Joy complains a lot, Lisa wants to find the label for this distance between her name and her predominant character trait.
‘Much better, relieved. A little guilty, but I’ll get over that’ she hears the determination in her voice. Lisa realises the heaviness in her heart as gone, and so has the nausea.
Finally Lisa breaks the silence “I remember a time, years ago, I might even still have been in high school, when I decided to be the helpful one. The one that is practical, organised, fixes things. I thought people would love me for it.”
‘my dad’s kissing, slobbering, over some other woman and my mum is crying like a messy drunk!’ she accusing them now and she can feel the shouting, screaming, rage coming back just like she felt in the dream.
Fuck, thinks Cath, getting Trina out into the fresh air was supposed to help her, brighten her spirits, but she’s managed to bring a crisp winter’s morning surrounded by puppies at the park with a warm coffee in hand straight back to bloody Cameron.
“That’s why we call him Cleopatra” Chugga said to Emma, nodding in her father, Macka’s direction.
It’s not just Kathy and Heathcliff kind of creepy, this is Moors Murders creepy.