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contractor’s.
    ‘You look like your father when he was a boy,’ she said. Her voice was croaky and deep. ‘Not exactly like your father. Like your father if he’d been born a girl, if you know what I mean.’
    I laughed. ‘I think I know what you mean. People tell me that all the time.’
    ‘Count your blessings, Avril,’ Marilyn said, and coughed. ‘There are uglier mugs in your family tree.’
    Nan slapped her wrist, but she had a smile on her face.
    ‘How did you know Dad?’
    ‘Oh, your grandmother and I have been friends for years. I was there when your father was born.’
    ‘Really?’
    How come, in my sixteen years on the planet, living in the same house, I’d never met such a significant person in my grandmother’s life? How come I’d never even heard a story about Marilyn? Had she shifted from the area? As I was puzzling all this, I was inadvertently searching Marilyn’s face for a clue. There was a familiarity about her cheekbones, the line of her nose. Her eyes!
    I swear it was a reflex, but I gasped and went to cover my mouth when I realised where I’d seen those eyes before. I had another paradigm shift. She had Nathaniel’s eyes. Or Nathaniel had her eyes. Whatever. Marilyn was a Carrington.
    They saw my hand. They heard me gasp. They chuckled.
    ‘Yes, darling,’ Marilyn cawed. ‘I’m one of them. ’
    ‘Oh hush, Marilyn,’ Nan said.
    ‘Let me ask you this, Avril: do I look like the devil?’
    I shook my head.
    ‘No,’ Nan said. ‘You look like a wrinkly old prune ready for the grave.’
    ‘Cheeky sod,’ Marilyn grumbled. She pinched Nan’s arm.
    Then they were giggling like a pair of schoolgirls and slapping at each other.
    I sat cross-legged on the grass in front of them, my head still wobbly from changing gear so fast. Marilyn wasn’t the devil, in fact she reminded me of Nan – a little bit cheeky, a little bit nutty and a whole lot feral.
    ‘How come you two don’t hate each other?’ The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.
    ‘Oh, but we do!’ Nan said. ‘I hate you, Marilyn Carrington!’
    ‘Shut up, you spent penny!’
    Nan mopped at tears. Tears brought on by laughter. She took Marilyn’s hand and kissed it.
    Marilyn dragged Nan over and kissed her cheek.
    ‘Oh no,’ I cried in mock horror. ‘Nan is in league with the devil. Wait till I tell Hoppy!’
    ‘No!’ they screamed together.
    Marilyn had her hand up in a stop sign. ‘This is our little secret. You can’t tell the blokes.’
    ‘Serious, Av,’ Nan said. ‘Promise me you won’t tell Hoppy.’
    ‘Okay, okay. I promise. But only if you tell me why.’
    Marilyn waved dismissively. ‘You know what they’re like.’
    ‘Yeah, but why? Why are they like that? What started it all?’
    Nan sighed.
    ‘It’s a very long, boring, complicated and painful story,’ Marilyn said. She leaned forward in her chair. ‘You’ll have to get your nanna drunk,’ she whispered. She rocked herself out of her chair and onto her feet, creaking and groaning. She collected a walking stick and her joints popped like the shed roof in the sun. ‘I’d best be off.’
    Nan frowned and reached for Marilyn’s fingers. ‘No, don’t go. Not yet. Please.’
    ‘Get a hold of yourself, you old sook. Bleating like you’ve lost a lamb.’
    Nan got to her feet shakily and they hugged. It was a long and tight hug that looked strange on Nan. I mean Nan’s always up for a hug, but this one went on for ever. They kissed each other’s cheeks and Marilyn turned and reached for my hand. ‘Lovely to meet you, Avril.’
    I stood and hugged the devil, only she didn’t feel scaly at all: she was warm and her skin was loose on her bones and she smelled like home. She laughed and hugged me back, then left, waving.
    I wanted to say something to Nan. I wanted to tell her that I didn’t understand why it had to be the way it was but I was okay with it. She smiled and flopped back into her camping chair. I sat in the one