Being Bee Read Free Page A

didn’t mean what it normally meant, which was ‘wonderful’ or even ‘marvellous’. It meant tall for myage and gangly. I knew by the way she said it. She said it that way when I bumped into her in the kitchen, too, when she was cooking. ‘Out of my way, you great girl!’ and a whack on my bum if I didn’t move fast enough.
    â€˜I think you should meet her before you decide you like her,’ I said crossly. ‘She wears very dark lipstick.’
    â€˜I’ll be meeting her today,’ Nanna said, sounding a little smug. ‘She’s picking you up from my place today.’
    â€˜But I can just walk home.’
    â€˜I know that, but Jazzi wanted to collect you and I didn’t see anything wrong with it.’
    â€˜I’m not a baby. I always walk home.’
    Sally and her mum walked past. I hoped they wouldn’t see us but they did and Sally’s mum stopped to talk to Nanna.
    â€˜I hear Nick’s got a girlfriend,’ was the first thing she said.
    â€˜He has,’ Nanna said, ‘and there are going to be a few teething problems.’ She looked at me as though I couldn’t understand what she meant. I made a face but they were too busy talking to notice.
    When we finally got home Stan was already at Nanna’s, pulling some weeds from around her front gate. He’s lived next door to Nanna for the longest time. He has a crush on her. His eyes crinkle up when he sees her, he always carries her groceries in for her, and he calls her Patreeeecia.
    Nanna gets all fluttery when he comes over, as if he doesn’t visit her every day, and uses the blue and white willow plates. Dad calls them her romantic interest plates. Sometimes Stan brings around some of his homemade liqueur for after-dinner and they sit close together on the couch and argue about television programs and politics.
    â€˜Here are my girls,’ Stan said. ‘Patreeecia, time for a quick card game? What will it be, poker or blackjack?’
    When Jazzi came around, I was winning at least two dollars in twenty cent and ten cent pieces, Stan was down to fifty cents and Nanna claimed she was breaking even, but she was just as likely to have slipped a couple of fifty cents into her pocket when she refreshed the teapot.
    â€˜You open the door, Bee, you know her. Then you introduce her to me and Stan. Properly. The way I’ve taught you.’
    â€˜Do I have to?’
    â€˜Bee!’
    Jazzi’s hair was pulled back into a frazzled pony tail, as though she was trying to look older than she really was. She still wore her plummy lipstick, though, and big earrings. She had a white shirt on, tucked into a denim skirt.
    â€˜Jazzi, this is my grandmother, I think she’d want you to call her Patricia. And this is Stan from nextdoor. Nanna, Stan, I’d like you to meet Jazzi, Dad’s girlfriend.’
    â€˜Jazzi, how lovely to meet you. We’re playing cards. We’re inveterate gamblers around here. Stan’s influence.’
    â€˜Poker?’ Jazzi said. ‘Oh, I like poker. Can you deal me in?’
    I couldn’t believe how quickly my two dollars disappeared.
    â€˜Jazzeee, you’ve got Lady Luck riding on your shoulder,’ Stan said, folding. ‘What a run of luck!’
    â€˜You’ve cleared me out. Time for a cup of tea?’
    Jazzi left her winnings in the centre of the table. ‘Do you have a jar or something?’ she asked. ‘My dad always kept a jar of change so we could play again.’
    â€˜We do, too, dear. Nice of you to suggest it.’
    Jazzi got up and walked around the lounge room. ‘Is this you, Bee, and your mother?’
    â€˜Yes. That’s when I was very little.’
    Jazzi peered at the photograph. ‘You look like your dad,’ she said, ‘except around the mouth and forehead, where you’re just like her. She was beautiful, wasn’t she?’
    I looked at the photograph