I was the colour of a long, drawn-out cuppa tea with a splash of milk, but so was she. 

Her backyard was small. Sweet citrus scents of the oranges and mandarins, that glowed in the sunshine like baubles on a Christmas tree, lined the back fence. She told us not to touch them and stay outside. We played quietly—picking at the grass, trying to keep the grass stains off our new crisp dresses. Her round face and tight lips didn't move much as she chatted with mum at the kitchen table.  

I'm not sure how long we were there, but it was long enough to know we weren't welcome. Her stiff upper lip and beady eyes said it all.  Did you know you can read a person by their eyes? She didn't have kind eyes. I never saw Great-grandma Nell again. 

Nell didn't approve of her granddaughter's life choices or the colour of her great grandchildren. Even from a child's point of view it all seemed silly and without logic, as Nell's Indian mother had brown skin and her British father had white skin. My mother was white and my father was Aboriginal. As far as I could tell we were the same, the same cuppa tea except maybe hers didn't have sugar.

There was a man I remember too, with a little dog. He would visit our home from time to time, bring sweets and happily chat with Mum. He never stayed long. They were quick visits but I remember his kind eyes. Sidney was his name—my great-granddad who would visit us in secret. 

 

© Sabrina Dudgeon-Swift. From Ourselves: 100 Micro Memoirs published by Night Parrot Press. 

 

Sabrina is from the Bardi, Gija people in the Kimberley area in Western Australia. Her work has been published in anthologies, flash fiction collections and in children's series.

 

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