Page 48 of A Murder is Going Down

There’s no chance for Patrick to say more or for me to mount a spirited defence of my brother because Ben’s car has pulled up outside Aunty Sam’s.

‘Will you let us know if you go to visit this Adam guy?’ Lilia asks, sticking her head out the window. ‘Ben could drive you,’ she adds, correctly identifying the only card they have to play.

‘Don’t call us. We’ll call you,’ Patrick says.

I’m still fighting a smile when we get inside.

‘Hello, hello,’ Patrick says, stopping so suddenly thatI step on his heel. Aunty Sam, Elena and Michael are sitting together on the couch. If I’d ever touched drugs, I might think this was an intervention. I have to remind myself that they all have a reason to be here, Michael having now moved in with the rest of his siblings.

‘Where have you guys been?’ Michael asks, looking between the two of us. Patrick and I have a short conversation with our eyes. Unfortunately, he fails to act on the message I’m transmitting –make up a convincing cover story.

‘Visiting a friend,’ I say after a too-long pause.

‘A friend,’ Patrick repeats like a back-up singer.

‘You havemutual friends?’ Michael asks, raising one shaggy eyebrow sceptically. (I’ve always wished I could do that.)

‘Heidi and I go way back,’ Patrick says.

‘You’ve never mentioned it,’ Michael says.

‘I have a rich and fulfilling private life.’

‘That seems unlikely.’

‘Now that you’re back,’ Aunty Sam says a bit too loudly, which might be due to the open bottle of champagne on the coffee table or might be her trying to change the subject, ‘do you want to sit down? We’re celebrating.’

‘Michael’s finally potty-trained?’ Patrick says brightly.

‘I’ve had some news,’ Aunty Sam says. ‘Freddy and Teddy are doing a US tour and they want me to come along.’

‘Congratulations,’ I say, meaning it.

Freddy and Teddy – Frederick and Theodore legally butonly to people they hate – are a pair of jazz musicians who are about as famous as it’s possible for jazz musicians who live in Melbourne to be. (They’re not very famous.) They’re old friends of Aunty Sam’s and, when they came to visit her a couple of years ago,all three of themslept in the same bed, sofriendsmight not be the correct word. I do and do not want to ask if they’ll be sharing one hotel room on tour.

‘It’s not until July and I’ve already asked Elena if she’d be open to staying here to keep an eye on you,’ Aunty Sam goes on.

‘I’m fifteen,’ I say.

‘Exactly.’

‘Nearly sixteen.’

‘And yet neither of those ages would make you an adult capable of living alone,’ Aunty Sam says.

I smile at Elena to communicate the absence of hard feelings. The truth is I think I have too much imagination to stay here alone, wondering if every creak I hear in the night is a branch on the roof or my future murderer.

‘That’s not all of it,’ Aunty Sam says, squinting at the champagne and messily splashing some in the general direction of Elena and Michael’s glasses before filling her own. ‘On the strength ofthatfuture income I had a meeting with the bank today, who are going to help me buy Elena out of this place.’

‘Elena?’ Patrick frowns at his sister. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Felix owned part of this house,’ Elena says, lifting her full champagne glass, then setting it back down like it’s a bad idea. It’s the old-fashioned kind of glass – the one that’s supposed to be shaped like a boob, even if mine would struggle to fill it.

I look at Aunty Sam in surprise. ‘Since when?’

‘Years ago, when the landlord was going to sell this place and we were renting, Felix had his inheritance from your parents and offered to help me with the deposit. I’ve never really been in a position to repay him.’ She gets an expression on her face that I can’t quite place.

My inheritance, if you’re wondering, is all tied up in a trust until I’m eighteen. The way house prices have gone since Mum and Dad died, I’ll be lucky to afford a deposit on a garden shed with it.