Bleeding Hearts. Lindy Cameron

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СКАЧАТЬ she added as she followed Kit around the corner into Swan Street.

      "I'm sure you are, Mum. But you wrote your car off, and you haven't been alone since it happened. It probably hasn't even sunk in yet. And what if you've got concussion or something?"

      "But I didn't hit my head, Katherine. How could I have concussion?"

      "I don't know, Mum," Kit said desperately. "Humour me, okay?"

      "All right darling, if you insist. Oh isn't that nice."

      "What?" Kit asked unlocking the street door that opened into the foyer that led to her office and those of Aurora Press, Del and Brigit's little publishing empire.

      "Your name on the front door."

      "Yeah," Kit laughed. "Del had it done for my birthday. She figured O'Malley Investigations had been going long enough to prove I was really serious, and that I therefore needed more than a little shingle on my own door."

      "She is a very sensible woman, that Delbridge," Lillian observed leading the way up the stairs to Kit's apartment. "Although I'm not sure about Brigit at the moment. She seems to be seriously out of sorts. You two had better keep an eye on her. You wouldn't want her to go completely off her trolley and run off to join a cult, like Valerie."

      Kit stood next to her mother with her key half way to the door. She didn't want to ask, but not doing so now might make as many as seventeen future conversations completely unfathomable. She unlocked the door, ushered her mother inside and took a deep breath. "Who is Valerie?"

      "You know Valerie, from the golf club. Constance and I went to Yarrawonga with her and Marguerite last year."

      "Of course you did," Kit said, none the wiser. "What cult has she joined?"

      "Oh that new thing on the Peninsula," Lillian said, heading into the galley kitchen.

      "There's a cult on the Mornington Peninsula?" Kit queried.

      "Yes, the Cult of the Loony Bins or something," Lillian stated. "Valerie has gone quite silly with the whole thing. She's sitting in lotus positions, sporting the guru's head on a necklace, chanting in mantises. It's beyond me!" Lillian threw up her hands and then turned the kettle on.

      "I think it's a mantra, Mum," Kit offered, not wanting to explore the notion of Valerie, whoever she was, wearing a guru's head around her neck.

      "Mantra, mantis who cares? There's way too much weird stuff going on these days. I think the government is putting something experimental in our water."

      "What? To make us join cults?"

      "No. To see if we have the strength of mind and intestinal fortitude to reject their influence."

      "Are you sure you didn't hit your head, Mum?" Kit asked.

      "Don't be rude darling and please don't tell me you think the government is there to serve our best interests. I was sure I'd raised you to be more questioning than that," Lillian said, her eyes shifting focus as if she was casting her mind back to Kit's childhood and the serious political lessons which basically boiled down to: 'when you're old enough, you can vote for anyone you like but don't ever expect them to be better than the fools who are already running things, whoever they are'.

      "It's okay Mum, I know they're all self-serving bastards," Kit smiled, sitting sideways on a breakfast-bar stool so she could lean her back against the wall. "But that doesn't mean they're experimenting on us."

      "It doesn't mean they're not either. I've seen The X Files, so I know what conspiracies are out there," Lillian stated as she passed Kit's coffee across the bench to her.

      "You are aware of the fictional nature of that show, aren't you Mum?"

      Lillian gave Kit a withering look. "Just as you are aware of the rotational theory of life imitating art imitating life. There is always an element of truth in fiction."

      "Yeah, right," Kit nodded. "And that would be the truth that visiting aliens only ever abduct Americans; and only ever to carry out bizarre gynaecological or rectal experiments. Think about it, Mum. If you were an alien who'd travelled thousands of light years to get here, where would you touch down? In America, where the locals are likely to shoot you on sight; or Australia, where we'd probably invite you down to the pub for a beer?"

      "Well, here naturally - if I was an explorer alien," Lillian said. "But darling, you're quite wrong about the other aliens only taking Americans, although you can be forgiven for succumbing to that popular misconception."

      Explorer alien? Kit thought. "I can?" she asked, wondering whether it was too late to have her mother admitted to hospital for observation - just in case.

      "Yes of course," Lillian verified, her gaze suddenly shifting again, this time as if she'd noticed a couple of Men in Black standing behind Kit. "They abduct specimens from everywhere. Your thing is blinking."

      "They do? What thing?" Kit asked, refusing to give in to confusion.

      "Your answering thing. Of course they do. The rectal-probing aliens land all over the planet," Lillian stated, completely straight-faced. Which was a worry. "You think about it, Katherine. Why on earth," she continued, chuckling at her unintentional pun, "would the aliens only want Americans? That is part of the rotational theory in a nutshell. Art imitating life: the Yanks just love to be the centre of attention, even if that centre is in the middle of something grotesquely unpleasant."

      Kit peered at her mother, trying to work out if her pupils were dilated. "How do you know this?"

      "Mimi Burrage, from my theatre group," Lillian stated, "she's an abductee. She was taken on the road to Ballarat one night last winter."

      "That explains a lot," Kit remarked, recalling that Mimi Burrage always looked startled, as if she'd just stuck her finger in a power socket and had quite enjoyed the sensation.

      Kit slid off her stool, carried her coffee into her office space and sat down at her desk. She was tempted to ask why these particular rectal-probing aliens had bothered to bring Mimi back, but decided this was not a good time to be discussing someone else's delusion with her mother. Besides, knowing Lillian and her 'facts' it was far more likely that Mimi Burrage had been taken to Ballarat last winter by a retail promoter called Eileen.

      "I'm going to the loo," Lillian announced, as she headed up the hall.

      "I'll call The Age, perhaps they can put it in the Odd Spot," Kit said, in response to her mother's habit of informing people exactly where she was going when she left a room, to save them the trouble of asking or wondering.

      The answering machine counter registered six calls. Kit hit the play button.

      Del: "Um, don't panic. She's fine, but your Mum's had an accident. I'm taking her to Angie's."

      Kit wondered whether it would have been better or worse knowing before she got there that her mother was going to try and outsparkle the Spangles.

      Marek: "I need a favour. Can you give me a call?"

      Curious. Since when does Jon Marek actually ask a favour? From me?

      Lillian: "There's no need СКАЧАТЬ