Shift

by Em Bailey

  ‘Sounds like it was a great date,’ I said.

  ‘It’s still a great date! We’ve been up all night and we’re going to hang out today.’ She smirked at me. ‘Jealous much?’

  ‘That’s why you’re not in your uniform,’ I said. ‘I’m not sure how you’re going to get away with skipping two days of school in a row though. What do you want me to tell Mrs Deane if she asks?’

  Miranda was frowning at me. ‘I asked you a question. Are you jealous of me?’

  I laughed. ‘Of course I am! Who wouldn’t be?’

  Miranda smiled, satisfied. ‘I’ve gotta go. Dallas is waiting.’ She turned to go, but then stopped. ‘Hey, are you free tonight?’

  I wasn’t. Once a month Mum drove interstate to pick up supplies. She usually left one evening and came back late the following night. ‘I have to look after Toby.’

  Miranda wrinkled her nose. ‘What a shame,’ she said. ‘We’re going to see Elliot again tonight. It’s the last gig – I thought you’d like to come.’

  ‘Really?’ I said. ‘You think Dallas could get me in?’

  ‘We already have your ticket,’ said Miranda.

  I sighed deeply. ‘I wish I could.’

  Miranda nodded sympathetically. ‘Well, at least you’ll earn some money, I guess,’ she said.

  ‘I don’t get paid for babysitting Toby,’ I said, laughing.

  Miranda’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Wow,’ she said. ‘No offence, but it sounds like your mum is taking advantage of you.’

  ‘It’s no big deal,’ I said. But Miranda had a point. I was doing Mum a pretty huge favour. And I did mind Toby a lot.

  Miranda shrugged. ‘Look, it’d be cool if you came. If you change your mind – or if your mum realises that she’s asking too much – Dallas is picking me up at Oona’s around nine.’

  I felt grouchy and restless for the rest of the day, unable even to pretend that I was concentrating on school. The grouchiness only increased when I got home. Dinner was spinach and quinoa lasagne. It’d be nice if we got some meat occasionally, I thought grumpily, pushing my food around. Just because she’s vegetarian, why should we have to be?

  Mum gave me a concerned look. ‘You don’t seem a hundred per cent,’ she said, that familiar look of worry on her face. ‘Maybe I should cancel the trip.’

  ‘Don’t be crazy,’ I said in a monotone. I wasn’t in the mood to mollycoddle her tonight. ‘You go.’

  I thought that after she’d left, I’d accept that I’d missed out on the gig. But the irritation just grew. I bustled Toby off to bed way earlier than usual and then stomped off to my room, planning to do some homework and drown my sorrows by listening to music.

  But my mind refused to think about French grammar and the music just made me more stir-crazy than ever.

  Then a thought appeared from nowhere. Why not just go to the gig? Toby’s asleep. He’ll be fine. Once the idea had wormed its way into my head I couldn’t seem to lose it. It grew stronger. Why should you always miss out? You deserve some fun.

  I crept to Toby’s room and peeked in. He looked so totally out of it that I felt sure he wouldn’t stir until morning. I checked the time on my phone. Ten to nine. I’d have to hurry if I was going to make it to Miranda’s place on time.

  Maybe it was the excitement that made me ride up the hill so fast that night. Or maybe it was guilt. Whatever the reason, I was pressing the buzzer outside Oona’s front gate just a few minutes after nine. Nothing happened. The massive security gates didn’t budge and the front door didn’t open.

  The disappointment sat like a rock in my stomach. They’ve gone already.

  Olive the Loser, missing out yet again. I was turning to head home when the front door swung open and the security lights flicked on, flooding the yard with an almost blinding light. Someone came trotting across the front yard towards me. Not Miranda, though. Oona. I froze, unsure what to do.

  At the gate she stopped and peered at me – eyes shiny and dark as a bird’s. ‘Are you the new one?’ she said. ‘Miranda’s latest friend?’

  ‘Hello, Miss Delaunay,’ I said, a little taken aback. ‘It’s Olive Corbett.’

  Oona showed no sign of recognising me – either from the time I’d given her my umbrella or the countless occasions when I’d stood at her gates while Mum handed her vitamin pills through the bars. I wished I’d called Miranda’s phone instead of ringing the buzzer. It didn’t look like Oona was planning to let me in.

  ‘Is – is Miranda around?’

  Oona’s eyes darted around. ‘Luckily she’s still inside,’ she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. ‘I must talk to you. Quickly.’

  ‘Is it about your vitamin order?’ I said. ‘Mum’s picking up some new supplies tomorrow. If you call her –’

  ‘It’s not about vitamins,’ Oona snapped at me. ‘It’s about Miranda. I’m very concerned. She’s in danger of – ’

  ‘Miranda’s OK, Miss Delaunay,’ I interrupted, trying to sound reassuring. ‘You don’t need to be so … protective of her.’ Like trying to breathe with a pillow over your face. That’s how Miranda had described life with Oona.

  ‘You’ve misunderstood me,’ said Oona tersely. ‘Miranda is in danger of hurting others. I’m trying to protect people from her. You in particular.’

  I stopped short and Oona smiled thinly.

  ‘You’re paying attention at last. I can see that you’re strong, which is good. But you are certainly still at risk.’ Her fingers gripped the bars of the gate and her voice dropped until it was almost impossible to hear at all. ‘I should’ve taken her on earlier of course,’ she muttered. Was she talking to me or herself? ‘Things might have been easier if I had. She’s so damaged now, and so stubborn. She ignores all my advice. Won’t wear gloves. Continues to befriend people even though I forbade it.’

  When Oona looked to me again her eyes were clear and she suddenly didn’t look mad at all. ‘Go home, Olive,’ she commanded. ‘Do you understand me? You must go immediately. Stay away from her. Keep everything you love away from her too. If you knew – if you saw what she did at that last place.’ Oona looked stricken then, like she was remembering something awful. ‘That poor, poor boy,’ she whispered.

  I gaped at her, not quite knowing what to do.

  Oona was watching me. ‘You don’t believe me, do you?’ she sighed. ‘Of course not. I know what you all call me. I might be loony but I’m not deaf.’

  There was a mechanical click then, and the gate began to swing open. A figure emerged through the glare of the security lights, storming towards us. ‘Oona,’ snarled Miranda. ‘What are you doing?’

  Oona’s scrawny arm reached through the bars as the gate began to push her back. Her fingers clawed at me. ‘Don’t let her cut you off from your friends and family,’ she whispered. ‘It’s very important.’

  Miranda loomed up behind Oona. ‘Let go of her.’

  Oona’s fingers dropped from my arm. Then she fled back into the house. I stood still as Miranda stepped through the gap in the gate, seething. ‘She’s got no right to interfere,’ she stormed. ‘What does she know? Nothing.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ I said, laughing nervously. ‘I didn’t take it seriously. It was funny.’ I was trying to calm Miranda down of course, but I also didn’t want to admit to myself just how unnerved Oona had left me.

  There was a sudden rumble of an engine and a car pulled into the driveway, stopping right where we were standing. The anger lifted from Miranda’s face immediately. ‘Dallas!’

  I felt hugely relieved too when I saw his friendly face through the windscreen.

  Dallas rolled down the driver’s seat window and poked his head through. ‘Hi!’ he said cheerfully. ‘Climb aboard. I’ve got some killer tunes to play along the way. And I’ve got a surprise for you too.’

  Miranda skipped around to sit in front with Dallas. I opened the back door and almost climbed into someone’s lap. Lachlan’s.

  Miranda took one look at him and glared at
Dallas. ‘Why is he here?’

  ‘Surprise!’ said Dallas, oblivious to Miranda’s anger. ‘I invited him, although I think he only came to keep an eye on me. It’s that lifesaver instinct coming out.’

  Lachlan laughed. ‘I’m off-duty tonight,’ he said. ‘You can look after yourself, Dal.’

  He shuffled over then, giving me room to get in. The car had a dry, sweetish smell, like hay, and the cracked vinyl seats snagged on my clothes as I slid into the car. I groped around for the seatbelt.

  ‘No seatbelt, sorry,’ said Lachlan. ‘Better hang on. Dallas drives like a fiend.’

  Sure enough, as we swung around a bend I found myself sliding across the seat until I was pressed against Lachlan. ‘Sorry,’ I said, moving back to my side as fast as I could.

  ‘No problem,’ said Lachlan softly.

  ‘Hey, little Ol,’ called Dallas from the front. ‘Do you know this band?’

  ‘The Ben-Day Dots,’ I said, listening. ‘First album.’

  Dallas chuckled. ‘How does a kid like you know about The Ben-Day Dots?’

  ‘Well, because of Magenta Men,’ I said. ‘I read this interview where they mentioned –’

  ‘Hey, Dal,’ said Miranda suddenly. ‘Did I tell you that story about the secret Boxers gig I saw in Paris?’

  ‘You saw the Boxers?’ said Dallas, turning back to her.

  Instantly I was forgotten. And with no other distractions – except to hang on as we screeched around corners – I found myself wondering over and over what Lachlan Ford was doing there. I tried to feed myself the obvious answers. He’s here to spend time with his brother. It’s nothing to do with you. But my mind kept shooting off in sideways directions, imagining what would happen if I let my fingers slip out of the door handle so that I’d slide over and crash into him again. And if instead of apologising and moving away, I stayed where I was. Would he put his arm around me? Would he pull me closer?

  By the time we pulled up outside the Vault, my nerves were jangling like wind chimes. I stumbled getting out of the car and almost landed in the gutter.

  Miranda pulled me up, laughing. ‘What’s wrong with you, wonk-brain?’ she said.

  ‘Car sick,’ I mumbled, and began walking over to join the end of the queue outside the Vault.

  ‘What are you doing?’ asked Miranda. ‘We’re guests of the band.’ As the bouncer waved us through, she whispered in my ear, ‘You’ll be treated like a nobody if you act like one.’

  The Vault was already pretty full and people were crowding into the main bar. ‘Let’s go in,’ said Dallas. ‘Wrangle our way up the front.’

  ‘We’re going to the toilets first,’ said Miranda, grabbing my hand.

  ‘Don’t be long,’ called Dallas.

  In the brightly lit bathroom, I noticed something different about Miranda. ‘You’ve had a haircut.’

  Miranda ran her fingers lightly across her fringe. ‘I did it myself. It’s a bit zig-zaggy, like yours. Do you like it?’

  I nodded, and then saw the top she was wearing. ‘Hang on, isn’t that mine?’

  ‘Well yeah,’ laughed Miranda. ‘You lent it to me.’

  ‘I didn’t lend you that one,’ I said.

  Miranda inspected herself in the mirror. ‘Does it matter? We’re friends, right?’ Then she sighed. ‘God. I look like such a wreck. I’ve had no sleep at all.’

  ‘You look amazing, Miranda,’ I said. And it was true. I would never be able to wear that top again now I’d seen how good it looked on her.

  ‘That’s because I’m in love,’ said Miranda, stretching her arms up above her head. ‘Love, love, love.’ The dreamy look on her face worried me.

  ‘Um … Miranda?’ I said. ‘You do know that Dallas won’t be staying in Jubilee Park forever, don’t you? Maybe you should – you know – try not to get in too deep too quickly.’

  Miranda threw me a pitying look. ‘You’re so jealous.’

  ‘It’s not that,’ I said, feeling annoyed. ‘I just think you should be careful. Protect yourself. Otherwise your heart will be broken when he goes.’

  Miranda shook her head. ‘He’s not going anywhere,’ she said. ‘I’m going to make him stay.’ She opened her bag and took out a lipstick.

  ‘You’re joking, right?’ I said. ‘He can’t stay here.’

  ‘Why not?’ said Miranda, her mouth the shape of a kiss as she leant forward to colour it in. ‘There’s a studio near us he can hire out by the hour. Dallas has a bunch of new songs he can record there. I know some industry people. Once they hear the new songs, they’ll be fighting over who gets to sign Luxe up.’

  Miranda seemed so confident. Like she could actually make these things happen. She clicked the lipstick closed and smiled at me, her lips slick. ‘Ready?’

  I swallowed, trying to squash down the uneasiness. ‘Sure.’

  Dallas beamed at Miranda when we returned. He and Lachlan were standing together. Miranda went straight up to Dallas and wrapped her arms tightly around him. I stared at the space beside Lachlan, heart quickening. I could just walk up beside him, über casual. Like it was no big deal. Stand next to him for the entire gig – the warmth of his arm near mine in the dark, our fingers almost touching.

  ‘Olive!’ Miranda said impatiently. ‘What are you doing standing over there?’ She pulled me over, away from Lachlan. I glanced at him – I don’t know why. Maybe I was hoping he’d say or do something to intervene. But he didn’t. Admit it, Olive, I told myself. He’s over you.

  As the band came on stage, Miranda flung one arm around me and the other around Dallas, pulling us in tightly towards her and away from Lachlan, who was left standing on his own. ‘I am so glad we’ve found each other,’ she said. ‘The three of us are going to have so much fun together. I can just feel it.’

  That night was the start of it, I guess – that crazy, weird, scary time. It began fairly slowly – every few nights I’d wait until Mum and Toby had gone to bed and then I’d sneak out my window to find a taxi or Dallas’s car waiting around the corner. I’d climb in and we’d head off. Me, Dallas and Miranda, ready for anything.

  Dallas always seemed pleased to see me and never made me feel like I was in the way. In the early days he and I would chat a lot – about music mostly – but as the weeks passed our conversations became shorter and shorter. Although she never actually said anything, it was clear Miranda didn’t like it when Dallas and I talked too much to each other. We became like ‘dive buddies’ then, me and Dallas. Not speaking, but waving occasionally, or giving each other the thumbs-up. We each had our roles – I was Best Friend, Dallas was Boyfriend – and we were both working towards the same thing: keeping Miranda happy.

  In the beginning, we’d just go to one place per night – always in town – specifically to see gigs. But soon we started going to more and more places each night, every night, and we seemed to travel for longer distances each time. The venues changed, but certain things about those nights were always the same. I’d lend Miranda clothes, which she’d change into in the car and forget to return. Door men, ticket girls and bouncers waved us through unquestioningly – sometimes, it seemed, unseeingly. Bar staff handed over drinks, which we never seemed to pay for, and although I only drank soft drinks I often felt dizzy, stumbling and tripping over nothing.

  Miranda’s energy was endless. ‘Come on!’ she’d say, sometimes only minutes after arriving somewhere. ‘It’s dead here.’ Dead, dead, dead.

  At first I felt like a little kid on a massive sugar high at a fun park. I wanted it to go on forever. But after a few months I started to droop. Sometimes, as we sped from one venue to the next I would nod off in the taxi.

  Miranda always shook me awake. ‘Don’t sleep,’ she’d say. ‘You’ll miss out.’ But she never explained exactly what I was missing out on.

  By the time I arrived home I would be shattered, but sleep was hard to get. There were mornings when I crawled in through my window moments before Mum called me for breakfast.

  D
uring the day I felt like a zombie, struggling through my classes, constantly fighting fatigue. Sometimes I’d get the feeling in class that Lachlan was looking over at me. But I felt too tired to think about what this meant. Besides, I didn’t want Miranda to catch me looking at him.

  I limped through my evenings at the Mercury or, when I just couldn’t face working, I’d call in sick and tell Mum my shift had been cancelled. But the moment I climbed into Dallas’s car or the taxi again, I’d have a sudden, sharp surge of energy that would keep me going – for a little while at least.

  Sometimes we went to parties that Miranda claimed she’d been invited to, and often people did come up and greet her warmly. But they almost always called her by the wrong name. I didn’t like the party nights much. Miranda and Dallas would disappear off into some dark corner together and I would be left, awkwardly alone in a room full of strangers acting like maniacs. When Dallas and Miranda returned their eyes would look different and they’d giggle together about private jokes as if I wasn’t there at all.

  It was at these parties that I most often found myself thinking about Lachlan. I’d even fantasise about him turning up out of the blue – walking in and giving me the hugest, goofiest grin. Hey, Olive! You’re here too. Sometimes while I was doing this, I’d spot someone through the crowd that looked like him. But then he’d be gone. Lachlan hadn’t been out with us since that first time, and I knew Miranda had made it clear to Dallas that his brother wasn’t welcome.

  One night at a party I sat alone on a saggy couch. The urge to sleep was overwhelming – and even though I knew I’d be in big trouble if Miranda caught me, I started to nod off. I was almost asleep when I felt the couch sink a little further. Someone had sat down beside me. This sometimes happened – a stranger would take pity on me sitting alone or even try to chat me up. But this time my sleep-dazed eyes tricked me into thinking that it was Lachlan sitting there.