Starlight Peninsula

by Grimshaw, Charlotte

  Stabbing her phone with her index finger, Carina said, ‘I’ve got six things to do at once, and Giles is in Georgia again, and Mum’s getting her hair done.’

  The Sparkler kneeled and held the dog’s muzzle in her hands. She whispered in his ear and the dog cocked his head and turned up one side of his mouth, and actually smiled.

  Eloise looked at her sister, who in turn stared fiercely down at her phone. Carina was tall, thin, dark-haired, with deep brown eyes and a sharp face. Carina seemed to Eloise always to be on a slant: leaning forward, hurrying, frowning, the furrow deepening between her eyebrows. She wrote features and a weekly column for the Record, which was the North Island’s biggest paper. She complained (everyone complained) that the Record was turning into a tabloid, the real news squeezed into a diminishing space between crime and celebrity gossip.

  ‘Right, I’d better go,’ Carina said.

  ‘Wait.’ Eloise drew her away from the child and dog and said, ‘Do you remember years ago I gave you a bag of stuff belonging to Arthur, that I’d taken from his flat?’

  ‘Yes, sure.’

  ‘Have you still got it?’

  ‘It’s in our basement. I hid it, like you told me to.’

  ‘I wasn’t supposed to take anything of his. I’ll come and get it soon, okay?’

  ‘Sure. Why?’

  ‘I’d like to have a look. I can’t even remember what’s in it.’

  And then Eloise and the Sparkler stood at the side of the road, waving Carina off. The car droned up the peninsula and Eloise followed her niece down the path past the stucco house.

  The Sparkler was a small, wiry, brown-haired girl, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, a bag printed with Soon and Starfish cartoons slung over her shoulder.

  ‘You’ve got earrings,’ Eloise said.

  The girl nodded. ‘Mum got a tattoo and I got my ears pierced.’

  ‘Is the tattoo nice?’

  ‘It’s like, a bird. Is this the house?’

  ‘Yes, they burst in, in the middle of the night, see where there’s a big dent in the door, they had a battering ram and sneaked up and smashed the door open. Then they sent in dogs. You should have heard it. It was chaos.’

  The Sparkler climbed the steps to the concrete porch. She had a broad forehead, intelligent, deep-set brown eyes, gold studs in her ears. Her face was bony, with strong cheekbones and a Roman nose. When she smiled, sharp dimples appeared in her cheeks. Her real name was Rachel Margery.

  ‘You heard of tear gas?’ Eloise said.

  ‘No.’

  ‘The police shoot it at people, it makes their eyes sting so the police can arrest them. My neighbour, Nick, told me you can fire tear gas into a house and then send in police dogs because dogs aren’t affected by the gas. The humans are blinded and gagging but the dogs don’t feel it at all.’

  The Sparkler, on tip-toe, peered through the rippled glass panes beside the door. ‘Where are the people?’

  ‘In jail, I suppose.’

  ‘I’m hungry.’

  ‘Didn’t you have any lunch?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You like curry?’

  ‘No!’

  They untied Silvio and walked to the shops. Eloise talked about the man who owned the dog that looked like a wolf.

  The Sparkler said, ‘By the way, Silvio’s full name is Silvio Le Bron Hay.’ Silvio heard his name and turned his head.

  He fixed his strange, knowing, golden eyes on them.

  They bought bread, cheese and ham, then went to the pet goods and hardware aisle where the Sparkler selected a bag of rusks shaped like bones, and Eloise lingered before putting a bottle of methylated spirits into the basket.

  Silvio was waiting patiently out the front, chained to a pole. They fed him a treat and headed for the dog park. Eloise undid his chain and he shot over to another dog, his tail quivering.

  The Sparkler said, ‘See how he bends his front legs and sticks his bum in the air. That’s a play bow. It means let’s have a chase. Watch this.’ She took the treats out of a zipper pocket of her bag, called the dog, made him sit, and rewarded him with a treat.

  They sat on a bench. It was hot and bright, a shine coming off the flax. Eloise broke off bits of cheddar and folded them with the ham to make lumpy sandwiches.

  ‘So, what about school.’

  ‘I’m the best at maths. And reading.’

  ‘Good teacher?’

  ‘The usual.’

  ‘Nice bag. You like the Soon and Starfish books?’

  ‘I like them on TV, too. Mum got it at LA airport. She brought me a Soon and Starfish T-shirt too.’

  ‘Do you like Soon or Starfish?’

  ‘Both. And the Green Lady and the Bachelor. Who do you like?’

  ‘Maybe the Bachelor, and the Cassowaries. I like the way they’re drawn. They look cool. Like Tintin.’

  ‘Mum says, um, they’re iwonic.’

  ‘Oh. Okay.’

  Silvio got hot and waded into the mangroves looking for water but the tide was out and he came scrambling up the bank, his belly smeared with black mud. He was now pie-coloured, tongue hanging out, panting and reeking, the Sparkler scolding him in her high, shrill voice. They clipped on his chain and pulled him back along the creek edge, over the bridge.

  They put the garden hose on the dog. With his hair slicked down he looked much smaller, his legs and tail rakishly thin. Eloise laughed at his long nose, drooping silken ears and martyred expression.

  ‘He looks like Jesus. Like Silvio of Nazareth.’

  The dog sank down, put his chin on his paws, heaved a theatrical sigh and appeared to go straight to sleep.

  ‘That’s him taken care of,’ said the Sparkler responsibly.

  Eloise considered her niece. ‘Actually, let’s put him in the garage, out of the way. There’s something you can help me with.’

  It took them a long time to build a pile on the grass in front of the deck. When they’d balanced the last items, an old golf bag and a wicker picnic basket on the top, Eloise turned on the hose, and wet the ground around the pile.

  She hunted in the house, came out on the deck. ‘I can’t find any matches.’

  The Sparkler rummaged in her bag and brought out a Bic lighter.

  ‘What’s that for? You taken up smoking?’

  The girl shrugged.

  ‘Okay. Sean burnt some garden rubbish here once. You’re not supposed to but it should be fine. Stand back. And hang on to the hose.’

  Eloise crouched down and set fire to a cardboard roll of posters. The flame bloomed up and burned halfway along the roll before fizzling out. She tried again. The cardboard resisted the flame. The whole pile shifted to one side.

  The Sparkler danced around, hugging herself. ‘Let’s use the stuff you bought. The meffs.’

  Eloise looked doubtfully at the pile. The Sparkler scurried inside and came out with the plastic bottle.

  ‘Gorn, do it.’

  ‘Give me that.’

  Eloise took the bottle, made the girl stand back, hesitated, then poured liquid down the sides of the pile.

  ‘That’s not enough.’

  ‘All right.’

  She splashed out more, lit a piece of paper and tossed it on. There was a whoomph, and the whole pile went up.

  The Sparkler screamed.

  ‘Fire, fire.’

  Sparks flew up, there were pops and cracks and flames shot high, blown by the afternoon breeze. A suitcase lid peeled back like a mouth, curling, melting. The Sparkler capered and shouted, picking up handfuls of dry grass and throwing them on the pyre.

  ‘Keep back,’ Eloise said.

  They watched. The fire roared, grew intense at its centre.

  Eloise had hold of the hose with one hand and was reaching for the Sparkler to pull her back when the whole pile started to topple sideways.

  ‘Look out,’ they both shouted, and the burning tower fell, flaming in all directions, sending embers whirling into the air and depositing a th
ick wad of burning material into the stand of toe toe along the boundary. The toe toe, parched after months of drought, went up like a bomb. They felt the rush, the fire sucking in air as the white plumes crackled and curled up, exploding into sparks that blew into the long grass beyond the fence. Embers began drifting onto brown lawns, clinging to dry bushes, settling in the long grass in front of the stucco house.

  The Sparkler stood on the edge of the deck, her face fixed in an expression of savage delight. Embers floated in the air above her head.

  They jumped at Nick’s voice. ‘What are you doing? You’ll set the whole peninsula on fire. Give me the hose.’ And then, ‘It’s gone too far. Ring 111.’

  Eloise gave him the hose, went inside and rang the fire brigade.

  ‘Someone’s garden fire’s out of control,’ she said politely.

  She could see Nick on the lawn, shouting directions, training the hose on the stand of toe toe, a couple of other neighbours stamping out embers in the grass.

  It was surprising how quickly the firemen showed up, their massive hose so powerful that much of what remained of the toe toe blew apart in a watery explosion of ash and earth and sticks. They had it under control fast, although they stayed for a while to make sure Eloise hadn’t set any roofs on fire, and that the dry grass wasn’t going to reignite.

  Not much remained of the pile, apart from a burned patch of lawn and some unidentifiable rubble. The toe toe, once a large stand of beautiful feathery white plumes, was a charred mound, and most of the bushes along the fence were blackened. A long dark smear stretched out from the toe toe like a shadow, a black finger pointing towards the dog park.

  Beyond the lawn Nick was listening to two people, who gestured towards Eloise and spoke animatedly.

  The senior fire officer had pale blue eyes and cheeks ravaged by fine wrinkles. Eloise watched him coming towards her in his creaking silver coat. He began to talk about public nuisance, damage to council property. Her actions had endangered the entire peninsula. Open burning was an offence under the Resource Management Act. Was she not aware of the drought, of current fire restrictions?

  Nick came across the grass, looping the garden hose around his hand and elbow.

  The fireman said to Eloise, ‘Your daughter could’ve been injured.’

  ‘Yes I’m sorry, it was stupid. Actually, she’s my niece, I’m just looking after her for a few hours.’

  The fireman said something about completing paperwork. A fine.

  She was seeing them off at the front door when Carina turned up.

  ‘Oh my God, what’s going on?’

  ‘Everything’s fine, we had a little fire.’

  ‘Quite a big fire actually,’ the fireman said.

  Eloise faced her sister. ‘I’ll explain, the Sparkler’s fine, she’s on the lawn.’

  Carina went inside.

  The firemen left and Eloise went to find Carina, who was inspecting the lawn with her hands on her hips.

  ‘Sean did it once. There was never any danger.’

  ‘But there’s a drought. Have you gone crazy?’

  ‘I didn’t think. I’m going to have to pay a fine. And the neighbours will hate me.’

  Carina looked at her narrowly.

  ‘Please don’t be angry. Shall we have a drink? There’s some wine in the fridge, I’ll be back in a minute.’

  Nick’s back door was open. She knocked, called out and he came along the hall shirtless, drying his hands. She looked at his thin, muscular chest and thought: karate.

  He said, pained, ‘The toe toe was beautiful.’

  ‘And all your bushes. Sorry.’

  ‘They’ll grow back.’

  ‘I got the idea after we talked. I decided, okay, clean slate.’

  He leaned on the door frame. ‘So you thought torch everything.’

  ‘I really am sorry about your toe toe. Would you like to come and have some takeaways? My sister and I are going to order pizza. If she’s not too angry with me. She’ll think I’m not a fit babysitter now.’

  ‘Let me just get a shirt. Come in.’

  She stood in the hall, looking into the bare rooms. He seemed to be camping in a virtually empty house.

  ‘What were you burning?’ he called out.

  ‘Stuff from my marriage. Junk.’

  ‘From the recent relationship or the one before that?’ He came out, buttoning up a shirt.

  She looked at him, surprised. ‘The recent one.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘It was all just junk,’ she said.

  Eloise introduced Nick to Carina and the Sparkler, who fingered her gold earrings, bobbed her head shyly and said, ‘Demelza’s here.’

  Demelza Hay appeared on the deck, an elegantly dressed old woman with dyed blonde hair, painted eyebrows and an angular face. She was trailed by a dachshund of significant girth and pomp: Gerald.

  ‘Hello, all. Come on, Gerald. Carina! If you could just …?’

  Carina rose and went outside to park their mother’s car, which she’d abandoned, in her usual way, in the middle of the street.

  Demelza greeted her other daughter and granddaughter, shook Nick’s hand and sat down at the table, fixing her sharp eyes on Eloise.

  ‘Any news?’

  ‘Sean? He’s not coming back. I’m going to have to sell the house, leave the peninsula.’

  Demelza looked at Nick. ‘Men,’ she said. Her gaze rested on the blackened grass, the mounds of burnt vegetation. She sniffed. ‘But, chuck, your bushes are all black. And what a pong. What’s happened?’

  ‘We had a bonfire,’ the Sparkler said.

  Carina and the Sparkler argued about the pizzas, Eloise got on the phone and ordered, and they sat on the deck drinking wine and eating crisps.

  Demelza said to Nick, ‘Eloise’s husband has taken up with an actress. She’s very attractive, I understand. My husband, Terrence, now, Eloise’s father. He was a right terror with the women.’ Her expression turned distant; she seemed to suppress a brave, bitter laugh. ‘Any road, he wasn’t going to give up his fancy women. I lived with it. I became a realist.’

  Carina snorted. ‘No you didn’t. You were furious when he had affairs.’

  The Sparkler, all studied innocence, was watching Demelza and secretly feeding the dogs crisps under the table.

  Demelza said, haughty, ‘I accepted it.’

  ‘Right. Sure. As well as wanting to kill him. And fair enough, too.’

  ‘No, Carina.’ Demelza drummed her fingers on the table. ‘I believe in telling the truth, see.’

  There was a silence.

  Eloise tipped up her wine glass and said in a faint voice, ‘It doesn’t make much difference whether I accept it or not, since Sean’s gone.’

  ‘Men are hopeless,’ Demelza said, holding out her glass. ‘Carina, if you could just …’

  Carina didn’t move. Nick poured more wine all round.

  ‘Thank you, that’s champion,’ Demelza said. ‘Do you wish me to pass the crisps, Nick, or have you had sufficient? Terrence and I came from Manchester, Nick, when we were in our twenties. We’ve been very happy, once we got used to the heat and the problems, the insects and the diarrhoea, which we all suffer from here, goodness knows.’

  Carina said, ‘God! She’s been here fifty years and she still makes it sound like she’s living in the tropics.’

  A phone went off. ‘My editor,’ Carina said and wandered off over the lawn. Demelza and the Sparkler made stick figures and words on the table out of crisp crumbs. Demelza said, ‘How are you getting on at school?’

  ‘I like it.’

  ‘Your mummy hated school. She was always in terrible trouble. The teachers were right nasty to her. Are yours horrible?’

  ‘Mrs Reid is a Nazi.’

  Demelza laughed, clapped her hands. ‘A Nazi.’

  ‘If my socks are the wrong colour, Mrs Reid says I’ll have to be sent home.’

  Demelza narrowed her eyes. ‘Does she say that? See, she shouldn’t
say that to you, I reckon. That’s petty. That’s wrong-uh.’

  The Sparkler struck a pose. ‘I accept it.’ Her expression was deadpan. ‘I’m a realist.’

  ‘Well, what a character you are,’ Demelza said, sweeping away the crumbs and gathering them in her fist. ‘Just like your mummy.’

  She turned to Nick. ‘Carina was a wild girl. Hated school. She was always falling foul of the law when she was a teenager. Getting arrested and the like.’

  ‘By the police?’ the Sparkler said, big-eyed.

  ‘Ooh yes. You know, Nick, we’d get the call, come down to the police station. There she’d be, just out of the cells. What with that and the troubles at school, she could be terribly difficult, you know.’

  Eloise said, ‘Carina mightn’t want people to hear that stuff.’

  ‘What stuff?’ Carina said, sliding into her seat.

  ‘How you used to get in trouble at school,’ the Sparkler said.

  ‘And be arrested,’ the little girl added.

  Carina fixed her mother with a steady look.

  The old woman laughed, her bright eyes on Eloise, ‘Ooh, I can never keep my mouth shut. You know what Terry says about me, I can’t tell a lie. Not one falsehood, me. I just can’t.’

  Carina leaned forward. ‘Who’s asking you to lie?’

  Demelza’s tone hardened. ‘Well, I can’t see what the harm is, Carina.’

  Eloise watched her mother’s fingers drumming on the table.

  They were interrupted by the delivery man bringing boxes loaded with pizza; they lost focus, the conversation shifted, they talked about the GCSB scandal, about the local security services caught spying illegally on the internet millionaire Kurt Hartmann.

  Carina mentioned the mayor, Edward Mack, who’d been caught having an affair with an employee.

  ‘Edward Mack then,’ Demelza said, looking at Nick. ‘With that high-pressure job, I imagine the poor chap had to have an affair, just to help him get through the day.’

  Carina glanced quickly at Eloise, then leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes, her whole body expressing irritation. Eloise stared out at the estuary, where the silver water was running fast with the incoming tide.