Arcadia by James Treadwell

There’s nothing exciting about some vegetables in a bag. She goes quiet while they set off along the Burra Road, which is now so overgrown on the sides there are places you could hardly ride a bicycle along it. A skin of sand and mud has grown over the hard surface. Rory goes ahead, letting the twigs and brambles spring back behind him so Pink has to duck them (“ Ow! Watch it!”). He’s trying to think, but all he can think of is that before he does anything else he’s got to get rid of her because she’s so incredibly annoying he’ll never be able to think properly about what to do until she’s gone. The road bends around the Pond and comes to a muddy junction by a small house with nettles growing through smashed windows. A stony track leads up towards the ruins of Burra Farm. To one side are the trees. It’s more or less the middle of the island. The sea’s not far away—it’s never far away—but standing here you’d never guess. They climb over a bent gate onto earth caked with dry pine needles.
    â€œOK,” Rory tries. “You go that way. I’ll go round this way.”
    â€œI want to go together.”
    â€œWell I don’t.”
    â€œAuntie Vee told me to go with you.”
    â€œYou did go with me, didn’t you. Now we split up. It’s faster, we’ll collect more.”
    â€œI don’t want to.”
    It’s no good. She refuses. She won’t admit it but she doesn’t like being by herself in the mess and shadow of the undergrowth, with things rustling around. She’s a baby. She follows him, chattering. He can feel panic and despair beginning to pinch him. The morning’s passing. He’s running out of time. He thinks about knocking Pink out or tying her up or just running away from her until he gets clear, but he can feel the senseless desperation in all those ideas, they’re not proper Plans. He could make a proper Plan if only he could think. But all the time she’s chatting, chatting, no matter that he doesn’t say a word in reply except telling her to shut up. She won’t shut up.
    â€œWhen we’re older we’ll have to get married.”
    â€œShut up.”
    â€œWe will. Laurel’s too old.” They’re combing through the litter around the trees, looking for puffballs and chanterelles. “We’re the only boy and girl. We could be king and queen.”
    â€œI’m never going to marry you.”
    â€œWe’ll have babies.”
    This is too much. “Shut up!”
    â€œYes we will! Or there won’t be anyone, all the old people will die.”
    â€œYou don’t know anything about it.”
    â€œYes I do. You need a boy and a girl to have babies.”
    â€œYou’re a baby yourself.”
    â€œIt’s about kissing.”
    He tells himself not to say anything. If he doesn’t say anything at all she might give up eventually.
    â€œI’ll get the nicest dress from the Stash and we’ll get married. It’s like a big party. Everyone can eat whatever they want for a day. Then after the party you go upstairs and kiss and have babies. I know, Ol told me. You’re just embarrassed ’cos you don’t know anything about it.”
    He kicks a handful of pine straw out of the way.
    â€œYou could kiss me now.”
    Despite his resolution he can’t bear it. “Shut! Up!”
    â€œNo one’s looking.”
    He’s going to have to knock her out. He’ll say she tripped and hit her head. Maybe he’ll kill her. He’s angry enough to kill her.
    â€œI saw Laurel do it with Ol. I know how you do it. Do you want me to show you? Don’t tell Laurel I saw her. You won’t tell, all right? Rory?”
    â€œI will if you don’t stop talking right now.”
    â€œIf you do I’ll say you’re lying. Anyway I didn’t really. I just said I did but I never. So don’t tell her I