again and put it back in her bag. Must have been about a year ago she’d left the phone with Daniel’s number in it at the toy library, lost the SIM card, all her contacts. At the bulbous end of the cul-de-sac there was a turning circle like the bottom of a test tube, the place children would ride tricycles and sell lemonade to foot traffic made up of people their parents already knew. A path ran off the end of the cul-de-sac and the last light in the street cast a muzzy white triangle as far as the grassy wasteland beyond. From here she could see over to the floodlit top field and the school buildings and possibly the dark shapes of people walking along the road towards the school gates, before they were obscured by a lump in a hill.
The light petered out at the end of the path, where a wire fence blocked access to the undeveloped hills. A sign was planted in front of the fence and Dorothy stood on the edge of the light, on the point where it gave way to nature, and reached one hand out to touch the high tensile fence wire. An electric shock snapped up her arm and she yelped as the arm flung back, and shook it and staggered down the path a little bit, laughing soundlessly.
Time had passed since everyone else had arrived at the reunion. Blisters stung on her toes, pulpy and jammed into the ends of her shoes, from running down to the school in high heels. The registration people outside the hall had never heard of her. Through the double doors came music that they had danced to a hundred years earlier, at the graduation ball. Dorothy dropped Maya’s name and Mandy’s but the younger woman said, ‘We’ve had to step up security since your day.’
‘Yes,’ she said, leaning forward on the desk, her face close to the woman’s, ‘I did have a day. A school day. I went here. My whole family went here. Why would I make that up? Do I look like a terrorist?’
The woman’s gaze drifted over to something behind her and a voice said, ‘Yes. I think so.’
It was Daniel. He was wearing a black suit, smiling, and his teeth were peggy and brown. Those dark eyes, oily like coffee beans, looked at her while he spoke to the woman. ‘Someone put my name down,’ he said. ‘Daniel Hill?’
‘Danny Hill. You scumbag.’ The chemistry teacher clapped a hand on his shoulder.
‘Hello, Mr Crosby.’ He was still looking at Dorothy. His face made her want to pull her jacket up to hide her own. ‘Hi, Dot.’
‘They don’t recognise me,’ she said. ‘I can’t believe it.’
The suit was second-hand and smelled it, and the worn lapel felt rough against her face when they hugged. Some crying fell out of her. He held her shoulders. ‘We don’t have to go in if you don’t want,’ he said.
‘No no we should. It’s just – like the water closed over our heads, you know. We’re just gone. Doesn’t matter.’
The three of them walked through the doors into the school hall. Mr Crosby headed for the bar. There was a student band playing music that wasn’t quite loud enough. Light splintered around the room from a disco ball. Faces, bodies loomed and receded. Someone said, ‘Weren’t there more of you, didn’t you have a sister?’ and Daniel hung back and when she began to explain about the accident a group of guys swallowed him. The woman’s mouth flew open and she whispered, ‘Oh no,’ and Dorothy hugged her. ‘It’s OK.’
In the middle of the dance floor Monique was giving Ian a kind of lap dance in his wheelchair. ‘Wow,’ Dot said, and the woman pulled out of the hug and looked at her with a furrowed brow, performing confusion.
‘Check it out.’ Dorothy pointed to Monique. ‘I can’t work out if that’s really amazing or a bit cruel.’
‘Probably only so much Viagra can do,’ the woman said. ‘I’m so sorry about your sister.’
‘Thanks. Me too.’ She squeezed the woman’s arm and said, ‘I’m just going to the bar. Do you want anything?’
The barman filled the softish plastic tumbler to the brim with white wine. It dimpled under the pressure of Dot’s thumb and fingers and she tried to hold it lightly with both hands, sipping wine and looking out over the edge. Danny was in a corner by the stage, flanked by three or four men whose