She turned pleading eyes on me. ‘D’you think you could hold with it for just this once? Make an exception? If I take a plastic bag and catch absolutely every single crumb?’
I relented, just for this once. Half the sandwiches had already been demolished, and the old chariot is not spick-and-span, not by a long chalk. I’d probably been thinking of my parents’ car, which was scrubbed inside and out by my father before church every Sunday. You could have eaten crumbs off the floor without a qualm.
The Harmonica street turns out to be in a town about twenty minutes away. We don’t have seriously rough districts up here, but there are postcodes with a predominance of transients, backpackers and rehab centres. I switched on the crackly car radio while Kim tore through the jam sandwich. I found what I thought might be acceptable to both of us, one of Bach’s Brandenburg concertos. It was wholly serendipitous, but the Brandenburgs happened to be the first pieces of classical music I recall responding to as a child.
‘That’s kind of nice,’ she said. I told her a little about it. Then I brought up the subject of Frank’s movie, very casually. She’d seen it, I imagined?
Sort of, some of it. Well, not all the way through. She was looking away from me, out of the window.
‘I haven’t seen it all the way through either,’ I said. ‘Which bits have you seen, then?’ I thought I had posed this in a negligent manner, but I was aware of a subtle shift in her attitude.
‘Oh, just some fighting and stuff.’
I saw some of that too, I said. Did she happen to see the scene on the platform, up on the skyscraper? Rather remarkable, wasn’t it?
This lured her into a burst of unguarded enthusiasm. Oh yeah, it was unbelievable, wasn’t it? Beyond scary. Couldn’t imagine how they’d filmed it. She thought Frank’s music for that bit was really incredible as well. I wondered what she’d thought of the full-frontal nudity.
Did he show it to her with the music attached? Yes, he did, actually. He wanted to get her verdict. She thought the sounds of the triangle and the tambourine on top of the percussion added to the weirdness of the whole atmosphere. Like, it added a fourth dimension. How about the way the thumping beat kept time with the swaying of the platform? How clever was that?
I said I wasn’t sure I’d seen it with the right music, although his music in general was hard to ignore. I particularly enjoyed the harp melody that accompanied one long section.
Had she seen that part, by any chance? The bonfire, wasn’t it?
Oh yeah, the bonfire. The harp was so cool. She loved that beautiful, sort of sweet, lilting tune. It was sad, and somehow innocent.
Innocent was a good choice of word, I agreed. It was the fact that the tune was so different from what was going on in the scene that made it so effective, wasn’t it? Energetic nods. That was called counterpoint, I said. You could hear the same principle going on in music. I pointed out a passage in the concerto now playing. She listened attentively. With a newfound appreciation, I think.
‘So, what other bits of Frank’s movie did you see?’ I asked.
Not much else, she said, fiddling with her seatbelt. Can’t remember, really. Just a chase or something. You know.
I refrained from flogging what was probably a dead horse. We were nearly on the Harmonica doorstep. I had obtained most of the information I wanted, although it was not what I wanted to hear.
Kim knew who Monica was: the nice woman who worked with Mr Fay, the pretty one with blonde, curly hair. I let this pass. The nice pretty woman turned out to live in one of those single-storey suburban houses made of liver-coloured brick. Didn’t surprise me. I have never known a house or indeed any building constructed out of that material to have anything to recommend it. They are eyesores disfiguring towns and landscape, and specially incongruous out here. At least some attempt had been made to hide the ugliness by training roses and wisteria over the front of the house.
Kim told me she was taking deep, slow, relaxing breaths. As we drew up she said, ‘Thea.’
‘Yes?’
‘I’m becoming weak with anticipation. At the knees. Might have to be carried out of the chariot. Supposing it doesn’t –’ She ground to a halt. I waited. ‘Supposing it doesn’t like me. Or supposing it was stolen from someone else. It might have to go back. Or –’
‘It will like you because puppies always do. It’s possible it was stolen but unlikely because it hasn’t been reported missing. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,’ I said.
There was, predictably, one of those awful fifties ding-dong door bells. The silence was short-lived, immediately supplanted by shrill and frenzied barking. La Harmonica materialised in an unflattering tracksuit, with a rabid poodle under each arm. Before putting them down she issued a warning: on no account should we try to interact with them or pay them any attention at all.
‘They’re besotted with me, you see, to the exclusion of anyone else, and I’m afraid Roxy will bite. She broke the skin on Sandy’s shin once.’ A winsome smile directed at me, to which I did not respond. ‘They go into attack mode. They think they are protecting me against marauders.’
An unnecessary warning in my case, as I had not the slightest desire to interact with Sandy’s nemesis, but Kim was challenged and enchanted. Before Monica or I could stop her she had bent down with hand outstretched. She shrieked and snatched it away from the snarling jaws in the nick of time, as one of the poodles launched into attack mode at breathtaking speed.
‘See what I mean, Kim, dear?’ was her owner’s feeble response. ‘If you ignore them they’ll be fine. Roxy may not have any teeth left, but she can still inflict quite a painful injury. Rupert is a different kettle of fish. He’s all bark and no bite.’
Kim had a fit of the giggles. The close encounter with Roxy’s toothless jaws had disarmed her. Then her face fell a mile as we were taken into the lounge room and offered tea and scones set out on an old-fashioned trolley – dainty cups and saucers, doilies and all. She gave me an eloquent glance.
How kind, Monica, but we’ve already had afternoon tea, I said firmly. The room was crammed with photos of the Harmonica progeny of varying ages. She must have raised a menagerie, I said. Near enough – five, she said apologetically. Invariably, it is those who should reproduce themselves least who show no restraint. The most unpleasant children always had a tribe of equally dreadful siblings.
Harmonica said she would wheel out the puppy in a minute, as soon as she had shut the poodles safely in another room. They were very jealous of the poor baby. Not at all nice to it. She couldn’t have all three in the same room or there’d be blood on the carpet – it was the main reason the baby had to go. I told her it was not at all surprising they were jealous. They felt marginalised by the newcomer. I wished Sandy had been there to hear this. Why should humans be any different from dogs, where a new baby is concerned?
The puppy had been found in the street. It wasn’t the first time they had picked up a stray. ‘We’ve had some problems round here with drunks and druggies and hoons,’ Harmonica proclaimed, as if this was some kind of achievement. ‘Probably unconnected, but dumping does go on.’ Mainly unwanted dogs and kittens, but last year a lame pony was left in their neighbour’s front yard and had to be put down.
Kim looked distressed. Fortunately this never happens in our area. We’re too far off the beaten track. Thanks be to our fantasy father for my foresight in buying up all that cheap land, so many years ago.
It goes without saying that baby animals of all sorts are charming – with the sole exception of the human product, I’ve always thought, which is not charming and irritates with its demanding helplessness. One assumes this cannot be a widespread view or the species would have died out instead of being a virus on the face of the earth. But puppies are especially endearing, and this one was no exception. I knew Kim was hopelessly in thrall the moment she saw it rush into the room at the end of a cheap plastic lead.
It was a little larger than Teddy had been, and far more lively
than he was when I first saw him. The characteristic blue heeler coat was dominant, but there was evidence of another mystery antecedent in the muzzle, body shape and longer than usual tail. It raced around to inspect each of us in turn, long tail wagging – like a windmill, Kim exclaimed, before scooping it up with an inarticulate cry of delight. A second later she was being licked all over.
La Harmonica was relatively sane, I’ll give her that. Deterred Kim from going straight to the pet shop. Better wait a couple more days before buying anything except food, in case any claimants came forward. If any claimants were emboldened to come forward I would personally disembowel them, I vowed privately.
In the car on the way back Kim’s mobile rang. She had to struggle to retrieve it while hanging on to the wriggling puppy on her lap. Teddy had been much calmer. He lay quietly on a towel on the passenger seat, I remember, all the way home. He was still shell-shocked after his ordeal.
The call was from Frank in the city. He was going to be late, I gathered from Kim’s end of the quick-fire exchange. Then I revised this: he wouldn’t make it back tonight. She’d be okay, wouldn’t she? Kim’s response involved me but was cut short.
She listened as he said something else and gave a muted ‘really?’ followed by an ‘awesome’. On the scale I am now familiar with, and on which I can claim some expertise, the latter sounded somewhat perfunctory.
Then he rang off. ‘He’s in a movie meeting,’ she said, ‘so I couldn’t tell him. It’ll have to be a surprise.’ She cuddled the small bundle and made soft cooing noises.
‘What else did he say?’
She was evasive. Nothing much. Just some guys who might be coming up at the weekend.
Anyone she knew?
Not really. Well, she knew them a bit.
I let an estimated thirty seconds pass. So, who were they then, I inquired, in as uninterested a way as I could manage.
Oh, only a couple of Frank’s friends. She shrugged dismissively and kissed the puppy’s head. Nothing mattered in comparison to this, she seemed to be implying.
Male guys, I supposed. From the movie. I said this with studied neutrality. I always have to remind myself that ‘guys’ includes women as well. My instincts were on high alert.
Uh huh.
The director? I guessed Frank would have things to discuss with him, I said brightly. Kim nodded. With reluctance, I thought.
And what about that other one, the leading actor. The very good-looking one. Marlon, wasn’t it?
Another shrug. Maybe him too, she wasn’t sure.
My instincts were right. Marek and Marlon. But probably only for one night, she said.
The next few hours were a bit of a blur. I’d not forgotten the delights of a small puppy, but had some memory loss in other areas: the desire to chew everything in sight, the need for regular feeding, the toilet-training rituals. Kim’s instinctive competence in all these areas was impressive. She was quite sure it was half trained already.
I went to the bathroom library and dug out several useful books on training and caring for puppies. They were appropriately dog-eared, as Kim observed. It came flooding back to me, how ignorant I’d been. Not only that but consumed with anxiety about my lack of experience.
My attitude was the complete opposite of Kim’s, when I think about it. It crossed my mind, suddenly, that she would probably be a good mother. What’s more, that she would enjoy being one.
Teddy’s attitude was easy to read. He was tolerant of this small, high-energy power house that cavorted around his legs like a clockwork toy and charged back and forth at him in mock aggression. But where he was mildly diverted, it found him irresistible. When its attentions became too much for him he emitted a deep warning growl and flopped down on the floor near my feet.
With provisions sourced from both houses, we cobbled together a surprisingly good dinner. Spaghetti with a sauce of tinned tuna and tomatoes, grated cheese on top, and salad. Kim urged me to finish an opened bottle of white wine in their fridge. I saw she was expecting some so I poured her a glass. It’s probably wise for children to be introduced to sensible drinking habits early on. The French and Italians have always done this, and their drinking cultures are more civilised than ours. And far more so than the British. Afterwards we stacked the dishwasher I’d taken such anticipatory pleasure in choosing. I’ll never have one now.
I stayed the night in the house. She resisted – she’d be perfectly fine – but I was adamant. When she was a teenager it would be perfectly fine, I said, and when her dog was trained and a bit older. Anyway, it was the law that anyone under thirteen should not be left alone. I was not a hundred per cent certain I was right about this, but I stated it with authority. I think Kim was relieved by my insistence, although she tried to hide it.
We stripped off my sheets and brought them over. She suggested I sleep in her bed while she bunked down on the day bed in Frank’s music room. There was no need for that, I said at once. The obvious place was their bedroom.
She took a step back. ‘But I’ve got a really comfy bed.’
‘No. I’d prefer that room.’
‘Yeah? It’s a train wreck, but. You sure you want to go in there?’ About to bite her thumbnail, she snatched her hand away.
‘Why do you say that?’ I queried, although the subtext was crystal clear.
‘Well, you know. Because it’s, like – it would’ve been your bedroom.’
‘That’s why I want to sleep in there.’
She digested this idea. ‘Yeah, I can sort of understand that. I can. Definitely. But –’ A pause. ‘Do you think you ought to?’
Well, that was a question I was not prepared to deconstruct. ‘Just this once,’ I said.
‘Wouldn’t it be very hard?’
‘It would. But not too hard.’
‘But wouldn’t it be, like, a different place? Not yours? With another, you know, atmosphere, kind of written all over it?’
An occupying presence polluting the atmosphere, I thought. It would be a distortion of my original, yes. But I found I had a compulsion to do it all the same.
A train wreck was to the point. Male clothing was scattered all over the floor. I saw jeans, T-shirts and underwear. Papers, a couple of used ashtrays, a vase of dead flowers, several DVDs. Kim surveyed it all with distaste. It’s clear she finds squalor disturbing; I’ve caught myself reviewing my own habits a little in response. Fortunately puppy detritus seems to bother her not a whit.
She started kicking the clothes to one side. I stopped her. ‘It’s best if we leave it as it is.’ I sensed a touch of constraint between us, then thought I was imagining it.
The puppy came hurtling in and made a beeline for the undershorts. Kim prized first one pair and then another from its jaws and draped them over the bedstead, alongside two grimy towels already flung there. It was an enormous iron bed, raised high off the ground. King size – that’s the biggest bed you can get, she muttered. An odd remark, I thought.
We made it up by putting my sheets over theirs. Mine were far too small to tuck in, and the bed was far too high for Teddy. We had to put his blanket on the floor, over one of the large lounge room cushions.
Kim wrinkled her nose. ‘The bathroom’s in a dire state, too. I could clean the bath, if you like.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ I wondered how she knew this. Must have wandered in, I suppose, after Frank left this morning. I remembered how I’d told Frank that children are constitutionally inquisitive. How I’d insisted on it.
Teddy and I were ready to hit the hay, I said. The puppy had done us in.
‘She’s done me in too. Totally.’ Kim lifted her up tenderly and yawned, rotating her shoulders. ‘I know what I’d really like right now.’ Still holding the squirming puppy, she lifted her arms above her head in a prolonged stretch. ‘One of Frank’s massages, that’s what I’d really like. A good back rub. Wouldn’t you, Thea?’
I shouldn’t have been so jolted, I suppose, but I was. And shaken. Do you h
ave them often, I wondered. An impossible question, like a chat-up line from a bad comedy. Frank had told her about my liking for them, that was clear too. I found this disquieting also, in some way that was not so obvious.
‘I could give you a shoulder massage,’ she offered. ‘Wouldn’t be as good as his, no way. Might be better than nothing, though. Then you could follow it up with a relaxing bath.’
I shook my head. Thanks but no.
She gave me a prolonged, probing look. Was I totally sure I’d be all right in there? Totally, I said, with more confidence than I felt. Did I need a box to get up on the bed, she worried? I shooed her away and closed the bedroom door on the puppy. From the passage she called out, ‘I’ll’ve thought of a good name for her by morning.’
I felt as if I hadn’t slept. Fuzzy-headed and faintly nauseous. Kim by contrast was full of beans, spilling over with energy and joie de vivre. The puppy had slept like an angel in a cardboard carton on the end of her bed. Peed last thing at night and again first thing when Kim took her outside, having set the alarm for five-thirty. She was going to be a dream to train, like Teddy had been, she could tell.
And she had thought of a name for her: Andie. A girl Andie, spelt with an ‘ie’ at the end. What did I think? Didn’t it suit her, like, amazingly well? It was lively, kind of effervescent, like her nature. Tomboyish. It went well with Teddy too, didn’t it? Teddy and Andie. She was sure they would be friends.
Teddy did in fact show a little more interest in Andie this morning, sniffing her as she frolicked around him. He even gave her a lick or two. But his patience with her antics was short-lived, and he kept her under control with cautionary, rumbling growls that were alarming and very effective. I had the impression he rather enjoyed this.
Kim, eating muesli, striving not to talk at the same time and more or less managing, said she wished it was the weekend. She hated having to leave Andie for a whole entire day after just getting her. I watched as it dawned on her what day it actually was. Her body slumped. The spoon dropped from chest height, clattering into the bowl.
The Precipice Page 23
