Versace Sisters

by Cate Kendall

  Out on the patio, Sera's mobile trilled from the table. Tony glanced at the caller ID. 'Whoops, better take this in quick smart: it's Bella.' He hurried it inside to his wife.

  'Darling!' Sera squealed into the phone when Tony handed it to her. 'Guess where we are? We're having the most delightful time at Jacqueline's! I'm so glad you called. I wanted to ask you . . .'

  Tony returned to the terrace and sat opposite Sam and Chantrea. 'Glad we didn't miss that call, let me tell you!'

  'They're very close, are they?' Sam said.

  'Thick as thieves, mate. Bella's really been Sera's rock, you know, her whole life. I thought I was going out with both of them for a while there in the beginning. When Bella's husband was away, Sera would insist Bella join us on every date.'

  'God, what a nightmare, having big sister chaperone you,' Sam said.

  'Yeah, it was a bit weird in the beginning. Every time I asked Sera a question she'd look at Bella when she answered, like she needed her approval,' Tony explained. 'But they had a pretty rough upbringing, you know. Bella practically raised Sera. Their parents were never there, the house was always filthy and life was pretty chaotic.'

  'That explains a lot about Bella the clean-freak,' Chantrea said, 'and why she goes to so much effort to make sure everything is just so.'

  'I think she's got Obsessive Compulsive Disorder,' Tony admitted. 'I thought she was just a snob when I first met her, but it's more that she's uptight and hard on herself, not everyone around her.'

  'Are they still so dependent on each other?' Sam asked.

  'It's different now. Bella's been really distant lately; she doesn't come to Sydney often these days. She says it's because of her roster, but I reckon she's trying to give Sera some space to be her own person. Also, I don't think Bella's marriage is going too well. You know Curtis, Chantrea. What do you think?'

  Chantrea's looked down uneasily. 'Um, I don't really know what's up with him. I don't like to say anything, but he hasn't got a shining reputation, if you know what I mean,' she said.

  'That's awful,' said Tony. 'Poor Bella, she deserves better. She's great, Sam,' he tried to explain. 'She remembers birthdays, she sends gifts for no reason, she calls just when Sera needs her and she's very sweet with the kids. Oh, and did I mention she's outrageously gorgeous with legs that go on forever?'

  'Settle down, tiger!' Chantrea said, smiling. 'It's true though, she is.'

  'Then I hope things work out for her,' said Sam gallantly. 'She sounds like she could use a break.'

  ~ 18 ~

  'Oh damn!' Sera leaned forward and checked her reflection in the mirror. She wiped away an errant streak of chocolate icing that ran from her eye across her cheekbone.

  Bella was finally going to be in town today and Sera was determined that everything would be perfect. The children would be little angels, the picnic would be worthy of a Donna Hay shoot and she would look every bit as groomed and gorgeous as her perfect older sister.

  Because Joan's erratic schedule couldn't guarantee they would have any privacy, Sera had made the zany suggestion of a winter picnic in the Botanic Gardens.

  'A picnic?' Bella had said on the phone from the other side of the world. 'Why?'

  'Because it'll be fun and besides the kids will love it,' Sera had responded.

  'Oh, the kids, yes . . . of course,' Bella said with the air of someone who had the freedom to float across the globe on a whim. Of course she loved Sera, her brothers and her many nieces and nephews, but rather than hovering and become an irritating know-it-all childless aunt, she'd cut herself free, indulging in brief visits and generous gifts instead.

  The lifestyle she'd chosen afforded her a degree of self-protection, too. If she was always on the move, she'd never have to put down roots or make a nest; she'd never risk making another huge mistake. The world's best hotels were home enough for her.

  The day of the picnic began with Sydney's customary pale blue sky, which later darkened to a richer blue. The clouds went to Melbourne, the wind to Adelaide and the rain spent the day in its favourite place, Hobart.

  Sera had been in a styling frenzy all morning. Everything had to be just right. It had taken her an hour to prepare the children's outfits alone.

  For herself, she'd finally settled on black leggings and the bright yellow dress she'd bought last week. She spent ages blow-drying her hair, curling it, then straightening it again. She applied her full work-day make-up, and finished with a liberal dusting of bronzer for that natural glow. With her enormous black Miu Miu bag slung over her arm, she almost felt good enough.

  Downstairs, she finished icing the chocolate cupcakes and packed put her lime-zest aioli into an old coffee container. The chook had roasted nicely, she saw to her satisfaction as she wrapped it in foil, and the coleslaw she'd picked up from Essential Ingredients looked tempting.

  The children were whizzing around the house, beside themselves with excitement about seeing Aunty Bella. She always brought the best presents.

  *

  Bella was already sitting on a park bench under a tree when they arrived. She looked stunning in her tan canvas pants and white Abercrombie and Fitch polo top with a pink and white rugby jumper slung around her shoulders. Her hair was pulled back into a long blonde ponytail, straightened with such precision that she must have had it done at a drycleaners. Even her white Dunlop Volleys looked elegant. As Sera drew closer she watched her sister methodically check her watch and mobile three times each, and her hair twice. She's so perfect, Sera thought to herself. Why can't she just relax?

  'Darling,' Bella stood and gave her sister a warm hug. 'So good to see you. You look wonderful.'

  'Thanks, Bella,' replied Sera. She wanted to return the compliment, but telling Bella she looked good was like telling Stephen Hawking he's clever.

  'Hello, Bella,' the children shyly chorused.

  'Hello, Madeline, hello, Harry. I have presents for you.'

  The kids squealed in excitement and ripped into the parcels. The excitement quickly turned into confusion, and Harry looked up enquiringly from the white jeans to his aunt. Then his little face broke into a sunny smile of approval. 'Yay, jeans! They're cool ones. I put on now?' He struggled out of his perfectly matching Gap navy-and-white striped trousers and pulled the white Calvins on.

  'White jeans for a three-year-old boy, Bella?' Sera asked, as Harry wandered over to the picnic basket in search of a snack. Bella's occasional blind spot about child-rearing never failed to give Sera a smug glow of satisfaction.

  'What?' Bella asked. 'He likes them.' She didn't care that they had a lifespan of two minutes. Her nephew loved them.

  'Uh-oh,' came a little voice. A ripped packet of Twisties was spilling all over Harry and his snow-white jeans. He rubbed the orange crumbs into his thighs and ran off to climb a tree.

  'Thanks so much, Aunty Bella,' said Madeline. 'It's wonderful.' Her Swarovski crystal swan glittered in the sunlight.

  'Oh my God, you'll break it,' Sera said immediately.

  'No, I won't,' came the obstinate reply.

  'Let me mind it,' Sera said.

  'No!' Maddy insisted.

  Sera shook her head and looked at Bella. 'Crystal, Bella?'

  'What?' Bella repeated, smiling at her niece's obvious enjoyment.

  'They're wonderful presents, thanks for thinking of them,' Sera said, not wanting to sound ungrateful. She was a tad disappointed, however, that there was no expensive overseas gift for her. 'So how's jet-setting all over the globe? Still fun?'

  'Lifestyles of the rich and famous, that's me all right,' Bella replied sarcastically. 'You've been there, you know it's not what it's cracked up to be.'

  'I only did it for a year. The Hobart–Melbourne leg was not what I would call exotic. I love your world: lingerie in Milan, hairstylist in LA, perfumery in New York.'

  'It's not really your one-stop shop, is it? Sometimes I would just like to go to Bondi Westfield like you and get it all at once.'

  'Yeah! Good
one, swap all that for Westfield.' Sera was painfully aware that evil green fingers were snaking around her throat. She changed her tone. 'I guess you're right. Having kids might put the brakes on your career but we have so much fun together. I'm really enjoying them at the moment. They really complete me.'

  Sera knew she was being bitchy, she knew it was completely unfair to throw Bella's childlessness into her face, but she desperately wanted to have something – anything – that her perfect sister didn't.

  Her smug smile faded as a squeal shattered the calm of the gardens. 'Muuum,' Harry shrieked. 'Maddy's hurting me, she pushed me over,'

  'He started it,' came Maddy's swift defence. 'He wrecked my crystal swan's fairy garden.'

  'Did not!'

  'He flicked a dead bird into it.'

  'She's a liar!'

  'Mum, did you hear that?'

  Sera smiled at Bella. 'You get used to it,' she said, in what she hoped was a serene manner. 'I've just learned to ignore it.' Another piercing cry sent the ducks flapping away from their peaceful float. 'Actually, they're never like this. I don't know what's gotten into them,' Sera said, while her left eyebrow began to twitch. 'Just ignore it.'

  'Oh, I'm ignoring it,' Bella said and plucked a grape from a Tupperware container.

  'Have you spoken to Mum lately?' Sera asked. The lapsed communication with her Tassie family left Sera with a sense of guilty relief. She was glad she hadn't had to deal with her mother's whiny neediness lately but still felt bad for not being in contact.

  'Yes, she rang last week when I was in Rome,' Bella said with a groan.

  She didn't ring me, Sera thought, then instantly chastised herself for being so foolish. Silence from her mother was what she wanted.

  'Oh, yes, what did she want?' she asked.

  'She wanted me to go online and top up her TAB account because she was on a "sure thing" in Dapto.'

  'You can't be serious,' Sera exclaimed. 'I hope you didn't do it!'

  'What could I do? I tried turning her down but she ran the whole "You never come and visit" guilt trip on me and fifty bucks seemed like a cheap way to get off the phone.'

  'I'm glad she didn't call me, I would have ended up in a fight with her.'

  'That's probably why she didn't call you,' Bella said.

  'Yeah, and also I never returned her call from a month ago. How's Dad, has he found work yet?'

  'No, apparently his back's gone out again. He didn't sound too perturbed about it.'

  Suddenly their conversation was interrupted by an an ear-splitting scream from Maddy.

  'RIGHT! That's it!' Sera leapt up and screeched in her best fishwife voice, 'I can't believe you two! Wait till I tell your father.' She marched behind the picnic and off across the grass. 'I've had it up to here with this behaviour! The one time I ask you both to behave –' Her voice reached a strangled squawk as she rounded the tree and found the two children in a garden bed, mid-wrestle.

  'I don't care who started it; you're both old enough to know better. Harry, look at those new jeans! Ruined!' She looked at the two mucky children in exasperation and pointed a finger. 'This is your last warning. I swear to God I am going to kill you both with my bare hands if you don't stop wrestling each other.'

  Sera returned to Bella, shaking her head in disappointment at her own behaviour. Her happy-family veneer had slipped and shown the ugly chipboard beneath.

  'Kids will be kids, don't worry about it,' Bella said, trying to reassure her sister. 'White King will get the dirt stains out of the jeans.'

  Sera munched on a sandwich and stared out sulkily into the distance. A couple walked past hand in hand, giggling inanely at each other's every word. She wore a mini-skirt. He thought she was beautiful.

  'God, I hate it sometimes,' Sera said.

  'Hate what?' Bella asked.

  'Everything.'

  'Oh, don't be like that, Sera, you've got a wonderful life.'

  'If it's so wonderful, why do I feel so miserable?'

  'Well, tell me about it,' Bella offered.

  'Bloody Joan's driving me up the wall,' Sera began.

  'Yes, I could see the writing on the wall there,' admitted Bella. 'It was always risky moving in with the monster-in-law, especially one so fiercely devoted to her precious only child. What's she done now?'

  'Oh, it'll sound pathetic but it's the doona covers . . .' And Sera launched into the sad and sorry tale of textiles and fabric swatches; poly-blend and Best and Less. 'I just wish I could be you sometimes, Bella,' Sera blurted out when she was finished. 'Just floating around the world from city to city, cocktail bars and rockstar parties, duty-free, carefree, fat-free – you've just got it made and here I am, trapped. Trapped in the drudgery of which freaking dishwashing liquid to buy. Drop kids off, pick kids up, go to work, come home from work, supermarket, farmers' market . . . it's so bloody boring I could scream but I have to do it because I'm trapped.' She stopped for a breath. Her self-pity threatened to overwhelm her.

  When Bella didn't leap to her aid with a hug like she usually did, Sera looked up. Bella was glowering at her.

  'How dare you?!' she said.

  Sera's eyes widened: this wasn't the tea and sympathy she had been expecting.

  'How bloody dare you?! You wouldn't have a clue about my life, not a single clue.'

  'Well, I sort of do, don't I?' Sera said in a little voice. 'I mean you do travel to lovely places quite a bit.'

  'My God, Sera, you have got it all. You have a wonderful husband, a house most people would kill for, a great job in an industry you've always claimed to love and you've got two healthy, amazing children. How can you sit there and complain?'

  'Well, it's not all beer and skittles,' Sera said, her bottom lip trembling, 'not like your job.'

  'Sera, my job is bloody hard work. You try dealing with spoilt brats day in and day out, putting them to bed, feeding them, helping them get over their every tantrum. And I'm talking about grown-ups. I'll tell you right now, your two kids have got nothing on fourteen first-class passengers – all of whom make sure I know I'm well beneath them.'

  'Well, yes, I guess that's a bit annoying –'

  'Thanks to a decade-and-a-half of international travel my periods are completely shot and I have constant jet lag. No matter how hard I try I cannot keep the fluids up to stop the dehydration and have to constantly take fibre to stop my body from bloating till it explodes like a dead seal in the sun.'

  'Oh,' said Sera. 'I hadn't thought of that.'

  'I don't have a true home or family thanks to having equal time in almost every time zone in the world; the closest relationships I have are with the crew I happen to be working with and even that changes every flight.'

  'What about Curtis, surely you see him a lot?'

  'Curtis left me three months ago, Sera.'

  'Bella! Why didn't you tell me?' Sera was shocked.

  'Because, quite frankly, every time I call you have so many concerns of your own I don't like to bother you.'

  'Oh darling Bella, I'm so sorry, I am so very sorry.' Sera reached out to put her hand on Bella's shoulder but it was immediately shrugged off. She should have known – it was fairly obvious, the slime-ball had even hit on her once. Perhaps she should have told Bella after all. 'What happened?'

  'Oh, he had an affair. Well, he had several, if truth be told. I was just too stupid to see them.'

  'Bloody hell, Bella! You poor thing.' Sera stared at her sister in disbelief. The poor woman, and all this time she'd been bottling it up inside. 'You're not stupid, you're just loyal. You just wanted to believe in true love.'

  'I was stupid. I married too young. I really jumped from the frying pan into the fire, didn't I?'

  Sera reached out for her sister's hand as thoughts of their home life came flooding into her mind like a cloud descending on the sunny day. She remembered the yelling; the boys wrestling and punching, their parents fighting, her mother whingeing and moaning, never happy with any thing. She remembered the overpowerin
g smell of cigarette smoke. It was all so depressing; the shredded curtains, broken furniture . . . and the noise, so much noise all the time. Noise. She snapped back to the present. Noise. Where's the noise? She stood.

  Bella looked up from her own reverie. 'What's wrong?'

  'No noise,' Sera said in a tight voice. She ran back to the lawn where she'd last seen the children. Maddy was scratching out a picture of her swan in the dirt with a stick. She looked up at her mother.

  'Mummy, I love my swan sooo much, look – '

  Sera interrupted her daughter. 'Maddy, where's Harry?'

  'Dunno,' she said.

  'HARRY!' Sera yelled. 'HAAARRY!' She ran forward two steps. She looked to her left: Macquarie Street was a dangerous road, should she run there first? She looked behind her: the lake. He couldn't have gone around past them, could he? She'd have heard the splash . . . wouldn't she? Or would she? She looked to her right: half a kilometre away she knew a sheer twenty-foot-drop was fenced off, but since when did a fence stop her little climbing monkey? A feeling of panic began to engulf her.

  ~ 19 ~

  Chantrea was early – a whole day early. Sally would be so thrilled, she thought, as she jumped out of her VW and rushed into Babyface Childcare, bubbling with the anticipation of sharing a stolen day with her little girl.

  After the parent–teacher interview, she had lain awake in bed thinking of how much she wanted to give Sally to ensure she had a childhood different from her own. But Chantrea missed her so much when she was at work and she knew Sally would prefer to play at home some days. She wanted things to change, but she wasn't sure how to start.

  Her mother kept telling her she was crazy for sending Sally to Babyface instead of a community kindergarten; for saving all her money for the fees for a private school when Sally turned six. But Chantrea was steadfast. She had to send Sally to a private school and hold on to their stylish Bondi Junction address – even if it was only a cramped unit. Chantrea was sure her address helped get Sally invited to the best kids' parties.

  Although other mothers were generally polite, Chantrea often felt like she was the token Asian at coffee mornings. But she didn't care. Sally was making friends, she was accepted and nobody knew her history. Her world was in order; except for the nagging feeling that she and Sally were missing out on something deeper and more important: time together.