nagging mum, preferring to let Isla own her mistakes. But something major had gone down on that netball court and Tash needed to know what had turned her meek daughter into a girl who would resort to violence.
‘Mum, I hate when you give me the silent treatment.’ Isla poked her in the arm but Tash kept her eyes on the road.
‘I told you. We’ll discuss it at home.’
‘It wasn’t my fault, you know.’
Tash bit her tongue, desperate to respond, and Isla huffed, turning away to stare out her window. They drove the remaining minutes in silence, with Tash mentally rehearsing all the correct disciplinary chastisements while wanting to bundle Isla into her arms and make it all go away.
She parked under the carport, killed the engine and turned to face Isla. ‘Whatever happened back there isn’t right—pushing someone around—but I’m always on your side and I hope you trust me enough to tell me the truth.’
After several moments Isla finally looked at her, tear tracks smearing her cheeks. ‘Can we talk inside? I used the water from my bottle to clean Dennie’s knee and I’ve been dying of thirst ever since.’
Tash’s heart twanged. At least Isla had felt remorse if she cleaned her friend’s knee after their altercation. It gave her hope that this was a simple misunderstanding and the coach had overreacted.
‘Let’s go.’
When they entered the house, Isla ran to the sink, filled a glass with water and downed it in a few gulps. ‘I needed that,’ she said, flopping onto one of the wooden dining chairs and eyeing Tash with trepidation. ‘Now what?’
‘Now you tell me the truth.’ Tash sat next to Isla and made an effort not to cross her arms. ‘All of it.’
Something furtive shifted in Isla’s eyes before she blinked and Tash wondered if she’d imagined it. ‘Dennie was being a cow, then she got in my face so I pushed her away. Not very hard … but she must’ve tripped. I didn’t mean to hurt her, it was an accident, I swear.’
‘Pushing her isn’t an accident, Isla. You’ve never done anything like this before, so what was different this time?’
Anger furrowed Isla’s brow as her lips compressed in a thin line.
‘Isla, if you don’t tell me the entire story, I’ll be enforcing a punishment as severe as Coach’s.’ An empty threat, because a month off the team seemed excessive. Then again, what did she know? She’d never had to discipline Isla to this extent before and maybe her actions warranted a four-week ban.
Tears filled Isla’s eyes but Tash didn’t weaken, despite the urge to hug her daughter tight.
‘Tell me.’
After a long pause and a loud sniffle, Isla wiped a hand across her eyes. ‘Some of the other girls were talking about Swap Day coming up at school next month, then Dennie said no mums were coming, only dads … then she smirked at me and said why don’t I ask mine?’
Tash gritted her teeth. Whichever genius came up with the concept of parents swapping with their kids for one day of classes during their first year of high school needed to be slapped. She hadn’t been looking forward to it. In fact, she’d hoped she could weasel out of it by citing work. Now this.
‘What did you say?’
‘Dennie knows I don’t ever discuss my dad, but she wouldn’t let up this time. She kept going on and on, saying I must know where he is, accusing me of keeping secrets and being an attention seeker, that kind of thing, so when she got in my face I pushed her away …’ She trailed off and the tears were back, and this time Tash gave in to instinct and bundled Isla into her arms.
Her brave tween rarely cried so when Isla hugged back, sobbing into her shoulder, Tash knew exactly how upset she was. She held her daughter until the tears subsided, dreading the conversation to come.
Whenever Isla asked about her dad, Tash gave a carefully rehearsed answer designed to placate and discourage further questioning. But Isla was twelve going on twenty and Tash knew that fobbing her off wouldn’t work much longer.
She eased away, bracing for the inevitable question—‘Where’s my dad?’—the one she couldn’t answer even if she wanted to. In the early days, Tash could respond with a truthful ‘New York … LA … Tokyo … Singapore … London …’ because she’d kept track of Kody via the occasional online search. But she wasn’t about to do that now. Besides, how would she