After washing a humongous pile of dishes for our Nan, Sal and I go to the pool. We’re rubbing baby oil and vinegar into each other's backs and sharing puffs on a Viscount that Sal pinched from her mum, and listening to Sal's new transistor. Kev, my pain of a brother, has racked off on Uncle Jim's bike, thank God. We hear shouting and laughing at the gate and try not to watch the boys who are walking in. Tony, who I'm rapt in, is with them. I flop back down on my towel and close my eyes, hoping to look older and skinnier.

'Has Tony seen us?' I ask.

'I don't think so, anyway I'm more interested in Mark. In the blue singlet. Look at him Libby, he's a spunk.'

The boys wrestle and swear their way towards our spot, settling on a bit of concrete to our right. They haven't noticed us. Sal turns the volume up when AC/DC come on, and the boys start to belt out the song with them.

Tony looks at me just as I look at him. I feel my face burning. Sal is talking to Mark and he's asking us to a party up at Gormy tonight, he's borrowed a car. Sal is saying yes, telling him we'll come but we'll have to sneak out after dark. One of the boys throws a can at the bin behind us and a drop of beer lands on my shoulder.

—

We're having cold mutton and boiled spuds for tea but I feel hot from sunburn and nervous about later, and hardly eat anything. Nan asks if I am feeling alright because ‘it's not like you to turn down food Libby’. Kev laughs so I kick him in the shins. Sal says that she's tired from all the jobs Nan made us do today and she might go to bed early. ‘Me too,’ I say. So we kiss Nan and Pop goodnight and head up the hallway.

We're sharing the bed that two of our aunties used to sleep in, and their old potty under it. Neither of us wants to use the disgusting thing, but it’s a long dark trip to the back yard toilet at night.

'Do you still want to be an air hostess?' I ask.

'Yeah I do, I want to fly around the world and be free. But Mum measured me the other day, I'm still only five feet. Oh Lib, I don't want to be stuck here in Queenie forever, pushing out babies like her,' she sighs.

'Jeez I only need another two inches.'

'I'm sure you'll get them, Nan reckons you've still got a few years left before you stop growing.'

'Yeah but neither of the aunties grew over five one.'

—

The olds eventually creak off to their room. We hear them talk and laugh for a while and then Nan starts snoring. Pop's a bit deaf so we don't need to worry about him, besides, he never gets up for us lot. Kev's on the lounge-room couch, he'd be out like a light by now, so we're safe from his dobbing.

Sal gets me to hold the torch while she puts on some mascara and lippy. She offers them to me but I say no. I don't feel very well. She looks at me for a moment.

'It's alright little cuz, you don't have to come. Besides, I'd have to mind you. Look, if Nan comes in later just say that I've got a tummy ache and gone down to the dunny. She'll believe you - you're her little goody-goody.'

I know Sal doesn't mean to be nasty but I can feel a cry coming on. Sal and I don't get all emotional, that's for sissies. I manage to hold it in until she tiptoes out of the room. Then the tears come. Goody-goody. Is that what Sal thinks of me? I curl up like a roly-poly under the blankets and try to think of nice things.

—

Romeo the rooster wakes me with a morning crow and not long after Sal creeps through the bedroom door. Her hair's a rat's nest and there are black mascara streaks on her cheeks. She climbs in beside me – freezing cold and smelling of vomit and smoke. She's leaking tears. I snuggle up to her and I don't remind her that only sissies get emotional.

'Are you alright? Do you want me to get Nan?'

'Nah, don't get Nan. I'll be grounded forever if she sees me like this. Oh Lib, I've really mucked up this time.'

'What happened, are you hurt?'

'I think I went all the way with Mark, I can't remember much,' Sal whispered.

'I told him I wanted to wait ... but Lib, I was so drunk ... we had a whole flagon of Moselle. Oh God, I'm gonna be sick again.'

I grab the potty for her just in time. I don't know what to say to make her feel better.

'Trouble is always going to be got into when you're in love Lib,' she mumbles and then drops off to sleep. I get up and sneak her spew down to the loo.

—

I've just got home from my first day back at school in Hobart. God, I hate that place. No boys, just rules and regulations, typing and cooking.

Mum looks up from wiping Brettie's bum and frowns at me. 'I was on the phone to your grandmother earlier. She told me that you and Sal sneaked out one night in the holidays. I'm that angry at you Elizabeth. Anyway, you're not going west again, until you show that you can be trusted.'

'I didn't sneak out, who told her that? I bet it was that little suck-hole Kev.'

'Never mind who told her what, that's not the point.'

'I'm always getting blamed for things I don't do, it's not fair, and what about the boys? They're always nicking off.'

'Boys don't get pregnant like your cousin did. Anyway, she's lucky her father's letting her keep it.’

Mum hands me Brettie's rompers. 'Here, put these on the bub, I need to do another load of nappies'.

Janie Whitney

Janie Whitney, born and raised in Southern Lutruwita/Tasmania, is semi-retired and living between Hobart and her beloved Queenstown. She worked mainly in the horticulture industry but has also been employed as a support worker in the disability, homelessness and refugee sectors. As a child Janie, an introverted bookworm, often worried that the reminisces of her elderly relatives and friends might get lost in time, and much of her work has been informed by their stories. She is now excited and grateful to have regular access to the fascinating, history rich, environment of the West Coast, which provides her with endless inspiration for her writing journey.