by Ilsa Evans
Around me, everybody is still silently staring at the television as if hoping for an encore performance. The frozen tableau is only broken when a couple of the fairies sitting cross-legged in front of me put their hands over their mouths and start to giggle. I flash a glance at Alex, who is now looking up at the ceiling and whistling softly under his breath. Next to him, Maggie is staring at me open-mouthed, and Keith and the mother by the door are doing likewise. I want to die. Quickly, painlessly, and preferably with my clothes on.
‘C’n we watch it again?’
‘No!’ I leap forwards across the lounge-room over and around the juvenile audience and jab repeatedly at stop and eject simultaneously with my index finger. Finally the machine figures out what I want and spits the tape out. I grab it and turn to face the assorted fairies.
‘This,’ I say slowly, thinking rapidly as I hold the tape up, ‘this is a tape that belongs to my university. It’s part of an analytical guide which demonstrates representational strategies for propulsion analysis visual techniques, and CJ should not have shown it to you.’
‘But isn’t that you on the tape?’ asks one of the gigglers curiously.
‘No, it is not me,’ I say firmly. ‘Maybe the actress is someone who looks like me, but I promise you it is not me. I am not an actress. Besides, who in this house would take a film like that of me, do you think?’
‘But, Mummy, I –’
‘No, it is not me,’ I repeat after I kick CJ accidentally while climbing back over the children. ‘Sorry, sweetheart. Now, would you all like to collect your lolly bags? Your mothers should be here shortly.’
Amazingly, the large mother standing by Keith has nodded sagely all through my story and looks convinced. She grins at me and comes over.
‘Do you know, for a minute I thought that was you on the tape!’ she says laughing. ‘I couldn’t believe it!’
‘My god! If that was me do you think I’d still be standing here?’ I reply convincingly as I bend down and store the video cassette deep under the armchair beside me. ‘I’d be packed and on my way to China.’
‘Well, you’ll have to start putting your university tapes somewhere safer, you know. Some parents could get a bit upset about their kids watching that anatomy technique stuff.’
‘Look, I’m terribly sorry they saw it. I was doing some research this afternoon and I must have left it out. I’m really sorry.’
‘No problem. My Vanessa’s seen worse. Every time she sees me in the bath for a start!’
‘Nevertheless,’ I say, studiously trying to avoid a mental image of this rather large woman in a naked condition, ‘I’m really, really sorry.’
‘I said no problem. And now I’ll just find my Vanessa and we’ll get out of your way.’
‘Thanks.’ I smile weakly at her and turn to meet Maggie’s gaze.
‘Was that really a uni tape?’
‘Sure was. Don’t tell me you thought it was me?’
‘Well, I never thought it was you. Not for a minute,’ interjects Keith smugly, with a meaningful glance at Alex. ‘I know you too well to make a mistake like that.’
Sam comes wandering into the lounge-room in a completely fresh outfit and a jacket slung over her arm. She looks at us all curiously.
‘What’s going on?’
‘Absolutely nothing. CJ just put on the wrong tape, that’s all, but it’s sorted out. And now, you lot’ll have to excuse me.’ I avoid looking at any of them as I back away. ‘I’ve got to go and arrange these kids before they go.’
Right on cue, the doorbell rings again and I look around frantically for someone to answer it. My eyes meet Keith’s and, tactical mistake be damned, I look at him appealingly. He nods obligingly and heads over to the front door while I sigh and walk back into the kitchen – where I suddenly remember Jaime and her eye. As soon as she sees me the damn child starts to wail loudly once more, so I put my hand in front of her mouth again. After all, it worked last time.
‘Now, Jaime, I have a splitting headache so, if I take my hand away, could you please stop your carrying-on?’
‘Nuh! Nuh!’ Jaime replies loudly through my fingers.
‘But I have to look at your eye before your mother gets here!’
In reply, Jaime starts to yell even louder behind my now rather damp hand and Keith comes into the kitchen with a couple of the mothers in tow, one of whom unfortunately is Jaime’s. I quickly take my hand away from the child’s mouth as her rather well-endowed mother spots her and rushes over to envelop her child suffocatingly against her ample chest.
‘Oh, my! What has happened?’
‘Well, she won’t let me see the damage but she got poked in the eye with a wand.’ I surreptitiously wipe my hand on a tea-towel. ‘Listen, can she breathe?’
The doorbell rings again and I glance across at Keith, who immediately heads dutifully down the passage. Two fairies race screaming through the kitchen and push between the mothers before continuing on full pelt in Keith’s wake. As my eyes follow their progress, I spot Vanessa’s large mother peering around the door from the dining room firmly clutching her daughter’s hand.
‘I’ve found her and now I’ll be off. Keep watching those videos!’
‘Jaime! Jaime! Darling, are you all right?’
‘Look, I’ll just take Parris and Stephanie and go. Don’t worry about seeing us out.’
‘Jaime! Jaime! Speak to me!’
Two more mothers crowd into the kitchen to see what the hullabaloo is all about. I reassure them that their children are perfectly safe, and leave Jaime and her mother to it while I go and attempt to track down said children to prove it. One of the two fairies racing down the passage has collided full on with the wall at the end, but luckily her mother had walked in just in time to witness it. And so she can’t possibly blame me. Instead she begins to lecture her daughter loudly about the inadvisability of running into walls while she waves a cheery goodbye to me and heads straight back out the door. Her daughter is dragged alongside, one hand clamped over her nose which looks to me like it is bleeding. Not my problem.
I locate the two children I was looking for in the lounge-room making a video-cassette castle, so I thrust a lolly bag in each hand (which means they probably end up with four, but I’m beyond caring), and reunite them with their respective mothers at the front door.
Six down, six to go . . . including Jaime. A father, who must have snuck in while I wasn’t looking, thanks me profusely for entertaining his offspring and leaves. I spare a moment to hope sincerely that the child he took was his offspring. Nevertheless, that’s seven down, five to go. As I head back to the kitchen and the still wailing Jaime, Keith passes me with two mothers, another father and the respective fairies in tow. I wave goodbye. Back in the kitchen, Jaime has found her voice and is volubly blaming Caitlin for her current predicament. And I realise that Alex, Maggie and Sam must have left at some time during the ongoing debacle.
‘I think I’ll take Jaime home now,’ Jaime’s mother says primly as she lifts her child down from the bench and suspiciously eyes the half-empty wineglasses.
‘Is she all right? Can I get her anything?’
‘No. I think you’ve done enough. I’ll take her home,’ she repeats as she spares another pointed glance for the evidence of my debauched lifestyle. Not fair, I didn’t even get a sip of mine! Keith arrives back in time to escort Jaime and her stony-faced mother to the door. As they head down the passage I can hear him explaining exactly how the accident happened. Perhaps that will help. I make a mental note to ring later and ask after the damn child. Well, that’s all of them. I sigh heavily and lean back against the counter in relief.
‘Have you seen Caitlin?’
‘You are kidding! I thought they’d all left!’ I straighten up and look wearily at Caron, Caitlin’s mother, who is grinning at me from the doorway. Caron, who has helped me out with transport and babysitting on numerous occasions, is a slim, vibrant-looking blonde about five years younger than me.
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‘Are you telling me you’ve lost my child?’
‘Well, we managed to critically injure a couple of them so losing her may well be a blessing in disguise!’ Although I spare a thought for that unidentified guy who left earlier with a child in tow. Surely I would have noticed if it was Caitlin?
‘She’s probably hiding in CJ’s room,’ Caron replies. ‘I’d better grab her because I’ve left Jade and Jordan in the car.’
‘Oh, good – I mean . . . ’
‘I know what you mean,’ laughs Caron, ‘and no offence taken.’
‘My sister just had twins too,’ I say to hide my embarrassment. Although I hope to whatever god is up there that, for Diane’s sake, her twins don’t turn out like Caron’s three-year-old juvenile delinquents.
‘Oh, god. Poor her,’ Caron says with considerable feeling. ‘But I’d better go grab Caitlin.’
She is saved the effort by Keith, who comes back up the passage with both children in front of him dragging their feet reluctantly.
‘Look who I found in CJ’s wardrobe!’
‘Can’t Caitlin stay the night, Mummy?’
‘Mummy, we watched the best scary video! It had –’
‘CJ, have you forgotten that you’re going back to Daddy’s tonight?’ I interject quickly. ‘Instead of visiting him on Thursday as usual, you’re spending the whole night at his house. He’s taking you to school in the morning. Remember, it’s a birthday treat.’
‘Oh! I forgot! Okay, bye, Caitlin.’ CJ abruptly abandons her friend and attempts to crawl up her father’s trouser leg. ‘Let’s go, Daddy! Let’s go!’
‘C’mon, Caitlin, we’ll get you home.’ Caron grabs her daughter by the hand. ‘You can tell me all about the video in the car.’
‘Don’t believe a word she says,’ I say tiredly.
‘I often don’t,’ replies Caron. ‘And don’t worry about seeing me out. I’ll leave you to it, see you at school tomorrow!’
As I had no intention of seeing them out, I simply wave wearily from my position slumped against the counter. When she opens the front door I can hear her twins screaming loudly from the car, then the noise is abruptly cut off as the door closes again. Now all I need to do is get rid of Keith and CJ, and I can have a well-deserved drink and a think about what happened here tonight.
‘Hey–’ Keith is still standing there with his daughter wrapped around one leg – ‘that was pretty funny about the video, wasn’t it?’
‘Hysterical.’
‘How about a drink for the workers?’
Hell’s bells. This is exactly what I don’t want – not with him at any rate. But I am saved from answering by an outraged squeal from CJ.
‘Nooo! I want to go with you now!’ She leaps off his leg and begins to tug at his hand frantically. ‘C’mon, c’mon.’
‘But, sweetheart, your mum has to pack your nightie, and your school gear for tomorrow, so why don’t I have a drink while she does it?’
‘Oh, Keith, that’s fine. It’s all packed and ready to go.’ I breathe an inaudible sigh of relief. For once I was organised and the dividends are paying off already!
‘See, Daddy! C’mon, c’mon!’
Keith is left with little choice. I think if I had given him the least encouragement he would have stood up to his daughter and quite happily stayed for a drink. But I didn’t, so he couldn’t, and now they’re almost on their way. CJ drags her father down the passageway and blows me a perfunctory kiss at the front door. I pluck her packed schoolbag from under the hat-stand and pass it to her father.
‘Bye, honey! Bye, Keith . . . and thanks for your help.’
‘Anytime. I mean it.’ He looks at me strangely and hesitates in the doorway as CJ tugs impatiently on his arm.
‘That won’t be necessary – but thanks anyway.’
‘Oh, and happy birthday for this Sunday.’
‘You remembered!’ I look at him in surprise.
‘Of course I did.’
‘Well . . . thanks. But I’ve decided to ignore it this year,’ I say with a smile. ‘I’ll start counting again next year. Okay, CJ, how about giving me a proper kiss?’
‘Bye, Mummy.’ CJ flits forwards and deposits several big wet kisses on my lips. ‘Lub you. C’mon, Daddy!’
I watch his car reverse out of the driveway and reflect on the fact that he did behave unexpectedly well at the party. Apart from that little civilised confrontation with Alex and Maggie, Keith was more of a help than a hindrance. But no way will I let that fool me. He is, and always will be, CJ’s father and for that reason I will still welcome him into my house on occasion – but that’s where it ends. I have fought too hard for my security to risk it in any way, shape or form.
As the car disappears around the corner, I let my gaze travel to the house next door. Maggie’s car is still in the driveway so she hasn’t left yet, and I can hear a lot of laughing and general merriment going on inside. As I listen in unashamedly, I can make out Ben’s voice amongst the others. Now, under ordinary circumstances I would be rather annoyed with him for not checking in at home first but, given the fact that his father has just returned home from an extended stay overseas – and Keith was here – I suppose these aren’t exactly ordinary circumstances. Although perhaps we had better establish some ground rules concerning correct teenage behaviour for when one’s divorced parents are living side by side.
Anyway, perhaps it’s just as well for his chances of living a long life that he does not see me in the near future. Not until the full-screen image of my genitalia fades from my memory at any rate. And I think that may well be a very, very long time.
Reluctantly, I go back inside and look around at the mess. Wilting balloons, puddles of drink, leftover food, and discarded paper as far as the eye can see. Also several wands and the occasional size nine pink jiffy. I sigh heavily because it’s much too hot for this. But first things first. I rescue the video from where I stored it under the armchair, place it carefully on the floor, and jump on it. Then I jump on it again, and again, until the hard black casing splinters and the tape begins to spool out from the plastic carcass. I pick up the splinters and the tape and head back to the kitchen where I take the scissors, cut the tape into tiny segments, and deposit the lot in the bin. No one is seeing that film again – ever. If everybody on earth is entitled to fifteen minutes of fame, then I want to trade in my remaining fourteen minutes right now. Give me obscurity, and give me clothes.
I drain my glass of wine, grimace at the warmness, and get the cask back out of the fridge. As I am about to refill my glass, I glance across at Alex’s empty one and, on impulse, grab it and refill that one instead. Why, I don’t know. Just one of those spur of the moment things that make very little sense. I pick up the glass and raise it high.
‘Welcome back,’ I say to thin air as I take a sip. No-one answers. In fact, the house is so quiet it’s eerie. From nonstop ear-splitting noise to deathly stillness in the space of a few minutes. It’s a bit of a culture shock. I finish off the contents of the glass and decide that I’ll only reward myself with another drink after I have done a bit of cleaning up. I head into the lounge-room and begin collecting all the newspaper I had left earlier. Then I shove it into the bag of discarded wrapping. As the last piece goes in, I hear voices outside and a quick peek out the window confirms that Maggie is leaving, and the other three have crowded out onto the lawn to bid her farewell. Moving rapidly, I grab my half-full bag of recycling and hurtle out the front door, where I immediately slow down and assume a nonchalant pose to stroll across to my rubbish bins, and try to get my breathing under control. A sidelong glance tells me that they are too busy talking to notice me, so I shove the plastic garbage bag into the recycling bin (I had planned to empty it in but I just don’t have time), and bash the bins noisily against each other a bit before casually rolling them out onto the nature strip for tomorrow.
‘Hey! Do you want a hand?’
‘What?’ I straighten up and try to look someth
ing like a deer that has been caught in the headlights (I don’t know why – it just seems like the right facial expression for the moment). ‘Oh, it’s you! I didn’t see you there.’
‘Are you okay? You’ve gone all sort of . . . well, bug-eyed.’ Alex is leaning against the side fence and looking at me with a rather puzzled expression. That is not the reaction I was looking for, so I wipe deer-caught-in-the-headlights from my face and from my repertoire of useful facial expressions.
‘Oh. No, I’m only surprised – I didn’t expect to see you out here.’
‘Maggie’s just left, so we were saying goodbye. But are you sure you’re okay?’
‘I said I’m all right!’
‘Hey!’ Alex holds his hands up in mock surrender. ‘Don’t bite my head off – I’m merely being a concerned neighbour, that’s all.’
‘Whatever. Where are the kids?’
‘They’ve gone back in. Probably to finish off the pizza before I get a chance. Hey, have you eaten? Why don’t you join us?’
‘Oh, I don’t know . . . I should clean up in there.’ I gesture vaguely towards my house.
‘Yeah, you’ve got your little girl too, I forgot.’
‘No, I haven’t. Not at the moment, anyway. She’s gone to stay at her father’s.’
‘Well then, no excuses. C’mon, it’ll give me a reason to open some champagne!’
‘Well . . . okay, you’ve talked me into it. I’ll just lock up here and then I’ll come over in a couple of minutes.’
A couple of minutes should be just about long enough for me to wash my hands, shave my legs, sponge my left breast, blow-dry my hair, plaster some make-up on my face and spray a little perfume behind each ear. That should do it. Any more and I simply won’t look natural.
