The Keeper's Daughter

Chapter 2

I finally make it to the spot where my street's mouth opens onto the main road. Cars bump and bounce as they join other cars, creating snakes that go on forever. Horns sound and drivers curse, yelling at one another to move. People on bikes with spikes protruding from their helmets weave in and out of the vehicles, most just missing the perfect paint that covers every car.

Yellow buses rise above the throng, their passengers on phones with headphones obscuring the noise. On the second level of each bus, right at the very front four seats, sit children. Their hands are pressed against the glass and they laugh, holding stuffed animal toys that they clearly got from Toronga.

The rumble of sea planes overhead urges me to look up at the sky. An expanse of bright blue, painted with fluffy, cotton like clouds that slowly drift. They create shapes and stories, a fire breathing dragon chasing a turtle and a mermaid diving into a pool of fish.

Seagulls attack pedestrians who hold parcels of fish and chips wrapped in yesterday's newspaper, many manage to take hold of their prizes before flying away in a flurry of motion. They are not as bad as the magpies though that guard the streets and swoop oncoming cyclists.

Hundreds of cockatoos fill the trees that line the roads, munching on seeds and dropping any that are not up to their standards on passerby's heads. Their white bodies are a contrast to the evergreen behind them and their yellow crests act as crowns that rest on their heads, giving them a sense of royalty. High above a group of black ones dance, their red tails bright against the other inky black feathers.

I groan at the thought of walking the rest of the way home. My house is the very last one on the cul-de-sac, this fact made even worse because the street is a very steep hill. I begin to journey up it, away from the noise the main road brings. The houses start out average sized but grow larger as I continue to walk. The tallest ones are covered in huge windows to glimpse a view of the beach.

I pass palm trees and bushes of lavender, surrounded by humming bees. The ground is littered with purple blossoms in every shade, each one has fallen like snow from the breathtaking jacarandas. I finally made it to my house, a large mediterranean styled building painted shiny white.

I open the door and skip up the stairs that meet me in the corridor, I can hear Mum's voice circling through the rooms upstairs. I enter the kitchen and find my eight year old sister Lulu attempting to make lamingtons. The benchtop is covered in streaks of melted chocolate, cake crumbs, smears of jam and coconut. Her hands are coated in a thick layer of chocolate and her mouth is surrounded with bright red jam.

"Lulu!" I cry, "what on earth are you doing?"

She glances up at me with big green eyes and gives me a toothy grin, "I'm making lamingtons for dessert."

I groan and stare at the mess she's made, "did Mum tell you that you were allowed to do this? Normally you're supposed to be supervised when baking."

Lulu nods, "I know but the oven isn't on because Mum helped me cook the sponge cake and told me that I could ice and jam them myself while she does some cleaning."

I glare at her cheeky face and watch in horror as she brings her face down to the pan of melted chocolate that sits on the bench and takes a ginormous lick, "ew Lulu! That's so gross, I don't believe you at all that Mum let you do this so I'll go get her so you can explain everything to her."

Lulu looks at me, takes another lick, sticks her dirty fingers in the jam tin before licking a large portion of the stuff and stuffing a piece of cake in her mouth, "but I'm telling the truth!" She wails.

"You are not!"

"Am too." She shoots back and I roll my eyes.

"Mum!" I scream at the top of my lungs, "Lulu messed up the kitchen."