God, I was in for it now. This was real life – but I had to keep on making up what came next. I could feel every cell in my body shuddering.
I sat down opposite, trying to match his smirk. I put my hand into his. As his fist closed tight around mine and he started to push, I felt the power of a bulldozer.
‘Wait!’ I said. ‘That’s the mistake everyone makes. You go at it straight away like a sledgehammer, then before you know it, there’s a stalemate. I mean, that’s if you’re wrestling someone your own weight and strength. Instead, there are various techniques to gain the advantage, no matter who you’re opposing. Take the Top Roll move, for instance.’
‘Oh yeah?’ said Jimmy. ‘What’s that when it’s at home?’ He gave a grunting laugh, rolling his eyes as if I was crazy, but I could tell he wanted to know. He could take all this info back to the gym and play top dog.
‘Well, it’s also known as the outside move, because we use the outside of our arms, our biceps. You’re looking to get back pressure and gain leverage against your opponent.’ ‘What?’
I wished for a fleeting moment that I could do something about expanding Jimmy’s vocabulary rather than his arm-wrestling moves, but sometimes you just have to let it go.
‘Okay. Sit square to the table – that’s right, so your hips have room to move underneath. Now you drop your knees, your hips coming forward – Jimmy, in slow motion – your shoulders are moving back away from the table. Now, at the same time turn your wrist over and rotate your hand so the knuckles are facing your opponent. Yes, like so! Apply pressure to the little finger and ring finger of your opponent’s – ow!
’ Jimmy slammed my hand down with such force that the can of beer bounced twice and fell off the table.
‘Be careful, Jimmy,’ cried Anne.
I rubbed the back of my hand SURREPTITIOUSLY, which means secretly, on my jeans. It stung like fire. I tried a lazy smile. ‘Now that was okay, but what if you’re facing someone as strong as or even stronger than you? You didn’t finish all the moves, and you could have been locked in and relying on brute strength.’
But Jimmy, I could see, was getting tired of this game. He had the attention span of a gnat, as Rosie would say. And relying on brute strength was probably how he’d got to where he was today.
‘Let’s try that again,’ I said.
Look your opponent in the eye and distract him with a compliment on his hair, said Dad.
I looked at Jimmy. He was bald as an egg. He had an earring, though. A shiny diamond stud. ‘Hey, nice earring,’ I said. ‘That must have cost you a bomb. Is it a real diamond?’
As Jimmy hesitated, I gained five centimetres . . . before Jimmy slammed my hand down again.
‘Maybe that’s enough now,’ said Anne, stretching across the table to wipe up spilled beer. As she leaned towards us, her gold earring flashed in the overhead light.
‘You have nice earrings, too,’ I said lamely. Anything to fill the OMINOUS silence. I searched all round my mind, but neither Dad nor I had another word to say.
‘Thank you.’ She fingered the gold hoop, tucking her hair back behind her ear.
I looked more closely. A small milky stone was set in the middle of the gold.
‘That’s unusual,’ I said. ‘It’s onyx, isn’t it? Onyx is a . . . kind of quartz. It comes from the old Greek word onux, meaning fingernail – see that pinkish stripe, like a fingernail?’
Anne took off an earring to study it. ‘Yes!’ She smiled. ‘How do you know that?’
I shrugged, humbly. ‘Well, I suppose it’s because I take a great interest in jewellery. As well as wrestling.’
Jimmy snorted.
‘No, really,’ I went on, then stopped. They were both looking at me. It’s hard to think fast when your knees are shaking.
‘See, although my father was brought up in a wrestling household, he’s actually a first-class jeweller. He deals in precious gemstones and antique jewellery.’ I shook my head slightly, as if in awe. ‘It’s amazing, sometimes I come home to find gold necklaces and diamond earrings just strewn all over the dining-room table.’
Jimmy’s jaw dropped open.
‘Can I have a better look at those earrings?’ I asked. ‘They’re unusual, but something about them is familiar.’
‘Of course,’ said Anne. ‘What a privilege, having them valued by an expert – or the son of an expert!’ She was grinning at me, but not unkindly, as she handed me the earring.
I lay it in my palm. My heart was thumping so loudly I was sure they could hear it.
Jimmy kicked his chair back, standing up with his hands on Anne’s shoulders. ‘You got any food for your hard-workin’ man, sweetheart? I’m starving here!’
It was such a risk. But that stone – the pinkish vein running through it, the beaten cross-hatched pattern of the gold – it was all just as Elena had described. But was it fair to accuse someone of a crime – even a bully like Jimmy who could break all the bones in your hand if he wanted to – unless you were absolutely, totally sure?
I glanced up to see Jimmy’s gaze fixed on me. Quickly he looked away and strode to the fridge, burying his face inside. But I’d seen his eyes – scared, guilty, furious – and I made up my mind.
‘I’m sorry, Anne,’ I said softly, putting the earring between us. ‘These are familiar because they belong to my friend Elena’s aunty. They were stolen exactly a week ago from her house.’
‘Oh, what a lot of crap!’ shouted Jimmy, swinging back from the fridge. ‘This guy’s an idiot – or a crook – and I bet his damn arm-wrestling, jewellery-mad father’s a crook too!’ He leapt back to the table and snatched the earring. ‘These are very special earrings. One of a kind. They were my mother’s.’
Oh. What if I was wrong? People don’t lie about their mothers, do they?
‘That’s right, Louis.’ Anne leaned back against her chair, away from me. Her voice was flat, with all the colour and warmth taken out of it.
I crossed my fingers under the table. I’d taken this road and now I couldn’t go back. I didn’t look at Jimmy, but kept my eyes steadily on Anne. ‘Do you happen to have an emerald bracelet? An antique, that Jimmy gave you?’
‘Well . . . yes.’
I nodded. ‘An emerald bracelet was stolen three weeks ago, too, from my next-door neighbour.’
Jimmy pounded his fist against the fridge. ‘What a lot of bull. There are heaps of emerald bracelets. Who are you to come walking into this house, accusing everyone, talking your head off! I want you outta here, now!’
Anne got up from the table.
‘Where are you going?’
‘To the bedroom to get that bracelet,’ said Anne, lifting her chin. ‘Too many different stories here – I don’t know what to believe.’
‘Stay where you are – you’re not going anywhere. This guy’s loony! Don’t you trust me, babe?’
But Anne had skirted around the table and headed for the hall.
‘Oh, all right,’ Jimmy said quickly, stepping across Anne’s path. He put up his hands and sighed loudly, as if resigned. ‘I’ll get the damn bracelet. I know where it is— ’
‘So do I,’ said Anne.
‘No, I put it somewhere else, I was going to get it cleaned so . . .’ He was talking as he strode down the hall.
Anne began to follow him but I called softly to her. We heard him charge into the bedroom and the door banged behind him.
She shook her head, blinking, as if trying to wake up. ‘What’s going on? I don’t know what to think . . . I only wanted to get the bracelet to prove Jimmy’s honesty. I mean, I’m living with this man. He loves me.’
From down the hall we could hear banging and swearing, things being hurled around. Jimmy was shouting ‘Where is it? It’s not here, damn it! What’s she done with it?’
‘He’ll pretend he can’t find it, so there’s no evidence,’ I said.
Anne just stared down the hall.
‘Does that room have a lock?’ I asked.
/>
Numbly, Anne nodded. ‘The key’s in the door. Since that money was stolen, I often lock it when we go out, just in case.’
I raced down the hall and silently twirled the key in the lock. Then I put the key in my pocket. As I reached the kitchen I heard Jimmy’s yell.
‘Hey, this door is stuck. Anne! Anne? Come and let me out.’
I put my finger to my lips.
‘ANNE!’
‘We’ll pretend we’ve gone outside and can’t hear him,’ I said. ‘We have to talk.’
A huge thud rocked the bedroom door. Then another and a furious yell.
‘Oh, this is crazy. I don’t like it – he might kick the door down. I don’t know what he’ll do next!’
‘Look, I came here today to set things straight with you about Cordelia. I know it must be hard to hear, but I wouldn’t be telling you these awful things if it weren’t the truth.’
There was another mighty kick to the door, then nothing.
‘She ran away for a reason. And that reason was Jimmy. She was so desperate she tried to break into my house, because Jimmy was chasing her. Imagine if it hadn’t been my house she’d chosen – imagine if it had been the home of someone much more sinister or lugubrious?’
The silence throbbed like something alive. We sat there a moment, just listening to each other breathe.
A scratching, tinkering sound from down the hall tickled at the quiet. It stopped for a second, and started again.
A horrible thought occurred to me. ‘Does Jimmy know how to pick locks?’
Anne closed her eyes. ‘I don’t know. It seems I don’t know anything about him.’
We listened to the scratching, like birds on a windowsill, or a mouse in a cupboard. It was making my skin crawl.
I straightened my spaghetti legs and stood up.
18
UP AHEAD
There was a click, the whine of a rusty hinge, the slam of the front door. For a wild second I imagined it was Gus, my hero, coming to the rescue.
We heard the sound of rushing feet pounding up the hall. The feet stopped.
Whispering.
And then, charging through the doorway like two sweaty guardian angels were the two faces I most wanted to see.
‘Oh!’ I gulped at them. So I wouldn’t rush to hug them, I turned to Anne. ‘This is Hassan and Singo, my friends!’ I couldn’t help beaming.
They nodded at Anne, and Hassan did a funny kind of bow from the waist.
‘What made you come here?’ I spluttered. ‘I mean, how come?’
‘As if we’d let you die all by yourself!’ said Singo.
‘Well, I’ve been doing all right, actually,’ I sniffed.
‘Yeah, but where’s Jimmy? We saw his van outside.’
‘I’ve locked him in the bedroom,’ I said. I felt a small tingle of pride. It grew until it filled my whole chest. It split my face into a smile, a tall smile. But then I stopped.
Lumbering up behind them came the moving mountain of Jimmy.
Singo must have been warned by my expression. He swung around and shrank back against the wall.
Jimmy grabbed Hassan by the shoulders and marched him into the kitchen.
‘T-take your hands off m-me,’ said Hassan.
‘Where did you get off?’ snarled Jimmy. ‘The last boat?’ ‘Jimmy!’ Anne jumped up, her face white.
Hassan’s hands were trembling. He made them into fists. ‘Louis,’ Anne turned to me, ‘what are these boys doing here?’
I glanced at Singo, inching behind Hassan. He was opening and closing his mouth. His eyes were huge. I’d never seen him look like this, not even when he’d heard about the killer redgums in the state forest. His blue eyes were straining out of his face as if they were trying to escape.
‘Interfering little know-it-alls, that’s who they are,’ growled Jimmy. ‘Now, listen to me. You jokers got hold of the wrong end of the stick, see?’ He loosened his fingers from Hassan’s shirt, staring at them as if he didn’t know how they’d got there.
Hassan was mesmerised by the tiger on Jimmy’s neck. His lips were pale. ‘No, it’s you who is in the wrong, Mr Jimmy Sir. We know all about you. You are a thief and a bully.’
‘And a racist,’ I couldn’t help putting in, even though I knew it would only inflame the situation. But I was so inflamed myself.
‘You get out of my house right now!’ shouted Jimmy. ‘Bloody stupid kids, coming into my home and insulting me. Get out, piss off!’ He advanced toward Hassan and his foot came down hard on Hassan’s trainer.
Hassan flinched and his head reared back but his feet didn’t move from the floor. I heard Singo whisper, ‘Now! You do the Leg Drop, I’ll . . . I’ll do the Frog Star!’
God, were they blind? How could they even consider taking on a walk-in wardrobe? Without thinking, I leapt up and pushed in between Hassan and Jimmy, my hands stretched out on either side. My fingers pushed at both stomachs.
‘Now look,’ I said. ‘Calm down. We can work this out . . . My friends and I didn’t mean any harm, we just wanted to help. I’m sure, Jimmy, you wouldn’t want to hurt a boy half your size, even accidentally. Did you know you are standing on Hassan’s foot? It must be quite painful for him, although it’s probably nothing compared to crossing the Timor Sea in a leaky boat after having survived a bomb and then having to spend a whole year in a detention centre without your mum and dad.’
Hassan was staring at me. He gave a small, appreciative smile. Behind him, Singo’s mouth had dropped open.
But Jimmy’s face was red with rage. The cords on his neck swelled as he clenched and unclenched his jaw.
The tension was a wire pulled taut between us. I could almost hear it twanging in the air.
I held Jimmy’s gaze.
Then Anne took Jimmy’s hand and led him away.
‘I think you all better leave,’ she said softly. She nodded slightly at me, her mouth turning down in shame. Jimmy’s breathing was loud in the quiet. He was like a wild animal that Anne was trying to soothe while we all escaped.
In that moment we heard a loud rap at the door. After a pause, two more loud knocks, then feet marching boldly toward us.
‘What is this, Pitt Street?’ Jimmy exploded.
‘What’s going on?’
I knew that voice even before I swung around to see.
Elena.
Her face was shiny with sweat and her dark curls were damp, flattened against her cheeks. She walked straight up to Hassan. ‘Are you okay? What did he do to you?’
He shook his head. ‘Why did you come? Turn around and walk away.’
‘What are you doing here?’ hissed Singo.
Elena jutted out her chin. ‘Hassan told me about Lou’s message – I was getting really worried. I don’t know why you guys are always leaving me out.’ She looked around at us accusingly. ‘What’s your problem? Don’t you think I’m good enough to share your secrets – what, because I’m a girl? You ought to consider a few facts about girls – like, we bear the pain of childbirth, we bring up human beings, run governments— ’ Jimmy gave a shout of laughter. ‘What’s this now? A raving feminist loony!’ He wiped a hand over his face, as if to wake himself up.
Elena glanced at Jimmy as if he wasn’t worth her time. Then her eyes fixed on Anne.
‘Hi,’ she said in a different voice, friendly and normal. ‘You must be Cordelia’s mother. I’m Elena.’ And she put out her hand to shake.
It’s strange that when someone approaches you with ordinary good manners, you can’t help but respond in the same way, even if you were frozen with humiliation or shock or fury just seconds before.
Anne smiled at Elena wearily. ‘Pleased to meet you, Elena, I’m Anne,’ she said, as if they were meeting at a pleasant end-of-year gathering in the school hall.
Even Jimmy’s shoulders relaxed, although a SCEPTICAL, as in cynical, superior, disbelieving expression remained on his pit-bull face.
‘You must be very worried about your daug
hter,’ Elena went on, a concerned frown between her eyes. ‘I hope Louis has told you that she’s fine.’
‘Yes, thank you,’ said Anne, tucking her hair behind her ear.
‘I would have come to see you days ago,’ Elena told her. ‘But the boys here wouldn’t let me.’ She raised her eyebrows at us. ‘Is that why you were avoiding me?’
I stepped forward and touched Elena’s arm. ‘It’s really good you’re here now. Could you take a look at these earrings and tell us what you think?’ I turned to Anne. ‘This is the friend I was telling you about. The one with the aunty.’
Elena looked at me in surprise.
When I pointed to the earring on the table, Elena picked it up and turned it over in her palm. She made a tutt tutt noise with her tongue, like Mr Mainprize when he caught someone copying homework. ‘Yeah, these are definitely hers – Aunty Maria’s. I’d know them anywhere – I’ve seen them since I was a little girl. And see, here’s her initial, M, engraved on the back.’
Anne didn’t lean over to look. She just kept winding a strand of hair around her finger. I noticed that her hand was shaking. The kitchen was wrapped in a web of quiet, except for the sound of Singo’s knuckles cracking.
‘Oh, this is bullcrap,’ Jimmy growled suddenly, as if he’d woken from a spell. ‘I told you, I want you all out of my kitchen!’
‘My kitchen,’ said Anne coldly.
Everyone looked at Jimmy. His face was turning scarlet. He breathed out heavily. ‘Well, I don’t know what fool game these kids are playing, but there musta been some stupid mix-up . . . anyway, it’s not my fault.’
Anne looked at him steadily. ‘You told me they were your mother’s.’
‘Well, that’s right, and I was going to give you those earrings but then I lost one and, well, I’ve got this mate and he’s just opened up a new shop, a second-hand sort of thing, a pawn shop. Maybe they’re hot, how was I to know? I just didn’t want to disappoint you. I only ever wanted to make you happy, babe.’
He opened his hands, palms out, towards Anne. His bottom lip trembled. His shoulders sagged. Even the animals on his chest looked CHASTENED, as in told-off, reproved, punished. He seemed bewildered, like a little boy who’d done the wrong thing but had only been trying to please.
Louis Beside Himself Page 15
