‘Next time you girls shoplift,’ Hannah almost spat. ‘I’ll let them throw the book at you.’ And when neither of us stopped giggling, she drily added, ‘Very nice… very nice indeed.’
30. EMMA, Surfers
‘Sacha seems very nice,’ says Laura after dropping the others in their apartment and driving me home.
I wonder what she’d say if she knew only two days ago, Sacha believed he was gay? Or if I mention that last night, we had sex?
I still don’t know how I feel about that. Not that Sash wasn’t a good lover – sweet and caring and asking what I’d like him to do and stuff like that. But I want Abdul, and anyway sex gets in the way of any longterm friendship. If I think back to Sam and Danny, I’m ashamed of myself. Now I’ll tell anyone who comes onto me in a selfish way to get lost. Even Abdul, though I’m sure he wouldn’t. But then, he didn’t turn up to take me to the airport, did he?
If only I didn’t have that overwhelming need for love and acceptance. No wonder Dessi never feels lost. She’s always had her family’s support while I have no one to care for me, except Julie who needs lots of looking after herself. Still…I’ll never choose Sacha as a lover. No, if I want to keep him as a special friend. I just wouldn’t dare let sex mess things up.
Laura pulls up outside the house. Inside, I wander into that wonderful bedroom that could be mine if only I could make up my mind about staying, and change into a bikini. Laura joins me in the pool. I decide to ask her something that’s been bothering me ever since I turned up. ‘How come you can afford all this? Personal Assistants don’t earn that much, do they?’
Laura rolls over and floats on her back. ‘Whatever made you think I was a PA?’
I feel myself flush. ‘Just assumed. What were you?’
Laura smiles. ‘I was in charge of corporate events. Seminars, meetings, interstate conferences.’
I look at her with new respect, dying to ask what salary she’d earned.
‘I’d hit the glass ceiling,’ she continues, ‘reached a certain level in my company and couldn’t seem to get any further. I could see where I wanted to be, but somehow I wasn’t allowed to get there. It’s a bloke thing, I reckon.’
‘I thought women have equal opportunities.’
‘That’s the theory,’ she says brightly.
We both laugh. To my astonishment I find myself almost liking Laura, almost understanding why Dad left Mum for her. I sigh aloud and get a quizzical look. ‘Thought any more about your Dad’s offer, Emma?’
Dad turning up with a stubby saves me replying. ‘Hi, everyone,’ he calls and flops onto a sun lounge. Laura kisses him and goes into the house. ‘Going to stay with us awhile, Emma?’ Dad tries to sound casual, but he doesn’t deceive me. ‘Made up your mind yet?’
‘Dad, I really don’t…’
‘Sorry. Sorry, I know I’m rushing you, aren’t I? Okay. Backing off right now,’ he says quickly.
‘I have to wait and see if I can defer, Dad. And first I have to wait to see if I get in.’
‘When will you know for sure?’
It’s hard meeting his anxious gaze. I fob him off. ‘Not till well into next year.’
He takes a sip of beer. ‘So your drawing took off, did it?’
I frown. How come he still calls it ‘drawing’?
‘You could do something like that up here, you know. We’re going to need fliers and advertising material, some ideas for colour schemes for the boat and…’
‘Actually,’ I say dryly, ‘these days I’m more into collage and sculpture.’
No point, I realise. He just looks confused. The more I say, the more bewildered he seems. Now something I’ve been dying to ask, ‘Dad, that wasn‘t your boat today, was it?’
He shrugs, but there’s a touch of pride too. ‘We’re negotiating at the moment. But it’s pretty much set in place. That young bloke – what was his name, the one you were with? Sacha. He asked me for a job.’
‘Yeah?’ My heart hiccups but I keep a stony face. ‘None of my business.’
Dad stares at me and frowns. ‘Why are you so…so antsy these days, Emma? What’s wrong?’
He might be my father but he just doesn’t get it. He has no idea about the predicament Sacha’s put me in. Why couldn’t he have waited for me to ask? As I promised… as I really did intend...
Right now I feel as if my whole life is being turned around. Why are all the men I know so difficult? On top of all this there’s Abdul. Why was he so distant? His voice sounded so… so neutral. ‘I’m going to have a shower,’ I say quickly.
In my room, after a long hot shower and splashing myself with every moisturiser left on the dresser, I settle in front of the computer. I find Abdul’s business card in my purse. Now I’m emailing, the words are flowing, and I can’t seem to stop…
…and I think about you all the time. Abdul, it’s still okay between us, isn’t it? I don’t want to phone you again because you were so…so distant... I felt really awful when you hung up. Were you busy? Did you have to go out on a call for your business? You can tell me, you know. I’d understand.
I wish you were here with me. In this house. You wouldn’t believe how luxurious it is. And the weather is so warm and balmy. I’m only interested in you, Abdul. I hope you feel the same way about me…
No, I can’t send this. This is crazy. While I’m deleting the email, Laura knocks on my door. ‘You’ve got a visitor, Emma. Sacha.’
Oh shit! I find him on the patio with Dad sucking a stubby as if he belongs there. When I come out, he jumps up and smiles. I glare at him. ‘How did you know where we live?’
He looks momentarily flustered. ‘In the phone book,’ he says. ‘I wanted to talk to your dad about a possible job and…‘
‘Well don’t,’ I snap. ‘Anyway, I told you to wait.’
Dad frowns.
Sacha flushes and sits down abruptly. ‘Your father’s going to give me a trial run on the boat tomorrow and if it works out, he’ll give me a reference for sharing a place.’
‘You’ve got it all worked out, haven’t you?’ I’m openly furious. What right does Sacha have to burst in on me when I expressly told him not to? What right does my father have to employ my friends without first consulting me?
‘Would you like to stay for dinner, Sacha?’ Laura calls out from the kitchen.
‘That would be…’
I round on Sacha. ‘He’s got to go, haven’t you?'
I know I’m being a bitch, but right now I’m too angry to worry about Sacha’s feelings.
‘Thanks for the beer, Rob,’ he says and there is something so dignified in his manner, I feel myself redden.
Dad says, ‘See you down at the wharf in the morning. Eight o’clock sharp. Okay?’
‘Yes sir! I’ll be there.’ He turns sad eyes onto me. ‘Catch you later Emma? Thanks for a great day.’
Dad waits for Sacha to leave before saying, ‘Was all that completely necessary?’
‘All what?’ though I know what he means.
‘You should hear yourself, Emma. Why are you so…spiky? That poor kid…’
‘You don’t know anything about him, Dad,’ I burst out. ‘You don’t know anything about any of us.’
‘Emma, don’t be…’
But I don’t want to listen to him anymore. Didn’t he leave home without asking how I felt about it? Aren’t I deep down still furious with him? So why should I be nice to him, or for that matter, to anyone else? Right now I’m much too angry.
Only Laura announcing dinner is ready calms me down enough to eat. Then I ask Dad to drive me to Broadbeach. When I get in, the flat is empty. I’m wondering why Dessi hasn’t called back, and maybe my cell-phone isn’t taking calls, when it suddenly buzzes...
31. DESSI, Melbourne
Finally, I’ve found enough courage to phone Emma.
‘You mean it?’ she says after I talk awhile, ‘Abdul wasn’t brushing me off?’
‘I don’t think so,’ though each time
I say his name a tingle runs down my spine.
My mind can’t stop racing. How can I keep the truth from someone who knows me almost better than my own mother? What will she do when she finds out? What if she gets so depressed she starts drawing figures with knives sticking out of them? What if I’m responsible for a total breakdown?
Voice smooth as silk I say, ‘Abdul seemed really pleased you’d thought of him…’
Emma audibly gulps. ‘You didn’t pile it on too thick?’
‘No way. It’s just that he was in a business meeting.’
‘Reckon he’s seeing someone else?’
‘Course not.’ I cross my fingers against the lie. ‘Anyway, we didn’t talk much. He’s got this weird phone manner.’
‘You noticed?’
‘Course. Like I said, stop being so insecure. Meeting any men?’
‘Heaps. All jerks.’
‘Oh.’ My heart sinks. ‘How’s Jodie’s bellybutton?’
‘Pitiful. Still on antibiotics. Not supposed to drink.’
‘Poor thing.’ We both laugh.
‘You okay?’
‘Course.’
But something tells me this isn’t quite right. Or maybe it’s my conscience killing me. We’ve never lied to each other before… well, apart from those necessary white lies like ‘No, he seems really keen’ when it’s obvious Danny isn’t. Or ‘That painting is terrific’, when I’m sure she can do better. ‘Sure you’re okay?’
‘Why wouldn’t I be? Stop being my mother.’
‘Funny you mention that. She’s really upset. Why haven’t you phoned?’
‘Haven’t gotten round to it. Anyway, you know what she’s like about Dad and Laura. Don’t want the third degree.’
I picture Emma’s smile, her habit of running her fingers through her thick beige hair, her unexpectedly loud laugh. How weird that while I’m being such a cheat, how very much I miss her. I ask, ‘Having fun?’
‘Sure,’ she says quickly.
‘You’re not getting low?’
‘What do you think?’
‘So…’ I pause. ‘Tell me about Sash.’
She doesn’t answer right off. ‘Not much to say. He’s prowling the gay bars… I keep telling him to be more careful. The last thing he needs is AIDS…’ she chatters on ‘...now Dad’s offered him a job…
My mind drifts. Where will I find another best friend? But what can you do if you fall in love with the wrong person? I once read that falling in love is like getting sick. Right now it’s easy to imagine breaking out in love bites, the only cure the antibiotic of a lover’s kiss. Can you get the love bug so badly you might die from it?
I wake up she’s saying. ‘You’re the one who sounds low. How’s your ankle?’
‘Fine,’ I say quickly. ‘Listen, the best thing ever. Nanna Pearl wants me to go OS with her next summer. We’ll visit London, Paris, Prague and Berlin.’
‘Terrific! What do you have to do?’
‘Not much. Handle her luggage and bookings. Help her onto planes and buses.’
Another ten minutes vanish in discussing this golden opportunity to travel. Graham comes by saying, ‘I need that phone.’ He gives me a legitimate excuse to ring off. As I squat on the floor, Jeremy comes by. ‘Got rid of her?’
Shit! Turd’s been listening in. I go to hit him. He ducks and his grin grows wider. ‘That won’t help when she finds out about Abdul.’
‘Mind your own business,’ I snarl. ‘I don’t listen to you.’
‘I make sure you don’t,’ he calmly points out. But something else is on his mind. ‘Listen sis, do us a favour, huh?’
‘Depends…’
‘If you answer the phone all week, I won’t mention it.’
‘Why? Who you hiding from?’
‘Friday, this stupid thing happened…’ He kicks the skirting board.
‘Come clean!’
‘You know Sienna?’
I look uncertain.
‘You do, you do. Justin and me, we muck around with her.’ This time I nod, though I’m still not quite sure who this is. ‘Well, I wrote ‘suck’ on her bike as a joke. Then Justin wrote F, and told her mum I did it. Now her mum’s going to call our mum. Maybe you can get rid of her?’
I can’t hide a smile. ‘Guess you like this Sienna?’
‘She’s okay,’ he concedes. ‘What are you going to do about Emma?’
Now I really look at him. My little brother is starting to grow up. For the first time I consciously note a cluster of light hair on his upper lip, the squaring of his chin, those arms and legs that keep getting in his way. I say, ‘The thing is…You know what happens to Emma when she gets low.’ He nods. ‘So what would you do if you were me?’
‘If I liked Abdul?’ He looks thoughtful. ‘Tell Emma the truth and hope she can deal with it.’
I feel a rush of anger. ‘What would a turd like you know?’ I yell and head for my room.
Though I lock my door against the world, shortly after I hear Graham shout, ‘Can’t you leave things alone?’
A shiver runs down my spine. Will they stay together long enough for Graham to finish this renovation? Hannah hates living in a mess. Even after a long day at work, she insists on cleaning up. Then Graham gets cross and says, ‘Why bother? Tomorrow there’ll be more.’
‘I’m just clearing up the worst of it…’
‘But I haven’t finished.’ Then Graham will stalk out of the room, his face a study in frustration. So it only takes Hannah to trip over Jeremy’s joggers to extend the row. Listening to their angry voices, I decide that when I move in with Abdul, that our relationship will be totally different...
That night I have a series of vivid dreams. In one I’m in Paris in a cafe wearing a belted raincoat and beret. An accordion plays softly in the background. Abdul slides into the next seat and kisses me. I wake just long enough to wish this dream will come true, before going back to sleep.
32. EMMA, Surfers
If I dreamt last night, I slept so heavily I don’t remember anything about it. Straight after breakfast Laura drives me around Gold Coast to check out the universities. But I’ve already made up my mind about so many things. I can only see Dessi and myself in the same city doing similar things. So good to talk to her. She did sound a bit strained, though. No wonder. Stuck at home with everyone up here she’s trying not to show how angry she must feel. And when it comes to Sacha, I’m putting that little episode behind me as just too messy. To confirm this, I decide to focus on Abdul and buy him a present. Something old and interesting like the stuff he deals in.
‘Laura,’ I ask. We’re on the patio in bathers sunning themselves. ‘Any antique shops up here?’
‘There’s Op shops,’ she says rubbing cream into her nails. ‘Vinnies. Is this what you mean?’
‘Not really. I want to buy a present for my guy. He’s into retro.’
She glances up with amusement. ‘We could drive up to the hinterland tomorrow. There’s lots of little stores selling antiques. Yesterday, I thought you and Sacha were having a lover’s tiff.’
‘Sacha and me, we’re just close friends,’ I say quickly. ‘We shared Art and Design classes and we’re both hoping to get into College of the Arts, RMIT, or even Swinburne.’
‘He is handsome though… that square chin, high cheekbones and so tall and blonde.’
‘Well he does nothing for me that way,’ I say firmly.
‘And this other person, he does do something for you, is that it?’
That’s enough for me to tell her all about Abdul. How we met in the supermarket-from-hell, how gorgeous he is, how clever, what he does in his spare time. When I finally wind down, Laura is frowning. ‘Abdul? Funny sort of name, isn’t it?’
‘Oh, he’s Lebanese,’ I add, having forgotten to mention this.
She concentrates on painting a thumbnail. ‘Don’t see too many ethnics up here.’
‘Course you do.’ I straighten up. ‘Surfers is full of them.’
&
nbsp; ‘Oh, as tourists, yes. But not living here. A few Asian investors here and there, but not too many. Hardly any Muslims, thank god.’
The atmosphere has turned frosty.
I blink.
How am I supposed to respond? After a while I say, ‘Don’t you miss that?’
‘Miss what?’ Her tone is sharp.
‘The multicultural society... Like in Melbourne?’
‘Really, Emma... Why on earth would I miss it?’
‘Well, the d-difference,’ I stutter. ‘Not everyone being the same. All the restaurants and different food and…‘
‘I certainly do not miss suburbs turning into ghettos.’ Her face hardens.’ Nor do I miss the rising crime rate or the Muslim gangs.’
‘Sacha is Ukrainian,’ I say testing her further. ‘His full name is Sacha Dimitri Bukowsky.’
‘Yes, but he’s European, isn’t he?’ She looks at me as if I can’t grasp her meaning. But I grasp it all right. Laura openly despises anyone not from a Caucasian background. Confronted with such open racism, I’m left wordless though my Picasso woman rises. Before Laura can say something else I’ll hate, I say, ‘Look, don’t worry about the hinterland. I just remembered the guys have other plans tomorrow.’
‘Oh, in that case...’
There’s a long silence. Once I’ve judged that enough time has passed not to appear rude, I go back into what could be my bedroom, change back into my clothes and return to ask to be driven to Broadbeach.
After a silent journey that seems to go on forever, I hop out of the jeep, remember to thank my driver and rush away before Laura can respond. At least I now know where I stand. No way can I live with someone who has such opposing views. Wouldn’t we spend all our time arguing?
I find Kaz and Jodie on the balcony sucking stubbies and say with a straight face, ‘Finished your antibiotics then, Jodes?’
‘Nearly. A couple of beers won’t hurt.’
‘We’re going down the coast this arvo,’ Kaz tells me. ‘Bodie’s taking us in the van. Wanna come?’
Won’t that mean fighting Jeff the Surfie off? ‘No thanks,’ I say quickly. ‘I’ll just hang around here.’
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