Chapter 21
Mary had met a man. Well, of course she had — she always did. Charlie shaded her eyes from the afternoon sun, and watched from the window as her mother climbed into his battered old Buick. It was disgusting to see her giggling like a girl, flirting and simpering with pony-tailed Carlos. They’d met at the hospital and bonded over cigarettes smoked outside on the street. It was a perfect match. Two ageing hippies, behaving like teenagers, not realising how pathetic and embarrassing they were.
The car drove off. It grew smaller and smaller, turned left around a corner and vanished. Charlie grabbed her giant soft-toy frog and collapsed on the bed in tears. She’d imagined that life in this East Melbourne apartment would have been a big improvement on the hospital. No more gowns or
