The Midnight Dress by Karen Foxlee

daughters and brides-to-be. Fat women and rickety-thin old ladies, plump young girls she would encase in confirmation dresses and slender belles she would dress in elegant ball gowns – but never in her life has she come across a girl that looked so terrified of a tape measure.
    ‘What’s wrong?’ says Edie.
    ‘Nothing,’ says Rose.
    The old woman holds up the mildew-flecked tape measure. She lays it against Rose’s shoulder tip and bends down to the floor. Her knees click. She wraps the tape measure around Rose’s waist, her hips. She sees the girl’s eyes are squeezed closed.
    ‘I suppose they got married and lived happily ever after then,’ says Rose.
    She doesn’t like to encourage the old woman, but with her up close like that she has to say something.
    ‘Well,’ says Edie, who takes the pencil from behind her ear to write down a figure on the back of a brown paper bag. ‘In a fashion, I suppose.’
    ‘When Florence Mercier saw Jonathan Baker her hand went to her throat. He held her note in his hand and the sight of it made her nearly faint. They walked along the river first, all the way to Customs House, not speaking, until Jonathan Baker couldn’t contain himself any longer.
    ‘There’s a leaf shaped like a love heart and just as red,’ he said. ‘It’s not the only one. There are leaves like satin and others covered in thorns, there are flowers, purple, yellow flowers, in shapes you could never dream of, some trees drop pods like purses to the forest floor, inside there are seeds like gold, there are fruits so blue they hurt your eyes to look at them.’
    He took one from his pocket then, a little blue quandong, dried, held it out to her, placed it on her hand.
    Florence Mercier looked into his eyes.
    They caught the ferry, crossed the brown river, came back again.
    ‘There are waterfalls, the big ones that everyone knows about, but others too, smaller ones, secret ones. I could take you there.’
    Her cheeks coloured then paled.
    ‘In the forest there are trees as wide as trams, thousands of years old, and when you look up you can’t see the top and all night you can hear the creeks telling stories.’
    ‘Is your house right there in the trees?’ Florence asked, her first words, she was trembling.
    ‘No,’ he said. ‘The house is in a paddock, down below the mountain.’
    ‘Oh,’ said Florence, and he thought she looked a little disappointed.
    ‘But I’ll build you a house,’ he said, ‘I promise. I could build you a house there, high among the trees.’
    They were by the fountain again, watching their silvery reflections in the water. He reached out and touched the velvety mole on her cheek. It was a bold act, right there in the sunlight, but she didn’t pull away.
    ‘Yes,’ was what she said.
    Edie writes down the measurements, puts them on the table and places the lampshade on top. Rose isn’t sure where the lampshade fits in, it makes her nervous. The first of the breezes comes again, she feels a tendril of it against her neck and she closes her eyes.
    ‘I better go home,’ she says.
    ‘Yes, it’s late and you have school,’ says Edie. ‘Are you scared of the walk?’
    ‘No,’ says Rose. It’s the truth.
    ‘Good,’ says Edie. ‘There’s no point to being frightened of the night.’
    They stand on the back steps. Rose can’t see the mountain but she can sense it there, like she could put her hands up and touch it, it’s that close.
    ‘Did he really build a house up there or was that a trick?’
    ‘He did. It’s still there. Or it was the last time I went. Now that was many years ago.’
    ‘Do you know how to get there?’
    ‘Of course.’
    Rose imagines it. Edie smiles in the dark.
    ‘I could tell you how. It’s a difficult climb but you might make it.’
    Rose shrugs.
    ‘I’m okay,’ she says.

Seed Stitch

‘Do you know anything about some place up on the mountain?’ Detective Glass asks Edie Baker in her kitchen. ‘It’s some house of sorts or