Finding Abby

5

Our local pub, Mickey Bourke's, is jam packed. It's Saturday night, so nothing unusual. Plenty of people from around town I recognise. A couple of other kids from school with their parents are out for the night. The stale smell of chip oil and vinegar and beer wafts up from the thick carpet.

When I walk in with Ben and Mum, I'm kind of proud I'm with them. Ben's obviously a stand-out with his out-of-towner look, long curly hair and cool swagger. Everyone knows me and Mum but they stare because she's got a bit dressed up and has make-up on and this flowery black and white number I helped her choose online once. I've never seen her wear it outside the house. She only ever wears leggings or her work clothes.

She looks pretty tonight. She's slight and fragile beside Ben, like a delicate, dry leaf - easily crushed. When we stepped up onto the big gutter outside the pub earlier, I could tell Ben wanted to hold her by the elbow as if she were a doddery old grandma. He put his hand behind the small of her back but didn't dare touch her. He's all tall and sloth-like beside her. I'm tall but not as tall as him but I'm taller than Mum. She really is tiny. Everyone tells me I'm athletic. I figure my dad must've been tall and athletic too.

I have this tiny moment when we walk through the restaurant to our table where I imagine Ben is my dad and we're a normal family going out for a normal dinner on a normal Saturday night. I watch him stride to our table and pull out the chairs for Mum, and then me. Mum actually looks relaxed and happy when she sits down, a tiny smile on her usually blank face. A thrill pushes through me when Ben passes us the menus and says he's skipping the main and going straight for the ice-cream sundae. I know this is such a stupid small thing to focus on, but I can't help think: This is what it's like. This is what a family does. This is how it feels.

But then Mum had to go and ruin it when she accidentally knocked her fork off the table, almost crying like it's the most embarrassing thing in the whole world.

"So ..." I lean forward and tap my fingers together, surveying Ben across the table once we're settled in and he's asked the waiter for a new fork for Mum. He's pouring a glass of wine and his cheeks are rosy. "How come you and Mum haven't seen each other for so long?"

Mum holds her hand out to stop Ben filling her glass to the top and gives Ben a look.

"I guess moving to Queensland doesn't help," Ben says, filling his own glass.

"But if you were such good friends," I probe, "why'd it take you so long?"

Ben shoots my Mum a glance. He puts the bottle of wine down on the table and says, "Some things aren't mine to explain to you, Jenna."

I groan and sit back in my chair. "Are you kidding me?"

"Jenna." Mum places her hand flat on the table. "Let's have a nice dinner. No more questions."

"I've asked one question!" I say, my voice rising.

"Jenna's going to university next year," Mum says to Ben. "She's going to study something to do with water—"

"It's a Bachelor of Science, Mum. I told you a million times. I want to work in oceanography or marine science or something - I'm not sure yet."

"Yeah?" Ben smiles at me, probably relieved the conversation has turned normal. "I did a science degree. I work up in Townsville at the—"

"She's moving to Melbourne," Mum butts in, "to live in college."

"Which uni?" Ben asks. "Which college?"

I look over at Mum; wait for her to answer. Because she seems to suddenly know so much about me.

Mum fiddles with the prongs on her fork and her gaze shifts over to the door like she wants to run.