Pictures of Lily

at him.
    Mum breaks away and turns to me. ‘This is Lily.’
    Michael comes over and places his hand on my shoulder. ‘Don’t get up, don’t get up,’ he insists, even though I was planning on doing no such thing. ‘Good to meet you, Lily.’
    Michael is in his early forties and older than Mum by about eight years. She was only nineteen when she had me. Mum’s five foot eight, but Michael doesn’t tower above her at about five foot ten, and he’s chunky compared to her slim physique. He has browny-grey hair, a weathered face and kind chocolate-brown eyes. His Australian accent is strong and his voice is loud, but he’s not overpowering. Despite all my intentions, I instantly like him. I wonder if he knows what he’s let himself in for?
    ‘Chuck the kettle on, son,’ he tells Josh. ‘I haven’t had a cuppa all morning.’ Josh complies and Michael lifts out a chair so it doesn’t scrape on the floor and sits down next to me. ‘How was your flight?’ He glances from Mum to me.
    ‘Fine, fine,’ Mum replies.
    ‘Long,’ I interject. ‘And the food was crap.’
    ‘Oh dear,’ Michael empathises. ‘I thought we’d have a barbie for lunch. If you’re still awake by then.’
    ‘Want another tea?’ Josh begrudgingly asks Mum and me.
    My mum glances into her mug. ‘Only if it’s not too much trouble.’
    ‘Of course it’s no trouble!’ Michael practically shouts. ‘Lily?’
    ‘No, thanks.’
    Josh gets on with the job.
    ‘Has my boy been looking after you?’ Michael asks.
    ‘Yes, very well,’ Mum replies.
    ‘Good.’
    ‘Pay up, then,’ Josh says to his dad, standing over the table with his hand held out.
    ‘Later, son, later.’ Michael bats him away.
    ‘Did your dad bribe you to be nice to us?’ I ask Josh, amused.
    ‘Twenty bucks,’ Josh confirms with a grin.
    ‘I reckon you were ripped off,’ I tell Josh.
    ‘I can see these two are going to be trouble,’ Michael says to Mum rather wearily.
    ‘Mmm,’ she replies.
    That evening, Michael takes my mum out for dinner. She came into my bedroom to talk to me about it this afternoon, soon after my alarm clock had hammered its way into my exhausted consciousness. My eyes felt as if someone had taken a nail file to them, but I didn’t want to stay in bed too long because I want to be able to sleep tonight.
    ‘Lily,’ she said. ‘Michael has asked me out to dinner.’
    ‘And?’
    ‘And I was wondering if it’s okay if I go.’
    ‘Why are you asking me? You don’t normally ask my permission to do things.’
    ‘No, it’s just that, well, I feel bad for deserting you on our first night in a new country . . .’
    ‘Oh, a guilt trip. Don’t worry about me, Mum, I’m used to looking after myself.’ She immediately looked crestfallen. ‘Seriously,’ I added, feeling bad, ‘go out and enjoy yourself. Get to know the guy. He seems nice.’
    Her face broke into a huge smile. ‘He does, doesn’t he?’
    ‘Yeah, so don’t dick him around like you did all the others.’ Sorry, but my generosity has its bounds.
    Josh is in the living room watching telly when I finally emerge from my bedroom. Mum and Michael went out half an hour ago.
    ‘I thought you were asleep,’ he says.
    ‘I was,’ I reply. ‘It’s a weird and wonderful phenomenon, but people tend to wake up again.’
    ‘I was about to order a pizza.’ He doesn’t acknowledge my witty sarcasm. ‘Have a look and see what you want.’ He hands me a takeaway menu and I flop down on the three-seater sofa. He’s sitting on a worn-out armchair in the same faded blue velvetine fabric, with his feet up on the pinewood coffee table. ‘Dad left us some money,’ he adds.
    ‘Ooh,’ I say. ‘Whoopdeedoo.’ He frowns at me and I struggle to keep a straight face as I study the menu. Spotting what I want immediately, I hand the menu back to him. ‘Can I have a crisp?’ I nod at the packet of cheese-flavoured Doritos on the coffee table.
    ‘Don’t you mean, “chip”?’
    ‘They’re called crisps where I come from.’
    ‘They’re called chips where you are now.’
    ‘I won’t be here for very long so I’m not going to change the way I speak.’
    ‘Is that right? Where are you going, then?’
    ‘Back to England, if you must know.’
    ‘And is your mum going with you?’
    ‘Why, don’t you want her here?’
    ‘If she makes my dad happy, she can stick around.’
    ‘I wouldn’t bet on that.’
    ‘Do you have to be such a pain in the arse?’ he