Crossing the Line Read Free Page A

offer?’
    Finally she gives the poor man five dollars and she’s the proud owner of a boxful of assorted junk – though she calls it treasure.
    Then we’re on to the next sale.
    It’s funny how people sell their belongings for a song. I don’t have much, but what I do have is for keeps. My things are part of who I am. What I treasure most is the stuff from my life with Arlene and Dutch. Photos mostly, but toys and books, too. I’ve kept a nightgown with tiny pink and purple elephants on it that Arlene used to wear. Sometimes when I’m lonely and missing them, I hunker down under my doona and hold the nightie close to my face. I imagine Arlene’s smell and the feel of her arms around me. Dopey, I know, but still, that’s what I do.
    ‘You having fun, Sophie?’ Amy grinds the car gears and curses again at a driver who’s too slow. I grin, and nod.
    All up we visit ten sales. After about five I’m over it. Not Amy. ‘I do this every Saturday morning,’ she tells me proudly. ‘Love it!’
    After the sales we park at the local mall and wander from shop to shop, mostly checking out new CDs. Amy’s into New Age music. I like it too, and she promises to record her favourite chill-out tracks for me. I think of her full-on driving and decide she needs to have some calming music on in the VW – playing loudly.
    ‘Must get some incense!’ She makes it sound like it’s life or death. I tag along as she charges into a store. Several minutes later, after much deliberation, I hear: ‘Should I get musk or vanilla?’
    I presume this is a question for me. But she answers it herself.
    ‘What the hell, I’ll get them both.’
    Then, before I realise what she’s up to, she’s stuck two boxes into her skirt waistband and is ambling down the aisle looking like innocence personified.
    ‘Move it,’ she says. ‘We’re outta here.’ She strolls ahead and I pretend not to be with her. I can’t believe she’s so brazen about shoplifting.
    ‘You could have been caught!’ I say when we’re away from the store.
    ‘No chance.’ She smiles at me like she should be congratulated. ‘They never miss it. Besides they overcharge like crazy. Incense is much cheaper at the markets.’
    I’m thinking: So why don’t you buy it there – instead of stealing? But I keep it inside my head. I don’t want to get offside with her when I’ve just moved in. It’s easier to let it go. Still, I don’t like it.
    ‘It’s just a bit of fun,’ Amy says. And then, as though reading my mind, she adds, ‘Don’t worry, I never nick stuff from friends.’
    We’re having a chai tea later at home when our conversation turns to Matt. Actually, I’ve steered it in his direction.
    ‘So how available is he?’
    Amy raises her eyebrows. ‘You interested?’
    ‘Not particularly.’
    ‘Me either. Anyway, I don’t know him much more than you.’
    ‘How come? You share a place with him.’
    ‘Yeah, but only for a few weeks. I’m almost as new as you, Sophie – or is Soph better? Which one do you like?’
    I’m about to say I’ll take anything, but then a dash of Amy’s mad personality rubs off on me and I tell her grandly, ‘You may call me Sophia . . . Lady Sophia.’
    ‘I’ll call you a goose!’ she replies, as we both laugh.
    ‘Sophie, Soph – both are fine,’ I say.
    ‘Anyway,’ she pauses to take a sip of her tea. ‘About Matt – all I can tell you is that there’s a photo of him and a girl in his room. She’s got her arms around him so maybe she’s his girlfriend.’
    I thank her for that info but can’t help wondering what she was doing in his room. I’ve had enough snooping in my life. Hate it. I do like Amy but I don’t know yet if I trust her. I tell myself, be careful.
    ‘Come here, My Lady.’ Amy beckons me over. ‘I’m going to braid your hair.’ I go along with it. Keeps her happy. And secretly, I like the closeness of it. She spends the next two hours, when she could be doing a dozen other things,