‘So, Warrior Princess,’ whispered Jackson, when the instructor had moved on to the next pair of students. ‘Time you really learned how to kick arse.’
Maeve could feel the warmth from his body, even though he was centimetres away from her. Her heart started to beat faster as she waited for him to grab her again. As his arm encircled her neck, she caught the salty sweet smell of his skin. Instinctively, she executed the move the instructor had taught her, tracking her heel down Jackson’s leg and ramming it into the crown of his foot while elbowing him in the ribs at the same time.
Jackson let out a grunt of pain, lost his balance and fell onto the mats. Maeve put her hand over her mouth, appalled at how hard she’d hit him.
‘Sorry!’ she said. ‘I didn’t think it would work that well.’
‘I’m all right,’ said Jackson, getting to his feet slowly. ‘But next time, just try and maim me. You can kill me when the show closes, okay?’
23
Auld lang syne
The excitement backstage was like a shimmering electric energy that made the air itself seem to throw off sparks. Maeve and Jackson sat side by side in front of the mirrors in the dressing room while the make-up girls finished drawing in their high, arched eyebrows. It made them look slightly deranged, with their spiky blue wigs and their faces painted flat white. Jackson touched Maeve’s shoulder as they stood together stage left, waiting for their call.
‘Break a leg,’ he said. ‘But not one of mine, okay?’
‘What if I stuff up?’ said Maeve, stepping from foot to foot as if she’d caught Jackson’s habit of perpetual motion.
‘You won’t.’
‘How can you know? What if I go crashing into you and we both go flying?’
‘Then we’ll fake it.’
‘Don’t you get stage fright?’
‘Of course I do. Like, so bad I want to be sick. That’s why I learnt how to fake it!’ He didn’t look at Maeve as he spoke, and suddenly she realised he was as nervous as she was. But when the cymbals crashed and they tumbled out onto the stage, neither of them missed a beat.
The footlights were so bright that it was impossible to make out the faces of the people in the audience but Maeve knew Por Por and Goong Goong were out there. They’d flown down from Surfers Paradise especially for opening night. Andy would be sitting up in the Circle with Ned on his lap. Maeve put an extra spring in her step when she thought of how excited Ned would be when Andy told him that Maeve was that wild, bouncing, blue-haired Thing on stage.
At the end of the show, Maeve didn’t want to leave the backstage area. She pulled off her blue wig and sat on the emergency exit stairs, looking down over the crowds of performers.
‘Wasn’t it brilliant?’ said Bianca. ‘Even if my part was so minuscule, this has been the best, best night of my life.’
‘You were an awesome umbrella stand,’ said Maeve.
‘I thought Jackson was going to skewer me, the way he came flying across the stage with that umbrella like a spear. That guy must have ADD, he is so hyper.’
‘But he’s fun,’ said Maeve.
‘And cute, even if he is a short-arse. Go on, admit it. You think he’s cute.’
Maeve stood up and stretched, ignoring her. ‘I’d better get out of this costume. I’ve gotta catch Ned and Andy in the foyer and then meet my grandparents at the stage-door entrance. Keeping them apart is like serious politics.’
Ned squealed with excitement as Maeve pushed through the crowded foyer towards him. As soon as she drew close, he lunged through space, straight into her arms.
‘You were incredible, Maeve,’ said Andy. ‘You and that other kid looked like you’d drunk rocket fuel.’
‘Thanks, Andy,’ said Maeve. ‘Thanks for coming.’
‘Do you want to come out for a hot chocolate to celebrate and then I’ll drive you back to the boarding house?’ he asked.
‘I can’t. They’re waiting for me,’ said Maeve, avoiding meeting his eyes. She didn’t need to see his face to know his expression had grown cool.
‘Well, I’ll see you next Friday afternoon, then,’ said Andy.
‘I can’t make it next Friday. We’re doing a matinee for schools and there’s an evening show too.’
‘Right, I get it,’ said Andy, taking Ned away from her.
‘Don’t be like that, Andy. I’ll come the Friday after, I promise.’
‘You do what you have to do, kid,’ said Andy. He brushed his cheek against hers, a quick, perfunctory kiss, and Ned grabbed a handful of her hair. Then they were gone. Maeve pushed her way back through the crowd, suddenly feeling as if part of the thrill of the evening had seeped away.
In the dressing room, everyone was talking at once, elated at the success of the show. Maeve sat down in a quiet corner and stuffed her performance notes into her dance bag.
‘Is everything all right, Maeve?’ asked McCabe, noticing her sitting alone in the corner. ‘Do you need a lift back to the boarding house?’
‘No, it’s okay. My grandparents are waiting for me.’
‘Good, I’d like to meet them.’
Maeve frowned. Great. Just what she didn’t need. She could imagine her grandparents’ response to meeting one of her teachers. They’d probably start grilling McCabe about whether Maeve was keeping up with her homework.
Outside, the night air was warm and balmy. Por Por was standing by the stage door in the midst of a crowd of waiting parents. She looked small and alone beside the younger couples. As soon as she caught sight of Maeve, her face lit up with pride.
Maeve hugged her. ‘Where’s Goong Goong?’ she asked. ‘There’s a teacher that wants to meet you both.’
‘He’s waiting in the car,’ said Por Por, frowning. Suddenly, Maeve realised she could never second-guess her grandmother. Por Por obviously wasn’t excited at the prospect of a parent–teacher interview in the street. ‘Are you ready to come back to Potts Point with us? Have you got your things?’
Before Maeve could answer, McCabe was beside them.
‘Mrs Kwong, I’m Colm McCabe. I teach Maeve drama and music at St Philomena’s.’
‘Colm?’ said Por Por, her eyes widening. She let go of Maeve’s hand and Maeve felt her heart sink. She hoped Por Por wasn’t going to say something to embarrass them both.
McCabe looked uncomfortable too. ‘Yes, ma’am. Colm McCabe,’ he repeated.
‘You don’t recognise me, do you?’
McCabe looked confused. ‘I don’t believe we’ve met.’
Por Por laughed. ‘Not for a long time. Pine Creek. 1956, I think that was the year. The last time I saw you. You’ve grown a lot and I’m probably not an inch taller!’
Maeve wanted to shrink inside herself with embarrassment. What was Por Por on about? But then McCabe’s frown lifted and he gave a shout of laughter.
‘Lily! Lily Yen Lin! I don’t believe it!’ He reached out and took hold of Por Por’s hands and they stood staring at each other in amazement. Maeve found herself standing off to one side, feeling bewildered. She was glad Goong Goong wasn’t around. She knew Goong Goong thought it was uncool to shake hands with another man’s wife, and more than that, there was something embarrassing about two old people being so excited to see each other.
Por Por turned to Maeve and put an arm around her. ‘Siu Siu, when I was younger than you are now, I used to play cat’s cradle and hopscotch and chasey with your Mr McCabe! You wouldn’t believe it, would you. Fifty years! Colm, I still feel like that little girl.’
‘Maeve’s so like you. I can see it now.’ McCabe turned to Maeve. ‘Your grandmother could kick higher than anyone I’d ever met.’
‘Ummmm,’ said Maeve in a small voice. Then she became aware of the fact that they were standing under the streetlight and nearly all the other parents had left.
McCabe pulled a piece of card out of his pocket and hurriedly scribbled on it. ‘Here’s my phone number at home and at work. There’s a lot of catching up that we need to do. But m
ost importantly, I wanted to talk to you about Maeve. She’s a very talented young performer and I’d like her to be part of this year’s drama tour to England and Ireland.’
‘What?’ said Maeve. This evening was getting weirder by the minute. ‘But don’t you have to be in Year 10?’
‘Normally, yes. But we have a few spare places left this year.’ He turned to Por Por. ‘Bianca Storelli’s parents are keen for her to participate and I thought Maeve would make a good addition to the group as well.’
In the car on the way back to the flat, Maeve leant forward so that she could see her grandparents’ faces, trying to read their expressions as she explained about the drama tour, but Por Por simply looked at Goong Goong, as if, like Maeve, she was trying to read which direction the wind might be blowing.
‘Acting, dancing,’ he finally said in a low, stern voice. ‘This isn’t real work. This is grown-ups behaving like children. And a holiday, during the school year? What sort of studying is this? What would you learn from this trip?’
Maeve slumped back in her seat and folded her arms. She thought, ‘Maybe I’d learn something that would really annoy you. Maybe I’d learn about my real father.’
24
Missing in action
Maeve wished the show could run for months. It seemed unbelievable that after one short week it could all be over. On closing night, Bianca ran from one end of the girls’ dressing room to the other, getting everyone to sign her Seussmania T-shirt. Jackson stood outside the door, his blue wig in his hand, waving for Maeve to come and talk to him.
‘Are you coming to the after-party?’ he asked.
‘I’m not allowed to go,’ said Maeve. ‘My grandparents didn’t like the fact it was in a club in the city. They think I’m too young.’
‘That’s too bad,’ said Jackson. He looked at the ground as he shifted from foot to foot.
‘Is something the matter?’ asked Maeve. She could tell he was feeling uncomfortable, that there was something he wanted to say but he couldn’t find the words.
‘I got you these,’ he said, thrusting a small pink package into her hand. ‘I was going to give them to you at the after-party, but if you’re not coming . . .’
Maeve couldn’t make him meet her eye. He kept his gaze down and scuffed the ground with his foot as she unwrapped the tiny gift. Inside the folds of pink tissue paper lay a pair of earrings, two red-and-blue miniature Things. She laughed out loud.
‘These are great,’ she said.
‘Look at them closely.’
Maeve laid the Things on the palm of her hand and studied them. On the chest of each creature was a letter.
‘M and J. You and me,’ she said. ‘They’re beautiful.’
Jackson grinned at his shoes.
‘I think you’re really something, Maeve.’
Suddenly, Maeve realised she should thank him but she wasn’t sure how. She leant forward and gave Jackson a quick hug and then stepped back. Why did it always feel as if there was a charge of static electricity in the air when she was close to him?
‘Gotta go,’ said Maeve. ‘My friend Steph is waiting out front for me.’
When she was settled in the taxi with Steph, Maeve pushed her face against the glass, watching the other performers stream out of the theatre.
‘Do you have to make it so obvious?’ said Steph.
‘What?’
‘That you’d rather be with Bianca than with me. At least you two got to be in the show together.’
‘You could have auditioned as well.’
‘No I couldn’t. I would have had to quit my job. I can hardly keep up with my homework as it is. And now you’re going to Ireland without me too. It’s so not fair.’
Maeve turned to her. ‘I’m not going to Ireland. My grandparents won’t let me. And we’re still the Three Musketeers, even if Bunka goes to Ireland without us. Nothing can change that.’
Back at the apartment, Maeve microwaved a packet of popcorn and they took the bowl into the guest room where Maeve stayed when her grandparents were in Sydney. They climbed into the big double bed and flicked on the television. Maeve was channel-surfing when Steph snatched the controls out of her hand.
‘No, wait,’ said Steph, flicking back to SBS.
‘We don’t want to watch the news,’ said Maeve. ‘It’s gross.’
‘But it was about Iraq. Something has happened in Iraq.’
‘Something’s always happening in Iraq.’
Then Maeve realised why Steph had flipped out. A group of Australian soldiers had been attacked by a suicide bomber. Steph began to tremble.
‘That’s Ben’s unit. That’s my brother’s unit,’ she said. ‘I know it is.’
There wasn’t any question of Steph staying the night. She wanted to go home straight away, to wait for the updates. She was angry that her parents hadn’t told her what had happened, but mostly she was frightened.
‘I’ll drive you home, Stephanie,’ said Goong Goong. ‘Get your things.’
‘Can I come too, Goong Goong? To keep Steph company.’
‘If you must,’ he replied.
‘Of course I must,’ thought Maeve. ‘That’s what friends do for each other.’
Steph and Maeve sat in the back seat of the car together but every time they passed under a streetlight, Maeve noticed Goong Goong was watching them in the mirror.
‘Maeve tells me you work very hard at McDonald’s, Stephanie, and that’s why you weren’t in the show.’
‘Steph’s even more into acting than I am,’ said Maeve. ‘She’s really good. She’s saving up to go on next year’s drama trip.’
As soon as she’d said it, she bit her lip. Maybe Goong Goong would think it was flaky to want to be an actor.
‘So you’re working with a goal. To make money for the tour. I admire that sort of resourcefulness very much,’ said Goong Goong.
Maeve felt Goong Goong’s remark like a rebuke. It was as if she couldn’t do anything that really pleased him.
‘I was hoping to meet up with my brother in London,’ said Steph. ‘But now . . .’ She leant forward and covered her face with her hands.
‘Don’t worry, Steph. Ben will be okay.’
‘How can you know that?’
‘Because one bad thing for the Musketeers is enough.’
‘What if it’s one bad thing for each of us?’ whispered Steph.
On the ride home from Stephanie’s, Goong Goong and Maeve didn’t speak. It was as if they couldn’t think of anything to say to each other without someone else there. Maeve wondered if it was like this when her mother was little. She thought about Will saying his father had held the family together after Will’s mother died. All of a sudden, Maeve grew frightened at the idea that something might happen to Por Por and then there’d only be her and Goong Goong left, with this great gulf of silence between them. She was glad when they pulled into the apartment carpark.
Maeve was barely in the door again when Steph phoned in tears. For a minute, Maeve thought it was going to be bad news, but Steph was sobbing with relief. Everything was okay. When Steph’s father had finally got through to the hospital, Ben had said he was injured but not badly. They were sending him back to London for R&R and there was nothing for his family to worry about.
‘You were right, Maeve. My dad says all that superstitious stuff about bad things happening in threes is dumb. He is such a rock, my dad.’
Maeve switched off her mobile phone and pulled the green notebook from her bedside table. She hadn’t written in it since before the Seussmania audition. It opened up on the page with the picture of her father. Would he be a rock if she knew him? Her pen hovered over the page. She wanted to write something about him but she didn’t know him well enough. She’d studied his letter from Nepal so many times that she could almost recite it, but there were no clues in it about who he really was.
Things I know about my father
My father’s name is David Lee. He was born in Ireland.
He has a good memory, he can recite poetry, he can
draw and he could make my mum laugh.
He doesn’t know I exist.
Things I know about Jackson
His full name is Jackson Delaney Totafurno. He was
born in Melbourne but came to live in Sydney when he
was three. He is a great dancer, he can kick arse and
he can make me laugh. He thinks I’m really something.
Maeve laughed. ‘Really something’ didn’t look very interesting when she wrote it down, but it had felt so good when Jackson said it. She wanted to keep thinking about Jackson, but the photo of her father kept staring up at her. If she looked at him for too long she felt as if she could disappear into the crazy man’s eyes. He shouldn’t matter to her. She had her grandparents, Ned and Andy, her friends, and now she even had Jackson. Why should it matter that she didn’t know who her father was?
25
The real thing
McCabe had organised a barbecue in a park near his apartment in Coogee for the cast and crew of Seussmania along with their families. Goong Goong didn’t want any of the Kwongs to go. He sat in front of the television with the remote, staring crossly at the screen. Maeve knew this wasn’t the sort of fight he was going to win. Slowly, Maeve was starting to understand that when Por Por wanted something badly enough, she always had her way.
‘Will you still be here when we get home?’ asked Maeve.
Goong Goong made a cross, grunty sort of sound and ignored the question. His bags were by the front door, packed and ready to go for his flight to Melbourne.
‘Goong Goong’s flight is at seven, darling,’ said Por Por, taking Maeve by the hand. ‘But he’ll be home in a few days.’
Por Por kissed him quickly on the top of his head before they left and Maeve waved. She still felt too shy of Goong Goong to kiss him goodbye.
The Secret Life of Maeve Lee Kwong Page 13
