‘That’s an amazing story. Did you have a job in Bulgaria?’
‘Yes.’ Rosa puffed up her chest. ‘I seamstress. Best in my city. Make clothes for all important people. Dress for daughter of Prime Minister when she got married. I make this dress. Best wedding dress in whole of Bulgaria. I get good money for all these clothes I make, but my crazy husband throw it all away.’
‘Could you get a job as a seamstress here?’
‘Maybe. But I need samples. Need good machine, material, thread, scissors. All that stuff. I’m at factory all day, too tired to think about anything else. If I had good machine in my house, those women sell it. I need break, and no one going to give old Bulgarian woman break. That okay, I happy.’
I leaned my head against the window and watched the trees whizz by at the side of the road. A crazy plan, not quite as crazy as donkey cheese pizza, popped into my head.
‘Did you know I’m getting married this summer?’
‘Yes. We all know this. Janice heard your man shout in church about it too poor and ugly.’
‘Oh. Right. I don’t think that quite… Anyway. Would you like to make my bridesmaid dresses for me? I can’t pay you much, but I can chip in enough to buy you all the stuff you need. If we got a decent machine second-hand. And you can have the dresses afterwards, use them as samples.’
And me!my heart whispered.Make me a lovely dress, too!
Rosa gripped my hand in hers. ‘You mean this? You let me make dresses for your beautiful wedding, special day?’
‘Yes. I would love you to.’
‘I make you really good dresses, Faith. I not do cheap, bad dresses look like little girl at party or from cartoon. My dresses classy. What you say… tasty.’
I smiled. ‘Tasteful.’
‘Yes! Good, good dresses. Beautiful, perfect fit. Right shape for each person. Show little bit bosom but not so men look bosom, not face.’
‘Fantastic. I don’t want men looking at my bridesmaids’ bosoms.’
‘So, how many dresses you going to need? Who you got for bridesmaid?’
Ah. That would depend upon who was controlling my wedding.
‘Can I get back to you on that?’
‘Yes, yes, lovely Faith. You get back to me whenever you want. I happy before, but now I really happy. I not even mind those women take my coat any more.’
I dreamt of Kane again that night. Dark, twisty dreams full of cracked, muddled images and dormant memories. My mother, little more than a shadow to me now, calling me, her hands frantic as she scooped up my pathetic pile of clothes into a bag, tossing in my favourite stuffed koala and a book.
‘Come on now, Rachel. We have to hurry. Get dressed, quickly now!’
‘Where’s Liam? I want Liam.’
‘He’s packing. Why aren’t you dressed yet? Hurry, we’ve got to hurry. He’s coming, Rachel!’
But it was one of those dreams where no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get ready, couldn’t dress. Every time I looked down, I still wore my faded pyjamas. The panic attacked my throat as my mother grew even more frantic. ‘Quickly, Rachel, quickly. He’s coming!’
Liam hid me in the wardrobe, right at the back and made me promise to stay there, stay quiet.
‘Just for a little while, while me and Mummy talk to Kane. And then we’ll get our bags and go, Rachel. We’ll go far away to somewhere he can’t get us, and live in a nice new house with a swing and your own bedroom with pink walls. But now, it’s very important. Stay here, and don’t come out. Don’t look and don’t make a sound. Promise me?’
I stayed there, even when the screaming and the crashing started. So loud I thought the house was falling down around the little wardrobe where I crouched, holding on to the promise of my brother.
Then the wardrobe door opened, but in my dream it wasn’t my mother, or Liam. Nor the policeman who found me all those years ago.
Snake leaned in, his thin lips glistening, irises bloodshot and bulging. ‘You can’t get away, Rachel.’ He giggled. ‘I’m coming and you can’t get away.’
I leaned back in the wardrobe, burying myself deeper and deeper under the pile of clothes, so deep I couldn’t see, couldn’t hear his gurgling laughter, couldn’t breathe.
