Mostly Sunny with a Chance of Storms (13 page)

‘And a cup of tea?’ said Dad, looking up from the paper. ‘Be a love, Sunny, and put the kettle on, would you? We’ll make a pot.’

I filled the kettle at the tap while remembering I’d been saving up my angel questions for Guff. ‘That reminds
me, Guff,’ I said. ‘I’ve been meaning to ask – do you think angels are a way dead people communicate with the people left behind?’

Guff looked a little shocked. I guess she’d just been thinking about soup all afternoon.

‘Lordy, Sunny! I presume you’re talking about your grandmother?’ she said, passing me a bowl of steaming-hot soup. ‘You must miss her, huh?’ She unwrapped the bread and cut me off a big fresh slice. ‘Butter?’

‘Yes please. Do you believe in angels, Guff?’ I asked. ‘I mean, it’s fine not to, it’s just that I saw one the other day, and I thought maybe it was Granny Carmelene trying to give me a message or something.’

Guff shot Dad an anxious look as he peered up momentarily from the paper. It was as if each was hoping the other one would come up with the answer. I dipped my bread in the soup and took a bite.

‘Mmm, delicious,’ I said.

Dad had suddenly busied himself making tea, probably so that he didn’t have to get involved in a conversation about spirits and angels. Then he started humming to himself, which is Dad’s version of having a
Do Not Disturb
sign on his forehead. He also made extra loud clunking noises with the crockery.

‘Sorry, Guff,’ I said. ‘It’s just that you’ve got those angel cards and all. I thought you might have inside information.’

‘Gosh, okay, um, I have heard of angel-sightings, Sunny, but I’ve not actually seen one myself.’

‘Do you think it’s possible to see an angel on a surveillance monitor? I mean, you know how vampires don’t show up in mirrors or on film? Is it the same with angels do you think?’

‘I honestly couldn’t tell you, Sunny,’ said Guff. ‘Guff?’ I said, sensing it might be time to change the topic.

‘Yep.’

‘Why is your name Guff?’

‘Hasn’t your dad told you?’ she said, chuckling (probably with relief). Even Dad stopped humming and clunking. ‘Like many nicknames it came about because when I was small I couldn’t say my name properly.’

‘How do you get Guff out of Justine?’

‘I used to say Guffgeen, apparently. I don’t know, I was probably only two years old at the time, but the Guff part stuck.’

‘Do they call you Guff at work?’

‘Yep.’

‘What about if you went on a date, would you say,
Hi, I’m Guff
?’

‘Well maybe not if it was a complete stranger. What’s with all the questions, Sunny?’

‘Nothing really, just wondering.’

‘Is it sad not having your grandmother around?’

Dad started humming again as he got the milk out of the fridge.

‘It is lately,’ I said. ‘But luckily I managed to get my hands on some Woe-Be-Gone grief repellent. Bruce and Terry put me onto it.’

‘Who the hell are Bruce and Terry?’ Dad asked.

‘They’re grief bouncers. They stop sad thoughts getting in. I mean, it’s not exactly easy moving into a house that someone just died in. Anyway, Bruce and Terry have been great, but now I’m thinking that Granny Carmelene might actually be still around. You know, in the form of an angel. We’re trying to prove it by catching the angel on Lyall’s surveillance camera. I’ve also got a new friend called Finn, who knits and who no one’s even met. He’s coming around on Monday with a box full of pigeons.’

‘Ah ha,’ said Guff looking bewildered.

‘That explains everything,’ said Dad, heading back to the paper.

‘I kind of have to replace Claud, you dig?’

‘Replace?’

‘Since Buster came along, I’ve lost my one-on-one friend, and, well, I need a new best friend. It’s really clear.’

‘Of course.’

‘Have you been dating much yourself, Guff?’

‘I’ve given up, Sunny. Most dates I’ve been on lately
have bored me to tears, and I’m not really sold on this one-on-one thing, Sunny. It’s like the whole world is only set up for couples and families. What happens to the people who aren’t part of a couple-centric ideal?’ Guff suddenly looked puffed up and angry. ‘And I’m just not buying into it, to be perfectly frank, Sunny’

‘Frank? Who’s Frank?’ I asked.

‘Sunny Hathaway, you are
incorrigible
!’ said Guff.

Later on, I typed ‘angel sightings’ into YouTube. There were heaps of clips, but to be frank (which Guff had told me actually means
straightforward
and
to the point
), I couldn’t actually
see
an angel in any of them. Most of what were meant to be angels were just blurry marks that could have been something on the camera lens, like fluff, or a spider. In one clip there were just tiny white dots, and no matter how many different ways I looked at them I couldn’t see an angel, just tiny white dots.

My
angel was an angel of the traditional variety, with fluttery wings and a halo of golden light. So I googled for more info, but there was mostly stuff about guardian angels and how we’re all meant to have been born with seven of them. I couldn’t find a thing about angels that might be your grandmother or acting on your grandmother’s behalf. Nothing at all.

Still, it wasn’t that I needed proof or anything. I’m no
sceptic like Lyall. I believe all sorts of stuff without needing solid evidence. Because when I know something is true, it’s not just a knowing I get in my head, but a knowing I get with my entire body.

Dad dropped me
back at Windermere on his way to work on Monday morning. I was dead excited because Finn was coming over at ten o’clock.

‘Getting a bit of work done?’ said Dad, nodding at the two vans from Green Plumbing parked in the driveway.

‘We’re getting rainwater tanks put in, and a grey water system for the garden, and solar hot water as well as solar everything else.’

‘All very environmental of you,’ said Dad.

‘It’s Carl,’ I said. ‘He says sustainability is everyone’s responsibility.’

‘Mmm,’ said Dad. ‘He’s probably right.’ He gave me a kiss on the cheek. ‘I’ll see you on Thursday. Can you make your own way over?’

‘Sure,’ I said, stepping out of the car. ‘But Dad, does Steph actually
mind
me coming?’ I asked.

‘Course not! Besides, it’s not up to Steph, it’s up to me. See you Thursday.’

If you ask me, the way Dad answered me sounded pretty much like Steph
did
mind me being there. If Steph
really
didn’t mind surely Dad would have put up much more of a fight to try to convince me otherwise. The thing is, I was starting to mind
Steph
being there. With her moods lately, I’d started wishing it could just be me, Dad and Flora.

Willow came running as soon as she heard the gate click open and threw herself at my feet and squirmed around on her back. I leant down and gave her some friendly dog-slaps on her big pokey-out greyhound chest.

‘Oh, Willow, you’re seriously
not
normal!’ I said. Then she flipped back onto her legs in one movement and raced me to the front door, managing to cram in two laps of the rose garden and a few quick Washing Machines on her way.

‘Hel-lo!’ I yelled out as I opened the door. I could hear noises in the kitchen and could smell toast and coffee.

‘Hi, sweetheart!’ said Mum appearing in the entrance hall. She gave me a big hug and a kiss. ‘I’m glad you’re back. How’s your little sister?’

‘Mum, were you all grumpy with me when I was a baby? Like, when I cried or was hungry, was it a giant hassle?’

‘Sunday! Of course not. Sleep deprivation is no fun, though. It’s a form of torture. Have you had brekkie?’

‘Yep,’ I said. ‘Mum, I seriously think Steph doesn’t want me there. Maybe Dad only has me over because he has to.’

‘I’m sure that’s not true, love. She’s probably just—’

‘And most of all I’m worried for Flora because Steph never smiles at her or makes goo-goo noises, or even hardly
looks
at her, and it just makes me feel so empty and sad, and I’m sure Flora feels it too, and you’re not meant to feel empty and sad when you’re a baby, Mum. You’re meant to feel like absolutely everything is all right.’ My voice got a little quivery and I got a big case of throat ache.

‘Oh, Sunny,’ said Mum giving me a hug which made everything all the more quivery and achy. ‘I’m sorry it’s such a difficult time, darling.’ She swept my hair back behind my ears. ‘I know you love Flora, but you really mustn’t feel so responsible for her. You’ll worry yourself sick. Flora will be all right. You’ll see.’

Why don’t you go and look out back?’ said Mum. ‘Lyall and Saskia worked all afternoon yesterday on an obstacle course for your dog business.’

I looked at my watch. I had two hours before Finn came over, presuming he was an on-time person. At least by then I wouldn’t look so weepy. Let’s face it, you really should hold back from crying in front of extremely new new best friends.

I stood on the back steps and blew my nose into a tissue. There were tradesmen everywhere, including all over the roof. Windermere was a construction zone. Carl had pegged out a whole area of lawn at the side of the vegetable garden, that I guessed was destined to become the community plots. I noticed Settimio leaning against his picket fence. He looked bewildered, as if maybe he thought the whole house was about to get bulldozed. I waved to him but he didn’t wave back. It could have been that he had bad eyesight. Maybe that’s how he got himself all banged up.

There was a flat area of lawn at the edge of the garden, right before it sloped down to the river bank. That’s where Lyall and Saskia had set up their obstacle course, if
course
was the right word for what seemed to me to be a mess of strings, sticks and balls among a few witches hats.

I had to fight back a pang of jealousy that I wasn’t a part of making it, but mostly I just wondered where the witches hats had come from. I had a strong feeling in my intuition that Lyall would have stolen them, for sure. That’s exactly the sort of thing Lyall does.
Boy,
I thought to myself,
I go away for two days and the whole house is turned upside down!

At exactly ten o’clock the doorbell rang. I was up in my room neatening things up a little. I couldn’t find my favourite
stripy hoodie anywhere and finally gave up looking for it when I remembered I must have left it at Dad’s. I grabbed my second favourite non-stripy hoodie instead. I was glad Finn was an on-time person, like me. Seriously, I don’t know why most people bother having a watch, other than to tell them how late they’re running. Especially Dad and Claud.

Willow ran to the door with me, but I had to shut her in the library until I’d sussed out the pigeon situation. She gave me a look as if to say,
Well, all right, Sunny, but if I’m in here for too long I’ll pee and I can’t guarantee it won’t be on the rug.

‘Oh, Willow,’ I said gently closing the library door. ‘Please don’t.’

I took a deep breath and opened the front door. Finn was standing there in a navy-blue pinstriped suit jacket, strange jeans and his new stripy scarf. He was holding a flat crate with a wooden lid.

‘Sunny Hathaway,’ he said. ‘Nice pad! You rich or something?’

‘No, my grandma was – I think – don’t know really. We kind of just got given the place.’

There was a sudden loud banging from the workmen on the roof, and Finn looked up quizzically.

‘Solar panels,’ I said. ‘Carl says we’re going to make enough power to feed some back into the grid.’

‘Sweet,’ said Finn, still standing there with his box full of birds and an
are you going to invite me in
look on his face.

‘Oh, you can leave the box on the porch if you like. Come in, Finn. You can meet my mum.’

Finn turned out to be one of those friends who are especially good at making parents like them, which you have to admit is a pretty handy life skill. He even drank herbal tea, which really rocked Mum’s world because she’s so used to kids who argue all the time about who finished all the juice. To top it off, Finn asked Mum all about her work. I mean, what friend ever does
that
? Come to think of it, even
I
don’t. It was as though Finn actually
liked
talking to my mum. Weird.