“Of course. I’ll do some drawings to show you next week… or I can always call and we can meet up. Have a coffee or something?”
“No. Next week is fine.” I stand up and turn to leave, but I pause.
“Thanks, Braden,” I say over my shoulder and then head home.
Forty-Two
The next week, Braden has pages of phoenixes drawn for me.
“Wow, you’ve really been working hard on this,” I comment as I go through the images. They’re all beautiful and very similar to what I asked of him. Although, some are more detailed than others. A few pages in, I find it. “This one.” I tap the page. “This is exactly what I imagined.”
“Done,” he says quietly, taking the sketch pad off me and looking more closely at his drawing. “I think a phoenix is really fitting Paige. Because you made it out. You’ve turned your life around.”
I shake my head minutely as a coldness seeps into my heart, sending me rigid and making my pain stab at my insides. “The phoenix has nothing to do with me, Braden. It’s for my daughter.”
“I didn’t realise you have a daughter.”
“I don’t. She’s dead.”
“Oh God. I’m so—”
“Just do the tattoo, OK? That’s all I need from you.” I can’t hear his sorry.
He nods. “When do you want to start?”
“As soon as possible.”
Forty-Three
It takes over a month of work and healing to get the tattoo complete. We work on it after hours so it doesn’t get in the way of Braden’s paying customers.
While he works, we talk. Sometimes it’s just general chit chat. Sometimes it’s more serious. But it’s different to therapy. It’s different to meetings. It’s two people with a shared experience, finding a way to get over it.
“How did you end up living out west?” I ask him.
“I got so hooked on heroin that I qualified for the methadone program in St Marys. I stayed in a group home for a while and fought really hard to get off the stuff completely. Sally, my sponsor, has been really great. He’s helped me a lot. But, I met a lot of people who weren’t so lucky. They just moved from heroin to methadone and never got off it.”
“Your sponsor’s name is Sally?”
“Yeah,” he laughs. “You’ve seen him before. He’s the guy with the big black beard and the shaved head.”
“Really? I never would have picked him for a ‘Sally’,” I comment, laughing to myself.
As the days wear on, Braden tells me about his life and how he got involved with Reggie.
“I was buying more than I could afford, and to work off my debt, he took me on as a dealer and his sometime… um… companion. I’m sure you know by now that Reggie likes it every way there is. He didn’t have a big group of girls back then. He had one or two that stayed with him and everyone else got a call whenever he wanted to party. Anyway, after a while, I started recruiting new dealers, and I bragged that I could get anything I wanted—a really stupid thing to say around a guy like Reggie, but I was high, and I wasn’t really thinking.
“He told me to find him a girl. One that no one would miss. He needed to increase his stock levels. So I started paying attention to the girls who slept around a lot. The girls who always seemed to be on something, or seemed really lonely… lost… I’d take them home and play the gentleman, then tell them I knew a guy who would treat them well and give them anything they wanted. Then I’d hand them over.”
I have my back to him as he works on my tattoo, so I can’t see his face as he speaks. But, the air around us is completely sombre, and so filled with regret that I close my eyes to gather some strength before speaking. “So you’re the reason for Reggie’s girls?”
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “And I’m going to rot in hell for it.”
He pauses in his work, so I take the opportunity to turn and face him. “I’m pretty sure this is hell, Braden. Living with what we’ve done. This is hell.”
“What did you do that’s so terrible, Paige?”
“Everything. I did absolutely everything I was told to do. And then some.”
Forty-Four
The tattoo is finally complete and properly healed. I’ve seen it in the mirror. But Braden is at my flat, taking photos of it so I can see it all properly. It really is something, a real work of art.
“It’s wonderful, Braden. It’s like she’s holding me,” I whisper, looking at the images of the phoenix on my back.
I trace the image with my fingertips as I study the intricacies of the design. The flames erupt out of my lower back as the phoenix rises with its beak open as it calls out over my right shoulder, its wings outstretched. One wing reaches up over my left shoulder and the other, down around to my ribs on the right. It’s as if it’s hugging itself around me protectively. My baby. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you, but I’ll carry you with me always. The phoenix's tail feathers fan out near the flames, curving around my body until they reach my hip bone in swirls of yellow, orange and red.
“I love it. It’s better than I imagined,” I tell him in a whisper, still focusing on the images.
“Will you tell me about her? About your daughter?” Braden asks as he moves to sit beside me.
I continue to stare at the pictures as tears drop quietly from my eyes, then I clear my throat. I’m ready. “She um, didn’t even to get to breathe. I didn’t know I was pregnant. I was just so caught up in the drugs and that stupid lifestyle he gave us. I didn’t even notice.”
“Was she Reggie’s?”
“Who knows? But she was mine, and I didn’t protect her. I was even worse than my own mother. I ruined her before she was even born. She didn’t have a chance.”
“What was her name?”
“Phoenix. Her name was Phoenix,” I tell him, wiping at my eyes and taking a deep breath. “That’s the whole meaning of the tattoo. I want to remember her always. I want to carry her with me.”
“Like your cross to bear.”
“Exactly. She was innocent. She was perfect. And I destroyed her.”
Forty-Five
Five
Four years later. Still sober.
“How does it feel to be a fully-fledged hairdresser?” Tina asks when my apprenticeship is finally complete. She’s taking me out to dinner to celebrate.
“It feels great. I’m actually really proud of myself,” I tell her, leaning forward to sip on my coke through the red straw. I haven’t gone to that many restaurants in the past few years, so it’s kind of nice to be in one.
“You should be proud. You’re wonderful at your job.”
I smile and think about how much my life has changed since my stay in rehab. Without the encouragement and support of my boss, Tina, and my caseworker, Justine. I don’t know that I would have made it this far.
I’m proud to say I’m what’s called a ‘functioning member of society’. I have a job. I have a handful of friends, and I have a home. It’s a rented one, but I got it off my own merits, it’s not a government subsidised one anymore.
I moved out of the flat in Lemongrove, and into a new one in Westmead. I needed a change of scenery, and I needed to move away from Braden. While spending time with him when he did my tattoo was therapeutic, the best I could do was not hate him. I still can’t be his friend.
A waiter brings our food to the table and places four dishes between us, each containing different types of Malaysian cuisine. The scent of exotic spices fills my nose and makes my mouth water as I help myself to some rice, and a beef curry.
“I’ll miss seeing you every day,” I say after a while.
“Me too. But you’re new job is with a much bigger salon that will teach you more than I ever could. I’ve loved being your teacher so far, but you have a great talent and you should go out there to learn how to make the most of it,” Tina says. “Besides, Justine is bringing me a new trainee next week. I won’t be on my own for long.” She winks, balancing a large chilli prawn between her chopsticks and pla
cing it in her mouth.
I watch her eating for a moment. I really am going to miss her. But I knew this day would come. Tina’s salon isn’t busy enough to pay two full-time hairdressers, so I needed to start job hunting before I finished my training. In a way, it’s for the best. Me leaving means Tina can train another girl and give her the same chance in life I now have.
Next Monday, I’m starting work at a busy salon in Parramatta. I’m nervous that I won’t be good enough to perform well under the pressure of a constant stream of clients. Tina assures me I’ll do great. But, time will tell.
Forty-Six
“Who’s next?” I ask our salon hand, Tiffany, as I finish taking a client’s payment for her cut and blow dry.
“That guy over there,” she says, indicating a blond man sitting in the chair to the furthest end of the salon. “He’s just after a trim.”
“Great. Thanks.” I grab a black topped stool and slide it down the salon so I’ll be able to use it as I neaten up this client’s hair. Selecting a black salon cape, I shake it out and slide it over his clothing, introducing myself as I do.
“Hi, I’m Paige. What can I do for you today?” I ask, as I secure the clasps behind his neck and smile at him via the mirror. Holy shit.
“Paige.” A grin lights up his features, his blue eyes dancing as they meet mine via our reflections.
“Matthew. I didn’t…I never…” I stammer, completely stunned at his sudden reappearance in my life.
“Never thought you’d see me again?” he finishes for me. “I didn’t either. I can’t believe it’s really you.”
“Um…” My hand flutters up and touches my temple as if there’s a pain there, but I’m just uncomfortable. Seeing Matthew reminds me of so many bad decisions, and I don’t want to think about one of them.
“How are you? How have you been?” he asks, his voice too happy for the cascade of emotions I’m struggling under.
“Um…” I say again. My words seem to evade me, so I turn to the safety of business instead of answering. “What kind of hair cut were you after?”
“Just a trim,” he tells me, watching me intently in the mirror.
My face feels like it’s burning. I’m not sure how to handle this. Never, in a million years, did I think I’d ever see him again. I’m not prepared.
I focus on cutting his hair, doing my best to avoid any sort of eye contact as I work as quickly as I can.
“Won’t you talk to me?” he says after a while.
I glance at him briefly and shake my head. “Not here, Matthew. This is my work.”
“Well, can I meet you later? Talk over dinner or even drinks?”
“I don’t know.”
“Please, Paige. I’d really like to spend some time with you. What time do you get off work?”
“Six.”
“Then I’ll be waiting outside at six.”
I hang back and offer to clean things that don’t need cleaning. I can see Matthew waiting for me outside, and I don’t particularly want to go out there. I wanted to tell him no earlier, but something made me agree. There’s something about him that clouds my judgement, the same as it did all those years ago. I’ve made enough stupid decisions to last me a lifetime. I’m hoping that if I stay inside long enough, he’ll get bored and leave.
“Paige. Out,” my boss orders, his hand on the door. “You’ve worked enough for the day. I’ve got paperwork to do. Go and have some fun or something.”
“I can help you with your paperwork if you like,” I offer.
“There’s no need. Get some sleep, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Alright,” I concede, as I reluctantly pick up my bag and head outside.
Matthew walks over to me immediately, his hands in the pockets of his beaten up brown leather jacket. “I thought you were trying to stand me up.” He grins.
“No such luck,” I deadpan back at him.
“So, where to? You hungry?”
“Coffee will be fine. We can talk just fine over coffee,” I tell him.
Nodding his head, he walks beside me until we reach a café and go inside. “What’ll it be?” he asks as we head to the counter.
“Just get yours. I’ll order my own.”
“No, I insist. I’ll pay.”
I open my mouth to protest, but when I meet his eyes, my mind goes blank. Looking into his eyes is like watching someone see into my soul. It’s both captivating and painful at the same time. Words escape me, and I simply stand there, staring at him with my mouth still open.
He reaches his hand up and brushes his knuckles against my cheek. “I’m glad there’s no bruising this time,” he whispers.
My eyes try to flutter closed as I lean into his hand involuntarily, but I fight to keep control. I can’t go down this path again.
“Can I help you?” the server asks from behind the counter.
Matthew keeps his eyes locked with mine. “Two strong flat whites please,” he orders.
Getting some sort of power over my own body, I place my hand on his chest and push myself away from him. “No. I’m sorry. I don’t want this,” I babble and make my way out of the coffee shop. I shake my head quickly, it’s as if I’ve just broken the effects of some sort of a spell.
Walking hurriedly, I head for the train station so I can make my way home.
“Paige!” Matthew calls, running after me.
“Just go away, Matthew. I’m not doing this again,” I tell him, as I continue to walk.
“Doing what? We’re just having coffee.”
He falls in step beside me and works his way in front so I’m forced to stop walking.
“Please move,” I say, trying to walk around him. Every time I step to the side, he’s right there with me.
“Talk to me.”
“What do you want from me?” I cry out eventually.
“Isn’t it obvious? I want you.”
“Really? Just like you wanted me all those years ago?”
“Yes. More than that. I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”
“You haven’t stopped thinking about me? Seriously?”
“Of course. Don’t you understand how much I cared about you?”
“If you cared about me, why did you let me leave? You knew I had nowhere to go.”
“I… Paige. I shouldn’t have let you go. I’ve regretted that moment every day since it happened.”
“So have I, Matthew. I regret sleeping with you. I regret giving into whatever it was we had. That moment ruined my life.”
“What do you mean?”
“You have no idea what I went through. If you had cared about me, you never would have pursued me. You never would have slept with your best friend’s girl. I had a chance with Ed, and you pursued me. I had nothing. You knew that. The moment I left that house, my life went to shit. I have been to hell and back again because you wouldn’t leave me the fuck alone.” Anger seethes inside of me as I suddenly see him as the root of all the wrong that’s been done to me. I see that moment with him as the turning point in my life. I can never look at him the same again.
“Hey, I lost Ed too that day.”
“Did you? You lost your best friend? Oh poor, Matthew. Poor, poor, Matthew! Did you lose your home? Did you lose the only person who cared enough to look after you?”
He shakes his head. “I cared. I still care. I looked for you. For months. But I fucked up and lost you. I made a mistake. OK. I know I should have told you to stay. I should have taken care of you. It was my house. Ed’s the one who left. He went back home to his parent’s house, and I haven’t seen him since.”
I can’t help myself, I raise both of my hands up and push hard against his chest. This power comes from inside me that I didn’t know was there, and it sends him stumbling backwards.
“You ruined my life!” I scream. I don’t care that we’re on the street. I don’t care that people can hear me. I don’t even care that I’m being irrational. But hearing him say how he regrets
letting me walk out, breaks me. It’s like he’s holding up a picture of a life I could have had. But he just forgot to give it to me.
He rushes me, wrapping his arms around me as I fight him with everything I have while he pushes me up against the closest wall. “I’m sorry,” he breathes, taking my face in his hands. “I’m sorry.” He presses his lips against mine briefly, before wiping away my tears and planting gentle kisses on my eyes, on my forehead, in my hair. He continues trying to calm me, but I break down. Crying in the street like a woman possessed. I just can’t hold it in anymore.
My knees buckle, and I lean against him, crying into his shoulder as he holds me. He speaks to me softly. But I don’t hear a word. I’m so lost in my own pain right now.
Eventually, I do calm down. We’re now sitting on the footpath, with people walking past us on their way either to, or from, the station.
“What happened to you?” he asks, his voice filled with concern.
I push up from the ground and dust myself off. “No one saved me. That’s what happened.”
Standing beside me, he tries to look into my eyes. Although, I look everywhere but at him. “Let me make it all up to you. I never thought I’d see you again. I feel like fate has intervened somehow and it’s giving us a second chance. We can make this right. I can make this right.”
“I don’t believe in fate, Matthew. We’re not meant to be together. I’m sorry for breaking down on you. I really shouldn’t have done that. I think I just took years of shit out of you, and that was wrong of me.” I step away from him, needing to end this. “I’m going to go now. I don’t want to see you again, so don’t follow me. And please don’t stop me. What we had. It’s gone now. On my side, it’s gone. Just… leave me alone. If you care about me even a little, leave. me. alone.”
Struggle to Forever: a friends to lovers duet Page 84
