by K T Bowes
My elderly father sat on the knackered sofa with his trousers round his ankles. His home help, allegedly from the Philippines, sat astride him, naked from the waist down. They grunted in unison, sex noises filling the room as the fifty-year-old woman raised herself up and down on her knees. I gaped with my mouth open before the bile rose into my throat and caused me to close it. Dropping the bag on the carpet, I turned and marched from the flat, leaving the front door open. I couldn’t remove the image from the backs of my eyelids and even hot tears of disgust couldn’t lever Dad’s open mouthed look of ecstasy from my brain. I shuddered and trembled with horror and nobody sat next to me on the ride back to downtown Auckland in case it proved infectious.
An hour and another bus ride later and I pushed my front door open with my hands full of mail from the box downstairs. The image still floated around my inner vision but I’d replaced it mostly with the red mist of fury. I rang the company who’d organised May-Ling to inform them she’d crossed the line in her caring and met with his case worker. “That’s not in her job description,” I said, hearing my voice wobble. “I walked in on them and it was hideous. I’d like her removed, please.” I stopped myself adding ‘surgically’, not wanting someone else to suffer nightmares too.
“Mrs Saint.” More silence. “Your father terminated his contract with us before Christmas. I have no idea who this May-Ling is; she’s nothing to do with us.”
I sat on my sofa for a while with my head in my hands. Dad didn’t text which could mean a number of things. I liked to imagine he felt great shame, but reality told me either he’d had a massive coronary or worse, was still in the same position I left him in. A spiteful part of me hoped they got stuck like it and the warden called the fire brigade to prise them apart.
I reread his last text; the one which caused me to alarm Helen with my shaky silence and the flicker of fear began again. I wondered if the two police officers told my father their suspicions or if he’d jumped to conclusions. I contemplated ringing the station and confessing to not only abandoning a drunk on his doorstep like he meant nothing more than a newspaper, but also to dashing back to my place and allowing myself to be undressed by a complete stranger.
The cringe came from the inside out and I put my head in my hands. My cousin Jack worked as a cop and anything with my name on it would reach his ears. I didn’t want him to know about Teina, even though I knew he couldn’t tell the family. The Saints excommunicated him the minute he stepped into his police issue trousers. Saints hated cops almost as much as referees. It was rule number two.
I couldn’t spend the evening worrying so instead I called Aunty Pam. She answered the phone with her usual brand of cheer. “What’s up, sweet pea?”
I held my breath and then exhaled, splurging all my most recent problems with it. “I found the home help on top of Dad, the cops think I murdered Uncle Mark and I slept with a total stranger.”
“I’ll be there in thirty minutes,” she said, her voice calm and even.
Chapter 16
She made it in twenty because she coerced poor Uncle Larry into dropping her off. Then she sent him to buy pizza.
“She’s not really a home help,” I complained, my fingers writhing in my lap. “What should I do?”
“Call the police?” Pam asked, gripping my hand in hers.
“No!” My eyes widened until my face hurt. “Then they’ll arrest me for killing Uncle Mark! They’ll think I hate all old people.”
Pam made a dismissive sound with her lips. “I don’t care about any of that. I’ve told Jordan for years to go screw himself so I’m glad he’s found someone to help. Don’t give him a second thought, Ursula. Stop running around after him; if he’s well enough to engage in that kind of afternoon pastime then he doesn’t need you at his beck and call.”
I nodded, unconvinced. “What if she’s after his money?”
Pam snorted. “If she’s willing to do that to get it, she’s welcome to it.”
I put my hand over my mouth. “That would make her a prostitute.”
“Who cares?” Pam slapped my leg. “He’s not your problem anymore.” Her eyes crinkled in the corners. “Before Larry comes back, I want to know everything about this mystery man.”
My tears alarmed her and the smirk dropped off her face with rapid speed. Her arms doubled for my mother’s embrace and soothed me as if I was Alysha. “It’s ok,” she whispered. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
I shook my head. “He was perfect; everything seemed incredible.” I wiped my nose on my sleeve. “He came round here after the game because he’d heard about Terry slapping me and I overreacted. He wanted me to talk to the cops, but I didn’t want to and panicked. I asked him to take me to his place and when he hesitated, I accused him of being married and haven’t seen him since.” The tears coursed down my face, taking the heavy foundation with it and Pam winced at the revealed cut and bruising on my cheek.
“You haven’t been putting ice on that,” she tutted and I sighed as the nurse in her overrode everything else.
“I’ve had other things on my mind!”
Pam smirked. “I can imagine. What’s he like?”
I thought of Teina’s easy smile and the way his fingers stroked the hair back from my face. I spoke, mid-sigh. “You remember that thing the vicar says about sex?” I asked, blowing my nose into a tissue. “It’s like gluing two bits of corrugated cardboard together and leaving them to dry. Then when you try to pull them apart, both get damaged.”
Pam looked at me with an odd expression. “So, was it not good then?”
I leapt up with a groan of exasperation. “It was brilliant, ok? All four times were absolutely amazing! I’m not talking about the mechanics. I’m trying to tell you how I feel at the thought of never seeing him again; like having my guts ripped out.”
Larry stood at the open front door clutching two pizza boxes. His mouth hung open and he stared at me with betrayal in his eyes. “You did it four times? Are you trying to make me feel inadequate?”
Pam stood and took the pizza boxes from his hands, patting him on the cheek with a gentle hand. “You’re all quality, babe. Once is enough.”
Larry appeared mollified and grabbed plates from the cupboard, laying them out on the counter. “Do we know him?” he said and shot me a peculiar look. “How would he know what happened at the game?”
I swallowed, not ready to give up Teina’s identity yet. “He heard about it,” I lied.
Larry nodded, seeming to accept my answer.
“We’ll eat here,” I said, pulling up the two bar stools for my guests and standing on the other side, leaning over my plate with my elbows on the counter.
“Stand up straight,” Pam rebuked me. “You’ll give yourself indigestion.”
I resisted the irrational urge to pout and stood up in obedience. Pam nudged Larry with her elbow as he snaffled a huge bite of cheesy pizza into his mouth. “Ursula walked in on Jordan giving the home help something a little extra,” she said, her tone so casual he stopped chewing as though he’d misheard.
Realisation dawned on his face and he covered his hand with his mouth and dropped the delectable slice back onto his plate. “I feel sick now,” he announced, pushing his plate away.
“It didn’t do much for me,” I sighed, looking for sympathy. “I need counselling.”
“Oh, shut up, you’re not five,” Pam snorted. “What did you think they were doing? Playing scrabble?”
“You’re Mum’s sister! You should be upset.” My indignation emerged in my tone and drew hurt from Aunty Pam’s face.
“Yes, I am. I miss her every day but the only good thing to come out of her marriage to that loser was you. I don’t care if he wants to do every dirty chick in greater Auckland, Ursula. I hope he catches something nasty and it drops off!”
“Pamela!” Larry’s warning hand rested on his wife’s arm and Pam shook him off with a rough movement.
“Excuse me,” she grunted and hopped off her s
tool, heading for the bathroom with a swish of her floral skirt.
Larry looked at me with apology in his eyes and I swallowed. “She doesn’t like Dad?” I whispered as though it was a new concept. My faithful uncle’s face creased in amazement and he snorted with laughter, hooting until actual tears ran from his eyes and the stitch made him clutch at his side.
I shook my head in surprise, unable to join in and astounded at how clueless I’d been at noticing the most important things under my nose.
Chapter 17
He stood on the balcony of the club house, leaning with one elbow on the rail. A group of teenage girls ogled his neat backside from a table inside the open doors, giggling to one another behind their hands. Oblivious as always, Jack Saint turned at the sound of my footsteps on the worn deck. “Hi,” I grunted, placing both palms on the rail next to him and closing my fingers around the rimu. I imagined our grandfathers hugging the wood and watching the final stages of a close game.
“What’s up?” He leaned down and nudged me with his shoulder, turning to get a better look at my grumpy visage.
“Nothing,” I lied, shielding my eyes from the setting sun.
“Jack, Maddie fancies you,” one of the teenagers called amidst much screeching and the sound of chairs scraping on the floorboards. Jack wrinkled his nose and ignored them, just like he’d done since we were kids.
“Your fan club doesn’t age,” I grumbled and saw his lips lift in a smirk. It wasn’t a great surprise. With a Māori mother and a Pākehā father, Jack Saint Senior’s children looked like demi-gods with olive skin and black hair. Jack and his younger brother Alan could pass for models although both avoided the limelight. Jack became a police officer and Alan joined the army; each escaping the Saint regime the only way they knew how.
“Pity,” Jack mused. “I’m no more into jail bait than I was then.” He lifted his right arm to scratch his nose and I saw the black cast covering his wrist and forearm.
“What happened?”
He winced. “Fell trying to restrain a drunk teenage girl. Hit my bloody wrist on a low wall and gave myself a green-stick fracture.”
“Ouch, sorry.” I grinned and jerked my head backwards towards his entourage, who’d moved closer to counteract my proximity to the object of their desire. “Hence the distaste for giggling girlies.”
Jack nodded. “Pretty much all the female population gets on my nerves at the moment.”
My heart sank and I stared at him with wariness in my eyes. “Would you rather be on your own?” I glanced at the sideline where my father waved his arms and pitched forward and back in his wheelchair, wishing I’d stuck to my decision and stayed away.
“Present company not included,” he said, his dark eyes raking my face. “You’ve never been like other girls,” he mused. “You’re different.”
Nodding, I focussed on the game, understanding his comment. Jack and I shared a complicated dynamic and always would. He felt like my brother but at the same time, my soul mate. He sneaked under my skin and I his, able to bless and wound each other in equal measure. When he married a girl from my class at the age of seventeen, my heart shattered into a million pieces and I’d eaten myself into a human marshmallow. “How is Lacey?” I asked as the words followed on from my torturous thoughts.
Jack looked at me with a frown. “No idea, Ula,” he replied, using his pet name for me.
I shook my head in confusion. “Sorry, I don’t understand.”
He studied me for a moment as I watched Uncle Terry scrape my father off the pitch and seat him back in his chair. The referee approached in his bright yellow shirt and jabbed his finger into Dad’s personal space. “What’s that about?”
“The ref called advantage and Jordie disagreed,” Jack said, still boring a hole into my right cheek. “As usual.”
I nodded, avoiding Jack’s gaze, feeling as though I’d missed an important birthday and couldn’t worm my guilty way out of trouble. I knew he’d sensed my discomfort when his hand snaked around my shoulder and pulled me into his armpit. I exhaled and relaxed, his familiar scent wafting over my jarred nerves. “It’s not like you’ve had nothing of your own happening,” he said, his voice low. “Lacey left me, Ula. Happened a couple of months ago.” A vein twitched in his left cheek as he spoke. “She’s pregnant by some other guy.”
“I’m so sorry,” I breathed. “I really am, Jack.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Me an all.” He left his good arm around my shoulder, oblivious to the silent rage of the teenagers and the myriad eyes watching from the club house.
Jack formed an unwitting rearguard as we watched the All Saints second eleven win their first game of the season. The referee kept control of the temperature which hiked in the last half as the opposition tasted defeat and didn’t like it. A winger received a red card and an early shower after going in for a dangerous tackle with his studs up. The All Saints player wiped from the pitch with an ankle injury cried tears of pain and anger as he sat on the grass next to Dad’s wheelchair with an ice pack on his bare flesh. The mood turned nasty, not helped by my father’s lusty voice as he incited a riot and by the time the final whistle came, the opposition supporters left without daring to enter the club house for the after match refreshments waiting for them.
“He’s being assessed.” Paul Saint’s voice cut through my thoughts as I watched the opposition supporters clear up their deckchairs and make their way to the car park.
“Pardon?” I left my body leaning against Jack as I glanced sideways towards the voice. “Who is?”
“The ref.” Paulie eyed Jack’s olive fingers curling a lock of my hair and furrowed his brow. “Over there under the trees. There’s a group of them turned up for the second half.”
I looked to where his finger pointed and saw a knot of males standing together on the furthest edge of the grounds. To their left a man stood alone with a clip board and the referee and his two assistants made a beeline for him, their flags flapping in the breeze. I shrugged. “So what? The ref played it fair. I thought he was good.” I looked up at Jack for confirmation but he kept his eyes directed at the knot of males and I stared at the underside of his chin for a second before looking back at Paulie. “Didn’t you?”
“He was ok,” my cousin replied, agitated by Jack’s presence. Paulie leaned across me, his shoulder brushing my temple as he spoke to Jack. “Yer dad’s looking for you,” he said, his eyes hard.
“I’ve got eyes in my head,” Jack replied, protecting my face with his outstretched hand. “Watch Ursula.” Narrowing his eyes, Jack’s face adopted a hardness which I associated with his work. He took a step back, pulling me with him before turning and brushing Paulie’s chin with his shoulder as he moved me through the doors and into the club house.
“What’s with all the macho stuff?” I asked as Jack pushed me ahead of him past the bar and into the corridor beyond. I glanced back and saw Paulie giving us acid stares from the balcony.
“You don’t wanna know,” Jack sighed and slipped his arm around my shoulder again. “Take me for a drink.”
“The bar’s back there,” I giggled but he wouldn’t let me turn, propelling me onwards to the exit. I popped through the front doors and onto the steps without looking and ran with a smack into a hard chest. For a second it winded me and strong hands gripped my wrist to stop me pitching down the concrete stairs to ground level.
“Sorry!” I gushed, my chest hurting as I fought to catch my breath. I looked up into Teina Fox’s dark eyes and felt my words abandon me. Four other men stood behind him on the stairs as though queuing to collect an award and I gulped and recognised them as referees I’d seen at other games. I shook Teina’s grip off my wrists and moved past the knot of men, skipping down the stairs with a haste which promised greater disaster. Jack nodded to Teina and followed me, catching up outside the building.
“Wait up!” he said, striding after me and catching hold of my hand. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing!” I sna
pped. “I’m fine.”
“Where d’ya wanna go?” Jack asked, his eyes searching my face. He wrestled car keys from his front pocket, struggling against the plaster cast and dangled them in front of my face. “You can drive.”
I took the keys with a shrug and headed towards the car park, peering in the windows of the downstairs hall as we skirted the building. “You didn’t come to the wedding,” I stated, my tone accusing and Jack held up his cast.
“Too busy getting plastered,” he said with a smirk.
“Yeah, well I missed you.” My tone sounded cross. If Jack had been there like he promised, I wouldn’t have gone outside with Mark Lambie, met Teina or done something I might live to regret. Still might live to regret. I bit my lip and tried to forget how much fun we’d had and the ache it induced between my thighs which took until Tuesday to heal. I groaned with exasperation. As soon as I felt repentant enough to brave church, a dirty thought about Teina ruined it.
“What’s with you?” Jack pressed, his beautiful face creased in concentration. “Something’s wrong.”
“Just get in the car!” I snatched the keys and deactivated the central locking on his station wagon and he grinned and clambered into the passenger side.
“Ursula.” Terry Saint’s voice sent a shiver of fear down my spine which felt like icy water. I turned and pushed my bum against the car boot as he approached me, his gait slow and wary.
“Touch me again and I’ll scream,” I threatened, holding my hand out in front of me. “Jack’s in the car. I only have to shout him.”
“Don’t be stupid!” he snapped. “I won’t hurt ya. It was a spur of the moment thing and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to happen but the things you said about Pete; he’s dead, Ursula. Let it go, please?”
