Authors: Tammy Robinson
When we stumbled home, arm in arm, to Rangi’s house Cushla opened the front door and said fondly
as we made our way slowly and sometimes sideways up the path
, “Rangi, when are you going to grow up?” to which he
declared
“Never
!
” and
burped loudly
. “Who wants to grow up!” he declared, “Not me, I is hoppy...hic...happy, to still know how to have fun,” then he started singing at the top of his voice “Singing in the rain” even though he couldn’t sing and it wasn’t raining.
“Shush
you idiot
” said Cushla, “you’ll wake the whole bloody town!”
“Don’t care boring old stuffy shirts” he slurred, then he tripped over
his own feet
and all three of us fell headfirst into a hedge.
CHARLIE
She has nightmares sometimes. Thrashing, viole
nt nightmares where she wakes me with an accidental elbow to the head
. The first time it happened I didn’t know what to do, I got confused with sleepwalking and I didn’t know whether to try and wake her up or not. Eventually she calmed down that night but sometimes she doesn’t, sometimes I do wake her. She emerges from her sleep blearily, tearful,
and it
takes me
awhile
to settle her, comfort her,
and reassure
her that she’s safe.
I hold her while she cries
ever so
softly and I kiss her hair.
She says she can’t remember what they’re about, only that something or someone is trying to get her.
I
keep on holding her
while her breathing
softly slows
and she drifts back
in
to sleep.
PEARL
July came, and with it an acceptance of something I’d been both avoiding and dreading. The clothes I had brought were with me were no longer enough now that I was working and the weather had turned so cold. Who’d have known it
can get so
cold at the beach? Not me that’s for sure.
So I
bit the bullet and
called mum and asked her to
please go to my flat and
bring some of my winter wardrobe over. She was
over the moon to hear from me and even more excited that
I would let her
visit, so arrived
the next day. She would “stay a few days”, she said on the phone when I called; just to “make sure you’re looking after yourself properly”.
“What do you mean,
‘
looking after myself properly
’
, you think I’m not capable?”
I looked after myself just fine after you fell to pieces, is what I wanted to say
but didn’t
.
“Not at all, I just meant, you know....” she trailed off.
“I don’t need checking up on mum, I’m fine”
“I’m sure you are, but there’s nothing strange about a mother wanting to spend some time with her daughter is there?”
Well yeah, there is actually, I thought but didn’t say. My mother had never been particularly maternal. She wasn’t bad, but she wasn’t a ‘cook you chicken soup when you’re sick’ or ‘hug you when you’re crying’ kind of mum. More of a, ‘there, there, here’s a pat on the back and now that’s quite enough of that thank you very much’ kind.
So I took a wild guess.
“She told you didn’t she”
“Who told me?”
“Mum” my voice was a warning, “don’t play games. Gran’s told you hasn’t she”
She caved. “Yes, she has”, she admitted.
“I can’t believe she did that!”
“She was only doing what you should have done! Don’t you think your parents have the right to know?”
“Parents? You’ve told dad too?”
“Of course I have! I had too, you
must
understand that”
“No I don’t actually. It’s my business and nobody else’s. She had no right”
“Don’t be mad at her, she loves you. We all do. I just can’t believe....you’re...my little...”
Then she started crying so I gave in, stopped arguing. I hadn’t heard her cry since dad left.
“Mum, I’ll see you tomorrow”
“We need to talk about it Pearl”
“No” I said, cold,
my voice a warning,
“we don’t.”
I told Charlie I needed a couple of days off, by myself. He was as understanding as usual.
“Sure,” he said, and then ten seconds later, “hang on, when you say ‘by yourself’ do you mean I should or shouldn’t come out to see you after work?”
“Shouldn’t”
“Oh. Ok, sure.”
I sighed, “Charlie, it’s not personal, I just want to do a little reading, and...” thinking quickly, “...maybe clean the
Beach house
up, I haven’t done any cleaning since I’ve been here and it really needs a good going over.”
“I could help...if you like?”
“No, it’s my job, not yours. I’m sure your mum’s missing you too; you haven’t slept at your place for ages”
I didn’t tell him my mum was coming. I hadn’t told either about the other yet. If I told him she was coming he would wonder why I didn’t want him to meet her. It wasn’t that I didn’t want
him
to; I just didn’t
want
him to. Yes I’m aware that makes no sense. I couldn’t explain it, this desire of mine to keep these two worlds separated
for as long as I possibly could
.
CHARLIE
I miss her. Which I know makes me sound like a total loser because it’s only been
a few
days, but I don’t care. Paint a big L on my forehead and be done with it.
At work I realise how popular she’s become, people ask where she is when they come in to buy their newspapers.
“Where’s your better half” more than one of them asks me.
It makes me feel proud. We are obviously ‘a couple’ in other people’s eyes
as well as my own
.
The fact she wants some time out to clean the Beach house doesn’t surprise or bother me, just the opposite, it makes me happy to know she is house proud after all as I was starting to worry just a little.
I tried quietly to clean the place up
without her noticing
; doing the dishes after she cooked, even though it seemed like she used every bowl and every utensil on purpose. I pick up her clothes at night and put them on the dresser table, she seems to drop them wherever she sheds them; I find her knickers in the lounge or even on the deck.
But I am surprised she needs time alone to do it. Is she embarrassed? She shouldn’t be. It would take more than a messy house to turn me off. Has she got her period again? That could explain why she was a little bit tense and snappy and less than patient when she told me she needed a couple of days of.
I asked mum what made her happier when she was suffering her ‘time of the month’.
“Chocolate” she said, after thinking about it. “And to be told I’m beautiful when I’m feeling like a fat, bloated whale”.
“Ohhhkaay”
“Honey,” she said, “I know boys have their own issues with hormones during puberty, with your balls dropping and your voice changing and everything...”
“Geez, don’t hold back mum”
“...but that only lasts, what a couple of years, and then you’re through it right? You have NO idea what a woman has to deal with
month after month
for most of her life, bloating and fluid retention and raging hormones and cramps and low iron levels
and bloody acne and stray hairs in
random
places
, and the only time it stops is when you hit menopause and oh boy, don’t get me started on that”
I was already wishing I hadn’t got her started on this.
“Don’t worry, I won’t”.
So I thought about what she said and I went and bought Pearl some Cadbury Old Gold (70% cocoa – the good stuff
that I know she likes
), and a
pretty pin
k with yellow flowers
wheat pack, one you’re supposed to heat up in the microwave (to help with cramps) and some of those girly gossip magazines she likes. All day at work I thought I was the bee’s knees as far as boyfriends go, and once she saw what I’d got for her I was sure I would be earning some serious brownie points.
Do you want to know what I thought when I saw another car parked out front of the
Beach house
? Honestly, I put two and two together and came up with five. I thought the fact that she’d asked me to stay away and the red Holden Astra meant that right then she was inside with another guy, someone from the city.
Did I stay or did I go?
I stayed. I marched up the deck to the ranch slider, ready to knock someone’s block off (desperately hoping he was smaller than me) and stopped short when I saw Pearl sitting up at the breakfast bar, her beautiful legs dangling in some cute
white
denim jeans I hadn’t seen before. It’s funny the things you notice in a crisis situation. Her face went
pale
when she saw me, (well,
paler
than normal) which only made me sure I was right.
“Where is he?”
“Charlie, what are you doing here?”
We spoke at the same time.
“Wait” she said, “what?”
“Surprising you!”
“Woah you two” laughed a woman I hadn’t seen because she’d been in the shadow
s
of the kitchen. She walked around the corner of the bench and I knew straight away it was Pearl’s mum, she had the same eyes and chin, but with more wrinkles and a little extra padding.
“How about you speak one at a time?” she suggested.
Pearls eyes were narrow; she knew what I had been thinking. “Idiot” she said.
“Sorry”
“We’ll talk about it later”
Her mum watched us curiously. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?” she asked.
“Mum, Charlie, Charlie, Mum”.
“Nice to meet you” her mum said.
“You too....?”
“Claire”
“...Claire”.
“And Charlie is...?”
“A friend” Pearl said, a little too quickly for my liking.