by Helen Garner
KELLY: Two hours of homework a night! In year nine!
CHRIS (with an excited laugh): By year twelve you’ll be working till two o’clock in the morning!
Chris gradually becomes aware that Malcolm is brooding, not just thinking about something else.
CHRIS: What did you think of it, Malcolm?
MALCOLM: That woman was like a man in drag.
Kelly laughs, still unaware. But Chris has immediately picked up his tone, and glances at him nervously.
MALCOLM: I’m not at all sure about this idea. If I’d known it was like that I wouldn’t have let her sit for the exam.
KELLY: Like what?
MALCOLM: It’s reactionary! It’s elitist! That old battle-axe—the way she talked down to us. I take offence at being spoken to like that.
CHRIS (daringly): You won’t have to. You’re not the one going there.
He does not like her tone, either.
A silence.
KELLY (earnestly): I liked the school, Malcolm. I did. I really liked it. And so did Louise.
CHRIS: And you must admit the music was marvellous.
MALCOLM: This is the end of the twentieth century! Why are they still singing that stuff? They should be letting them play rock ’n’ roll. Anyway, a concert doesn’t give you any idea of the kind of teaching they do. They should have an open day, so we can walk around and watch the kids learning to work computers.
KELLY: But that’d be really boring.
MALCOLM: What’s so bloody special about City Girls’, anyway?
KELLY: You heard what she said! They make you work! King Street’s a bludge.
MALCOLM: Kids shouldn’t have to be ‘made to work’. They should be allowed to work at their own pace.
A silence.
KELLY: Malcolm. I really, really want to go. I want to be with Louise.
Pause.
MALCOLM: I’ll think about it.
Silence. Chris and Kelly are looking at him.
MALCOLM (under pressure; shouts): I said I’ll think about it!
A summer afternoon. In Jenny’s backyard, the two girls are hanging out the clothes.
Louise works sloppily and lazily, bunging the pegs in anywhere on the garment, while Kelly does it properly with efficient movements and not pegging things by the collar; she is thinking of the ironing later.
KELLY: When are you going to ask her?
LOUISE: After tea.
That evening, Louise is playing the piano. Kelly is clearing the table. Jenny is watching the news on TV.
KELLY: Are you having a Christmas tree?
JENNY: I’m not buying one. I hate them. It’s just another rook. And they drop their needles everywhere.
LOUISE (eagerly): We could get one of those plastic ones from the service station. They’re only $7.
KELLY: Malcolm says we’re not going to give each other any presents this year.
LOUISE: But that’s disgusting! How mean! Don’t you think so, Mum?
JENNY (shrugs, reluctant to undermine authority): Everyone’s got their own ideas.
KELLY: It’s because of the Third World.
LOUISE (picks up the ukelele and plays a little tune. Sings in grotesque parody of a C&W accent):
‘Gonna have a party
Dew you wanna come?
If yew wanna come
Yew better ask y’ Mom’—
Hey Mum, can Kelly stay?
JENNY: All right, you be in bed by ten.
LOUISE: Ten-thirty.
JENNY: Ten-fifteen. No later.
The same evening. The girls are in the cupboard under the stairs of Jenny’s house. Kelly holds a torch, Louise is burrowing in an open trunk, pulling out tinsel, baubles, stars, etc.
KELLY: Do you think she’ll let us? She doesn’t like parties much, does she.
LOUISE: She’ll let us if we promise to clean up afterwards. Anyway when you change schools at our age you have to have some kind of celebration. How about this green stuff?
Pulls an old cotton curtain out of the trunk.
Several days later. It’s the last day of third term. Outside the high school, a grand scene of farewell.
Louise and Kelly are saying goodbye. They and several girlfriends work themselves into a passion of tears, as if they will never see each other again.
Many kids pass. Some look at the melodramatic scene.
RENATO (passing with another boy): They’re all lesos at City Girls’ High.
KELLY: Charming.
Renato’s friend, seeing the tragic farewells, remarks to Renato in genuine surprise:
FRIEND: They only live round the corner—they’ll see each other every day.
Days later. Early in the evening, Jenny enters her lounge room, and sees the Christmas tree the girls have made: an umbrella opened and wedged with bricks into a plastic bucket, with an old green curtain spread over it, its brass rings not quite concealed. A sparkly star on the umbrella’s point. Paper chains, camels, moons, wise men and parcels are pinned to the curtain. They have even cleaned up: the bin is overflowing with paper scraps. On the table, two pairs of scissors, a roll of sticky tape, a bottle of Clag.
Jenny stands looking at this. Their eager, good-humoured ingenuity, after her mean-spiritedness: she is ashamed, and moved.
Early evening, several days later, at Jenny’s place.
Louise and Kelly are engaged in feverish preparation for the party. They have arranged the lounge room in a stiff way: dining chairs at regular intervals, along the wall, the table in the middle with food and glasses. The Christmas tree in evidence. Jenny enters.
The girls look at her, waiting for her approval: their anxiety is touching.
LOUISE: Is it all right?
KELLY: Does it look welcoming?
LOUISE: But what about the tree. It’s pathetic.
JENNY: It’s beautiful, girls.
We see her slight hesitation but they don’t. Kelly stands up close to Jenny as if waiting for a hug. Jenny puts one arm round her shoulders.
The girls seem childish in their eagerness.
KELLY: Arkh! The sausage rolls.
Louise rushes off to the kitchen. Kelly moves away from Jenny and goes to the open window. She hangs out of it and looks up and down the street, then turns back to the room.
KELLY: What’s the time?
JENNY: Half-past seven.
KELLY: That’s the time we said. Nobody’s here yet. What if no one comes? Do you think we should start ringing them up?
JENNY: They’ll come. Nobody ever arrives on time at a party—it’s uncool.
A knock at the door.
Louise and Kelly go stampeding past Jenny to answer.
Kelly and Louise rush to the front door and open it.
On the doorstep stands Soula, a smiling Greek girl, all dressed up, carrying a plate covered in silver foil. Her brother Con is behind her on the footpath, delivering her. Shrieks of greeting.
LOUISE: Hi, Soula! Come in! You’re the first one!
KELLY: Hi, Con.
CON (completely uninterested): I’ll be back at eleven. I don’t want to hang around, Soula. You be ready.
SOULA: Okay.
Soula comes in. The door is closed. Mass movement towards the lounge room. Jenny fights through in the opposite direction.
JENNY: I’m going for a little walk. I’ll be back in an hour, all right?
No one is listening. She goes out the front door.
It’s still very light—summer time, a pleasant evening. Jenny walks slowly along the street. She is relieved to be out of the tension of their expectation.
A quiet scene. Not much traffic. A few people sitting on doorsteps. Jenny turns a corner.
At Alison’s front gate, Alison is leaning against the fence talking to Jenny, in the warm evening.
JENNY: They’ve got it set up like a dentist’s waiting room. I felt like bursting into tears.
They laugh.
ALISON: Thank God we’re old.
Wally
flies past on a BMX without looking up.
JENNY: Isn’t Wally speaking to you?
ALISON: I made him wear a helmet.
They lean there watching the kids on bikes, the odd skateboard.
ALISON: You long for them to have something as simple as a bad dream, so you can comfort them.
Half an hour later, Jenny and Alison walk towards Jenny’s front gate. The door is open and they go in.
Inside the house, Alison goes straight up the stairs, to the lavatory.
From the lounge room, sounds of a dispute.
Jenny enters the lounge room. A scene of minor bedlam, which freezes as she appears.
Kelly is on the sofa with Renato. They are pashing-on in a flamboyant exhibitionist style.
Soula and four other girls are clustered in a corner, embarrassed, giggling.
Louise, looking anxious, runs in from the kitchen and stops dead at the sight of her mother.
JENNY: What’s going on?
Renato hears her, and flees out the front way. Kelly sits up, stunned with kissing.
Louise begins to give a flustered report: she’s afraid Jenny will be angry.
LOUISE: We invited some boys from school—but they sort of broke in, and they pinched the champagne out of the fridge when I wasn’t looking. I couldn’t stop them.
Louise is almost in tears. The other girls, relieved to see an authority figure, move closer.
Jenny goes into the kitchen and sees the fridge door open, plundered. She closes it as she passes.
Jenny continues out the back door and sees three boys, much less brazen than Renato, loitering outside the back gate. Two empty (cheap) champagne bottles are lying in the gutter. The boys take off when they see her, but stop again twenty yards away and watch to see what Jenny will do. They are muttering to each other and laughing.
BOY (daringly): Youse are slack.
Jenny ignores him. She picks up the empty bottles and stands them next to the gate. She goes into the kitchen and shuts the back door.
Upstairs, a toilet flushes and Alison walks out of the bathroom. She goes to the stairs and hangs over the bannister, wondering what’s keeping Jenny.
Meanwhile, in the lounge room, though it’s a warm night, the girls are closing the window and pulling the blinds and curtains across.
Kelly is still sitting quietly on the couch.
Jenny enters from the kitchen. She and Kelly look at each other without speaking; Kelly’s expression is inscrutable, but Jenny’s is curious, almost respectful. Kelly gives a very small smile.
LOUISE: I’m going to lock the front door.
She runs off down the hallway. Jenny turns and follows behind. Louise closes the door to a crack. She speaks to someone outside. Jenny is listening.
LOUISE (through the crack): At the very least I think you owe me an apology, Renato.
She slams the door and turns round. She sees Jenny watching her.
LOUISE: It’s hopeless with boys. It’s a waste of time to invite them. They’re just hopeless.
She walks briskly past Jenny towards the lounge room.
An hour later, Alison lounges on Jenny’s bed, cutting her toenails. Jenny is standing at the open window looking out.
The dull, endless thumping of the bass from the girls’ party below: sometimes it stops, then immediately begins again.
The women are drinking vodka. Jenny is eating peanuts out of a packet while she is watching an argument in the street and reporting its progress to Alison, who does not look up but makes murmured comments.
JENNY: Oh no. He’s crying. He’s got a big white hanky in his hand.
Pause.
Sound of a car door being slammed.
JENNY: She’s going back to her own car.
Another car door bangs.
JENNY: She’s locking herself in. Oh my God. He’s trying to open the door. Ah—she’s letting him in the passenger side.
ALISON (not looking up): Is there going to be violence?
JENNY: She’s trying to leave him. He loves her. She’s breaking his heart. Oh my God. She’s banging her head against the steering wheel. He’s getting out. She’s driving away. They’re waving to each other.
Pause.
JENNY: Now he’s getting back into his car. He’s lighting a cigarette. He’s not starting the motor. He’s just sitting there.
ALISON: Just as well. The state he’s in. There’d be carnage on the roads.
Jenny leans out the window and shouts.
JENNY: Time heals, mate! I’m forty, and I know!
ALISON (laughing): Shutup! He’ll hear you!
JENNY: He’s got the windows rolled up.
Alison gets off the bed and goes to the window. Jenny makes room for her and they lean side by side on the sill, looking out into the summer night. The street is full of parked cars. They drink.
A burst of laughter and rhythmical stamping from downstairs.
Down in the lounge room, the windows and blinds are shut tight. The girls’ faces are shiny with sweat and make-up. They have dragged out the dress-up trunk and are all attired in exaggerated outfits, clunky cork-soled wedgies, sequined tops; some are dressed as men. Loud music.
They are barricaded in and are having a wonderful time: a last glorious burst of childhood.
Kelly is joining in with gusto. She leaps up on the table and dances. A tremendous noise.
After midnight in Jenny’s lounge room. The lights are on. Nobody is there. The wreckage of the party.
The window is open.
A paper cup rolls across the table, pushed by the wind.
Two days later, in the afternoon, Jenny is down on her knees in the bathroom, scrubbing out the shower with Ajax. She is whistling and singing.
Sound of running feet in the street outside. The back gate bangs, the door slams. Feet running up the stairs.
LOUISE (voice-over): Mum? Mum!
JENNY (stands up): I’m in here.
Kelly and Louise burst in. They are both out of breath. Kelly’s face is puffed up from crying. Louise is panting with importance and outrage.
LOUISE: Mum! Malcolm’s changed his mind.
JENNY: About what?
LOUISE: He won’t let Kelly go.
Jenny still holding the sponge, stares at them, not understanding.
KELLY: He won’t let me go to City Girls’.
She begins to cry again.
JENNY: But you passed the exam. You got in.
LOUISE: He doesn’t care about that. He’s changed his mind. He hated the Orientation Night and now he won’t let her go. Mum, can’t you do something?
JENNY (still stunned): What can I do?
LOUISE: Talk to him! Go and see him! He’ll listen to you.
JENNY: No he won’t. He doesn’t even know me.
LOUISE: That doesn’t matter.
Louise bursts into tears. They are terribly worked up.
JENNY: But Kelly—surely your mother—
Kelly just shakes her head.
LOUISE: Oh please, Mum—can’t you help us?
JENNY: Look, sweetheart, I don’t see how I can. It’d only make things worse if I stuck my nose in. He’d say it was none of my business.
LOUISE (in a passion): Oh, it’s so unfair. And they rejoiced with us when we passed the exam! They drank the champagne and everything! I hate him!
Kelly has stepped back, as if she holds out no hope from anybody.
Louise puts her arm around Kelly’s waist (she can’t reach her shoulder) and they walk away together, crying, with their heads down.
Jenny is left holding the Ajax and the Wettex.
Ten o’clock on Christmas morning.
A car pulls up at Jenny’s front door.
Kelly gets out with a string bag and runs to the door.
The engine keeps running. She knocks. Jim opens.
JIM (surprised): Why didn’t you come round the back?
KELLY: Merry Christmas, Jim.
She rummages in her string bag and
produces a small parcel—it looks as if it contains a pencil. Jim is very surprised and stands looking at it.
Kelly passes him and goes into the house.
The same morning. Under the home-made tree, Louise is opening parcels, with Jenny.
Kelly enters, with Jim behind her.
KELLY: Hullo.
They greet her. Everyone is quiet.
LOUISE: There’s some presents for you here! Did you get any at home?
KELLY: Mum gave me a beach towel. I can’t stay. They’re waiting in the car. We’re going to Nanna’s.
Kelly looks subdued. Louise rounds up the parcels for her. Kelly unloads her two parcels, one for Jenny, and one for Louise. They contain small cheap objects but have been carefully wrapped.
Jenny leaves the room.
LOUISE: Did you talk to him?
KELLY (shrugs): It’s no good. He only yells at me, and then he starts fighting with Mum.
Louise is helpless. She’d like to comfort but doesn’t know how.
