CONTENT NOTE
Caileen Cachia’s ‘Rochford Street’ alludes to challenging, possibly violent, domestic relationships.
‘The worst house on the worst street,’ said Maggie.
She was right.
The street was potholed and the house neglected. I could imagine the inside as we huffed up the hill from the station, me with Oren heavy on my hip. It would smell of mildew and paint would bubble from the walls.
‘It’s cheap,’ I said.
The house was all the same colour, roof and bricks—a ubiquitous suburban orange. That day, it contrasted neatly with the sky. On the colour wheel I kept in my portfolio, the two shades were directly opposite one another. It seemed like a good omen.
There was a drought that summer and the grass on the nature strip was brown thatch on grey dust. We climbed the front steps. If we got rid of the junk cluttering up the verandah and put in a baby gate, we could make it safe for Oren.
The house smelled as bad as I’d expected. The front rooms were dark, but the kitchen was ok and one of the rooms had hardly any damp on the walls. The small lawn out the back was still clinging to life. A bit of watering and fertiliser and it should green up by the time Oren was walking.
Maggie told the agent we’d take it and paid the deposit on the spot.
Two days later, we were on our knees washing the walls with vinegar, music playing tinnily from my phone. Oren was safely trapped in a playpen from the op shop. He’d learned to pull himself to his feet on the sides and he gurgled with laughter every time he plopped back onto his fat nappy.
Outside, a dog barked loudly. Maggie and I locked eyes, our thoughts fused. Oren’s eyes opened wide as I snatched him up. We froze, listening. Two more barks.
It wasn’t Rocky. It wasn’t Carl’s dog.
‘It’s not Carl,’ I said. I started to shake as the adrenaline drained away.
‘He wouldn’t fucking dare,’ growled Maggie, and she was right.
She took Oren from me and said, ‘Let’s go see the doggy.’
Outside, Oren laughed as the dog’s wagging tail kicked dust into the air.
‘I’ll take a picture,’ I said.
In the photo, the background is bright planes of orange and blue, but I see only my sister’s fierce face and I know we’ll be ok.