Page 43 of The Dysfunctional Family's Guide to Murder
“We really appreciate you keeping us in the loop,” Aunty Bec says before anyone has to try to answer that one, flashing Sasha a smile.
“I wasn’t sure if it was too early to drop in on city people,” Sasha says. “But I’ve got a busy day and I thought you’d like to know. I won’t hold you up.”
“Hey, mate, have you got a sec?” Rob asks, and Sasha gives him an alarmed look. Possibly he imagines this is a free-love arrangement (he really does seem concerned about the pants situation) and Rob’s about to proposition him for some kind of a sevensome, but all he says is: “Yeah?”
“That your truck out there?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay if I take a quick look? I’m in the market.”
Sasha doesn’t seem to find this request as weird as I do (in fairness it’s only about the tenth weirdest thing going on in this house), because he just shrugs and the two of them walk out together. Rob does not bother to put on pants.
“Well, that lets us off the hook,” Dad says when the door shuts. “Most of us, anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
“Only one of us was out of this house long enough to make the drive to Perth and back.” Dad takes a slurp of his coffee, almost certainly to be dramatic. “Where is Shippy, anyway?”
“Screw you, Andy,” Aunty Bec says, but that’s as far as things are allowed to escalate because Aunty Vinka’s car appearsoutside. We watch her stop to chat with Sasha and Rob in the driveway for a bit; then she and Rob come inside. Both of them look worried.
“Is there a phone charger around here?” Rob asks, looking at the phone in his hand.
“No reception,” I say automatically. “But, yeah, there’s one by the microwave. You can unplug my phone if you want.”
“Where’s Nick?” Dad asks Aunty Vinka. “Isn’t he supposed tobe—”
“He’s still in the hospital.”
“More tests?”
“Not exactly.”
“Vinx?” Dad says.
“Nick’s…look, it turns out he’s got one of those hospital superbugs,” Aunty Vinka says, getting the words out so quickly they all run together.
“What?” Dad, rather unfortunately, starts to laugh. “Are you kidding?”
“I am not.”
“So he’s not coming home?”
“They’re keeping him in for a bit longer.” Aunty Vinka sits down at the kitchen table, so forcefully her earrings and bracelets jangle. “I can’t believe this. I’m never getting out of this town.”
“Coffee?” Dad asks, maybe feeling bad about laughing. (It’d be a first.) “Or, sorry, an herbal tea?”
“Go on,” Aunty Vinka says, “make it a coffee.”
“It must be serious.”
“He’s going to come out of that hospital worse than when he went in.”
“Is there anything we can do to help?”
“You could make it a strong one. What’s going on with the hot neighbor, anyway? He said something about porn, but I didn’t really take it in.”
“The cops have found some of Gertie’s jewelry up in Perth,” Dad says, chucking the old coffee grounds into the compostbin.
