mixed with vodka, she relayed a wonderful line in anecdotes about her son, whom she referred to as either the Dolt or Nugget Head. He’d apparently squandered a significant family fortune by setting up and bankrupting a discount airline, followed by a chain of DIY superstores. Emily said she was down to her last ‘few million bucks’. James particularly enjoyed the story of how Nugget Head had managed to nail himself to a sheet of plasterboard while demonstrating power tools inside one of his stores. Humiliated, he then chose to lash out at a laughing man who unfortunately turned out to be the Australian flyweight boxing champion.
On the Friday, thirteen days after his first visit to the commune, James stepped into Emily’s room and found her listening to the words of Joel Regan through the speakers of a brand new mini hi-fi.
‘Elliot gave it to me when he brought in my new towels and bathmats,’ Emily explained, anticipating James’ question. ‘I hope I’m not offending you James, I know you’re in with that lot, but it all sounds like a load of tosh to me.’
*
It was six when James got in from the care home. He went straight in the shower and came down to find Lauren setting the table in the dining-room. Dinner was almost ready and James was visibly disappointed when Abigail came through with trays of over baked supermarket cannelloni.
‘Man,’ James grinned, ‘the standard of cooking sure isn’t what it was around here.’
Abigail smiled. ‘I’ve not got time these days. I spent most of the morning with Elliot and three hours this afternoon stuffing promotional coupons into envelopes.’
‘What for?’ James asked, as Dana came in and sat next to him.
Abigail shrugged. ‘It’s one of Joel Regan’s businesses, producing customised marketing materials for big companies. Elliot said they were short-handed and begged me to go over there and help out.’
Lauren shuddered. ‘I’ve really gotten to hate Elliot. He’s such a grease ball.’
Dana nodded, as James helped Abigail dish up the food. ‘Have you ever noticed that he seems to be in three places at once?’
‘Mary told me that Elliot only sleeps four hours a night,’ Abigail explained. ‘Apparently he was one of the top men at the Ark until he had a row with The Spider. Now he’s trying to get back on her good side by making the Brisbane commune the most profitable in the world.’
James looked confused. ‘The Spider?’
Dana and Lauren spoke contemptuously and in unison, ‘Regan’s eldest daughter.’
‘Oh,’ James said.
‘Don’t you know anything?’ Lauren sneered. ‘She’s like the wicked witch of the west. Joel Regan is eighty-two years old. Everyone says it’s The Spider who calls the shots nowadays.’
As James pushed his fork down into his chicken cannelloni, Abigail noisily cleared her throat.
‘James, how many times have I asked you wear something over your chest at the dinner table?’
James tutted. ‘I’m perfectly clean. I just showered and squirted myself with deodorant.’
‘I don’t care,’ Abigail said sharply. ‘I’m not sitting at the dinner table with you in your underwear. Go and put some clothes on.’
James wasn’t in the mood for Abigail’s obsession with table manners. ‘Fine,’ he said, holding up his hands. ‘I don’t know what your problem is.’
Abigail snapped back, ‘If you don’t like it, James, make your own dinner.’
‘All right, Mum. Keep your tampon in, I’ll go and get a T-shirt.’
James stormed up to his room to get dressed. Three weeks in, the combination of school, homework, the care home and the ever increasing amount of time spent at the commune was wearing him out.
He got back down and slumped into a dining chair, scowling at Abigail.
Lauren tutted, unable to resist a dig at her brother. ‘You’re so immature, James.’
‘Lauren, I really don’t give a shit what you think,’ James answered back.
‘Language,’ Abigail gasped.
‘God,’ Dana moaned. ‘Will you shut up? I can’t sit through another meal listening to James and Lauren pecking at each other.’
Abigail started to snigger as James took his first mouthful of pasta.
‘What?’ Lauren asked.
Abigail snorted. ‘It’s funny, the way we’ve started bickering like a real family.’
The three youngsters smiled.
‘Sorry everyone,’ James said. ‘I didn’t mean to start biting people’s heads off. I’m just stressed out.’
‘Apology accepted,’ Abigail nodded. ‘Unfortunately, I think things will be getting worse before they get better: Elliot paid me a visit here this morning. He told me he thought we were making a valuable contribution to the Survivors and he invited us to move into the commune on a trial basis.’
James and Lauren grinned at each