The Scent of Apples by Jacquie McRae Read Free Book Online

shock quickly.
    â€˜I’m not in the mood for arguments. I’ll see you downstairs in thirty minutes.’
    She throws the hairbrush on my bed. I feel like I’ve won a small victory, but it’s short-lived. After she’s gone I just feel lonely.
    I recognise the voices in the kitchen before I see them. If you had asked me to write down the names of people it would most torture me to be with, I would write the names of the people sitting in the kitchen right now. Lucy’s high-pitched tone is unmistakable, and Ebony’s laughter too false to belong to anyone else.
    My heart bangs in my chest. I’d rather jump in a lake with piranhas than push the door open. As luck would have it, Mum chooses this second to come and find me.
    â€˜There you are, dear! I was just coming to get you.’ Her sickly sweet tone is so different to the voice she used in the bedroom that I wonder if I still might be a bit delirious.
    The whiteness of the kitchen is like a blow, and I have to keep blinking my eyes until they get used to it. Around the table sit Lucy, her mother, Ebony and Jaime, who’s not too bad, just stupid.
    Lucy props herself up on a barstool and runs her fingers through her long straight hair. I’m sure she checks her reflection in the stainless steel door of the fridge. I’m tempted to give her the heads up that her ridiculous padded yellow jacket, with black fur around the sleeves and the hood, makes her look like a festering sore.
    I steady myself by putting my hand on the back of a chair, but my knees won’t stop wobbling. I’m forced to sit. Lady Mayor swoops in and plants herself right in front of me.
    â€˜You poor thing.’ Her face is all twisted with pity.
    She’s a stupid woman, with stupid words that don’t deserve a reply.
    Lucy and I have as much in common as a fart and a handshake, and should never be put together, but for some reason both our mothers keep insisting we be friends. Mum likes to attach herself to people that have loads of money or an important surname, but I’m not sure what the deal is for Lady Mayor.
    As I look around the kitchen, I feel like I’ve been away on holiday instead of sick in an upstairs bedroom. I notice Nan’s rooster collection has gone from the sideboard.
    â€˜Where are the roosters, Mum?’
    â€˜They’re all covered in dust, so I’ve taken them away to clean.’
    â€˜What do you mean, you’ve taken them away to clean?’
    All eyes look my way.
    â€˜I put them in the laundry and I’ll clean them when I have more time. Anyway,’ Mum smiles around the table, ‘perhaps you girls would like to see the barn?’
    I’m still trying to process the fact that the roosters have been removed, but the mention of the barn makes my heart skip a beat. Why the hell would she want me to show the girls the barn now? She must be up to something.
    An image of Poppa in his overalls, with a smile on his face as he leans over a crate of this year’s cider, flashes in my mind. I shut it down. The thought of taking anyone over to the barn, pushing open those big wide doors and finding crates of cider and silence is too sad for me to even think about.
    â€˜I’d love to see the barn,’ Lucy says.
    I put my head in my hand as the other girls agree.
    â€˜The fresh air will do you good.’ Mum reaches out and pulls me up by my hands.
    The floor seems to shift under my feet as I make my way to the door. Jaime appears beside me, and takes my elbow. I sway into her when I notice that someone has removed Poppa’s gumboots from the row at our back door.
    It’s the first time I’ve been outside since the day of the funeral. I’m stunned to find it unchanged. I take the path that leads away from the barn and head towards the river. The girls follow in a gaggle behind. Up above, the sky is an amazing shade of cornflower blue – the kind of blue that would