Nature of Ash, The Read Online Free

Jow Jow’s here!’
    I can’t believe I’ve slept. I stumble out into the lounge, aware that Jiao is watching me closely. She’s wearing truly ancient jeans, so patched there’s patches on the patches, offset by a checked lime shirt that pings against her hair.
    ‘Thanks for coming.’ I sound as lame as hell. I’m not prepared . If Jiao is here, that means it must be heading towards nine.
    She shrugs. Her face is closed.
    ‘Jiao’s going to stay with you till I get back from town,’ I say to Mikey, whose arm is draped around her shoulders.
    He smiles up at her like she’s his girlfriend. ‘You wanna play my game?’
    Her whole face softens when she looks at him. ‘In amo,’ she says, gently unbridling herself to push him back towards his game. ‘I need to speak with Ashley first.’
    I have to give her credit: she seems to understand what Mikey says, and doesn’t revert to patronising baby-talk the way most people do. They can’t decipher the thick-tongued way he speaks, and don’t realise what an amazing feat it is that he can talk at all.
    ‘Ash,’ I say to Jiao. ‘Just call me Ash.’
    She nods, her eyes still on Mikey until it’s clear he’s back in digi-land, then follows me into the kitchen. She scoops a pen from the bench top and starts to click it on and off.
    ‘I saw the news before I caught the bus this morning,’ she says.
    ‘Yeah.’
    ‘I can’t believe it’s true.’ Her gaze flicks across my face for just a second. I feel it as plainly as if she’d brushed me with her hand.
    ‘Yeah,’ I say again. ‘They want me to identify him this morning — that’s where I have to go.’
    ‘All on your own?’
    It’s my turn to shrug. I have to tough it out. Be A Man. She looks about to say something else, but we’re interrupted by a knock.
    ‘Look after him, eh? I gotta go. I haven’t told him yet.’
    I open the door wide enough to confirm it’s Sergeant Jeannie Smith, yell goodbye to Mikey and slip out through the gap.
    ‘Hey there, Ashley. I hope you managed to get some sleep.’ She says it like she knows that’s wishful thinking. She doesn’t look too rested either. In fact, she looks like shit. ‘Listen,’ she says. ‘Have you got anyoneyou’d like to come with you for support? We could call in on the way.’
    I feel like kissing her, I’m so relieved. ‘There’s Dad’s best friend, George Silverman, he’s—’
    ‘George Silverman who works for Amnesty?’
    ‘Yeah. You know him?’
    She stops mid-step. Rests her hand ever so lightly on my arm. ‘I’m afraid he’s gone.’
    ‘Damn. When’s he due back?’
    ‘I’m sorry, Ashley. He was in the building with your dad. I’ve just had word his family positively identified his remains earlier this morning.’
    That can’t be right. Not George as well. He’s the closest thing we’ve got to an uncle — hell, to anyone — apart from Grandma. Jeezus, poor Vidya, his wife. Poor Lizzie, Joe and Matt. He was an awesome dad.
    ‘You’re sure?’
    ‘I’m sorry, mate, but yes. The family aren’t in any doubt.’
    It’s hard to navigate the last flight of stairs: my knees have turned to mush and my peripheral vision’s gone to hell. It’s like being swept down a dark tunnel, the stairwell’s pissy stench the only thing that registers. Dad and George? And god knows who else. I probably know them all in some way, most of them since I was small. Dad’s whole universe of friends and colleagues, all wiped out in one big bang.
    Jeannie drives along the waterfront, dodging the road blocks set up around the CBD. There’s cop cars everywhere, and at the cordon closest to Dad’s building TV crews are interviewing groups of sightseers. The day is cold and overcast, appropriate considering what’sgoing on, but even though I’m wearing two warm layers I’m shaking just as bad as Mr Ferris, the nice old dude with Parkinson’s who lives next door.
    There are camera crews outside the Emergency Department at the hospital