‘Something funny, Mavis?’ She narrows her pale-blue eyes.
‘Oh no, I was just thinkin bout a thing that happened today.’
‘Hmmm. Mavis, why don’t you go and see Doctor Chin at the clinic?’
‘What for!’ I ask me eyes poppin outta me head. She thinks I’m the one whit problems!
‘People don’t usually talk to themselves and laugh at nothing,’ she says, with a look that seems to say: there’s somethin bout here like a rotten fish I be gettin a whif a.
‘Yeah, well, I’ve got work to do, see ya.’ I make out I is cool n all as I cut it back to me front door, but when I hit the kitchen I make a mad dash to the window and look out. She’s still standin on the kero tin and for a buckjumpin second she looks straight at me. I wave to her, tryin to stop meself from wantin to laugh out loud right in front a her.
Instead I close the window. Just nother shitty day.
I shuffle me feet, unsure how to ask Lizzy bout this woman writer called Jean Rhys. Finally I say, ‘Lizzy, ya got any books bout a woman called Jean Rhys?’
Yep, probably no such person ever existed, nah, only in that messed-up head a Nevil’s. Dunno why a woman come here in the first place. Yep, I be lookin womba n all. Best get outta here while the goin’s good. I go back toward the door. Yeah, Nevil made up that name. Ain’t no such person.
‘Mavis, where are you going? I can help you, listen.’ Lizzy smiles as she brings her head up from the computer and looks at me.
‘Orh, I just thought—’ How to say this?
‘I’m here to help you, Mavis, this is a Public Library and anyone’s welcome to use it. You shouldn’t be ashamed of trying to read books.’
Ooorrrhh, gee, ain’t that just somethin, Mavis tryin to read a book. That’s how she looks at me.
‘It weren’t that. I jus don’t—well, anyway, can you help me?’ I look down at me feet, such shames it be, a woman can’t rightly read at any sorta rate.
‘Jean Rhys? Well, that’s an impressive start. Now, fill this card out and I’ll find some books for you.’ She pushes the card across the desk then punches the computer keyboard. ‘Here we go, Wide Sargasso Sea.’ And off she goes and takes it down from the shelf, then hands it over to me.
‘Who is she? I mean, who is Jean Rhys?’ She really exists!
‘Jean Rhys was an extraordinary author. She had, of course, a life of considerable anguish and torment. But read the book and I’ll see if I can find anything about her.’
‘Anguish, torment?’ I feel me neck shiver up. ‘Was she a man that dressed like a woman by any chance?’ I hold the book up in me greasy hands n eyeball the cover.
‘Good grief, no! Whatever gave you that crazy notion?’ Lizzy laughs, pushing her hair from her face.
‘Nothin. I just—Well, I have these mad ideas.’ I breathe slow n deep, feelin like as though I’m wadin in a pool a shit that seems to be rising up to drown me whit all me lies and cover ups. Mavis Dooley, drowned in her own shit. The woman lied til the cows came home. Yep.
‘Here, read it and if you want to know anything at all just ask me, okay? Must say I’m pleased to see you in here, Mavis. All the years I’ve been working here I don’t believe I’ve actually seen you in here once. Now Nevil, well, he’s in here on a daily basis. Matter of fact, he was asking about Jean Rhys too. Must have a fan club over at your house!’ She laughs, then turns her attention to a customer walkin in through the door.
‘Thanks.’ I let the word slip out the side a me mouth. Clutchin the book I go outside onto the main street.
Torment and anguish? Maybe Nev’s got bigger things wrong whit him than a woman thought. Geez, have to get him to Doctor Chin. Yep, can’t have him livin like that. Course, I wonder if he is gay? Funny thing keepin that a secret from me. Ain’t like I gonna push him out. All these years n the boy turns out like this, who’d a thought it...
Lettin me thoughts go I pull in at at the Four Square, deciding to buy meself a packet a Tim Tams and a bottle a Coke. Only thing a woman got really.
‘Mavis, how are you.’ Betty Beaton slaps a smile on her dial n gives it to me.
‘Oh good, Betty. Yaself?’ I show me teeth as I go past her down the dusty aisle.
‘Going to the match?’ She asks, walkin out from behind the counter.
‘The match?’ I look at her in confusion.
‘The footy match. Believe your boy is gonna shake them up. Such a strapping big lad, Nevil. I spoke to George—you know, the new guy that bought Ray McMahon’s pub, and he reckons we’ll have a good chance of taking this one out.’
‘Yeah, I reckon we might.’ I scan the cobwebbed shelves.
‘Bloody good coach, George. Oh, and I almost forgot. My Rodney’s going around to your place later on to have a yarn to Nev about the game. Anyway, how’d Nev go at Bullya?’
‘Oh he did alright. Anyway who told ya he was in Bullya?’ I bring me head up from the biscuit packets n look at her.
‘Heard on the grapevine. What was he studying?’
‘Studyin? Well, um, gee, ain’t that terrible I can’t really remember.’ I look at the cover on the book I’m holdin. ‘That’s it! Literature, that’s what he’s studyin.’ I smile a mile wide. What’s it mean, anyway? What’s Literature, eh? What’s that when it’s at home?
‘Literature? Crikey, he’s smarter than I gave him credit for. Isn’t that when you study books and stuff?’ She gazes at the book in me hand.
‘Somethin like that,’ I reply, pullin down a packet of fly-shit-splattered Tim Tams.
‘So it’s true, Nev’s back?’ She turns as another customer ambles toward the counter.
‘Um, yeah.’
‘Don’t forget to tell him Rodney wants to see him, okay?’ She idles back to the counter.
‘Rightyo.’ I turn and grab a bottle of Coke from the soft drink fridge.
As I head towards the front a the shop I hear Dotty Reedman’s big speakin-out-her-nose voice.
‘Yeah, that’s right, Betty. Mavis and that bloody old bitch Hettie! Cheating they were! I’ll tell you this much, that son of hers is a right criminal. Why, it was only last month he belted into my Jerry. Claimed Jerry called him a coon. If he didn’t act like an absolute arse Jerry wouldn’t have said nothing.’
‘Is that right, Dot?’
‘Yes, Betty, that’s the truth. It’s not like Jerry does these things for the fun of it. I always suspected there was something wrong with that Dooley kid. And listen to this! Missus Warby told me she saw Nevil walking around in the back yard with a woman’s dress on!’
‘That’s a load of bullshit!’ I cry out n let me legs rush forward, me ol heart tremblin. I can’t take it any more. Won’t listen to her gossipin bout me boy.
‘Oh yeah?’ Dotty cocks her plucked-to-nothin eyebrows at me.
‘Missus Warby reckons she saw a horse in the yard last week, so I wouldn’t pay any mind to what she says. Only a simple-minded woman would believe Missus Warby n her gossip.’ I slam the biscuits n Coke on the counter. See now, look what ya done. I’m pissed off now.
‘That’s the reason you drink, is it?’ Dotty throws me a sly smile, like a cat whit a rat in its mouth.
‘Jesus Christ! Spose she done tole ya that too. Or maybe you jus made it all up in that poison little head a yours,’ I let me voice snake over. I be spittin venom soon. Me hands start shakin ready to smack her cross her smug dial.
‘Sorry, Mavis, I certainly didn’t make that one up. The whole town’s talking about it, in case you didn’t know.’ She blinks back at me, then straightens down the hem of a tiny dress.
‘Keep way from me, Dotty. Yer the one in this town spreads all the gossip. Spiteful, that’s what ya is. As for Nevil bashin Jerry, well, good job!’ I split me gob. Hope that hits her hard.
‘You—you—you—black gin!’ she squeals outta her pinkish face, shakin a weak, freckled fist at me.
‘Piss off.’ Me eyes fall into slits, burrin up ready to tackle her on to the floor.
‘Yeah, n I’m so scared.’ I laugh out loud. Deep down me gut crawls.
Betty shakes her blue-tinted head as she opens the cash register, ping, ping. ‘I’ll tell you this, Mavis—be careful. Someone as spiteful as Dotty can do plenty of harm in a little town like this.’
‘Yeah, that a fact. Most fellas here in Mandamooka know what she’s like, eh.’ I look at me biscuits. Only Dotty could mess a woman’s day up. Alla her fuckin bout.
‘Still, I’d be ready for anything with her. Don’t get me wrong, I like Dotty but I know her type.’ Betty flicks her eyes at me then hands over the change.
‘Well, I gotta live here too. I’ll do my best at dodgin her.’ I laugh, but don’t really find anything funny at all.
‘Wouldn’t you think she’d come up with something better than a story about Nevil wearing a dress! Biggest load of crock I ever heard!’ Betty bursts out, her face shading pink as she laughs.
‘Hmm, yeah. Look, Betty, I gotta take off. See ya later.’ I head out the door, the bag a Coke, biscuits and the book feelin like they weigh a ton. Weighin a woman into the ground.
Doctor Chin drums his fingers on the table and watches me with a frown. Finally he says, ‘Marijuana. Longterm use can cause a certain amount of paranoia. Stress can cause a person to react in unpredictable ways. Drinking to excess is another factor. With all these things combined it is possible for Nevil to think that way.’ He pauses. ‘Lastly, if he is gay then there’s nothing you can do. Except maybe talk to him about it. If you’re really concerned then bring him in to see me.’
‘His father—could it have somethin to do whit his father leavin all those years ago?’ I clutch me purse.
‘Missus Dooley, I’m not a psychiatrist. I cannot give you an answer to that question. Maybe you should speak to Nevil about it. Perhaps he does miss his father.’ Doctor Chin nods n rubs the side a his face like he’s deep in thought.
‘I jus dunno any more. Jus dunno what Nevil’s up to.’
‘Mavis, don’t you worry too much, okay? I should check your blood pressure while you’re here,’ he offers, fiddlin whit that doctor thing round his scrawny neck.
‘Not today, Doctor. I’ll see if I can bring Nevil in tamarra.’ I walk back into the waitin room wonderin if alla those things the doctor sayed done gone to Nev’s head. I begin to go out the door when someone calls, ‘Where ya goin, ol girl?’
I turn round. It’s Gwenny Hinch. ‘Hey there. Whatcha doin here at all?’
‘Oh, not much. Jus a bit a stress.’ She looks away from me, her mouth twisted to one side.
‘Yeah, Big Boy playin up, is he?’ I watch the way her eyelashes flutter and the way her hand shakes.
‘Nah, it’s jus stuff that’s all.’ She bites the corner of her mouth.
‘Yeah, well, ya wanna talk bout it?’ I drop me arse down beside her.
‘Nah, not really. It’s jus that. Oh, never mind.’
‘Man problem?’ I squint me peepers at her.
‘Somethin like that,’ she mumbles.
‘Well, love, who ya seein now?’ I sly on at the way her eyes shift all bout the room.
‘No one much. Oh look, Mave, I jus don’t wanna be talkin bout it today. Hey, Nevil in the match or what? Heard Dotty the other day at the pub there sayin stuff bout him. Trust Dot, hey.’
‘Dotty! What that thing be sayin now!’ I gawk into her face, red rage buildin as I pictcha Dotty runnin Nev down to the lowest.
‘Jus that Jerry gonna whop Nevil’s black arse n that if you’re thinkin ya can do anythin bout it then yer flat out wrong. Oh yeah, n that Nev got a dirty secret.’ She halfsmiles.
‘The bitch!’
‘Everybody knows she’s a wanka, Mave. Don’t worry bout the white bitch.’ Gwen takes a hunk a fingernail into her gob.
‘She’s trouble. Don’t ya listen to that one, Gwenny. Lies is all she’s good for. Hates me cos I took the jackpot out at bingo. That woman got a real mean streak bout her, childish like.’ Me gut rock-n-rolls whit rage.
‘Reckoned she was gonna do ya over one a these days. Yep, she hate ya guts, ol girl. Be watchin my step if I was you.’ She points to me feet.
‘Jesus! She never gives up! Well, I’ve gotta be off, love. If you wanna come round some time, ya welcome, okay. Jus not this week. Ya don’t have to be shy whit me, Gwenny. If a woman can help ya out I will n ya know it.’ I leave her whit a smile and step outside into the oven-hot day. I wonder what’s bitin Gwenny? What’s bitin the Reedman bitch? Whit these thoughts, I cut it down the hot bitumen.
FOUR
Sandalboy
The white hatchback crawls down the street, slowin every now and then, the skinnythin wheels crunchin the gravel as it creeps along. Straight out like I knowed this car don’t belong in this town, too good lookin. I sit down on the steps, tea in hand, Tim Tams beside me, and watch as the driver revs the motor and swings the car round to drive down my side a the street. I shade me eyes gainst the sun and watch as it pulls up near the front gate.
A tall, blonde-haired man gets out. Leanin one arm on the car door he calls out, ‘I’m after Nev Dooley, does he live around here anywhere?’
‘Yeah, here.’ I get to me feet. Curiosity drives me toward the gate.
‘Oh, you’re his Mum?’ he asks in a soft voice.
‘Reckon so, n who’re you?’ I read the black print on his neatly ironed, spotless tee-shirt: Foxy Loxy.
‘A friend.’ He smiles, reachin into his jeans pocket and bringin out a packet of menthol cigarettes.
‘A friend, that’s ya name?’ I eye off his girlie face.
‘No, sorry. I’m Trevor Wren Davidson.’ He laughs sorta nervous like, then lights up his cigarette.
‘Oh, where ya from then?’ I look down at his sandal-clad feet. This fella is definitely in wrong territory round here, the sandals done tole me that.
‘The city. Thought I’d come out west and see how Nev’s getting on.’ He drags on his smoke.
‘Yeah, he’s good, out pig-shootin whit his Uncle Booty. Dunno when they sposed to be back.’ I shrug me shoulders. Funny sorta turnout this one.
‘Oh damn! I really wanted to see him. It’s rather important.’ His shoulders hunch down as if it were the worst news in the world, Nevil not bein at home.
‘Had a long drive, eh?’ I watch his face, feelin a little bit sorry for him.
‘Yes, Missus Dooley, you could say that.’ He flicks the cigarette butt across the road.
‘Well, love, wanna come in for a cuppa?’ I flash me pearlies at him.
‘That’d be fabulous.’ He follows me into the house.
‘Pull up a chair.’
‘Thanks. And how has Nevil been?’ he asks, his eyes slidin round the messy room.
Knewed a woman shoulda cleaned it up. Shame peoples gawkin at me filthy kitchen. But orrhh, woman’s been busy, that’s a fact.
‘Pretty good. How’d you know Nev?’ Me suss creepers run up me spine when I notice the way he flicks his hands about. Funny moves.
‘Well, I—I met him at the—oh shoot! I can’t think, but I believe it was when I came out this way last year.’ I seed the way his eyes trackin the room. Like he don’t wanna look at me.
Knowin that he’s pullin a fast one on me I push on. ‘Last year? How come ya didn’t come round then?’ I place the tea in front a him. He got them big brown cow eyes. But they ain’t stupid. A woman can see that all right.
‘Didn’t think it was good manners.’ He takes a sip of tea.
‘Gotta girlfriend?’ I burst out.
‘Oh, well, yes.’ He frowns at me as though like he’s lookin at a lunatic.
‘Sssooo, you like Jean Rhys?’ I play me ace. Gottim, gottim. Bingo!
‘Jean Rhys? Yeah, sure—um, Missus Dooley, are you feeling well? I mean, you look slightly ill.’ He peers at me.
/> ‘Yeah, I’m well. The question is, are you?’ I feel an oily grin crack me face.
‘Why, yes,’ he answers, his eyes on the door like it offers a fast escape.
‘You city fellas have funny ways, doncha? Real queer sorta ways.’ I purse me lips, determined to put an end to all this before Nevil comes back. A wile card. He be that.
‘Sorry, don’t know what you mean.’ He wrinkles his forehead and pushes his teacup cross the table.
‘I think ya do. Why ya wearin women’s sandals!’ I have him! Fer sure there’s only one one answer to that. The right answer in me book. Mavis Dooley ain’t no fool.
‘Missus Dooley, is there a problem?’ His eyes dart round the room.
‘Ain’t never seen no man gettin bout in sandals. Why you wearin em for, eh?’ He looks like a rabbit caught in headlights. Like I gonna skin him up like.
‘You can have them if you like. I mean, I only wear them because my feet sweat in shoes.’ He stands up lookin ready to run out the door as fast as his skinny legs’ll carry him.
‘Do ya love Nevil?’ Me nostrils flare, sweat breaks out on me forehead n me teeth ache. He better!
‘Sure. He’s my best mate,’ Trevor answers, standin up n takin a small step backwards.
‘He’s gotta girlfriend, ya know. Gracie. Beautiful. She loves Nevil. I want her to be me daughter-in-law. Do you know bout that? Cos I ain’t the type a woman ya mess whit, right?’ I snarl, wonderin if he’s the one done started all this Jean Rhys crap. Cos he look womanish. Yep, his deli-cate liddle hands tell me that.
‘Yes, Missus Dooley. Look, I’ve got to go. Can you please tell Nev I’ll be down at the Two Dogs,’ he says, inchin long the kitchen wall.
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