‘Where are her friends to sleep when they come to stay?’ she asked.
When she walked into the empty spare bedroom and gazed about her, I realised that in my reluctance to clutter the place, I had sacrificed convenience and homeliness.
‘You must make this into a study, Colin,’ she said, ‘where Alison can read and work, and you can write.’
Alison returned from the market then, with bags of fruit and vegetables, which she put on the kitchen bench. She was startled for a moment, and then she held out her hand to Nadia.
‘Professor Godlewski, it’s good to see you again.’
Nadia scooped her up in a hug. ‘I’m Nadia and I’m longing to talk with you. But first we must take your Grandpa shopping. Colin, dear heart, make me a coffee and then we will devise a plan of attack.’
That I could do. Leo and Trent had given us their coffee machine when they upgraded to a newer model.
As I made the coffee, Nadia and Alison put the food away. Alison was shy, but she didn’t appear to be overwhelmed by Nadia, as I feared she might have been. They chatted about the apartment, Nadia exclaiming over its space and convenience.
‘We’ll begin with the Sacred Heart Mission Op Shop,’ she declared.
Op Shop? I had never been in an Op Shop in my life.
‘Aren’t they… aren’t they … you know, for poor people?’ I asked, handing Nadia her coffee.
Alison giggled.
‘Oh, Colin.’ Nadia laughed. ‘You are behind the times. Everyone shops at Op Shops. You can get the most marvellous second-hand furniture.’
‘But … is it … clean?’ This was a new world for me.
More laughter. Too late, I realised what a stuffy old thing I sounded like.
That was the beginning of a day trawling the second-hand shops around St Kilda and Fitzroy. By evening we had a rather lovely lounge suite in an ivory-coloured brocade, which we positioned in front of the window; a glass-topped dining table with six straight-backed chairs, their seats covered in a similar coloured fabric; a bright circular floor rug with splotches of blue, red, green and gold to offset the grey of the carpet; another single bed and a big, art deco style dresser for Alison’s room; a double bed and new mattress for my room; a large glass and wood computer desk and ergonomic chair for the spare bedroom, and a further bookcase to take the overflow of Alison’s study materials. One of the Golden Beach armchairs was relegated to the spare room, and the other to my bedroom.
‘You can read the paper here in the sun,’ Nadia declared.
All of the furniture was purchased for astonishingly low prices from clean, orderly shops much of whose wares, the assistants told me, were donated from deceased estates.
‘Good that you’re giving it a new home,’ one of these assistants commented, as we arranged delivery of the lounge suite.
That evening, we sat over dinner at our new dining suite and watched the sun set in Melbourne’s west. Later, Nadia and Alison pored together over Stasiewicz’s book of poems. Nadia’s dark head was close to Alison’s as she tentatively translated.
‘Polish is my first language,’ I heard her say. ‘It was the language my parents taught me. But because I use English every day, it’s quite hard for me to translate these poems. In translation, the intention of the poet, what he really wanted to say, may be lost.’
‘But you have to try, don’t you?’ Alison asked.
‘Yes, and I know enough about your grandfather, about his history, the things he cared about, his beliefs and values, to do it as well as possible.’
I watched her, the care with which she handled the dilapidated little book.
Suddenly I had a clear, vivid but utterly terrifying revelation.
I love this woman.
Chapter 59
Alison Brennan
Saturday, 15 October
Last Tuesday we were at the lockers as usual, getting organised for the day, when Selma Ferguson came up to Rosa with a beaming smile.
‘Hey, Rosa,’ she said, as if they were best friends.
‘Hey, Selma,’ Rosa said, continuing to stack books in her bag.
‘Do you want to hang out with us at after school? We’re going into the city.’
‘No thanks, Alison and I have stuff to do.’ Rosa gave me a sideways glance, her eyebrows raised, questioning.
What does she want?
Selma stared at me. She clearly hadn’t factored me in.
‘Okay. Another time then.’ She turned to go away, and then turned back.
‘I met your brother on Saturday.’
‘Gio? He’s a little young for you isn’t he, Selma?’
‘No, Dario.’
Rosa pretended not to be interested. ‘Yeah? Where did you meet him?’
‘At that music store he works at in Elizabeth Street. He asked us what school we went to and said that his sister was there too. He told us your name.’
‘Oh, that’s nice.’ Rosa was going to make this hard for Selma.
‘He helped me with a song I was looking for, and I wanted to call and thank him. Would you give me his number?’
Rosa stopped packing her bag, and turned towards Selma. ‘Look, if you want Dario’s phone number you’ll have to ask him yourself. I’m not his personal assistant. And besides, I’ve got a fruit and vegetable stall to attend to.’
An icy, prolonged stare, and then Selma turned and flounced off.
We giggled, high-fived each other, and went into homeroom.
Just as roll call was beginning, Rosa whispered to me, ‘Hey, Allie, you know Sam, that boy that sits at the back of the room with his mate Matt?’
‘Yes.’
‘Don’t look at him, don’t turn around,’ she hissed.
‘Yes, Sam. What about him?’
‘He wants me to go out with him on Saturday.’
‘Wow. Of course you said yes.’ Sam was nice. He was smarter than most of the other boys, and he didn’t treat girls as if they were just there for decoration. If we had a mixed gender group assignment, all the girls wanted Sam to be in their group. He pulled his weight.
‘I said I’d let him know.’
‘You said what? You’re crazy. Everyone wants to go out with Sam.’
‘Alison and Rosa, please keep the conversation for recess.’ That was our homeroom teacher, Mrs Henry.
I brought it up again as we walked to our first class. ‘What’s the problem, Rosa? Sam’s cute … and nice.’
‘Yes, I know, but I haven’t had much to do with boys. With all the mess in the family in Sydney, I was always babysitting Gio. My weekends got used up.’
‘All the more reason for you to say yes to Sam now. Do something good for yourself.’ I was starting to talk like Mrs Goodall.
Rosa just shrugged and didn’t say anything more about it for the rest of the day.
That afternoon after school we were supposedly doing exam revision together. We sat on the floor in the living area of Rosa’s house with the TV on softly in the background. Our books and notes were spread around us.
‘Sam asked me again, Allie. He wants us to go ice-skating.’
‘So go.’ I couldn’t see why Rosa was reluctant.
‘I don’t know.’ Rosa shrugged her shoulders.
I was astonished. ‘Why don’t you know? Don’t you like ice-skating?’
‘I love it.’
‘Well?’
‘Look, Allie, I don’t know Sam very well. What am I going to talk to him about?’
‘But you’ve got lots in common … school, teachers … and he’s in the debating team. You could talk about that.’
‘That’s part of it. He’s smart.’
‘And so are you.’
Rosa paused. ‘Allie, if I asked you a really big favour, would you do it for me?’ She took my hand and held it.
‘You know I would if I could.’
‘Come with me.’
She couldn’t be serious. ‘Come with you on a date? You’re joking!’
&nb
sp; ‘Please.’
‘What? I can’t come with you when you go out with a boy. It’s weird.’
‘Well, I won’t go. That’s it.’ Rosa dropped my hand and turned away.
‘Rosa, don’t be crazy. Anyway, I’ve never been ice-skating. I’d be hopeless.’
‘You’d pick it up easily. You’re very sporty.’
‘Sam would hate it, Rosa. Your friend coming along to supervise. How creepy.’
We left it then and went back to our biology revision.
Five minutes later, Dario sauntered out from the kitchen eating a hot dog. He’d obviously been listening. ‘Going on a date, little Rosa?’ he asked.
She raised her eyebrows at me. ‘God, you’re annoying. Don’t you have somewhere to be?’
‘Word of advice. If you want Allie to go with you, you really need to have another guy there. That way your guy won’t feel outnumbered.’
The idea made sense, but where were we going to get another guy?
‘Guys who want to go ice-skating with girls on a Saturday afternoon don’t grow on trees, Dario,’ Rosa said sarcastically.
‘Well, I could come.’
‘What, to chaperone me?’
‘No … sort of like a date for Allie … a pretend date. Then you have two couples and it looks normal.’
Rosa was quiet for a minute.
Was she actually thinking about the idea?
‘Do you mean it, Dario? What about your job?’
‘I’m owed a few hours off. I’ll do it for you. And it has the advantage that you’ll have wheels. We can pick what’s his name up on the way.’
Rosa looked at me, pleading.
What was I getting myself into? Ice-skating? I’d never done it before, and with gorgeous Marlon Brando-featured Dario there, I was bound to make a complete fool of myself.
But I owed Rosa. ‘Okay … okay.’
‘Yes!’ Rosa hugged me tight.
‘Don’t let me make a complete idiot of myself, please,’ I said as I hugged her back.
I was petrified. Over the next few days I watched every YouTube video I could find about ice-skating. Choosing the correct size shoe; the starting posture; how to keep your balance; even how to fall and get up again. I practised it all in my room, but I shouldn’t have worried. Saturday was the best fun I’d ever had.
First I watched Sam and Rosa skating together. They glided, wheeled and weaved holding hands as if they’d been skating together forever. Then Dario and Rosa together. It was beautiful. They were like graceful birds, circling each other, moving away then coming back together in another dance. They reminded me of a film clip I had seen of a pair of brolgas.
When they came back to where Sam and I were sitting, I said, ‘You two look amazing together.’
‘Yes, we used to do a lot of ice-skating together as a family in Sydney,’ Rosa said.
‘Your turn now, Allie,’ Dario said.
Suddenly, my heart was in my mouth, and I was awkward and shy, but he patiently took me through the basics, and before long I was able to stay upright and to glide as if I wasn’t just a beginner. Dario stayed with me and we circled the outside of the rink until I was ready to be more adventurous.
‘You’re fit,’ Dario said. ‘Most people can’t do it so easily the first time.’
The afternoon went too quickly. Soon all four of us were skating together holding hands and whooping with excitement.
We had milkshakes and hamburgers at the café, and then Sam and Rosa went for one more skate together. Dario and I talked hesitantly. He told me about his university course in ecological science, but he said that this real interest was music. One day he wanted to own a store that specialised in twentieth-century music.
‘Which artists?’
‘The King, of course, Elvis Presley, but really all of the artists and bands from the 1960s and 70s. It was an incredible era in music. And I love vinyl records. I have a massive collection. I’m always scouting around garage sales and bargain shops to find more. Well, that’s me. Tell me about yourself, Allie.’
‘Nothing much to tell. Year Eleven at the same school as Rosa. She’s my best friend.’
‘Do you like school?’
‘Yeah, I do.’
‘Rosa says that you’re clever, as well as hard working.’
‘Yeah, I guess I am.’ My tongue seemed to have developed a bad case of warts.
‘I hear your mum died. I’m sorry.’
‘Thanks. I hope you don’t mind Dario, but I’m not ready yet to talk about it.’
‘I get that.’
He was nice. He didn’t seem to be the know-all bore that Rosa had described him as. He just seemed ordinary, and a bit shy like me. But I didn’t get relationships between brothers and sisters, never having had one.
We watched Rosa and Sam for a while, and then Dario turned to me again. ‘Can I pay you a compliment?’
I could feel myself blushing.
‘You have really beautiful hair.’
Now I was bright red. How embarrassing.
Then Dario said, ‘You’re different from other girls. You don’t flirt.’
I didn’t know how to flirt. My life until now hadn’t had much room for it. ‘Thanks, Dario. You’re nice too. Different from what I expected.’
‘Different from what Rosa told you? Well, families can get on each other’s nerves.’
Then Sam and Rosa came back and we were in Dario’s car heading home. Sam and Rosa held hands in the back seat while the most soulful, emotional voice I’d ever heard sang through Dario’s sound system. He was listening intently with the volume turned up loud.
‘Who is it, Dario?’
‘Don’t you recognise the voice? The King, Elvis, singing “American Trilogy”. It always makes me a bit emotional.’
Elvis Presley died before I was born, but right then in Dario’s car, it felt like he was singing just for me.
Chapter 60
Leo Brennan
Wednesday, 19 October
The old dog!
Last night, the Judge came to see me.
‘Need to talk to you about something,’ he had said. ‘Just you and me. It’s a family matter.’
Okay, so Trent’s not family! But I wasn’t going to argue the point until I knew what it was about. ‘Why so secretive, Dad?’
‘Not secretive really. I just wanted to tell you about something and get your advice.’
This was new. Never once had the Judge asked my advice about anything.
‘Okay, Dad, let’s go outside.’
It was pleasant on our tiny back veranda. I could smell the jasmine that hung over the fence, and hear Chester in the corner gnawing on a resurrected bone.
I brought out a cup of coffee for each of us.
‘Okay, fire away.’
‘Well, Leo, this will be a surprise, perhaps a shock. I’m … I’m hoping to marry again.’
By some miracle I didn’t fall backwards off my chair and spill my coffee, but I was flabbergasted. ‘Married? You’ve never said anything about this?’
‘No, I haven’t.’
‘Is it someone I know?’
You’ve met her once. Nadia Godlewski … Professor Nadia Godlewski. She was at Borys Stasiewicz’s funeral.’
‘That Polish woman who sang?’ I recalled that she’d helped Trent and Jossie on the murder case.
‘Yes, she’s a Professor of Polish literature. She was instrumental in identifying the old man.’
‘Does she know about this?’ Perhaps, I thought, he was being fanciful, imagining a mutual attraction where none existed.
‘Yes, we’ve been seeing each other regularly for some months.’
At his age! Sneaking around with a new love. ‘What about the age difference, Dad?’
‘She’s sixty-eight and I’m eighty. It’s not such a big difference.’
‘She didn’t look anything like sixty-eight the day I met her.’
‘No, she’s extremely healthy and full of vit
ality. She works full time and intends to keep doing so well into the future. She’s applying for funding to set up a Centre for Polish Studies at the university.’
‘Well, I must say, Dad, you know how to drop a bombshell. But what about Alison, if Nadia accepts you?’
‘Alison will stay with me, of course, in the apartment. Eventually she will own it. If Nadia accepts my proposal, she will decide for herself where she lives. She has a house near the university and will probably want to keep it. Those things can be worked out.’
He’d obviously been making plans. ‘What do you want from me, Dad?’
‘Your reaction? Your advice? Perhaps even your blessing.’
This was a very different Judge from the one who had blustered and complained about his daughter daring to be ill, on that Monday after we had to have her taken to hospital. It was more than the simple fact that he’d mellowed. No, he had changed in fundamental ways.
His authoritative air had gone, and he was just like any of us now, fumbling, a little scared, hopeful, trying to find his way in the years that were left to him, and yes, humble. It was not a word I ever thought I’d use about him, but faced with the miracle of unexpected love, he was humble. The arrogance of all his certainties had left him.
In that moment I felt that our roles were reversed, that he was the nervous son hoping for his father’s approval, and I was the one who could put a seal on his happiness or deny it to him.
Suddenly, I was inordinately fond of the old fellow. ‘My reaction, Dad? Surprise, even shock, but not sadness. You’ve been alone for almost twenty years. My reaction is happiness for you. My advice? Do it. Ask her. “Screw your courage to its sticking place.” That’s Shakespeare, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, Macbeth.’
‘My blessing, Dad? You have it in spades.’ I reached across to shake his hand, but then there was another surprise in that night of surprises …
He stood and pulled me into an embrace. ‘Thank you, Son, thank you.’
We both had tears in our eyes. But there was one more thing. ‘You know that I’ll tell Trent. We tell each other everything.’
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