Nancy Business

by R. W. R. McDonald

  The Airbnb’s front door was locked. I knocked. My tummy felt sore after all our adventures. I rubbed it which helped.

  Devon opened the door and squealed like I was a surprise visitor. ‘Do not go anywhere,’ he said, and ran back inside. He came back and passed me a piece of paper. ‘This is for you.’ It was a new list. In red pen he had drawn a cat’s face taking up the whole page; it had love heart eyes and a big smile. It reminded me of Piggy-Cat. On its forehead he wrote ‘Heart things’:

  The sway of a maxi dress in summer

  Piggy-Cat

  Sissy XXOXX

  I grinned and kissed his cheek. ‘I love it, thank you.’

  He gave me a quick hug, then peered behind me at the car. ‘Where’s Pike?’

  ‘Come on,’ I said, handing him the car keys. ‘He wants to meet us at Number Four. We dropped him there this morning.’ Devon frowned and looked at me for details but I just shrugged. ‘Something about the new ensuite.’

  Devon locked up and we got in the car. He unzipped a black toiletries bag and pointed to the two gold ‘Cs’ on it. ‘Who is this?’

  ‘Chanel?’ I said.

  ‘Very good.’ He pulled out a lip gloss and moved the rear-view mirror. ‘There are two types of people in this world, Tippy,’ he said, layering it on. ‘Those who can put on makeup.’ He put the lip gloss away and re-positioned the mirror. When he switched on the engine, I realised that was the end of his lesson. I wasn’t sure I knew what he meant but I nodded—it must be from one of his lists.

  Devon checked behind him and pulled out. We stopped at the intersection by the Bully, then turned left on to Rata Street, heading across town to Number Four.

  ‘Took me a long time to realise,’ Devon said, ‘but basically he’s a dog and I’m a cat person.’

  ‘Uncle Pike?’ I said. ‘I like both.’ I wound down my window as Devon turned up Mum’s stereo, Sharon O’Neill, ‘Maxine’. We sang along until we reached the cul-de-sac of Ronsdale Place.

  Uncle Pike stood in front of the mailbox, which he’d covered with a white table cloth. He held a big bunch of red roses. He had a new short haircut and wore a black suit. He looked very handsome. I gave him a wave and he waved back.

  Devon’s chin trembled as he slowed down and parked.

  I rubbed his shoulder. ‘He misses you. He’s so sorry.’

  Devon wiped his eyes and let out a big sigh. ‘What if it isn’t enough?’

  ‘It has to be.’

  He dabbed under his eyes with the tips of his fingers. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Of course.’ I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. ‘I’m here if you need me.’ I hoped he didn’t, they needed a lot of alone time. ‘You’ve got this, Sissy. You look totally unmanageable.’

  Devon blew out a shuddery breath and gave me a small smile. ‘Thanks, beautiful. When did you get so grown up?’ I squeezed his hand. He got out and walked slowly towards my uncle.

  Uncle Pike handed him the roses and I could make out the word ‘Sorry’. Devon stood still while my uncle talked. Finally, Devon’s shoulders relaxed. He talked and nodded.

  I smiled. It was all going to be okay.

  My uncle whipped off the white tablecloth like a magician and moved to the side. On the mailbox was a large gold number seven. I gasped and clapped.

  Devon held his head in his hands, crying.

  Uncle Pike wrapped his arms around him and they kissed. I leaned back into my seat and felt truly happy. Inside my pants felt warm and wet. ‘Shit.’ I pulled on my waistband and checked. Blood.

  I needed Mum.

  Mum met me at Riverstone Medical Centre carpark and gave me a quick hug and a pad. She had to finish something at work, but would be dropped off home soon and meet us there. By now I wasn’t surprised; her work was important. It paid our bills and it had to come first.

  Devon pulled up into the drive and I got out, grabbing the Bully from our mailbox. It was a special edition, with BRIDGE CHAOS in large print across the front page. Devon chatted away to Uncle Pike as he untied Fabulon from the garage. They were so excited about my period that I almost wished I hadn’t told them.

  ‘You got your pad, sweetheart?’ my uncle called out from the garage.

  I waved it and the newspaper at them. ‘One sec,’ I said. I walked around the side of the house to my bedroom window. There was nothing else for it but to get wet in the bushes. It didn’t take long. Finally, I found it. I bent down and grabbed Piggy-Cat’s paw. I wiped it on my shorts. ‘Hello, Dad,’ I said. I squeezed its cold porcelain. I’ve missed you.

  Back inside, I stripped off and had a quick shower. Besides a dull throb in my lower tummy I expected my period to feel different. I thought I would feel different. Be different. My head ached as I got dressed, and the pad felt huge and embarrassing in my jeans. I found my loose blue trackies and put them on instead, then joined Uncle Pike at the kitchen table.

  Devon handed me a glass of water and Panadol. He kissed me on the cheek.

  ‘Tippy?’ Mum called out from the hallway.

  ‘In here,’ I shouted.

  Uncle Pike scanned the Bully supplement with all the photos from the memorial service. ‘Lennie, you look pregnant.’

  ‘What?’ she said.

  ‘I said you look pregnant,’ he yelled.

  Devon leaned over Uncle Pike. ‘Tell me. Is it bad?’

  My uncle held the paper to his chest. ‘Luckily, no one in Sydney will ever see it.’

  Devon frowned. ‘Really?’

  ‘Of course not, honey!’ Uncle Pike spread the newspaper out on the table. ‘You look amazing. You own it.’ It was a great photo of Devon. The MP, on the other hand …

  ‘Such a gift having the mystery box,’ Devon said, smiling.

  Mum came in and I stood up. ‘My big girl,’ she said. She hugged me then patted my hair. ‘You doing okay?’ I nodded and she kept her arm around my shoulders. ‘What are you yelling about, Pike?’

  ‘Photos from yesterday are in the paper,’ I said.

  Uncle Pike pointed to Mum’s. She frowned. ‘Oh my God, I look pregnant.’ He raised his eyebrows at me and I giggled.

  ‘Not funny, Tippy,’ she said, and gave me a big kiss. ‘I’ve just got to call work.’ I guess I wasn’t surprised she was doing another shift—nothing would stop her from going to work.

  ‘What’s that look for?’ Mum said to me. She dialled the number on the cordless beside me. ‘Kia ora, Becky? Helen here, I won’t be back in today. My daughter just got her period.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Later that afternoon Mum yelled out to me from the hallway, ‘You can come out now!’

  I groaned. Bunny Whiskers raised her head from the end of my bed. I’d let her in the window to keep me company. I didn’t want to uncurl and lose the warm wheat-bag on my tummy, or let go of Piggy-Cat’s paw, which I had made into a necklace with a leather cord.

  Mum opened the door a crack. ‘You wanted to be a grown-up,’ she said. ‘Lucky you, you got your wish. Now get up, I have a surprise for you.’

  I sighed and sat up. What now? Bunny Whiskers hopped off and stretched. I pulled on my Nancys 3.0 T-shirt that Devon had made last year, the black one with pink writing and a smoking pink triangle on the back. I scooped up the cat, replacing my wheat-bag for her, and shuffled out to the garage.

  ‘Surprise!’ yelled a crowd of people on my driveway and out on the street. Bunny Whiskers freaked out, dug her claws into me then bolted out of my arms. ‘Fuck,’ I said before I could stop myself. The scratches burned. I rubbed them while my brain tried to work out who all these people were, staring at me. Neighbours, Devon and Uncle Pike with Fabulon, Mum, Mrs Brown and Melanie. It wasn’t my birthday. I rubbed my eyes. Had I forgotten about a street party? Balloons and streamers were tied to the mailbox and in the garden.

  ‘Happy first period!’ Devon yelled then blew a party horn.

  No. I cringed and hugged myself.

  Melanie smirked. ‘Kind of the last thin
g you want right now?’

  Fabulon bounded over to me, aiming for my crotch. Mum took a photo of me. ‘For Facebook.’

  ‘Mum!’ I pushed Fabulon away and shuffled outside. Jack Pepper waved in the crowd. My cheeks instantly burned and I wished I wasn’t wearing my fluffy slippers. I half waved back, hoping I had fallen asleep and this was actually a nightmare.

  Devon handed me a rainbow coloured butterfly helium balloon. ‘I couldn’t find a menarche balloon—’

  ‘Trust me,’ Uncle Pike said. ‘He asked everywhere.’

  I giggled until I realised not only did my entire street know, but now the whole town knew. I pulled down on my T-shirt. I needed to get back inside and change. I noticed my tablet in Devon’s hands. Oh no. ‘Is that NaiNai?’ She waved at me and I waved back. I crouched so I could hear her.

  ‘Why are there so many people?’ she said. ‘It is too noisy.’

  ‘Tippy got her period,’ Devon said. ‘Woot!’

  NaiNai’s glasses took up the screen. ‘What?’

  ‘Call you back later when it’s quiet, NaiNai,’ I shouted, then gave her a smile and hung up. Great, now Shanghai knew as well.

  My uncle passed me a fat envelope. I opened it and it was filled with cash. ‘I can’t take this.’ Uncle Pike pushed my hand away. ‘Seriously, you’ve lasted the longest out of all his P.A.s.’

  Devon smiled and nodded. ‘I usually only have them over Fashion Week.’

  I thought about how he’d treated Jack Pepper. ‘Maybe be nice to them?’ I said. ‘Like Jack.’

  ‘No hard feelings, Jackers,’ Devon called out. ‘It’s only business.’

  Jack grinned and gave a thumbs up.

  Mrs Brown tutted disapprovingly by the mailbox. ‘This is private women’s business. A girl’s got to have a few secrets.’

  ‘Way to go with transparency, Phyllis,’ Melanie said. ‘Chan, why do you keep stealing my cat?’ I gulped and tried to think of an answer, but she peered behind me. ‘Hold on, why’s that telly-douche at your period party? Are they filming this?’

  My heart sank and I turned around. Hornblower was loping up the street. I pushed the dog down again.

  ‘Did you invite him?’ Devon asked Uncle Pike.

  My uncle pulled Fabulon off me and held him by his collar. ‘Don’t look at me, he’s your boyfriend.’

  Mrs Brown put her arm through Devon’s. ‘I did,’ she said. ‘Michael’s mum and I were close.’

  ‘Hey, lover,’ Hornblower called out to Devon and waved. Beside me Uncle Pike gritted his teeth.

  ‘And now he’s all alone,’ Mrs Brown said, patting Devon’s hand.

  Melanie rolled her eyes. ‘Great, another queer for your bow. What’s the collective noun for gays?’

  ‘A studio?’ Devon said.

  ‘A rainbow?’ I said. Uncle Pike smiled.

  Mrs Brown lightly stroked her throat. ‘A swimming pool,’ she murmured, gazing at Hornblower approaching.

  ‘Grandma,’ Melanie said. ‘You lurker. Way to sexualise a minority.’

  Devon shrugged. ‘I can work with that.’

  Hornblower joined us. ‘Phyllis, Pickles, Maria.’ He looked down his nose at me. ‘Extras …’

  ‘Great you could come to Tippy’s lady party,’ Mrs Brown said.

  I fake-smiled up at him. ‘There’s no “I” in team.’

  Uncle Pike roared with laughter.

  Hornblower’s lip curled. ‘You’re a very strange girl.’

  ‘You are.’ Melanie grabbed my arm and dragged me away. ‘Enough period drama, I need some “water”. You didn’t tell me your builder was so hot.’

  Pete came up to us. ‘The boys invited me.’ He put his arm around Mum. ‘Been too long, Helen.’

  Mum smiled and gave him a hug. ‘Let’s get you a drink.’ She took his order.

  ‘I’ll help,’ Melanie said. ‘I’ll get you a water, Tippy.’ Before I could say no, she left with Mum.

  ‘Tippy,’ Pete said, ‘I want you to know I’m here. If there’s ever anything you need—especially when these two head back to Sydney. I think it’s something your dad, and I know Angus, would want.’

  ‘Thanks, Pete,’ I said. ‘Same here.’ I glanced over at Uncle Pike and Devon chatting to each other, their hair touching. I didn’t feel as sad about them leaving this time. I knew they’d be back, there was Number Seven Ronsdale Street now. I grinned. With my P.A. money I can buy Mum and me a holiday to Sydney to visit them.

  ‘Please stay there,’ I said to Pete. ‘I’ve got something for you.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Something I prepared earlier, hold on.’ I went back into my room and grabbed the present I’d made for him. I took it back out and handed it over.

  He opened it and stared at it for a long time, then held it to his chest. ‘I love it, thank you.’

  ‘I thought you could put it on your photo shelf,’ I said.

  ‘What is it?’ Melanie came over to have a look, holding two full glasses. Swirling around us was the sound of music and laughter from the street party.

  Pete showed her. I had copied and cropped the group photo to just Dad and Angus, grinning like maniacs.

  ‘Nice going, Chan.’ Melanie gave me a wink and handed me a drink. Lemonade. I was thirsty. I sculled it back and gagged, my eyes watering. Vodka and lemonade.

  Melanie clinked my glass. ‘Keep up, you’re a woman now.’ She tossed hers back and grimaced. ‘I just met Jack Pepper’s girlfriend, I’m getting us a refill.’ She grabbed my glass.

  The party was winding down with just a couple of street people besides us left. A giggling Mrs Brown and Melanie took off on a mission to find cigarettes, I think. In the living room, Devon was asleep on the couch, his head resting on Uncle Pike’s shoulder. My uncle smiled at me and put his finger to his lips.

  I nodded. My face felt flushed from the vodka. I crept into the kitchen and had several glasses of water. I had avoided looking out our living room window all day, but now I purposefully stared below at the bridge and the blackened bank where Mr Dalrymple had died. I killed him. I am a murderer. I shook my head to clear it and rubbed my belly. At least the cramps had faded and the vodka had numbed my headache.

  Back on the couch, Devon awoke. He stayed lying on Uncle Pike, who murmured something to him. Devon laughed. ‘I’ll sparkle your water,’ he said to Uncle Pike. On the floor beside them was a familiar book, which was all taped up. Devon noticed me looking and smiled.

  ‘Is that your phone book?’ I asked Devon.

  He picked it up and held it to his chest. ‘Kintsugi: the Japanese art of mending something to mend yourself.’ He showed me the taped-up cover. ‘It needs some help with my gold pen and better tape. Who knew these antique books had so many pages? But I’m going to follow your lead, Tippy, and talk to someone when I get back to Sydney.’

  ‘We both are,’ Uncle Pike said. ‘We’re not having babies yet, but we’re not not having them either.’ I smiled, happy for them. Hopefully, Devon would be able to sleep again. Uncle Pike kissed him on the neck and then they started pashing. I left them for another glass of water. As I listened to the party outside, I realised my counsellor had been right: firsts were hard but they were easier when you weren’t alone.

  Mum came in from the garage; the stereo and people laughing were loud then muffled again as she closed the door behind her. ‘What the—?’ She stared past me at the balcony.

  I turned. Lorraine was out there, leaning against the open doorframe. Beside her was the photographer guy she had bullied the morning of the explosion. Why’s she here? I headed to the door.

  Lorraine gave Mum a head-tilt hello.

  ‘Unstoppable force meet immovable object,’ Uncle Pike said.

  Devon stood up. ‘I bet they’ve come to take your photo for the front page,’ he said to me. ‘Who knew Riverstone took menarche so seriously?’

  Lorraine stayed outside, arms crossed. ‘Get over yourself, Chan. You’re not that interesting. I’ve got some
news.’

  ‘Hold on,’ Mum said, walking over.

  Lorraine stiffened and sighed. Uncle Pike and Devon hurriedly got up and beat Mum to the balcony, joining me outside. Mum came to the door. I got ready to jump in front of Lorraine to protect her.

  Instead, Mum held out her bruised hand to Lorraine. ‘I’m sorry. What you did was a total dick move, but I am sorry. I should never have hit you.’

  All of us Nancys looked at each other, our eyes popping out. Mum?

  Lorraine shook her hand. ‘I would’ve hit me too. Next time just not the face.’

  Mum agreed. ‘But if you ever show her photos of any crime scene …’

  ‘Noted,’ Lorraine said.

  She waited until Mum had given us some space. Lorraine squinted at me. ‘In this light your hair looks orange.’ I glared at her and she shrugged. ‘Police are still searching Dalrymple’s property and there are no other bombs, but they’ve already found components and a USB with plans.’

  ‘Twins!’ Mrs Brown yelled out from her kitchen window. She laughed hysterically, giving us a thumbs up. Devon waved while the rest of us ignored her.

  Lorraine continued, ‘Just thought you should know the police say Dalrymple’s engine was faulty, that’s what caused the explosion. They’ve done another bomb search but haven’t found anything. You know that note was your mate, Landers?’

  I frowned. ‘His engine?’

  She sighed. ‘Keep up, Chan. Dalrymple’s death, it wasn’t you. Not everything is about you.’

  ‘This party is,’ Devon said.

  My hand flew to my mouth. I’m not a murderer! I’m not a murderer! My eyes bugged out and I jumped up and down.

  Lorraine’s lip curled. ‘Would you like me to take you to his grave so you can do that?’

  Uncle Pike beamed. ‘No need.’ He enveloped Devon and me in a group hug and we jumped up and down.

  ‘I still don’t get what is wrong with you people,’ Lorraine said.

  ‘Ditto,’ my uncle said. ‘Want to join our hug?’

  ‘Never,’ she said. ‘Drop off that single malt and the cigarettes at work before you leave.’