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friend could be jealous of her success, could she? They were tiddas, and tiddas were happy for each other’s achievements. They may have lost touch for some years when studying, moving and having families, but once they re-connected in Brisbane in their twenties, they had been as tight as they were in their teens. And they knew each other’s flaws – and fabulousness – inside out. Keeping that in mind, Xanthe knew that whatever the issue was, it was Ellen’s problem, not hers.
    And while her tiddas joked about Spencer being ‘the coloniser’ she never took it seriously. She could laugh about it most of the time. Besides, Spencer liked Xanthe’s tiddas, and they liked him because he adored Xanthe. But at the end of the day it didn’t matter what they thought; all that mattered in her world was that she loved him; he was gentle and kind, they had the same world views, and they wanted to share views across Brisbane from the wrap-around veranda of a house on a hill.
    â€˜Why wouldn’t I want to live in a Queenslander? I want to be able to look across town at the gorgeous jacarandas and the silky oaks and the azaleas in bloom.’ Xanthe looked out the front window towards the house across the street. ‘Right now, I have to go to Eurovida and sit at the window at the back of the restaurant to get a good view.’
    â€˜Oh, I love that back window, I haven’t been there for ages. We should do breakfast one day,’ Veronica finally spoke, although sounding flat. The girls all nodded. ‘Easter perhaps?’ She reached for her iPhone to log the date in her calendar. It was an outing to look forward to, and time away from her now mostly empty family home.
    Izzy, Nadine and Ellen all looked at Veronica, each registering her unusually sullen mood, but Xanthe continued with where she’d left off. It wasn’t unusual for the hostess of the monthly book club to have the most to say when they met in their own home. Izzy liked that it took the pressure off to be, as she called it, ‘on duty’. Her job meant she was constantly either talking or listening or smiling for the camera. At least with her tiddas she could just chill. Or so she thought, until Xanthe started talking pregnancy.
    â€˜When we get pregnant, we’ll need a bigger place than this anyway, of course. And I don’t want to be moving while I’ve got a bellyful, or worse, already have a baby. I just want to focus on being a mum.’ Xanthe was completely unaware that she’d fallen into talking about babies without even intending to do so. Every topic somehow became a natural progression to discussing them.
    â€˜Won’t you miss Armstrong Terrace?’ Nadine asked. ‘You love this place. You’ve spent years doing it up. Richard is so proud of how he helped Spencer with the back garden.’
    â€˜I’ll miss it, of course, and we love the garden too. Hopefully Richard can help with the new place as well.’ Xanthe passed a bowl of pistachios to Nadine. ‘But you know we originally moved here not just because I loved the layout butbecause it was where the Blackfellas used to camp in the old days when it was Armstrong’s Paddock.
    â€˜Not living on my own country, the history mattered to me. I mean, it still does. And if I was going to be in the apparently “gentrified” part of town,’ Xanthe grinned at Ellen, ‘then I wanted to at least have some connection to the Turrbul mob.’
    Izzy nodded. Being close to the local community and the stories of a place mattered to her too. It was the reason she loved West End so much – for its history, the ongoing political presence of the mob in Musgrave Park, the local organisations and simply seeing Blackfellas on Boundary Street any time of day or night.
    â€˜Oh God, these are delicious,’ Ellen swooned, biting into a rice ball.
    â€˜They’re from a new place not far from here.