Versace Sisters

by Cate Kendall

  'Hello, what's your name?' Sally asked the little girl.

  'Patsy,' the little girl answered shyly.

  'Ter ke/neang yeay tha me?' The girl's grandmother asked Patsy in Khmer what Sally had said.

  'Ke/neang yeay tha sour sdey heay sor chhmous nhom,' Patsy interpreted for her and turned back to explain to Sally. 'My grandmother is on a holiday from Cambodia. She can't talk English.'

  Sally beamed at her new friend, 'This is my grandmother and she is from Cambodia too.'

  The two elderly women smiled at each other and began to chat in Khmer.

  'Mum,' Chantrea called from the shop door, 'they only take cash. Do you have thirty dollars on you? I'll have to go to the bank.'

  Dara Kim turned to pass Chantrea the money as their new friends went back to crossing the road. Patsy waved goodbye just as a bus slowed to pull in at the stop, but to Sally's horror Patsy's grandmother moved to step off the gutter into the path of the vehicle.

  'Te chhoub ian kroung!' Sally shouted shrilly, and the woman pulled her foot back sharply as the bus hissed to a stop, just centimetres in front of her ashen face.

  Chantrea and Dara Kim had watched in shock, frozen in the doorway of the shop. Patsy's grandmother was pale and shaking as she bent to thank Sally in a volley of Khmer. Sally responded, understanding every word the woman said.

  Dara Kim and Chantrea rushed to embrace Sally as Patsy and her grandmother assured them they were fine and made their way towards the pedestrian crossing.

  Sally looked worriedly at her mum. 'Sorry, Mummy, I know you don't like Cambodian talking, so I don't do it when you're around.'

  Chantrea was too shocked to speak. Her child was not only bilingual, but also quick-thinking enough to prevent a tragedy. She looked down at Sally, and something shifted within her. Suddenly she understood everything her mother had tried to tell her about their history – and their future.

  'Darling, I am so proud of you. And you know what? I think I'd like you to help me learn Khmer too.'

  ~ 29 ~

  'Damn!' Bella cursed her own clumsiness as 1A's chutney flipped onto the floor.

  'Oh my, the perfect Bella makes a mistake,' Asif teased as he walked into the galley. 'What could this mean?' He raised an immaculately arched eyebrow and bumped hips with her on his way past.

  'Oh, shut up, Asif.' Bella's comment bounced right off his broad shoulders and he grinned.

  She peeked in the tiny oven to check on the chipolatas. Two more minutes. She stood staring at the storage boxes stacked around the galley. Cups, the label read. Cups. She read it again. Cups. Fucking Curtis! Cups. Nice simple soothing cups. She knew the cups were neat, tidy and organised inside the boxes. Cups. FUCK HIM!

  Although it had been ages since he'd called to announce his engagement, she'd only mailed the signed divorce papers before this morning's LA flight. And she was fine. She was sooo over him. Good luck to him and his new wife. She didn't care. She'd let it all go. Cups. Neat, tidy cups.

  She opened the crate. Yep, there they were, all organised. Nothing out of place. Just like her: together, organised and calm.

  The sizzling chipolatas reclaimed her attention and she plated them artistically, wiping away a minuscule speck on the china and creating a tiny smear, which she wiped again, more vigorously. It seemed to have disappeared, but she wiped again, just to be sure.

  Poor Sera, she was a great mum. And so busy. She tried to keep up with her job, keep her mother-in-law happy, and now the renovation would mean more stress. She should give her a call. She wiped the corner of the plate again, peering at the pristine china for any hint of a streak.

  Maybe she could organise a few days' leave, and whisk Sera and the kids off to for a mini-break at some lovely five-star place in Sydney. A flush of excitement gripped her. She could take the kids to see some city sights, book Sera in for a massage and some pampering; maybe she'd even organise a week of dinners to be delivered while the kitchen was out of order and then she –. Bella abruptly stopped herself. Damn, she thought, I'm doing it again.

  'There's nothing there, my OCD one,' said Asif, bringing Bella out of her reverie with a jolt. 'Just serve the bloody thing, will you?'

  'Oh, right, yes, of course,' Bella murmured and hung the tea towel, neatly folded, onto the rail, then quickly whipped it away and tossed it into the laundry box. 'Oh dear, where's my head? That tea towel has food on it: I could have single-handedly caused a cross-contamination incident.'

  'Oh, Bella,' Asif sighed, now more worried than teasing. 'You've got to let this stuff go a little bit, my darling.'

  Bella ignored him and finally got the chipolatas to her passenger. As she passed the young girl in seat 2A, she stopped to see how she was.

  'Are you having a nice flight, Ruby?' she asked.

  'Yes, thanks. I'm doing a scrapbook of my ballet concert,' the nine-year-old replied. 'See?'

  Bella stepped into Ruby's generous first-class space and sat down on the little seat opposite. 'You're a ballerina, how lovely!' she said and smiled at the photos of Ruby in assorted costumes.

  'Yes, here I am in the mermaid costume, and there's me in the Nutcracker, and look at this one, this is my favourite: I'm a princess.'

  'They're lovely,' Bella said, smiling at the photos. 'Wow, you're all so suntanned, was the concert in summer?'

  'No, that's the fake tan they make you put on.'

  'Surely not,' Bella said in amazement.

  'Yes, my mum wasn't at all happy.' Bella followed Ruby's gaze to where her mother dozed in the seat across the aisle. Ruby dropped her voice: 'I was too embarrassed in the beauty salon to take off my bathers so I had strap marks on my shoulders. I got in so much trouble with Miss Petrice, the ballet teacher.'

  'I hope it didn't spoil the concert for you,' Bella said.

  'No, it's all right. I've stopped now. I'm doing gymnastics instead, which is way more fun. I liked ballet but I didn't like the exams and stuff.'

  'Well, I bet you'll make an even better gymnast,' Bella said, returning the scrapbook and standing to leave.

  'Thanks,' Ruby said, picking up her glue stick.

  Bella smiled at Ruby's bowed head. She rarely found herself bonding with children on flights. She'd cluck over the babies with the rest of the crew, and make sure any young charges were comfortable and happy, but something about this girl really struck her and she had found herself enjoying her company on the long flight.

  She had always thought mothering was all about washing and cooking and had never considered the possibility of actually enjoying a child's company. The thought nagged at her mind the next day as she wandered the chic boutiques of Rodeo Drive. Was it just that there was something special about Ruby or was something changing inside her?

  For the first time, something inside Bella relaxed and she breathed life into a hope, a desire for a future she'd thought she could never have, and in that moment she knew exactly what she wanted in her life.

  ~ 30 ~

  The women walked through to the lounge room. Mallory's house was like an homage to a Big Brother set. Sera loved the teenage feel, which suited Mallory's family perfectly.

  Low macro suede modular suites extended into day beds, flanked by plastic moulded Space furniture pedestal tables. A pinball machine hulked in one corner and a large arcade ski game balanced the room in the other corner. Dolly magazine, Grazia and Cosmo were strewn across the coffee table and the walls boasted signed rock concert posters. A platter of nachos was awaiting the start of tonight's Stitch 'n' Bitch.

  Sera's attention was drawn to a new artwork hanging over the Jetmaster. The metal square framed a series of varying-sized stainless steel circles, all jostling for position. They'd been delicately placed to give the illusion of bubbles floating to the sky.

  'Mallory, I just love your new sculpture,' she said. 'Who's the artist? I haven't seen anything quite like it.'

  'Oh, no artist,' Mallory laughed. 'I just whipped it up one rainy afternoon.'

  'You're kiddin
g. But how?' Sera had always been very impressed with Mallory's artistic flair, but this was a professional looking piece.

  'I just went to the plumbing supplies section at Bunnings, bought some bits and pieces and glued them all together.'

  'But it's so precise and delicate. You've really got an eye for form and placement.'

  'Oh, thanks, just a bit of fun,' Mallory replied, then glanced towards the front door as its chime announced a new arrival. 'Oooh, goody,' she said. 'Our guests are here.'

  Drinks were poured in record time as the group was desperate to hear about Sam's latest efforts on the dating scene. Mallory's thumb was a blur over the keypad of his phone.

  'Oh my God, Sam, she wants to have sex with you!' Mallory squealed.

  'What?' Sam almost choked on his beer. 'How do you get that?' he demanded, leaning over Mallory's shoulder as she deciphered the text he had received from Phoebe after their one-and-only date.

  The Stitch 'n' Bitchers were gathered at Mallory's house for their monthly get-together, but so far all they had managed to achieve was a detailed dissection of Sam's date with the bikini model.

  Rubbing his head self-consciously and blushing bright red, Sam looked to Jacqueline and Chantrea for support and got nothing more than wide-eyed nods of encouragement.

  'Mallory?' said Chantrea. 'What does it say?'

  'Well, the first line here, that's "I loved tonight."' Mallory explained as she pointed at I <3d 2nite. 'See, the less-than sign with the three? That's a love heart on the side, then the "d" that follows puts it in the past tense. Then she writes "4U A3" which everybody knows means "For you anytime, anywhere, anyplace." Obviously she means sex.'

  'Oh, obviously,' Sam said sarcastically, then buried his face in his hand. 'Man, I'm so old, so out of touch.'

  Mallory went on with the cryptic code-cracking. 'Then she says @teotd ur2gtbt, which is "At the end of the day you are too good to be true". Then TMB means –'

  'Yeah, "text me back", I'm not that old, I got that one.'

  'So you're in, buddy.' Mallory grinned at Sam. 'Are you going to follow it up?'

  'I sent back a message saying that I'd had a lovely evening,' he admitted.

  The girls exploded with laughter. Even Jacqueline couldn't hold back a rather unladylike chuckle.

  'Oh jeez, Sam, the horny bikini model says she wants to bonk your brains out and you reply like you've just been out with Gidget,' Chantrea said.

  'I thought I was being gentlemanly and polite!' Sam tried to defend himself.

  'So, did she respond?' Sera asked.

  'Yes. Though I've no idea what she said. Just scroll down, Mallory.'

  Mallory read quickly, then smiled sympathetically at Sam. 'Well, your gentlemanly charm killed the chance of sex. She's put "AYSOS", which means; "are you stupid or something".'

  'Oh shit.' Sam couldn't help it, he threw his head back and laughed as the girls joined in, until they were all gasping and wiping tears from their faces.

  'Dating is so awful,' Sam groaned. 'You have to laugh or you'd cry. And,' he admitted self-consciously, 'there's more.'

  'What?' they all cried.

  'You can't hold back now, Sam,' Mallory said, laughing.

  'No, okay. Well, I did go on another date last week. It was with a woman I was friends with at uni and I ran into her in Oxford Street with the girls on the weekend. She'd heard about Grace and when she said she was also single I asked her out for a curry.'

  'Good work, Sam-the-Man,' Mallory gave him a high-five. 'So?'

  'Well, it all went pear-shaped, so I called it a night and went home.'

  'What?' Chantrea leapt to her feet in indignation. 'Back up, proper details please.'

  'Okay,' Sam relented. 'Well, when she got to the restaurant, I remember thinking she was really overdone. You know, make-up trowelled on, very fussy clothing, and her top was really low and revealing.'

  'Hmmm,' Chantrea said, 'it sounds like she was pretty desperate.'

  'And then she went on and on about her marriage breakup, her failing architectural career . . . even her eczema!'

  'Gross! The rule is no skin disease stories on a first date,' Chantrea said. 'So what was the goodbye like?' she asked.

  'Well,' Sam answered, blushing again, 'that was the worst bit, I went to peck her on the cheek but she turned her face and went the tongue pash!'

  'Ewwwwww!' the women groaned as one.

  'I know, it was dreadful. I think I'll stay home and watch PlaySchool re-runs with the girls in future.'

  *

  Sera basked in the warmth of her friends' conversation and laughter, and for the first time that day felt relaxed and calm. What with the renovation, and taking on extra shifts at Dior to help pay for it, she hadn't had time to catch up with many of her friends since the last Stitch 'n' Bitch and had really been looking forward to the night. And she was so relieved to be getting on better with Bella again. It had shaken her to the core to be scolded like that at the park.

  And it was such a relief to get away from the chaos of her half-renovated house for the evening.

  The group talked long into the night and barely a stitch was dropped, let alone purled. Chantrea briefly touched on her difference of opinion with her mother, opening up a barrage of mother and mother-in-law stories. Mallory regaled the group with the latest gossip on the Jamaican salesman at Vince's Luxury Yacht dealership, dropping hints about the latest socialites seen disappearing with him into the cabin of the luxury cruiser. And Jacqueline informed them of a new technique for tomato stain removal.

  Eventually it was time to head home. As they exchanged air kisses Jacqueline casually remarked, 'Sam, you know your second date? The old friend?'

  'Yes,' Sam said, buttoning his jacket.

  'I'm sure if she'd been less needy she would have held on to her man in the first place. It sounds as if she pushed him away.'

  The other women gaped at Jacqueline, but Sam simply pecked her on the cheek, smiled and said, 'Good night, Jacqueline.'

  ~ 31 ~

  They were shopping for funeral clothes – well, at least Mavis was – and Joan was happy to go along for the trip and get away from the mess and noise of the renovation.

  Mavis wanted a smart burgundy wool blazer for her brother-in-law's wake and Joan was keen to explore Westfield's new orthotic shoe shop, so they parked the car, had a cup of terrible tea in the food court and headed off on their own errands.

  After giving the harried young shop assistant a workout racing to the store-room and back again so she could try on several pairs of shoes, Joan selected a navy blue loafer and a cream mesh lace-up and returned to the mall, satisfied with her purchases.

  Suddenly she recognised the familiar figure of Jacqueline, entering L'Occitane, just up ahead of her. Joan hid behind a large sign hanging in the shop window, but still had a clear view of her neighbour browsing inside the shop.

  A handsome young sales assistant hovered nearby, encouraging Jacqueline to try a new hand cream. Jacqueline gave him a beguiling smile and pointed to a product on the other side of the store. As he turned away, Joan watched as Jacqueline swiftly slid a small bottle of something into her coat pocket.

  The assistant returned with the product she'd requested, but Jacqueline simply glanced at it, shook her head and left the store with a triumphant toss of her hair. Joan noticed the flush of color in Jacqueline's cheeks and the bright smile on her face: she was clearly on a high.

  *

  Jacqueline's heart was pumping as she fingered the perfume bottle in her pocket. She wanted to laugh out loud at her audacity and daring. The thrill buzzed through her body, heat glowed on her face and the back of her neck. She strode quickly away from the shop, wanting to separate herself from the scene as soon as possible. Within a few paces logic kicked in again and she realised she was heading the wrong way. She needed to go back towards David Jones to pick up the boys' school shirts.

  She turned and suddenly her heart banged against her chest. Her breathing shor
tened. Joan was standing right outside L'Occitane. Had she seen her? Had she been caught? No, surely not. Not like this, not by the interfering old bat from next door. Jacqueline sat heavily on a bench in the centre of the mall's wide thoroughfare, her delight evaporating into anxiety.

  Surely Joan wasn't that observant. And as if the old woman would be loitering around spying on her, anyway. No, it was impossible, impossible that anyone would ever find out. They couldn't. She was the perfect one; the Supermum. The One Who Did No Wrong. Shoplifting was such a feral petty crime. So embarrassing.

  But what if she had been seen? What could Joan do? Then it hit her. The ultimate punishment! Her hand went to her feverish cheek as the thought seeped in. Not that. Anything but that. She'd rather go to jail. If Joan had seen her, then Jacqueline Bouvier – the perfect, the saintly, the untarnished Jacqueline Bouvier – could become the subject of neighbourhood gossip!

  ~ 32 ~

  Mallory had the top down and the music up as she whizzed over the bridge, happily singing along to the Veronicas and revelling in the unseasonably warm, spring evening air.

  Her lovely Vince had been so distracted lately. Working back late every night, important phone calls that took him out to the backyard for lengthy conversations – he even worked on Sundays now, the poor love.

  And their sex life had suffered recently, Mallory thought with regret. He'd just been too tired or stressed to indulge in their usual level of feisty, regular and adventurous sex. Mallory couldn't understand why other women whinged about having sex with their husbands – even Sera saw sex as a chore. Mallory shook her head incredulously.

  But tonight's the night, she thought with an excited grin. Vince was working late at the dealership again and she knew he would be alone. She had a basket full of oysters, chocolate, champagne, and UDLs of Jack Daniels and Coke for Vince. She was planning to seduce him at work.

  She pulled her Golf into the parking lot of the pet supplies warehouse next door to the dealership so she could sneak up on him. Under her trench coat she wore red crotchless knickers, a push-up lacy bra and suspender belt.