Dastardly Deeds

by Evans, Ilsa

  We both rose, folding our serviettes neatly on our plates, and strolled casually towards the glass folding doors. Then it was a long walk through the buffet area until we reached the foyer. I half expected to meet someone we knew, who would raise a knowing eyebrow as they stopped to chat, but the stairwell was nearly deserted.

  ‘I’ll grab us some wine,’ said Ashley. ‘I’ll meet you there.’

  I nodded, pleased with the suggestion. It would make things less … immediate. We could relax on the balcony with a drink and let things unfold. I hurried to my cabin and, once inside, began cleaning frantically. Petra’s dirty gym clothes were thrust under her bed, the paperwork on the desk pushed into a haphazard pile, the bags of shopping from Istanbul thrust into the wardrobe. I even had time to dash into the bathroom and add some product to my hair to keep it under control. It tended to frizz when enthused.

  The knock on the door was soft. Ashley had a bottle of champagne in one hand and two glasses in the other. He smiled as I stood aside and then went over to the bench to open the bottle. I opened the sliding door and a breeze billowed in, wrapping the sheer curtains straight around my legs. I hopped to one side, plucking them off.

  ‘Here we go,’ said Ashley, passing me a glass. ‘Cheers!’

  I kicked the last piece of curtain from my ankle and lifted my glass. ‘Cheers! Shall we take these outside?’

  ‘Um … how long does the show go for?’

  Rather than answer, I just raised my eyebrows questioningly.

  ‘Okay, excellent idea! Let’s take these outside.’

  He went to move around me, glass in hand, but the wind chose that moment to revitalise the curtain. This time it enfolded us both. I was tempted to break into a rendition of ‘Here Comes the Bride’, but felt the timing probably wasn’t the best.

  Ashley took my glass and turned to place it on the bench while I tried to liberate us. We took a simultaneous step farther into the room, away from the door, and he quickly slid it closed. A section of curtain caught, puckered in the door like an oversized pocket handkerchief. We laughed and then the amusement slid into something more expectant. It trembled, almost tangibly. He took my face gently between his hands and leant forward to kiss me. I had forgotten what a good kisser he was. We stayed like that for a while, gently exploring, remembering, settling back into a rhythm, and then the momentum leapt into urgency.

  Somehow we were on the bed, each fumbling at the buttons of the other’s shirt, punctuating our efforts with impatient kisses. My shirt was now open and his hands were beneath my bra, cupping my breasts. I gave up on his shirt and went straight for the fly of his jeans. I could feel the warmth of his flesh, the ever-so-slight puckering of his waist, the firm immediacy of our desire.

  And that was when the door opened. We froze for one throbbing split second of disbelief, and then I frantically scurried upright. Ashley swore with pain, yanking his hands from my bra. He was holding his hands against his own chest when I pushed him off the bed. Much of the bedclothes went with him as he hit the floor with a thump. I was already trying to do up my buttons, with fingers that wouldn’t quite work.

  Petra strode into the room and came to a sudden halt by the foot of the bed. Her eyes widened and then, almost instantly, she began backing up. ‘Bugger, I left my cardigan in the theatre. Quinn, can you go grab it?’

  ‘By myself?’ asked Quinn from around the corner, her voice high with disbelief. ‘But it’s dark in there!’

  ‘It’ll only take you a minute, and my feet are really sore. I’ll order our hot chocolates while you’re gone.’ She paused, as if Quinn was still unconvinced. ‘Come on. Please?’

  It must have worked because a moment later I heard the door close. Petra returned to lean against the bench. She was smiling.

  ‘Hello,’ I said lamely. ‘I thought you were at the show?’

  ‘Clearly.’ Her eyes slid to the floor between the beds. ‘How’s it going, Ashley?’

  ‘Been better.’ He struggled to a sitting position.

  I was acutely aware of the fact my left breast was squished beneath the band of my bra. The cup puckered emptily above. I hunched my back a little, hoping the errant breast would pop back unaided. It didn’t.

  ‘I hate to be critical at a time like this,’ said Petra conversationally, ‘and far be it from me to cast aspirations on your technique, but, um, that’s my bed.’

  She was right, but I stayed where I was.

  ‘Also, you do realise there’s a do-not-disturb sign inside the wardrobe? You simply take it out and slip it on the doorknob.’ She made a hooking gesture with her hand. ‘The outside works best. I can give you lessons if you like.’

  ‘Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.’

  Her smile widened. ‘I beg to differ.’

  ‘Very funny. Do you think you could give us a minute?’

  ‘I could, but where’s the fun in that?’

  I regarded her evenly. ‘What will it take?’

  ‘A year’s free membership,’ she said immediately. ‘At the new Majic golf course. When I get back from England, of course.’

  ‘Done,’ said Ashley from the floor.

  ‘Before I leave though, in case you’re still interested in the investigation, I got Quinn to ask young Griffin while she was skyping him whether his father bought sunglasses in Istanbul.’

  ‘Really?’ I tried to muster up interest in something other than my left breast.

  ‘Yes. He didn’t. Lyn paid for them.’

  ‘Ah. Fascinating.’

  ‘A side tidbit is that he is not having a good time. His parents are both embarrassing and revolting. And his mother drank Bulgaria dry.’

  This time I didn’t answer, letting my concentrated gaze do the talking for me. She stayed where she was for a moment, beaming from Ashley to me. Finally she left, the door closing firmly behind her. Ashley’s head popped up from beside the bed.

  ‘I think you broke my hand.’

  ‘Hurry up.’ I scrambled from the bed. The fly of my pants was open. I didn’t even remember that happening. ‘Quinn will be back soon.’

  ‘Raincheck?’

  I looked at him in disbelief. His grin was nearly as wide as Petra’s had been. ‘Certainly not. Maybe. Ask me tomorrow.’

  ‘Well then—’ he rose, pulling the bedclothes from the floor and tossing them onto the bed ‘—I might hobble down to my room and have a cold shower.’

  I smiled, trying to muster some sympathy, but it was submerged beneath concern that Quinn might return before he left.

  ‘Let’s think of it as entrée.’ He leant over to kiss me. ‘Main course to come.’

  ‘And what’s for dessert then?’

  He laughed. ‘Seconds?’

  ‘Sounds good.’ As soon as he left, I tugged my bra back into alignment. My left breast felt like an indented pancake. I finished doing up my buttons and then straightened Petra’s bed roughly. She came back as I was smoothing the covers.

  ‘Don’t say anything,’ I said quickly and, I suspected, in vain. I was right.

  Chapter 17

  Could you please include some recipes in your column? But not those new fandangly ones with macro-organic-paleo shite. Traditional ones, like macaroni pudding and rhubarb custard. You look like the right age group to remember those.

  Apparently Zeus didn’t have a problem with family members popping in unannounced. No, he flitted around the ancient world spreading his seed willy-nilly and rarely stuck around to face the consequences. One of the stories we were told, atop the rocky outcrop of the Acropolis, had him engaging in enthusiastic extramarital sex with his cousin Metis. This was despite having been previously warned that any child of theirs might grow more powerful than him. Once blood began to return to his brain, he recalled the prophecy and promptly decided that the best remedy was to turn Metis into a fly and then swallow her whole. Which no doubt came as quite a shock to her. Plus, having a swallowed a fly myself once, I can’t say I’d recommend it.
r />   Unfortunately, Metis had already conceived. One could only imagine how uncomfortable it was for her, given she was still a fly, particularly during the third trimester. I rather hoped she gave Zeus gas. She must have been a little bored as she almost immediately began making a helmet for her daughter-to-come. Legend does not record what she used for materials but the subsequent hammering gave Zeus a killer headache. With Panadol being in short supply, he opted to have his forehead cleaved in twain by a double-headed axe. As you do. His daughter Athena leapt forth fully developed and fully armed. Legend does not record what happened to poor Metis.

  Athena became the goddess of wisdom, courage, inspiration, civilisation, law, justice, mathematics, strength, war strategy, and the arts and crafts. She was named the patron goddess of heroic endeavour and, at some stage, found time to invent the chariot. This was probably a welcome innovation, since Greek sandals didn’t look terribly user-friendly. She was also a virgin, which may have explained why she had so much spare time.

  Her temple was an elegant affair, tucked around the side of the more famous Parthenon. I was fascinated by her, and not just because she took multi-tasking to a whole new level. She was elegant and majestic, with a piercing gaze that was evident even in marble statues. I had already decided to buy a memento of her for my study at home. I was going to use it for inspiration. If she could juggle all those roles and still find time for casual invention, then surely I could manage my single task of churning out one column per week. Athena declared goddess of multi-tasking. Women everywhere pay tribute by doing several things at once.

  Our guide today was a woman named Angela. She had a flowing mane of yellow-blonde hair and a gorgeous medallion that she had apparently received simply for graduating from university. All I’d got was a certificate. She was brisker than either Ali had been, and a stickler for punctuality. Athens was shaping up as my favourite place thus far, crowned by the Acropolis and given flavour by the museums and the street markets and the sheer affability of the citizens. They might be in the middle of a financial crisis, but their spirit seemed undaunted.

  Wandering around the Acropolis was a dangerous affair, not just because of the crowds but also the slabs of slippery stone. We had been given strict instructions to spend one hour, no more, and then make our way down the hillside to a meeting place by the road. Ruby, Quinn and I were early, mainly because all three of us were a little scared of Angela. I could see Lew over by the bus, chatting to the driver. The girls headed to a street stall selling souvenirs and costume jewellery as I collapsed tiredly onto a bench beside Enid. She had elected not to climb the rise to the Acropolis. Both her hands were planted on her cane and she was leaning forward with her head resting on them. She was also snoring damply.

  ‘Can I join you?’

  I looked up at Tessa with surprise. ‘Ah, okay. It’s a free world.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  An uncomfortable silence settled. I glanced over towards the stall.

  ‘Are you enjoying yourself?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Me too. I’m feeling a bit better today.’

  I glanced across. She didn’t look better. Her foundation shone patchily against her pale skin and her face looked puffy. I dropped my gaze for a moment. Her shirt puckered awkwardly, even for her, across her chest. ‘You’re pregnant.’

  ‘What?’ She stared at me, her eyes huge, and then suddenly covered her face with her hands. Her voice emerged moistly. ‘Yes. Oh, god.’

  ‘Interesting.’

  ‘No, it’s not! It’s awful!’

  I tended to agree. My stomach felt like it had been hollowed out with a soup spoon. I glanced back towards the street stall. Ruby mouthed something at me that looked like ‘what the fuck?’. I frowned at the obscenity, and also because it was the only facial expression I was capable of.

  ‘What am I going to do?’ wailed Tessa, her head still in her hands. ‘How am I going to tell him? Oh, god.’

  I busied myself smoothing my pants. I just wanted her to go away. Some tourists stopped nearby, talking loudly. We drew a few curious glances before they moved off.

  Tess finally lowered her hands. Her face was even puffier, with damp rivulets tracking down her cheeks. ‘Darcy is going to kill me.’

  ‘Unlikely. He knows he wouldn’t do well in prison.’

  ‘No, I mean it.’ She turned to face me. She really wasn’t looking her best. ‘He didn’t even want Sophie, you know. Sure, he loves her to bits now, but when we found out I was pregnant, he was not happy. At all.’

  ‘Tough.’

  Enid snorted softly. I glanced at her but she still appeared to be asleep.

  ‘Another baby would be awful,’ continued Tessa tearfully. ‘Sophie is more than I can handle! I’m forty-two years old!’

  ‘Which isn’t exactly decrepit.’ I frowned at her. ‘And besides, stop acting like this is something you’ve done to Darcy. I assume he played an active role. Let him help handle things.’

  She grabbed at my arm. ‘But I’m not like you, Nell. Five babies! I don’t know how you did it!’

  ‘The same way you did.’ I looked down at her hand with distaste. ‘And, coincidentally, with the same person.’

  ‘What’s going on?’ asked Darcy tersely, looming over us. Tessa snatched her hand back but he wasn’t even looking at her. ‘What’ve you said to her?’

  ‘Dickhead,’ said Enid clearly.

  I stood slowly, letting my gaze linger as I looked from Darcy to Tessa. The effect was somewhat spoilt by one of my knees creaking loudly. Then I walked away towards my daughters. Yen and Uncle Jim had joined them. Yen was glancing at her watch.

  ‘Heaps of time,’ said Uncle Jim soothingly. He was referring to the fact we were parting ways after we left the Acropolis. Their flight was leaving at six.

  ‘Thank you, I am well aware of that,’ replied Yen. She turned to me. ‘What was that about over there? What did you say to upset her?’

  ‘Why does everyone assume it was me?’

  ‘Logic. Mind you, I’m not complaining. If the girl is stupid enough to sit next to the ex-wife of the man she philandered with, then she deserves whatever she gets. And I don’t like your hat.’

  ‘I do,’ said Uncle Jim loyally. ‘Reminds me of my mother.’

  ‘Excellent.’ I made a mental note to throw the hat away.

  Yen ignored the exchange. ‘Have you heard from Lucy? I emailed her last night about making arrangements to pick us up and she hasn’t replied.’

  ‘We’re eight hours behind,’ said Ruby. ‘She may not have had a chance.’

  ‘Pfft.’

  I glanced towards the bench where Darcy was now sitting beside Tessa with his arm around her. Enid appeared to have gone back to sleep. I wondered if I should give my girls a heads-up. They were going to have a new sibling. For Scarlet and Lucy, this would mean a sibling younger than their own children. My throat felt coated with bile.

  ‘Hey there!’ Deb appeared by my elbow, beaming. Behind her stood Scott, Donald and Phoebe. The latter two did not look as pleased.

  We greeted them, with subsequent queries ascertaining that they were about to head up to the Acropolis but were just waiting for their tour guide to finish arranging things with the driver. Deb waved at her husband.

  ‘So, what’s the verdict?’ asked Scott. His belly was straining against his T-shirt. The limitless food and drink were clearly having an effect.

  ‘Amazing,’ I replied. ‘Absolutely amazing.’

  Ruby held up her camera. ‘I’ve taken about a thousand photos.’

  ‘How about you, Mrs Forrest?’ Scott turned to Yen politely.

  ‘I took two. But they were very good. We’re going to sit in the bus.’

  ‘Oh, I wanted to say goodbye,’ said Deb hurriedly. ‘Have a great flight!’

  ‘We will.’ Yen moved briskly away. Uncle Jim nodded to us and then followed her towards the car park.

  ‘Something I said?’ asked Scott.

  I
shook my head. ‘Not at all. That was her being friendly.’

  Ruby snorted. She wandered away to take photos of the stream of tourists making their way up and down the hillside. I didn’t see the appeal of these for posterity, but then I didn’t tend to take photos at all. I preferred to let others do all the work and then just chose some to copy.

  ‘We’ve come from the museum over there.’ Deb pointed farther down the hill. ‘It puts Melbourne to shame, doesn’t it? The statues are older than our city!’

  ‘And such a spiritual experience.’ Phoebe brightened. ‘You could sense the history. When our guide was telling us about the Persian invasion, I could almost hear it.’ She closed her eyes, as if listening to faint screams over again.

  ‘All I could hear were the schoolkids,’ said Donald ruefully.

  Phoebe opened her eyes to shoot him a glance. ‘But you did enjoy the Lego, didn’t you?’ She turned to me, flicking her plait over her shoulder. ‘They had the Parthenon there, made completely of Lego. Don likes Lego.’

  ‘So I’ve heard.’

  ‘Mum wrote a column about Lego once,’ offered Quinn. ‘Like, it was just because the girl Lego was so girly. We hated it. And all these nutters got offended. You should have seen the letters she got!’

  Donald stared at her and then slowly rubbed the back of his neck.

  ‘Bizarre,’ said Scott, grinning at his friend.

  ‘Yeah.’ Donald shrugged, and then suddenly laughed. It sounded rusty. He cleared his throat before looking at me appraisingly. I got the sense I had just returned to his radar. ‘I like your hat.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Is this a secret meeting?’ asked Ashley, coming up behind Deb. He pinched her either side of the waist in the manner that men seemed to find vastly amusing and women hated. She yelped.

  ‘Women hate that,’ commented Nick, going up several points in my estimation.

  ‘Nah, they just say that,’ said Scott. ‘They really love it. Don’t you, girls?’

  ‘No.’ Deb was still rubbing her sides. ‘And we also don’t like being called girls.’

  Scott lifted his sunglasses to give her the full weight of his disbelief. He followed this with a paternalistic chuckle. Even Quinn was now looking at him with distaste.