by Ilsa Evans
‘I have a penis.’
Now that’s a conversational icebreaker. He is staring into my face with the air of someone who has imparted something of great import. I suppose that to him it is – he is a male, after all.
‘Well, isn’t that a lucky break? Now let’s listen to Hairy Maclary from Donaldson’s Dairy – look! My gosh, they’ve just met Scarface Claw, the toughest tom in town!’
‘It’s not a very big one.’
‘Well, I’m sure it’ll grow. Now listen to the book.’
‘But it’s very little.’
‘Do you two need some help over there?’ I leap up to join the junkies in setting up the easels, softening up the play-doh, dragging out the Duplo, and laying out the tables for the various other activities that will take place after story-time. They have already made coffee for the adults, got the trolley ready for morning snack-time and restocked the leaflets in the pamphlet pockets. They head outside to sweep the paths while I sit down to drink my coffee. Hairy Maclary & co having gone straight back home to bed, the children descend on the tables with gusto. That is, all twenty-eight children descend on one table, ignore the others completely, and proceed to bicker noisily over who got there first. Sue sorts them out quickly, and with admirable skill.
I surprise myself by actually enjoying the next forty minutes or so. My main task seems to be assisting various children with their activities while CJ looks on with a beatific smile, informing anybody who looks remotely interested that I am her mummy. My little friend with the little penis also appears to have taken a shine to me. He follows me silently around from table to table until it’s time for me to go. CJ throws herself in the general direction of my thighs and gives me an enormous hug while I explain the new pick-up/play arrangements for after kindergarten today. Whereupon she deserts me entirely and races off to hold hands with Caitlin, no doubt to cement the friendship before they spend the afternoon together. Sue thanks me profusely, the two junkies wave goodbye (they have decided to stay for the whole session), and I am left with genitalia boy by the door.
‘Why don’t you go and play with your friends?’
‘Don’t have none.’
‘Then you really need to make some, don’t you?’ He frowns at this, as if thinking about it for the first time, and I briefly consider giving him some other much-needed advice, like, try to start conversations without using the word penis, or, don’t worry about it so much – it is sure to grow and anyway, it’s not all beer and skittles for the Hercules Morse as big as a horse types in the world either.
Instead I reach down and just give him a big hug.
He immediately hugs me back and then gives me a simply beautiful smile that, when he is older, is sure to melt many, many hearts. Never mind about the size of his penis.
FRIDAY
11.15 am
‘What I can’t understand is why you followed them in the first place. I mean, you spend most of your time avoiding Mum, and certainly Bloody Elizabeth, and then you go and stalk them in your spare time? It doesn’t make any sense.’
‘It didn’t happen like that, it damn well wasn’t planned or anything. Anyway, you could at least sympathise with what happened at the end.’
‘Sympathise! I think it’s hysterical! Well, not for the poor old guy you almost killed, but I would love to have seen Mum’s face. There she is gloating over the fact that her darling daughter’s veterinarian boyfriend is the hero of the moment, and she looks down – and there you are, sprawled all over the floor!’
‘I was not sprawled! It was a bit more dignified than that.’
‘Yeah, I bet! Anyway, it serves you right for not warning me about her getting married again. I mean, I knew she was seeing someone, but I had no idea it was that serious! God, you should have heard her the other day when I gave her a lift to the church from your place. She went on and on and on. I could’ve killed you for not telling me. But I suppose at least it’ll shut her up about the pearly gates fiasco for a while. Until she kills him off, anyway.’
We are sitting in the waiting room at the doctor’s surgery, have been for quite some time, and will continue to do so until the nattily dressed nurse calls out Diane’s name instead of the multitude of others she evidently prefers. I am trying to take Diane’s mind off the impending ultrasound by regaling her with yesterday’s events. We’ve already spent twenty minutes discussing my job, or lack thereof, and then our mother’s impending marriage, which is why I blurted out that I had actually seen the famous Harold. Which reminds me.
‘Diane, did you say that you knew she was seeing someone?’
‘Yes, of course. So did you,’ Diane says as she crosses her legs awkwardly and grimaces. ‘God, I’m absolutely busting to go to the loo.’
‘Well, you can’t. You need a totally full bladder so they can see the baby properly this time.’
‘I know that. It’s just damn uncomfortable, that’s all.’
‘So don’t think about it then. And don’t change the subject. I didn’t know that Mum was seeing someone. I had absolutely no idea at all.’
‘Of course you did! She mentioned her “gentleman friend” several times when we had dinner at her place last month. I think she was hoping someone’d pick up on it and ask her about him.’
‘I don’t remember that. Not at all.’
‘That doesn’t surprise me. You tune out as soon as she opens her mouth.’
‘I do not!’
‘You do so. Your face goes all blank and you don’t take in a word she says.’
‘I still think I’d remember a potential stepfather,’ I mumble defensively as I cast around wildly for a change of subject. ‘Hey! I didn’t tell you my big news the other day. Guess what?’
‘You found a miracle cure for that pimple?’
‘Shut up. Though it is looking better, isn’t it? No, guess again.’
‘Let me see, you stalked someone else as well?’ She starts grinning and I am beginning to wish I hadn’t told her about that little incident now. I’m also very glad that I didn’t mention too much about Phillip.
‘I’m going to start stalking you if you’re not careful.’
‘Well, you’re obviously not very good at it so I don’t think I’ll begin worrying just yet.’
‘Ha bloody ha. No, what I was going to tell you was that I fired my therapist!’
‘About time too.’ Diane gives me a little clap and leans back in her chair.
‘Pardon? You were the one who told me I should talk to someone in the first place!’
‘No, what I said was that I thought you should join a support group – people who understand what you went through with Keith – not see a damn shrink for the rest of your life who is going to cost you an arm and a leg, get you all tied up in knots, and then blame everything on your childhood relationship with your father!’
‘What was wrong with my relationship with Dad?’
‘Oh, don’t be so literal! I just meant that – I don’t know, as I’ve already told you, you just seem so negative nowadays. I would have thought a better way to go was to look for the silver lining, especially if you can’t change things.’
‘Yes, yes. But she did help, you know. Especially in the beginning.’
‘Okay, I’ll take your word for it. But don’t say that I was the one who advised therapy, because I didn’t. The only person I would advise therapy for would be Mum – and then only to get her to shut up about her heavenly harem.’
‘Ah, but now she has – and all because of Harold.’
‘Thank god. Anyway, I never said you needed therapy.’
‘All right, all right! I was sure you thought it was a good idea – maybe it was Terry.’
‘I doubt it, but look, good on you for moving on. You don’t need therapy, you just need to be a bit more, a bit more … just a bit more – you.’
‘A bit more me?’
‘Oh, I hate having to explain myself! I mean, a bit less feeling guilty all the time, and negative –
and a bit more ballsy. Like you used to be, before you started letting that damn bastard walk all over you.’
‘May I remind you that I actually left that damn bastard,’ I say huffily, ‘so I must have stood up for myself at least once.’
‘Don’t take offence! All I meant was that it was like he took some of the stuffing out of you, and you don’t seem to have quite got it all back. You just used to be more, well, strong, gutsy, and able to just sort yourself out.’
‘God! That’s just what Maggie said!’ I am rather amazed; I had half expected a lecture from Diane on me needing some support structures or something. Even though she had said something similar on Wednesday, I still certainly hadn’t expected her to come up with an almost word-for-word copy of what Maggie had to say about me yesterday.
‘You’ve seen Maggie? Alex’s Maggie? I don’t believe this! My god, you have had an eventful week! How is she? I’ve always liked Maggie.’
‘She is absolutely great,’ I grab the opportunity to steer the conversation away from Keith and my gutsiness, or lack thereof, ‘and she looks a million dollars as well. We got on really well – better than I remember even. She’s got a new job.’
‘Really? What’s she up to, then?’
‘She’s a madam.’
‘A what?!’
‘A madam. You know, pleasures of the flesh and all that.’
‘Oh, don’t be ridiculous.’
‘I’m not. I’m fair dinkum. She and Ruby now manage a rather successful brothel in her old house over the other side of Ferntree Gully. You know, the one off Pleasant Avenue.’
‘You’re kidding me.’
‘No, I’m serious. But she prefers to call herself an entrepreneur. She says she really enjoys it, but she doesn’t actually do the work, just runs the show.’
‘I don’t believe this.’
‘Believe it. And you can ask her yourself if you like because she’s coming over for a barbecue on Sunday, lunchtime. Do you guys want to come as well?’
‘It’s winter, you twit. You can’t have a barbecue in winter!’
‘And why not? Just think – no flies, no sweat and hot food will actually be just what you feel like. Anyway, this way I’ll make sure mine is the first of the season.’
‘You are a twit,’ she giggles and then suddenly grasps her stomach tightly and groans, ‘Oh, don’t make me laugh. I’ll wet myself.’
‘And I’ll pretend I don’t know you. So, are you coming or not?’
‘Sure, why not.’ Diane releases her stomach slightly and takes a deep breath. ‘It sounds great, cold but great, and I’d love to catch up with Maggie again. Madam or no madam. I’ll definitely speak to David – oh …’ Diane pauses suddenly and the smile vanishes from her face. ‘Let’s just see what happens here first.’
‘But, hey,’ I try to distract her quickly, ‘what you should really be asking me is why I went to see Maggie.’
‘Okay, why did you go to see Maggie?’
‘Well, I needed to double-check some news I heard from the kids.’ I pause for effect.
‘Okay, what news?’
‘Just some news about Alex.’
‘Look,’ Diane says in a tone of growing irritation, ‘either tell me or don’t.’
‘My, aren’t we testy!’
‘Just tell me,’ she says slowly through clenched teeth.
‘Well, all right – if you insist.’ I grin at her but one quick look at her face tells me I’ve probably pushed my luck as far as it can go. ‘Alex is moving back to Australia.’
‘You’re joking! Whereabouts in Australia?’
‘Victoria.’
‘And whereabouts in Victoria?’
‘Melbourne.’
‘This is like pulling damn teeth! Whereabouts in Melbourne?’
‘Ferntree Gully.’
‘No way!’
‘Yes way. Next door.’
‘Next door to you? Right next door?’
‘Yep, right next door – the house with the vicious chihuahua.’
‘I don’t believe it. Maggie told you this?’
‘She sure did. In fact she put the deposit on the house for him. He doesn’t even know that it’s next door to me yet. He just thinks it’s in the general area.’
‘This is fantastic! I mean, I’d love to see his face when he finds out. But also, won’t it be great for the kids! They must be thrilled!’
‘I’m sure they are.’
‘Oh, but what about you? How do you feel?’
I am saved from answering by the nattily clad nurse who grabs everybody’s attention by emerging from behind her counter and clearing her throat noisily. Every head in the waiting room (and there are an awful lot) immediately swivels in her direction and all conversation ceases as she makes a great show of consulting her clipboard. She takes her sweet time. I bet she is totally downtrodden at home, has a domineering husband and a score of bossy teenagers, and this is her only avenue of power. She runs her finger down the list on the clipboard, taps it several times then frowns slightly … and calls out Diane’s name.
We both jump up before she changes her mind while the others in the waiting room sigh collectively and return to their conversation, magazines or vacant staring out the window.
The nurse gives us both the once-over and then ushers us down a small hallway and into a room filled to the brim with high-tech equipment and a hospital bed. On the bed is one of those white shapeless gowns that insist on showing your posterior no matter what you do.
‘If you would just like to slip into this, the doctor will be with you shortly.’ She pulls the curtain around Diane and the bed, ignores me completely, taps her clipboard several times again and then leaves.
Diane changes quickly and folds her clothes neatly at the foot of the bed. Then we wait, and wait, and wait just a little more. We make a few feeble attempts at picking up our conversation again, but neither one of us is in the mood now. Finally the doctor bustles in, puts a file down on the desk, and bustles out again.
‘Come over here and hold my hand.’ Diane says this in such an odd voice that I bite back the smart crack that I would ordinarily have come out with and pull a chair over next to the bed. We hold hands.
The doctor bustles back in again, blinks vaguely at the pair of us, bangs some more files down, and looks like he is prepared to stay this time. He pulls open the top file and reads through it quickly before sending a broad smile in Diane’s direction.
‘Well, hello again, Mrs Woodmason. We’ll sort this out in a jiffy. And you are?’ He turns to me expectantly, his eyes widening slightly as they flick over our clasped hands.
‘Her life partner,’ I answer with a straight face while Diane chokes suddenly.
‘She is not! She’s my sister!’ She flings my hand away and struggles to sit up.
‘That’s quite all right, Mrs Woodmason. I’m not here to pass judgement. No, not at all. Now lie back down and we’ll see if bubs is going to be a bit more obliging today.’ He pulls Diane’s gown up to reveal her ever-so-slightly swelling stomach, and more of her pubic mound than I had really cared to see. She glares at me but takes my proffered hand again anyway.
The doctor rubs some jelly over her stomach, switches on his monitor and then starts to adjust his machinery. From the side of one of the gadgets he removes a little probe-thing and proceeds to rub it gently over Diane’s abdomen. Immediately an image pops up on the monitor that looks for all the world like a floating grey jellybean. To be even more specific, it looks like a dull black jellybean that has been sucked on by a toddler and then spat out after a couple of minutes. I know because, up until a couple of years ago, I used to have these half-sucked jellies transferred from the couch cushions to the seat of whatever pants I happened to be wearing on a regular basis. The doctor continues to manipulate the probe in silence and then frowns slightly. Diane’s grip is now starting to cut off my blood supply but I’m stoically not going to say anything.
‘Ah, just as I suspected,
’ the doctor says happily at last, his brow clearing as his theory is obviously confirmed. ‘Now you’re a shy one, aren’t you?’
‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ Diane is staring hard at the monitor as if whatever the doctor has just seen is going to magically make itself visible to her as well. And then that’s just what it does. Where two seconds ago only one greyish jellybean had floated at centre stage, now there are two.
‘Oh my god.’
‘Congratulations. I thought it might be twins the other day but I couldn’t be sure, so I thought we’d better have you back. And there you have it.’ He manipulates the probe so that both beans are thrown into sharp focus. And they lose that half-sucked look.
‘Oh my god.’
‘Diane! Twins! That’s just fantastic!’
‘Now you wanted to know the sex the other day, and we told you about the little girl – do you want to know for both of them?’
‘Oh my god.’
‘Yes, she does.’
‘Well, just double what we told you on Monday. There are two lovely little girls. Congratulations to both of you, you’re going to have your hands full.’ The doctor smiles indulgently at each of us in turn as if he has personally bestowed this miracle.
‘So there is absolutely nothing wrong with them?’ I want to have this spelled out for Diane’s sake as she is obviously incapable of rational speech at the moment. ‘They’re just twins, that’s it?’
‘Only twins! What did you want, triplets?’ The doctor smiles benevolently. ‘No, there’s nothing wrong that I can see, perfectly fine little girls. Of course, being twins your doctor will book you in for another ultrasound in a couple of months but until then, stick with the date that I told you on Tuesday.
