Pictures of Lily

flight?’
    ‘Long,’ I reply as an annoying blowfly buzzes around my face.
    ‘I thought Lily might like to get out of the house,’ Michael explains.
    ‘Great stuff. And what’s your mum up to?’
    I shrug. ‘She’s at, er, the house.’ I can’t quite bring myself to say ‘home’.
    ‘Well, we’ve all been dying to meet her. And you, of course. Better get on. Got to go see Trudy about my timesheet. Have a good one!’ he calls over his shoulder as he heads in the direction of the office off to our right.
    ‘Come on.’ Michael beckons.
    ‘Where are we going?’ I look around and can just make out stone-walled enclosures through the tree trunks.
    ‘First things first,’ he says, winking. ‘Let’s go and have a cuppa.’
    This man drinks a lot of tea.
    The staffroom has a basic kitchen, a couple of greeny-grey threadbare sofas and a table surrounded by six brown school-style chairs. There are a few people milling about and Michael introduces everyone individually. They’re all very welcoming and consequently my nerves start to fade.
    ‘Now, it’s up to you,’ Michael says to me after ten minutes of general chitchat and tea drinking. ‘I’ve got to muck out the wombats in a minute and you’re welcome to watch me shift the sh— poo , but I thought you might prefer to go for a wander instead. We open the doors to the general public at nine-thirty, but we don’t start feeding time until eleven, and that’s with the devils, so you’ve got a bit of time to kill. Maybe go see the roos. Hey, Janine, have you got a map handy?’
    A plain woman with mousy hair tied back into a low ponytail rummages around in a rucksack and hands over a map. Michael unfolds it and pinpoints where the staffroom is.
    ‘This is where you are now. If you want to see those deadly spiders I told you about, you have to go to this building here.’
    I grimace my reply.
    ‘No, maybe not. Right then,’ he continues. ‘The devils are here, the koalas are over here, and the dingoes a bit further round to your right. We feed the dingoes after lunch so it’s worth coming to hear my little lecture.’ He nudges me. ‘And this large paddock here is where you’ll find the roos and the emus. Wallabies are here . . .’
    ‘Thanks,’ I interrupt, holding out my hand for the map. I’m keen to get going.
    ‘Oh, right, yes – here you go, darl.’ He hands it over. ‘Getting a bit carried away, but of course you’re old enough to read.’
    ‘I hope so.’ I smile. ‘Will you be at the Tasmanian Devils at eleven?’
    ‘Yep, I’m doing the talk so I’ll see you there.’
    Map in hand, I walk out of the staffroom feeling full of anticipation as I head in the direction of the kangaroos. There’s a slight breeze in the air and I can hear the rustle of the leaves in the nearby trees as I amble along the path towards the boundary fence. Pushing through the gate, I find myself in a large paddock. Off in the distance there’s a group of kangaroos. The asphalt path circles the perimeter, but if I want to get close to the wildlife, I have to go cross-country. I pluck up the courage and leave the footpath, dead eucalyptus leaves crunching and crackling under my feet as I go.
    The kangaroos regard me with mild interest as I excitedly venture towards their gathering. There are well over a dozen of them, lying in the shade of an enormous tree, a couple propped up on one elbow in an almost-human fashion. They have a reddish tinge to their fur and their ears twitch to ward off the flies. They’re much prettier than I imagined they would be from all the photos and wildlife documentaries I’ve seen. I keep my distance, not wanting to bother them, but they don’t seem phased by my presence so after a while I relax and turn my face up to the sun. The clear blue sky stretches out overhead and I soon feel the bite of the heat.
    Stepping into the shade of the tree, I take off my sweatshirt and tie it around my waist before liberally applying some Factor 30 sun-cream. There isn’t another person in sight and a pleasant feeling washes over me because I like being alone like this. I have a sudden desire to sit down on the grass and stay there for hours, but a scuffling noise brings me back to reality with a bump. A large roo has risen to his feet and is sitting on his haunches, facing me. My heart starts to quicken as he slowly advances. If he wants a boxing match, I’m a goner. It fleetingly occurs to me that that would teach my parents .