Page 48 of Kiwi Sin

“You’re right,” I said. “Newborns are fragile. You have to be very careful, and very clean.”

Amira said, “Most people don’t like to clean up babies, because they can have sticky poo on them, and it’s very stinky, and sometimes it’sgreen. They say they want Mummy’s job, but then they don’t want to do the washing and things. One lady said she couldn’t bend down to get the props out because she had bad knees, but I think she was just too fat.”

Yasmin, the quieter girl, said, “You aren’t supposed to say that people are fat.”

“I am if theyarefat,” Amira said.

“No,” Laila said, but I could tell she was trying not to laugh. “Not even if theyarefat. It’s rude, eh, Oriana.”

“Yes,” I said, “and if you charge heaps of money to take photographs of people’s babies, you have to be nice to them. I sell things at the farmer’s market, and people buy more if you’re nice to them. If you offer them a biscuit with honey on it, they’re more likely to buy the honey. And if you smile and feel glad to see them, anddon’ttell them they’re fat.”

“It wasn’t aclient,”Amira said. “It was just alady.”

“Well,” I said, “ladies who’ve just had babies are usually a bit fat, too. That’s normal. They shouldn’t have to feel bad about it. It’s heaps of work, having a baby, and shrinking back’s work, too.”

“But the baby’soutalready,” Amira said. “And—”

“Never mind,” Laila said. “We can talk about it later. Come on, Oriana.”

Through a door and into the studio, and Laila said, “I’ll have a babysitter for the girls while they’re on their holidays, so you won’t have to wrangle Amira or tape her mouth shut so she doesn’t call some poor woman fat, when she can still barely sit down from having pushed out a nine-pound bub four days ago.”

“Kids say all sorts of things,” I agreed. “I think that’s why I like them.” It was easy to talk to Laila, despite my earlier nerves. Maybe because she thought her kids were funny.

“Mm,” she said. “You have brothers and sisters, then.”

“Yes,” I said, then went ahead and added, “Eleven of them.”

“Eleven.”She stared.

“Yes,” I said, attempting to sound breezy. “Heaps of cousins as well. That’s how I know about newborns. I come from a very, er, fertile family.”

“Evidently,” Laila said. “Why do you want this job, exactly?”

“Because it sounds like the best job in the world.”

“Even with the sticky green poo.”

I laughed. “Even so. I’d love to watch what you do. I’d love to help. I like to … to be helpful to people. Cooking for them, and cleaning, and just …helping.I know it’s not what girls are meant to like, not maths or science or …”

“Really?” Laila asked. “Not boys, or clothes?”

“Oh,” I said. “No. Mostly, at my house, it’s about liking serious things. I’m a bit odd, for my family. Now. For my family now.”

I was entangling myself. Any minute now, I’d blurt out “Mount Zion,” and the whole thing would be over. Ididn’thave an enormous knot of hair at my nape anymore, and I wasn’t wearing a cap and apron, but I still felt like it.

Laila didn’t seem to notice. She said, “School holidays begin next week. Could you start work on Monday morning?”

“Yes,” I said. “But you said through February fifteenth. I’d help any way I could, even once I’m back at school, but I do have to go back. My sister says—” I snapped my mouth shut.

Laila put her head on one side and studied me. “Your sister says what?”

“That I have to go back. She had to work hard to get her schooling. She’s a nurse. She thinks nothing’s more important than going to school all the way through and passing all your NCEA levels so you can go to university. So I couldn’t help you after February, not during the school day. I understand if that doesn’t work for you,” I hurried to add. “You shouldn’t feel bad.”

She was smiling. “I don’t feel bad, no worries. And I’ll give you a try anyway, shall I? Can you come on Sunday afternoon for a couple of hours so we can practice with a doll, and I can show you the props and explain?”

“You mean I have the job?” I couldn’t believe it.

“What,” she asked, “don’t you want the job?”