‘And you know you need to be so careful with your diabetes,’ Lola’s mother carries on. ‘To eat a balanced diet and—’
‘Mum. I’m not anorexic. Or bulimic either.’ Lola isn’t entirely sure she knows the difference between the two terms, but it doesn’t matter. ‘I’ve been lazing around a lot, I guess, and I’m just not as hungry.’
And being in love can be a real appetite killer, did you know that? Let alone seeing your uncle having it off with his twin sister. Oh man, am I really the only person who knows about this?
Her mother takes a deep breath. ‘Well. That’s a relief.’ But she’s giving Lola a strange look, like she can’t quite figure her out. ‘Is there anything you want to tell me?’
‘No,’ Lola says, her vision blurring again, oh great.
‘Hey,’ Kiri says, giving her a hug. ‘Honey, don’t cry, I knew something was wrong.’
‘Nothing’s wrong,’ Lola choked. Nothing and everything. ‘I’m just tired.’
Her mother sighs. ‘I know you hate me asking this, but how have your blood sugars been?’
‘Sort of all over the place,’ Lola admits, hoping that will be enough to deflect her mother. At Kiri’s prompting, she shows Kiri the blood-sugar monitoring app she’s been using. Lola’s blood sugars resemble mountains, lots of peaks and valleys.
Her mother tuts. ‘No wonder you’re feeling worn out. Perhaps we should give the Diabetes Centre a call on Wednesday.’
‘Sure.’ Lola sits up. ‘I’ll go check it now.’
‘I’ll make you something to eat,’ her mother says, standing up. ‘We’re out of bread, but I can make you an omelette, how does that sound?’
‘Great.’ After reaching the bathroom, Lola closes the door behind her and sits on the closed toilet seat. I need to check my blood sugar. I need to— I need to—
She squeezes her eyes tight, but they keep leaking. They just won’t stop.
‘Jeez,’ McKenzie says, when Lola returns upstairs ten minutes later. ‘Are you turning into a vampire or something?’
‘I was testing my blood sugar,’ Lola says, before realising McKenzie is referring to Lola’s new habit of sleeping half the day away.
‘You and Noah sure must have a lot to talk about,’ McKenzie says, before flouncing out of the lounge.
‘What’s she talking about?’ Lola’s mother asks, passing her a plate loaded with egg.
Lola sits on a stool and picks up a fork. ‘I have no idea,’ she says, glad her mother can’t hear the rapid-fire beating of her heart. ‘You know how random she is. Where are the others?’
‘They were at the beach,’ Kiri says. ‘Although,’ she gestures at the window, ‘there’s Tom and Austin coming back now. I’m sure they’ll be back there this afternoon, if you want to join them.’
‘I’m sure.’ The omelette is like rubber on her tongue. Perhaps she should have stuck to cereal instead. After four mouthfuls, Lola pushes the plate aside.
‘Lola …’
‘I’ve got a bit of an upset stomach,’ Lola says. A bit is an understatement, but to say it’s any more than that will probably involve a trip to the doctor. Lola doesn’t think there’s a cure for her kind of illness.
‘You must tell me if you have any vomiting or …’
‘Diarrhoea, yeah, I know.’ Lola is walking down the back steps when she hears the piano. She spots Nana kneeling in the garden, a pile of weeds beside her. For once her grandmother is motionless.
The pianist can only be Molly. Lola’s father plays well, but when her aunt plays, Lola feels the music in her lungs, her blood and bones. And oh, she’s playing Lola’s favourite piece of music — Liszt’s ‘La Campanella’.
Turning her head, Nana catches Lola’s eye and puts a finger over her lips. Lola rests against a balcony post and lets the glassy notes flow over and through her.
‘Can you see,’ Nana murmurs, and Lola realises her grandmother is now standing beside her, ‘what she gave up?’
Turning, Lola realises that they are not alone. Noah is standing by the garage in his boardies, a surfboard tucked beneath his arm.
‘Well,’ Noah says, ‘I guess I wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t met my dad.’
Nana goes very still, before saying, ‘Of course you’re right, sweetheart. Of course.’ She turns back to her garden and fondles a browning rose petal. ‘The soil is so sandy here,’ she says, her bottom lip quivering. ‘No wonder I can’t get these to grow properly.’ After rising to her feet, she moves up the stairs and into the house, very slowly, as if her joints hurt.
Lola shoots a look at Noah. He shrugs and props the surfboard against the fence. The music stops and starts up again, a jazz piece Lola has heard several times over the past few weeks.
‘Austin,’ Lola says, creeping into the downstairs lounge. Austin and Molly are perched on piano stools, each in front of one of Nana’s Steinways. Molly’s body, angled towards Austin, is swaying with the music.
Trying to be unobtrusive, Lola sits on the couch. Austin is wearing pink shorts and no shirt; around his neck is a bone pendant Lola hasn’t seen before. His hat is perched sideways on his head.
‘Bring the man a cigarette and a beer.’ Tom flops down beside her.
‘I prefer cigars,’ Austin says, without missing a note.
Molly laughs. ‘I can just see you playing at the jazz bars in San Fran.’
‘Oh yeah.’ Austin picks out the notes to another tune, before launching into a song about leaving his heart in San Francisco. Lola smiles and drapes her legs over Tom’s lap. Her father often says Austin is lucky to be able to play by ear.
‘Ooh, listen to that, just like Ed Sheeran,’ Beckett says, sauntering through the ranch sliders. He’s wearing his cap backwards, his designer sunglasses sitting on top. Austin turns away from the piano.
‘Right, I think it’s time for a coffee,’ he says and walks out.
Beckett’s brow wrinkles. ‘Jeez, has he still got his undies in a knot over the other night?’
‘Maybe you should apologise,’ Lola says.
‘For what?’ Beckett looks truly mystified.
Lola takes her legs off Tom’s lap and sits upright. ‘How would you feel if someone asked if you were gay?’ Across the room, she sees Molly frown.
Beckett reaches for his cap. ‘I’d laugh. Because everyone would know it isn’t true.’
‘You are unbelievable,’ Lola says, her cheeks flaming, at the same time as Molly says, ‘Hang on, what’s all this about?’
‘I think we should forget about it.’ Tom looks at Molly. ‘It was just a game of Dare, Truth or Promise that went a bit feral on New Year’s.’
‘Yeah, like McKenzie daring Lola to kiss Noah,’ Beckett says, his smirk widening.
‘Which I didn’t,’ Lola snaps. ‘And wouldn’t,’ she hastens to add when Molly’s eyes alight on her. Molly has a strange look on her face that Lola doesn’t want to try to interpret. ‘Since he’s my cousin and all.’
‘I should hope not,’ Molly says briskly and stands up. ‘Perhaps you should stay away from those kind of games.’
‘Never again,’ Tom promises. ‘Yo, Bas-tard, are you up for a game of cards? We could even play — hey, Bastard, your namesake.’
‘I’ll just win,’ Noah says. ‘You know that, right?’
And Molly says, ‘Noah, can I talk to you for a moment?’
‘So, what did your mum want to talk about this afternoon?’ Lola asks. It’s later, much later. Midnight, and everyone else is asleep. Everyone except for Lola and Noah, curled together in his tent.
Noah kisses her beneath the angle of her jaw. ‘Nothing much,’ he says.
‘Are you sure?’ Lola can feel the grains of sea-salt on his skin, still cool from their swim. Tonight they went skinny-dipping. It’s the first time she’s done that since she was nine. She’d forgotten how good it felt.
‘I’m sure.’ Noah takes a deep breath. ‘Mum said, So did you kiss Lola on a dare on New Year’s Eve? And I said, Go
d, no, she’s my cousin.’
‘Oh,’ Lola says. ‘Great.’
Noah’s fingers flutter over her belly. ‘I don’t think she really knows anything.’
‘What about McKenzie?’
‘What about McKenzie? She’s just stirring. If she’d really seen something, everyone would know about it by now.’
‘She knows I come here,’ Lola says.
‘How do you know that?’
‘Because today she said, You and Noah sure must have a lot to talk about.’
‘So, maybe we do,’ Noah says, before kissing her again. ‘Is that a crime?’
‘No …’ Lola’s body is awake again — very, very awake. ‘But is it — is this wrong?’
‘First cousins can marry.’ Noah raises his head. ‘Are you still worrying about that?’
‘Aren’t you?’
‘Not right now.’ His breath stirs over her ear. ‘Stop thinking so much. Nothing is impossible, right?’
‘Nothing is impossible,’ she repeats, but what will Noah say if she tells him about Molly and Joe? Will it bring them closer or fling them apart? She wishes she knew. But she doesn’t want to test the waters right now, doesn’t want to waste the precious little time they have together.
She turns and kisses him, her fingers twining into his hair, until Noah groans; until he pushes her back against the pillow and kisses her from the hollow at the base of her throat to the most sensitive spot of all. She never thought she’d let anyone kiss her down there, never imagined anything could feel so good.
Lola moans, and they both freeze, listening. But all they can hear is the wind in the trees, the grinding of cicadas.
‘Sorry,’ she whispers.
‘My fault,’ Noah whispers back.
‘Definitely your fault.’ And then they are moving together again, and it doesn’t hurt this time, not at all.
‘Wow,’ she says afterwards, once their breathing has slowed. ‘That was — different.’
‘Different how?’
‘Good different. Amazing different.’ She strokes his belly and below, hears his breathing speed up again.
‘Again?’ He whispers, after an interminable time.
‘Again,’ she murmurs back, and so they do, slowly, slowly, until she feels as if she is spinning into space.
‘Promise me we can do this forever,’ Lola says afterwards. She’s lying with her head on Noah’s chest, listening to the allegro beat of his heart.
‘Forever is a long time,’ he says, smoothing her hair.
She lifts her head. ‘But will you promise me?’
And Noah cups her face in his hands and says, ‘Yes, Lola, I promise.’
Chapter 24:
MOLLY
Something is happening between Noah and Lola.
It’s not just Beckett’s comments about the kiss on New Year’s Eve, which by all accounts never happened — at least, not in full view of everyone.
No, it’s Noah’s vehement denial that’s bothering Molly. He’s never been a good liar. Like Joe, he always fingers the side of his nose, as if worried he’s going to turn into Pinocchio.
‘So, nothing’s going on between you two?’ They’re sitting on the grassy area above the beach, watching the waves spill onto the sand.
‘We’re friends — is that a crime?’ Noah’s sandy eyebrows are slanting down towards each other. He’s been so angry this past year, ever since they moved to Melbourne. Escaped to Melbourne, in her case.
Escape, Molly is always trying to escape, but the world isn’t big enough.
‘Of course not.’ Molly clasps her son’s knee. ‘What about this argument with Aimee?’
Noah exhales. ‘We broke up.’
‘Seems only a week ago that you couldn’t wait to see her.’
‘Shit happens,’ Noah mumbles, an odd catch in his voice. Molly hasn’t seen Noah cry since he was thirteen, when Richard put his foot down about a trip to Kenya to meet up with Joe.
You’re taking him where? Over my dead body.
In the end, Molly had gone by herself to see Joe. She’s not sure if Noah has ever forgiven her for not taking him, or Richard for not letting him go.
‘Perhaps you’ll think differently once you see Aimee,’ Molly suggests.
‘I’m not seeing her, Mum. We’re finished. Don’t you get it? I think you should stop worrying.’ Noah stands up and marches back towards the road, towards the house.
‘That’s impossible,’ Molly mutters, stepping onto the sand. There she watches the endless motion of the waves, the cloud reflections scudding over the water. She loves the sea, and yet at the same time, she fears it — the vastness of it, the unpredictability. If it weren’t so forbidden, so dangerous, then perhaps it wouldn’t be quite so compelling. Just like her relationship with Joe.
But perhaps it’s not Joe she’s in love with. Maybe it’s her alter ego she’s drawn to, a Narcissus staring into a pool, in love with a reflection. Mirror, mirror.
It’s not like that, though, she thinks, kicking her feet through the shallows. Molly and Joe aren’t identical; they’re no closer than any other brother and sister. Perhaps she wouldn’t have even been attracted to him if they’d been brought up as siblings all along, instead of being separated for all those years. Joe is what it means to come home, to feel complete. And how can living a lie with Richard be more right than the love she has for her twin?
Maybe Noah is right. Maybe she should stop worrying.
But Molly is worrying. She can’t stop.
That night she lies awake in bed, listening to the house creak, to the pounding of her heart. When she feels the empty rectangle of mattress beside her, it’s cold. An hour since Joe left the room. Two years since they saw each other, but now his every absence is like an amputation.
I can’t keep doing this, can’t wait another twelve months until next time.
And what if there is no next time?
Richard hasn’t called since he left for Auckland yesterday. Not that she really expected him to. It’s a relief not having to worry about whether an argument will blow up between her and Richard, between Noah and Richard, or God forbid, Richard and Joe.
Now she’s just got her mother to contend with — her mother, and this business with Noah and Lola.
Perhaps she’s imagining things. Surely the way Lola looks at Noah is merely the gaze of an adoring cousin. And surely the way Noah is always grazing his fingers across Lola’s back as he walks past is mere affection, nothing more.
We’re friends — is that a crime?
At one am, Molly gives up on sleep. After donning yesterday’s underwear and cotton dress, she pads into the hallway and opens the back door. She hears the soft roar of the sea, the intermittent chirping of cicadas.
Molly steps out onto the balcony, the boards cool against her feet. That’s when she sees it — a blur of movement, a figure skipping across the lawn, heading away from Noah’s tent. The head is down, but Molly can pick out the barest of details — the long hair, the slender form that could only belong to her younger niece.
Lola, leaving Noah’s tent. At one o’clock in the morning.
We’re friends — is that a crime?
Of course they could just be talking. They could be. But as Molly watches, she sees another figure appear around the back of the tent, a figure that is unmistakeably her son.
‘Wait,’ he says, his voice soft. Lola turns, and Noah pulls his cousin towards him and kisses her. Molly knows how it feels to be kissed until her breath is gone.
Friends don’t kiss like that. She doesn’t even kiss Richard like that.
Molly opens her mouth to say something, to stop them, but they have already disengaged, are already walking away from one another.
Molly rests her head against the weatherboards, contemplating going to her son, to ask him what he’s doing, to ask what he’s already done. But it’s too late.
Tomorrow, she’ll talk to him tomorrow.
Molly wakes to the smell
of bacon and eggs, Sully’s usual breakfast. Austin is brewing coffee on the stove, using Richard’s prized espresso maker. She can’t believe Richard agreed to relinquish it for a few days.
Don’t forget to give it to Molly when she leaves, Richard had said. Molly hadn’t seen Austin look so happy in days.
‘We need to rustle some of these teenagers out of bed,’ Sully says, brandishing a spatula at her.
‘Good luck to you,’ Molly says. It’s all making perfect sense, Lola and Noah’s increasingly late awakenings. Please, God, if they have had sex then let it have been safe sex.
But Lola’s only fifteen, still a child. Legally, anyway. Oh hell.
Kiri, who is sitting in the lounge holding a gigantic cup of tea, says, ‘Perhaps I should go and get Lola up. Her blood sugars are all over the place with her irregular meal times.’ She frowns. ‘Although I don’t want to wake McKenzie as well.’
‘Ah, she’ll sleep through anything,’ Sully says, as Molly contemplates and dismisses talking to Kiri and Ants first. No, she needs to talk to Joe. If Noah will open up to anyone, it’s him.
‘You’d have done two hours of piano practice by now, Molly,’ their mother says, arriving in the kitchen holding a marrow.
Molly flings open a cupboard and extracts a coffee cup. ‘I never did two hours of practice in the morning. An hour, maybe.’ Her mother’s memories seem to be warping with age.
Joe, strolling in from the hallway, laughs. ‘Watch what you do with that,’ he says, taking the marrow off Hazel.
‘Famous last words,’ Sully says.
Their mother, her lips twitching says, ‘You boys, you never grow up, do you?’
‘Can you include me in your order?’ Molly asks, placing the cup at Austin’s elbow.
‘Sure, no worries.’
‘Lola’s never been prone to such moodiness before,’ Kiri says when Molly sits beside her on the couch. ‘Does Noah get like that?’
Molly nods. ‘Last year was just one big bad mood.’
‘I’m so worried about her diabetes.’ Kiri fiddles with her necklace. ‘The doctors said if we’d brought her in much later, she’d have died. We had no idea how sick she was.’
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