‘Ha!’ said Tim.
‘Shush, you! You’re here to make pasta, not talk.’ Caro gave him the finger. ‘What was I saying? Your stupid face: that’s right. It’s perfect. People want a grieving mother to look sort of dazed and helpless. If you’re in control, they get suss.’
‘I think what my wife means is: you have a kind face, Judy. Sympathetic.’
‘Stupid face,’ Caro mouthed. ‘Stupid !’
Judy blushed, despite herself. ‘You really think so, Tim?’
‘You look trustworthy.’ He squeezed Caro’s shoulders. ‘Not like this one.’
‘It’s why he loves me.’ Caro smiled up at her husband. ‘He cracks people’s spines for a living. He’s basically the devil.’
‘But …’ Judy opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish. ‘It’s trashy. Isn’t it? To put it all out there like that?’
‘I haven’t seen this particular program.’ Caro shrugged. ‘They’re all a bit trashy. But what have we got to lose?’
‘It feels dirty.’
‘Your daughter was murdered. It is dirty.’ Caro registered Judy’s brimming eyes and backtracked. ‘But it’s your call, Jude. Don’t do anything you’re not comfortable with.’
‘I don’t know,’ Judy said. ‘I’ll say something stupid. Or they’ll drag all my skeletons out of my closet and make me look like a homewrecker. Like mother, like daughter.’
‘That’s what contracts are for.’ Caro fiddled with the stem of her wineglass. ‘I can get a referral for an entertainment lawyer. One of my Year 11s does TV. She’s in that show about horse girls.’
Judy screwed up her face. ‘Horse girls?’
‘Yes, horse girls. Having horsey adventures. Fighting animal cruelty and romancing stable boys and so on. God!’ Caro threw back her head in exasperation. ‘Don’t give me that look. I’m not a camera!’
‘I can’t help it,’ Judy said. ‘It’s just my face.’
‘It’s a really stupid face.’ Caro smirked. ‘It’d be even stupider to waste it.’
The contract stipulated no mention of the age difference between Judy and her late husband. No mention of any indiscretions that may have taken place during their seventeen-year union. No mention of his previous marriage or the offspring resulting from this marriage. Marko’s country of origin was hereby to be referred to as ‘Croatia’. ‘Yugoslavia’ meant war and communism, the lawyer said. ‘Croatia’ meant sparkling seas and beauty queens.
‘Marko’s village was a long way from the sea, though,’ Judy protested. ‘It was way up in the north. Practically Slovenia.’
They filmed the week before Easter. Judy wished they could’ve filmed some other time. Easter had all kinds of bad associations, the way black plastic did, cows, the moon on certain cloudless nights.
‘Today’s the day!’ Nicole gushed, meeting her at reception. ‘How do you feel? How was the media training?’
Nicole had already asked her about the media training twice, over the phone.
Judy shrugged. ‘It’s a lot to remember.’
‘You’ll do great. You’re a natural. Is that what you’re wearing?’
‘Oh. Well.’ Judy opened the glossy shopping bag she’d brought along. ‘I packed a couple of others. There’s this white one. Or this, with the flowers. I figured flowers are nice and, well … mumsy.’
‘White can be harsh under the studio lights. And patterns are distracting. Sal didn’t tell you that?’ Nicole ushered her into Hair and Makeup. ‘Never mind. The blue’s good. It brings out your eyes. See you on the other side!’
‘You’re not staying?’
‘I’ll be around. Liz will be doing your hair and makeup. Liz, this is Judy. She’s doing a pre-record with Brendan. Judy, you’ll be great.’
With a waggle of her fingers, Nicole left her in the hands of ‘Liz’ — a tall, plain-faced woman with a pragmatic topknot.
‘What’re you recording?’ she asked, examining Judy’s hair.
‘Oh.’ Judy wasn’t expecting to have to explain. ‘This crime show. 8:30 Unsolved.’
‘Are you a witness?’
‘A family member. The mother, actually.’
‘We’ll keep it soft and natural, then.’
‘I hope you have waterproof mascara.’
‘We use this.’ Liz showed her the tube. ‘You can cry rivers without it smudging.’
‘Well. Good.’
‘Brendan’s a pro. He’ll make it easy. Hair up or down?’
‘I don’t know. Down, I guess. If you can just give it some volume?’
As Liz mucked around with hairsprays and hot air, Judy closed her eyes, breathed like Agnes had taught her. Wiping down her face, Liz asked, ‘Got much on for Easter?’
‘Just mooching around the house, probably.’ Her chest tightened. ‘You?’
‘We’re taking the kids up to Coffs Harbour. Six hours of bickering in the backseat. I can already hear it.’
Judy smiled and closed her eyes again.
‘I know it seems like a lot, but it’s not, under the studio lights,’ Liz explained when she was done caking on the makeup. ‘This is what “natural” looks like in La-La Land.’
Right on cue, Nicole rapped on the door. ‘Lovely, Judy! Come on, I’ll take you through to the studio. Don’t worry about your bags.’
They passed through a maze of halls, doors, cables, bright screens. A young guy in a black T-shirt sat her on a plump couch and unceremoniously attached a microphone to her breast, asked, ‘What did you have for breakfast?’
‘Toast.’ She blinked in confusion. ‘Just toast.’
He gave her the thumbs-up, disappeared behind a screen. Nicole smiled, tight-lipped, and checked her watch. ‘I’ll see where Brendan is.’
Judy sat alone under the lights until Nicole returned with a vaguely familiar-looking middle-aged man.
‘Don’t get up,’ he told her, when she rose to shake his hand. ‘I’ll get down.’
Brendan sat in the armchair across from her. When the young guy asked what he’d eaten for breakfast, he purred, ‘Wouldn’t you like to know!’
Then it was just the two of them, and a whole lot of cameras.
‘It’s all very simple,’ Brendan told her. ‘If you muck up, they’ll edit it out.’
Judy nodded.
‘Ready?’
There was no choice but to nod again. Brendan made a cameras-rolling gesture, winked then steepled his hands.
‘Judy, tell me,’ he said solemnly. ‘Who was Paulina Novak?’
‘Well.’ Judy’s eyes were already wet. ‘She was the love of my life.’
It aired in July, on bin night. Judy refused to leave the house, but Caro insisted on coming over with two bottles of wine — and on using the good glasses.
‘I can’t believe you still have these!’ Caro cackled, filling the ornate crystal glasses to the brim. ‘You’re a monster, Jude.’
‘What was I meant to do, smash them? It’s not my fault Ljubica turned her nose up at them.’
‘I mean, it is your fault.’
When Judy glimpsed herself on-screen for the first time, with her blue blouse and watery red eyes, narrating that awful day in words she couldn’t remember saying, she hid her face with a cushion. ‘Turn it off. I’m hideous.’
‘Shh,’ Caro said. ‘I’m listening.’
Judy kept her face covered for the rest of the segment. The ad break came quicker than she expected.
‘That was horrible.’ She lowered the cushion. ‘Do I really look like that?’
‘More or less.’ Caro wiped her eyes. ‘Sorry to break it to you.’
‘Horrible.’ Judy sighed as an ad came on for Olay anti-ageing cream. ‘I wonder how many people will be rushing out to buy that stuff, after seeing my face?’
‘You were good, Jude
.’ Caro topped up their wine. ‘Better than I expected. Really.’
They drank in silence, until an ad flashed by for the latest Mazda. They caught each other’s eyes and cracked up.
‘Gawd, that’s tacky!’
‘You shouldn’t’ve mentioned the make of her car so many times.’
‘I said “Mazda”?’
‘“Mazda this”, “Mazda that”. They should send you a freebie.’
As the ads wound down, Judy braced herself for her hideous face again. Instead, a photograph filled the screen: Paulina and her ex-boyfriend, Vinnie, in a place of white-washed walls and sunshine.
‘Paulina had problems.’ Vinnie’s handsome face darkened the screen. ‘Serious problems.’
‘Vinnie?’ Caro muttered disbelievingly. ‘They got Vinnie?’
Vinnie stared down the camera. ‘Trusting her was the worst mistake of my life.’
‘That little shit.’ Caro shot Judy an apprehensive glance. ‘Turn it off?’
Judy’s throat clenched. Her fingers gripped the wineglass, cold and white.
‘No,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m listening.’
DOWN SEASON
‘You’re really staying here all through down season?’ Kymba pulled down her bathers to nurse baby Ollie. ‘With the renovations and everything?’
‘I barely hear them anymore.’ Sipping her Pine Brew, Paulina listened to the distant whirring of machinery. ‘Anyways, Baz asked me to collect the mail.’
Kymba fit her nipple into Ollie’s mouth. ‘Aren’t you scared at night?’
‘Scared of what? The ghost of Gilligan King?’
‘My cousin Cyndee had a guy walk into her house while her husband was away.’
‘What, she didn’t lock her door?’
‘It’s unFairfolk to lock doors. People think you’re hiding something.’
‘What happened?’ Paulina watched Kymba’s white lion tattoo happily tolerating the feeding frenzy. ‘Did he rape her?’
‘No … He just complained about his wife for a while then asked for a sandwich.’
‘Gawd, Fairfolk men are fuckwits!’ Paulina clapped her pale, goosebumped thigh. ‘I’ll keep some bread by the bed. I’ll be right.’
‘Mummy!’ Hunter, floaties on his arms, wailed from the water. ‘I’m hungry, too!’
‘Want a sandwich?’ Paulina asked. ‘Wanna complain about your wife while I make you a sandwich?’
‘I want boobies !’
‘You’re too old, Hunty.’ Kymba blushed. ‘He gets so jealous.’
Paulina patted her chest. ‘No boobs, but I can make you a sanga, Hunty. Peanut butter, howabout that?’
‘You don’t have to.’ Kymba rolled her eyes. ‘He’s just attention-seeking.’
Paulina hoisted herself from the sunchair. ‘Not like I’ve got anything better to do.’
She tiptoed to the gate and lifted the latch with care, shivering in her bikini and board shorts. Eddy and his apprentice, Leki, were toting the old ceiling fan out of cabin two.
In cabin twelve, she made Hunter’s sandwich, cut it into triangles and sliced off the crusts. Crammed the crusts into her mouth.
‘Here.’ Paulina set the sandwich down at the poolside, then lay down in defeat. ‘I need to quit beer. I’m getting a gut.’
‘I can see your ribs.’ Shaking her head, Kymba draped a towel around Hunter’s shoulders. ‘But you should drink less beer. If you’re worried.’
‘Can’t really afford vodka right now. I need a new car.’
‘Is your probation period over yet?’
‘Ended last week.’ She reached for her tobacco and papers. ‘I had a look in the Fairfolk Daily. Nothing but utes. Maybe I should just go to The Car Kings?’
Grimacing, Kymba burped Ollie. ‘Car always overcharges.’
‘I’ll haggle.’
‘Want a lift into town?’ Kymba handed Hunter a sandwich-half. ‘I have to do some shopping before school pick-up.’
‘Sure. Drop me off at the bottle-O.’
Standing in line, Paulina’s head buzzed with the sound of her own blood. ‘Yorana,’ the old man in front of her said, raising his six-pack. Paulina smiled and said, ‘Yorana.’
Outside the bottle-O, she stopped to pat his border collie.
‘That’s Jake,’ the old guy said. ‘Jakey-boy.’
‘Jakey-boy!’ Paulina ruffled his ears. ‘Good boy!’
She stumbled a little, rising from her crouch; mumbled her thanks and weaved down the street to The Car Kings. The glisten of the new cars in the winter sun stung her eyes.
‘Yorana, sweetheart.’ Car King sidled up beside her. ‘See anything you like?’
‘Yeah.’ Paulina pointed at a blue car. ‘That one.’
‘The Mazda Astina? You looking to buy?’
‘Yeah. Totalled my Corolla on Valentine’s Day.’
‘I’ll give you a good price. Rabbit’s a friend of mine.’
‘Pfft!’ Paulina said. ‘Then you would’ve heard I dumped him?’
‘You lymed him, eh?’ Car looked her up and down. ‘I’ll give you a better price.’
‘Yeah? How much?’
‘$24,999, drive away.’
‘Yeah, nah!’ Paulina picked up her six-pack. ‘See ya!’
She walked back to Mutineers’ Lodge in the lengthening shadows, pausing to watch some cows. She checked the mail, then checked in on Eddy and Leki, installing a new sconce in cabin three. ‘Looks good,’ she said from the doorway, blowing smoke sideways.
‘Aye!’ said Leki. Eddy said nothing.
She finished her ciggie on the porch, then wandered through the dust to reception. They’d already laid down new floorboards, were installing a desk shaped like a ship’s prow.
‘Looks good,’ she repeated. ‘Must be almost done, yeah?’
‘Aye,’ said Stripe, named for the scar on his cheek. ‘Painter comes Friday.’
‘To do the mural?’
‘Jus’ the base.’
Paulina took the mail back to cabin twelve. Cracked open another beer and fridged the rest, then sat on the porch smoking and watching the guys clear up for the day. The sky was pink and blue like baby clothes when Eddy broke off from the crew, strolled over.
‘Hey,’ he said, dangling his muscular arms over the porch.
Paulina removed her headphones. ‘Hey.’
He had her bent over the kitchen counter within five minutes; was done within the next five. He didn’t use a condom, but when the cum leaked down her thighs, he fetched a toilet roll.
‘Thanks,’ she mumbled, cleaning herself up. ‘Wanna stay for a beer?’
‘Bes’ get home.’
‘Do you know anyone selling a car?’ She pulled up her shorts. ‘Something small?’
‘You tried The Car Kings?’
‘Was hoping for something second-hand.’ She shrugged. ‘Thanks for the root. Same time tomorrow?’
‘Bes’ not, eh. It’s Eeva’s birthday.’
Paulina smoked another ciggie on the porch after Eddy left, fantasised about slapping his wife next time she saw her. Then she went inside to shower.
After her shower, she watched Big Brother and ate some carrot sticks with peanut butter. Her mum rang after Big Brother.
‘You again?’ Paulina groaned. ‘Bloody hell, you need to get a life.’
‘I’m just calling to see how you are.’ Judy inhaled. ‘If you’re busy, I’ll go.’
‘Yeah, leave me alone.’ Paulina waited for her mum to hang up. ‘Did you watch Big Brother?’
‘Of course I did,’ Judy said delicately. ‘I have no life.’
‘Oi, how much do you reckon a Mazda Astina is worth? Brand-new?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. You should call up some dealers and compare.’
‘Can you do it for me?’
‘Paulina, you’re twenty-nine.’
‘Yeah, but. You like talking on the phone; you’re a receptionist.’
‘I get paid to talk on the phone. That’s not the same as liking it.’
‘Why do you keep calling me, then?’
Judy sighed. ‘Well, I suppose I can make some calls. I don’t think it’s a good investment, though. You don’t know how long you’re going to stay—’
‘Forever! It’s my home.’
‘Even so. All the salt air. It’ll degrade faster. You’re better off buying second—’
‘I want a new car! Bloody hell, can’t you let me have something to live for?’
‘Well, it’s your money. Just, try not to be impulsive.’
‘I’m asking your advice, aren’t I?’ Paulina beat her head against her beer can. ‘I’m not stupid. You think I’m gonna accept the first price Car King tells me?’
‘The car dealer’s name is “Car”?’
‘It’s short for ‘Carlyle’. Duh!’
Judy sniggered. ‘Gawd! That’s like me being named “receptionist”.’
‘Yeah, and my name’s “unemployed”. Get over it.’
‘You wouldn’t have any trouble finding a job in Syd—’
‘I’m not coming home!’
‘Okay, okay,’ Judy backtracked. ‘Paulina: are you okay? I mean, are you eating?’
‘Ugh!’ Paulina swigged her beer. ‘Yes.’
‘I don’t mean to baby you. Just, I worry about you, all by yourself out there.’
‘How do you know I’m by myself?’
‘Oh. You’re seeing someone?’
‘Yeah,’ Paulina bragged. ‘I am, actually. One of the guys from the work crew.’
‘Well. What’s he like?’
‘Just a regular guy. He’s a sparky.’
‘Well. Good for you.’
‘He’s married.’ Paulina listened to her mum drawing in her breath. ‘Don’t judge me!’
‘I’m not. Just … be careful.’
‘Yeah, yeah. We’re just rooting, okay? It’s not like he wants anything serious. Guys never wanna be serious with me.’
‘Don’t take it personally. Men aren’t very serious.’
The Newcomer Page 19
