At the shopping centre Coco and Sylvie are still deep in conversation about how their brother stole a car, and they never could have imagined, and how stupid he was.
We walk down the rows and rows of fancy dresses, costing more than I've ever had in my life.
"How will I pay for this?" I whisper. "I don't have a job."
Coco turns and smiles at me. "We'll pay for it. Me and Sylvie and Ruel."
"Did you ask him?"
"Nah, if he refuses mum can access his bank account."
I give a small smile and we find a rack of dresses that suits the dress code. Ballgowns, more like.
My eyes go wide. These are the sort of things you only see in dreams or fairytales. Bright colours, rows of pleats, smothers of deep, heavy velvet.
"Let's try on five each." Suggests sylvie. This limit is good because I've already weakened at the sight of ten different dresses and my mind is already trying to decide.
We separate and go up and down the rows, tripping over the fabric that is falling over the edges of the racks.
I choose five, which all together weight about a tonne, and see coco and Sylvie stumbling towards me with their armfuls of fabric.
We find a change room that is overly large accomodating for the size of the dresses. All three of us squeeze in and close the red curtain across the door.
"Ok... Coco first."
She takes off her jeans and jumper leaving her just in undergarments and we help her step into the first dress- sky blue, off shoulder, heavy silk covered in a layer of thin chiffon adorned with pearls.
We look at it from every angle and then help her out and into the next one. And again. And again.
"Ok, Alira now."
I take off my leggings and singlet carefully, aches still crawling across my muscles.
The first dress looks like a wedding cake- it's completely pink chiffon, so many Layers that makes it Opaque. The top is V-necked with two thick straps. The whole stop of the dress has been stitched with shiny, thin threads that form roses.
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It's a struggle to get out and into the next one.
The wedding cake dress is followed by a navy, strapless silk gown that pulls on my boobs, a lace top tucked into an Alice blue skirt that falls to my ankles, a bright yellow number that makes me look like a lemon and then-
"Oh my." Exclaims coco.
I'm gorgeous. I love it.
"This is the one." I whisper.
It's deep, dark teal, the colour of the depths of the ocean during the night, and the pleats encase my tired body and enhance me beyond recognition. Light and shadow bounces off the shining, weighty silk, forcing my shoulders back seemingly in a confidant body position. I look amazing.
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Coco brushes my hair aside to look at the price tag. "Not too bad." But she hides it from my view.
I take it off again and feel lighter than air with the change of weight on top of me.
Sylvie is quick to choose the first dress she puts on- a provocative looking sheer red dress where intricate lace only just covers her.
We pay, and again coco covers the price tags from me and insists she pays. Then we find another shop for shoes. It doesn't take long for us to choose. I choose a pair of black velvety pumps.
We're just exiting the store when a pair of girls catch my eye. They're looking at coco and Sylvie, muttering, grinning. One of them plucks up the courage to come up to Coco.
"Is it true he stole a car?!" She babbles. We don't ask who 'he' is.
Coco doesn't know how to answer. Anger is bubbling up inside me- how dare they intrude on our lives. Then I remember a Ruel is famous. And that's how it works.
I step between Coco and the girl.
"What do you want?" I ask, a little to harshly. She almost giggles. I must look a bit funny to be taking a stand, the bags under my eyes almost look like bruises, I still have my medical bracelet on and a bandage on my wrist where the IV was.
The girls look me up and down, sneak another look at Coco and Sylvie, then strut off.
"That happens all the time. You shouldn't have worried." Mutters Sylvie. But she's smiling in amusement so it doesn't come across frighteningly.
We decide to go home and look through the jewellery they already have rather than buy some more.
When we get back to their house it's empty and quiet.
There's a letter on the doormat so I pick it up.
RUEL VINCENT VAN DIJK
from the New South Wales police force
This can't be good. I know Kate won't be happy if she sees it so I creep upstairs to go out it on his bed.
The room is dark and he's in bed, fast asleep. Stealing cars must be tiring.
I put the letter down on his bedside table and sit on the edge of the bed.
He seems so peaceful in sleep. No scowl, no look of regret. Pure.
I resist the urge to brush a lock of hair off his face, or do something hopelessly cliche like kiss him.
So I stand up, leave, and close the door softly behind me.
