The Last Days of Chez Nous & Two Friends

by Helen Garner

  Malcolm sees Chris’s reaction. He is dark-faced with fury.

  MALCOLM: What the hell are you doing back here?

  The room is frozen.

  Chris puts down the ladle and makes as if to push back her chair and go to Kelly. But Malcolm gets to his feet in such a way as to cut off Chris’s access to Kelly. Kate and little Helen are speechless.

  KELLY: Mum?

  She is waiting for her mother to stick up for herself, to push past the barrier of Malcolm; she is making a direct appeal.

  MALCOLM (takes a few steps towards her): Look at yourself. You’re a deadbeat.

  Little Helen jumps up and darts past Malcolm: she flings her arms round Kelly’s hips. Malcolm strides after her and pulls her away by one arm, as if from something that will contaminate her. Chris tries to stand up, utters the beginning of a word.

  MALCOLM: Shutup Chris. It’s your fault she’s like this. You let me handle it.

  KELLY: Mum?

  MALCOLM: How dare you come here in that get-up? You look like a junkie. You look like a prostitute.

  KELLY: I brought you something, Mum.

  She holds out the parcel.

  MALCOLM: Do you know what you’re doing to your mother?

  Kelly bends over and puts the parcel on the floor. At no stage does she acknowledge Malcolm or even that he’s speaking to her. She is after Chris. Malcolm is a blockage between the girl and her mother. Kelly speaks only to Chris, she urgently needs Chris to answer but Chris can’t.

  KELLY: Mum? I’ll come again, will I? I’ll ring up.

  No one speaks. Chris is like a prisoner. She is weak. Kelly puts out one foot and kicks the parcel across the floor to her mother. Then she turns and goes out. She closes the door behind her.

  Outside it is now quite dark. Kelly walks away up the street.

  Morning, several days later.

  Jenny opens the front door of the house and goes out. She is dressed for work and carrying a briefcase. She looks for mail and finds a letter. It is addressed to Louise in a big flamboyant scrawl.

  Jenny walks back into the house and props the letter on the piano, where the music stands, then goes out again, walking with purpose.

  After school that afternoon, Louise lets herself into the house with a key. She dumps her bag, seizes food, and goes to the piano, where she sees the letter. She opens it eagerly. We see that it starts ‘To my dear friend Louise’.

  Kelly’s voice-over goes more slowly than Louise’s rate of silent reading, so that by the time Louise has read to the end, Kelly’s voice is only halfway through. Louise puts the letter down on the table and sits at the piano. She starts to play: she spanks smartly through something mechanical. We hear the music under Kelly’s voice.

  KELLY (voice-over): ‘To my dear friend Louise.

  The first thing I should say is sorry for not contacting you sooner. For the last couple of months I’ve just needed a total break which I’ve had and feel much better for it. I’ve been living in Bondi, walking distance from the beach. Up until now I spent my time starving and totally broke. I had to wait about seven or eight weeks for the dole. It was pretty hard but I survived. I’ve just moved into a flat with some other people. The flat is really good with big rooms. The rent is $150 monthly which is not too bad especially when Dad is paying for it. So far so good, I’m not a junkie or a prostitute and life should be slightly easier now that I’ve got a place to call home.

  I feel lots happier—for a while I seemed to be a manic depressant. I’ve been in love for about three months. That sounds typically like me. His name is Panky. I was living with him for about two and a half months, then things deteriorated but I’m hoping things will pick up again. At the moment I’m waiting for the postman who will hopefully bring a check from my father. As once again I don’t have any money. I’ve been sick for about two weeks, probably from bad diet etc…I was on antibiotics etc…but I’m over that now. I lost my cat, she was with me and one day just disappeared. My new address is on the envelope, come and visit me any time. I haven’t seen the family at all. I’ve been sort of holding my breath. Not sure how they will react but I’m going over there tonight which is Mum’s birthday. Maybe I will get a cooked meal for once! Give my love to Soula, Julie, Justine, Jenny and that dag Matthew. Take care and please write back. I’ll save the rest for when I see you.

  With love,

  Kelly xxx

  PS Sorry I didn’t make it to your birthday. Something came up.

  PPS Recognise the paper?’

  We see Louise’s face as she plays. She is almost crying.

  FADE TO BLACK

  PART TWO

  FIVE MONTHS EARLIER FEBRUARY 1985

  Morning, at a bus stop. Among a crowd of schoolkids, we see Louise in a very new uniform and hard black lace-up shoes, with a heavy bag on her shoulder. The bus comes. Louise and the others get on. She has to stand. She sees another pair of shiny black shoes: raises her eyes and sees another girl in the same uniform, about to start at the same new school. They smile, embarrassed, and quickly look away without speaking.

  Also on the bus is Matthew, in some kind of uniform involving a blazer. Louise keeps glancing at him; he is reading something. He looks up and registers her attention—they notice each other.

  An afternoon, some weeks later.

  Louise and Matthew walk down the street together from the bus. They walk with a lot of space between them. They look shy, with awkward smiles.

  As they approach Louise’s gate, the white station wagon with tinted windows, not in good repair, pulls up in front of the house. Jim gets out of it, and waits for them.

  LOUISE: That’s my Dad. Foul car, isn’t it.

  Matthew gives a tactful shrug. They reach the car. It has a baby seat in the back.

  LOUISE: Matthew, this is my father.

  Jim gives Matthew a friendly nod and a curious glance. Matthew puts out his hand and they shake.

  JIM: Looks like we’re visiting the same girl.

  LOUISE (mortified): Da-ad.

  Matthew gives an airy little wave and attempts an epigram.

  MATTHEW: Great minds think alike.

  He heaves his bag and wanders off. Louise looks at Jim with a soft look.

  Jim and Louise are now in the lounge room. Jim is leaning on the window sill watching the schoolkids pass, while Louise unpacks her French horn and gets ready to play. Louise is chattering without expecting an answer.

  LOUISE: Malcolm’s so stingy, he won’t even pay for her to have singing lessons. He says she has to work at the chemist after school if she wants something special. Special! I think that’s disgusting. I think he’s a bastard. He’s foul.

  JIM: Doesn’t her mother ever stick up for her?

  LOUISE: She’s scared of him too. She’s pathetic. He’s not even her real father. I don’t see why he should have the right to ruin everything.

  Now she is set up and begins to tune the instrument. Jim turns in from the window.

  The front door bangs and Jenny comes bustling down the hall. Friendly looks and greetings.

  JENNY: Oh, hi Jimmy! Did Philip ring, Louise?

  LOUISE (casually): No. He didn’t.

  Jenny forges through into the kitchen. Louise raises the French horn to her lips.

  JIM (in a conspiratorial whisper, grinning): Who’s Philip?

  Louise merely raises her eyebrows. She begins to play.

  That evening, Jim and Louise are at a table in a cheap and noisy restaurant, having dinner. Jim pours her half a glass and himself a full one. Obviously she thinks the sun shines out of him: she listens with rapt attention while he tells a great tale, with actions and gestures.

  JIM: Of course, he’s in parliament now, but I used to know him at uni. He was so horrible that he had to grow a beard to try and hide how horrible he was.

  They eat. Louise, chewing, looks happily round the restaurant.

  LOUISE: Hey, Dad. Do you think anyone could mistake us for girlfriend and boyfriend?


  Later that night Louise is sitting up in her bed writing in her diary.

  JENNY (voice-over): Turn that light off now.

  LOUISE: In a minute.

  She finishes and hides the diary behind the mirror on her dressing table.

  An afternoon, some days later.

  Louise and Matthew get off the bus.

  Kelly (who looks a lot less extreme in dress and hair than in the first section) is leaning against a shop window with folded arms, waiting. The two girls spot each other, and dash forward; there is a lot of shrieking, hugging and kissing; they babble:—‘Haven’t seen you for ages’—‘Look at those socks!’—‘Who’ve you got for English?’—‘Is Kennedy still there?’—‘Do they go on camps?’ Matthew stands apart, looks into the distance as if patiently waiting for an overdone performance to end.

  Kelly is already examining Matthew with a practised eye.

  LOUISE: Matthew, this is my best friend, Kelly.

  Matthew and Kelly greet each other.

  LOUISE: Kelly got into City Girls’ too. She should be there if it wasn’t for her bloody dickhead stepfather.

  KELLY (shrugs): Oh, it’s not too bad at King Street. Anyway…I might be leaving school after my birthday.

  LOUISE (shocked): Leaving school?

  KELLY (bluffing): My Dad reckons he might be able to line me up a job where he works.

  Louise is absolutely stumped by this.

  The same afternoon, Louise, Kelly and Matthew burst into the kitchen at Louise’s place.

  Kelly goes straight to the TV and turns it on, then walks away without a glance at it. Their schoolbags are dumped askew in doorways. They forage in the kitchen. Kelly is completely at home in Louise’s kitchen, while Matthew politely stands back and waits to be offered food.

  Their conversation is sporadic, mostly about school. Louise plays down the thrill of City Girls’ so as not to make Kelly feel bad about not being there too. ‘You should see the science teacher’, etc.

  Kelly tells about their common acquaintances. ‘Justine’s had a bob. The back of her neck’s all shaved.’

  They drift through a door into the lounge room. Kelly picks up a photo album with a shriek and opens it with a flourish. They all bend over it. The girls chatter about the pictures.

  In this scene, Matthew is not much more than an audience for a performance by the girls of their friendship: they show him, as it were, their relics.

  Matthew, not your ordinary slob, is quite entertained: he’s the kind of boy who enjoys girls’ company and is accepted by them.

  Louise seems, in her ugly uniform, almost childlike, compared with Kelly who’s dressed in coloured, sloppy, attractive clothes.

  Kelly plays up to Matthew—almost as if she can’t help it. (Kelly will become one of those women who, when there’s a man in the room, unconsciously channel all their attention towards him.)

  Kelly’s small betrayal of Louise: in the photo album there is a picture of their two pink plastic orthodontic plates—a comical photo, perhaps they are on the table beside a vase of flowers or even on the edge of a swimming pool.

  LOUISE: Argh! Our plates.

  Louise tries to turn the page. Kelly stops her.

  KELLY: Look—you can tell you’ve got yours in, there—you’re smiling with your lips closed.

  LOUISE: I look ghastly.

  KELLY: Louise still has to put hers in, don’t you Louise. Every night.

  Kelly turns the page without looking at Louise, who registers the casual treachery in a tiny way. No one is looking at anyone.

  Later the same afternoon, Matthew has gone home and the girls are upstairs in Louise’s bedroom. Kelly is restless, roaming about looking at things, while Louise is hastily getting out of her uniform.

  KELLY: I thought you said Matthew was a spunk.

  Louise is thrown by this.

  LOUISE (uncertainly): Well? He is.

  KELLY: I reckon he’s probably a bit of a poof.

  LOUISE: He is not!

  KELLY: You can always tell.

  LOUISE: Why’d you say that to him, about my plate?

  KELLY: Well, it’s true!

  LOUISE: You didn’t have to say it in public.

  KELLY: Who cares? He’s probably got one himself. A great big pink one. With one false tooth, right in the front.

  Kelly is trying to charm her. Louise can’t help laughing. The mood lightens.

  KELLY: Where’s Jenny?

  LOUISE: At work.

  KELLY: Let’s have a little glass of vodka before she gets back.

  Louise hangs her dress and blazer behind the door.

  LOUISE: You can. I have to do my homework.

  KELLY: Oh, how boring.

  LOUISE: I wish you’d been allowed to come to City Girls’.

  KELLY: Why?

  LOUISE: I just think it would’ve been better.

  Louise sounds a bit prudish.

  After dinner that evening, Jenny is driving her car across the Harbour Bridge. Louise is beside her. The radio is on the ABC: the Law Report, a sober voice talking. They don’t speak to each other but seem at ease, listening and looking out the windows.

  JENNY: Marvellous clouds, aren’t they.

  LOUISE: Shh. I’m listening.

  At the music teacher’s house, Jenny sits alone at a dining room table reading the Sun. The room has a modern table and chairs, a floral carpet, a sideboard with sporting cups and shields lined up; on the walls are framed photos of race horses.

  From the next room we hear two horns playing in harmony: one strongly and well, the other more hesitant, following.

  Jenny turns a page, reads: seems to pay no attention to the music.

  The same evening, in the kitchen/living room, at Kelly’s house—the usual partly renovated state of flux. Though the used parts of the room are clean and orderly, it’s as if chaos is always just being kept at bay. The sound of a shower pounding in the bathroom.

  Kelly is slouched in front of the TV. Her mother, Chris, is cooking. Little Helen is cutting things out of paper on the floor with intense concentration.

  CHRIS (discreetly, in low voice): The school rang up today. They said you’d missed two days already this week.

  Kelly does not answer.

  CHRIS: Where do you go?

  From her tone we see that she is afraid of Kelly, nervous of her. Kelly does not speak or look up.

  The shower stops. Malcolm shouts from the bathroom.

  MALCOLM (voice-over): Chris? Chris! There are no towels here.

  CHRIS: Take him a towel, Kell, will you.

  KELLY: You take him one. You’re his slave, not me.

  CHRIS (appealing): Oh, Kelly.

  KELLY: He wouldn’t take you one! Why do you wait on him?

  Malcolm’s head round bathroom door.

  MALCOLM: Come on! What’s going on out there? I asked for a towel.

  KELLY (shouts): Get your own towel like everybody else does.

  Chris downs the spatula and runs out the back door for a towel off the line.

  MALCOLM (round the door): I’ve had a gutful of you, Kelly.

  KELLY (still without looking at him): Don’t worry. I won’t be here much longer. I’m going to live with Dad.

  Chris runs in with a towel and hands it to Malcolm round the door. He takes it without looking at her and withdraws into the bathroom.

  MALCOLM (voice-over): Don’t be stupid. He doesn’t want you loafing round his flat.

  KELLY (shouts): He does so. And he’s going to pay for me to have singing lessons.

  Malcolm gives a loud, contemptuous laugh from the bathroom. Kelly gets up and leaves the room.

  Little Helen goes on cutting and pasting throughout all this.

  That night, in Kelly’s bedroom which she shares with her older half-sister Kate. Kelly is lying in her bed, propped up on one elbow, reading by the bedlamp on the head of her bed. It is a book, not a comic or magazine: a fat tome, Gone with the Wind. Kate stirs in her sleep and turns over. />
  KATE: Turn the light off, will you? I’ve got an exam at nine o’clock in the morning.

  KELLY: I’m reading.

  KATE: Turn it off.

  Kelly does so, and puts the book down on the floor. They talk in the dark.

  KATE: I saw you today, Kelly.

  KELLY: So what?

  KATE: You want to watch out.

  KELLY: Mr Kennedy already rang.

  KATE: I didn’t mean that.

  KELLY: What did you mean.

  KATE: You know.

  KELLY: Oh, shutup.

  KATE: You’re stupid, Kelly.

  Kelly gets out of her bed and leaves the room.

  An hour later. The house is still. Kelly, in a nightie and a blanket, is sunk in a chair in front of the TV. Gone with the Wind lies face down beside her. Something silly is jumping on the screen.

  Little Helen in pyjamas appears in the doorway. Kelly does not look up. Little Helen walks over to her, stands beside her chair and looks at the screen. She tugs Kelly by the sleeve.