23. Norah

After briefly introducing themselves to the "babies," all the women adjourned to the Port Agatha pub, which was deserted apart from the bartender and a guy at the bar watching the footy in his Richmond scarf. Despite its impressive external appearance, this was not one of those fancy, renovated pubs with fancy food to match. It was a sticky, smoky drunk-old-man pub, the kind with a dartboard, brawls and alcoholics, serving breaded meat of obscure origins.

"Why don't we introduce ourselves?" Jessica said. She sat at the head of the long table of women as if she were conducting a board meeting. "I'm Jessica, I lived at Wild Meadows from when I was four until I was fourteen. This is Norah, she lived there from ten to thirteen. And Alicia lived there from when she was twelve to thirteen."

"I thought we were introducing ourselves," Alicia said.

Jessica ignored her.

"I'm Rhiannon," said the woman with the dreadlocks and fingerless gloves. "I was at Wild Meadows for two weeks when I was an infant."

Norah blinked. "I remember you. You cried all the time. I've never heard anything like it."

"Norah!" Jessica admonished her.

Rhiannon just laughed. "That'd be right. In fact, the story goes that the whole reason I went into foster care at all was because I cried so much my mum went to the neighbors' place to have a beer and left me alone to cry it out. She came back an hour later and the police were there. A delivery person had showed up and heard me crying, and when no one came to the door he called the cops." She sipped her beer. "The police took me to Wild Meadows and Mum had to do a parenting course. She still maintains that I should have been forced to take a sleeping course."

"I'm with your mum," Norah muttered, reaching for the bowl of nuts on the table.

"So after two weeks you went home?" Alicia said.

Rhiannon nodded. "They were the only two weeks I ever spent in foster care. I grew up in the next town, so we often drove past Wild Meadows when I was a kid, and Mum would threaten me and my sisters, saying that's where we'd go if we didn't behave." She laughed fondly. "A detective rang me yesterday. It was a courtesy call to let me know what was happening before it hit the news, because obviously I can't remember anything about my time there. But I thought I'd come anyway, see what I could find out."

"I'm Zara," the next girl said. She was petite with pale skin, blue eyes and mousy brown hair wrapped around her head like a headband. "At least, that's the name my mum and dad gave me; they don't know what I was called in foster care. My parents were told nothing about my previous life other than that I'd been living at a foster home in Port Agatha. Then last night I saw the newspaper article and I came straightaway. I don't suppose you guys recognize me?" She looked at them hopefully. "I mean, you probably don't, but I'd love to know anything about my life before."

"There's something familiar about you," Alicia said.

Norah agreed. But she couldn't place her. And when the bartender approached, Norah stopped trying and decided to look at him instead. He had brown skin, a mop of back curls, and—Norah felt faint at this—a mustache.

"Are these your dogs?" he said to Norah as he put their drinks down on the wooden table. A gin and tonic for Alicia, a lemonade for Norah, a soda water for Jessica. The other three women were all drinking beer.

Automatically, Norah rose up to her full indignant, defensive self. She was preparing to trot out her service-dog spiel when he squatted down and began petting them all vigorously.

"They're gorgeous," he said. "My Australian shepherd is out back. Maybe I could take these guys out to have a play with him? It'd be good for him to have some company."

The bartender grinned at her, revealing a slight gap between his front teeth. Norah was so busy ogling him, she failed to register his question.

"So? Can I take them outside to play?" he repeated.

"Oh," Norah said. "Sure. Thanks. Okay. I love your mustache."

She felt… flustered. Norah couldn't remember the last time she'd felt flustered.

"What's wrong with you?" Alicia asked.

"Shut up," Norah replied.

"Shh," Jessica hissed, as the last girl began to speak.

"I'm Bianca," she said. "I got a list of all my foster-care placements recently—all sixteen of them—and Wild Meadows was one of them. I don't remember it, though. I also had a call from the cops yesterday."

Bianca. With the eye injury, courtesy of her stepfather.

Bianca didn't ask if they remembered her. Norah was glad. She gulped her lemonade.

"So," Zara said, when the introductions were complete, "any idea who the bones belong to?"

"I spoke to the cops this morning," Rhiannon said, "and they were still waiting for forensics to give them more info about the body. Apparently when the bones are old it can take a while."

"Do you think one of the foster kids did it?" Bianca asked.

"There wasn't anyone else," Norah said. "Just us—and the babies."

"Well, did you guys kill anyone?" Zara asked, looking from Jessica to Norah to Alicia.

Everyone laughed. Except Zara, who was looking at them expectantly, waiting for an answer.

"I'll get another round," Norah said.

She put her hand out for Jessica's credit card. It was getting late. Their dinner plates had been finished and collected.

Zara was like a TV-show detective looking desperately for answers in the plainly obvious. Rhiannon and Bianca were less intense, but still curious. Unfortunately, there was no information to share. Nothing to know.

The only thing Norah was curious about was the bartender.

"This round's on me," Alicia said, intercepting Jessica's card and placing her own card in Norah's hand. She leaned closer to Norah. "The bartender keeps looking at you."

"Shut up."

"He looks familiar," Alicia said. "I think we went to school with him? Avish or—"

"Ishir!" Norah cried, slapping the table so hard that Jessica's drink tipped over and spilled on her lap.

"Norah!" she cried. "For God's sake!"

But Norah was already beelining for the bar. "Ishir!"

Ishir, who'd been bent over looking for something in the fridge, stood up straight upon hearing his name. A tea towel was slung over his shoulder.

"I know you," Norah said triumphantly.

It took a minute, but recognition finally dawned in Ishir's eyes. "Oh yeah… I know you too." He grinned. "Nerida, right?"

"Norah," she corrected. "With an h."

But even as she said it, a memory was coming at her. "Wait… did you work at the grocery store?"

"That's me. My parents owned it. They still do. And this pub."

"You probably won't remember this," Norah started, and to her delight, he rested his elbows on the bar, listening eagerly.

Miss Fairchild had dispatched Norah to the shop to collect her face cream and a few other things. It was miraculous, really, how she always had enough money for such things when so much else—like fruit for their lunch boxes—wasn't in the budget.

It was no surprise she'd asked Norah to go; Norah was the fastest of the three girls. For a while Norah had made a game of seeing how fast she could be—timing herself as she ran all the way there and back. It had been fun, until Miss Fairchild got wind of it and started using her best times to shame Jessica and Alicia when they weren't as fast.

For this reason, Norah was taking her time and didn't bother ringing the bell to get the attention of the cashier. She was about to shoplift a Caramello Koala when he finally made an appearance.

"Sorry, I didn't see you there." He grinned, revealing a slight gap in his teeth. "Hey," he said. "You're Nerida, right?"

"Norah," she replied. "With an h."

Ishir gestured to the chocolate in her hand. "Caramello Koala—my personal favorite."

She put it back on the shelf and pushed Miss Fairchild's items forward. "I'm not allowed, unfortunately. The foster mother will lock me in the basement for buying chocolate." She laughed as if it were a joke. Telling the truth as if it were a joke was one of many ways she amused herself. "Anyhoo," she continued, "can you put this on the Wild Meadows account, please?"

Ishir wrote the total in the account book and put the face cream in a bag. As he handed over the bag, he took the chocolate off the shelf and dropped it in. "You know you want it."

Norah shook her head. "I said—"

"It's on me," he said in a magnanimous tone that was perhaps supposed to make him sound like a wealthy person. It came out a bit weird, and he seemed to realize this because he immediately dropped his gaze. "I won't put it on the account," he explained in a normal voice. "It's a gift."

"Why would you give me a gift?" Norah frowned. "What do you want?"

"Nothing." He looked offended.

"You must want something."

"No. Just to do a good deed." He looked like he was regretting it.

"Oh."

"It's no big deal. Really."

But it was a big deal. Norah thought about it for ages afterward, wondering if he'd come and ask her for something in return. He never did. It was the only time anyone other than her sisters had done something for her without wanting anything in return.

"I gave chocolate to all the pretty girls," Ishir said, when Norah told him the story.

"Oh."

"But you were the prettiest," he said, catching himself. "You were the most beautiful girl in our entire school. I would have given you the entire stash of Caramello Koalas if you'd wanted them."

Norah couldn't tell if he was serious. She decided to test him on it. "So, if I wanted a round of drinks for my friends?"

"Then I'd tell you to put that credit card away."

He grinned, and Norah got the same giddy feeling as when she arrived home to the dogs at the end of the day.

"So you're back here because of the bones?" he asked, turning to reach for a glass. The tea towel hung from his back pocket now. Norah hadn't known how sexy a tea towel could be.

"Yep."

"And these guys too?" He glanced over at the table.

She nodded. "What about you? Why are you still in Port Agatha?"

He grimaced. "Back here, not still here." He started pulling their beers. "It's an important distinction."

"If you say so."

"It is," he said. "My dad passed away six months ago so I came back to help out my mum. I'm recently divorced, so it was a good excuse to get away." He put two beers on the counter and started pulling two more. "The pub's on the market now, but we haven't had a lot of interest, if you can believe it." He nodded at the drunk at the bar. "I keep trying to convince Larry to make me an offer, but no luck so far."

"Kids?" Norah asked.

"Dog," he replied.

Norah made a low, involuntary noise.

She wasn't stupid. He was a divorced man in a small town. He'd likely worked his way through the eligible women and was just looking for some fresh meat. Norah wasn't offended. On the contrary, she was delighted.

He finished pulling the beers, then lifted the hatch on the bar. He picked up the tray of drinks, but didn't move for a moment. He seemed to be surveying her.

"I can't believe I gave you a Caramello Koala." He shook his head and sighed, as if really disappointed in himself. "A girl like you deserves a Toblerone at the very least."

Norah beamed. It was perhaps the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her.