erupted from the womanâs throat rattled the windows.
Gerald led a slow march towards the table. âExcuse me,â he said to the woman. âWho are you?â
The woman pulled a packet of cigarettes from a beaded case. She pushed a cigarette into the end of a black holder, which she then clamped between her teeth. She lit the end, snapping the lighter shut with a practised flick of her wrist. The cigarette tip glowed and crackled as the woman drew in a seemingly endless breath. Finally, she expelled two jets of smoke from her nostrils.
âDo you mind?â Octavia coughed.
The look on the womanâs face clearly showed that she did not. She ashed the cigarette into a bowl of peanuts on a side table.
âYour task is to play games,â the woman rasped. âShut up and do it.â
The seven of them pulled up chairs around a card table. Gerald was taking the lid from an ancient box of snakes and ladders when the