‘Art?’ cried Meredith, rearing back in her chair. ‘Oh no, this isn’t art! I don’t do art, James,
you’re
the artist!’
He looked at her sharply. She appeared perfectly sincere and even faintly appalled; her protestations weren’t false modesty, they were real.
She’s really good and she has no idea
, he thought. Suddenly he longed to be able to tell her what their mother had said:
She was only little, but she had something. I thought she might’ve become an illustrator, an artist of some kind.
‘Do you have more of these? Would you show them to me?’
‘Well, sure, if you want to. I’ve got heaps of ’em, actually. Laurence calls them my journal things. He quite likes them,’ she said, looking a bit embarrassed.
‘I do too,’ said James with feeling. He took a deep breath; at last, he had made up his mind. ‘And, Meredith, I’ve got some really important news. But I think I should tell everyone at the same time, you and Deb and Robert. What if we organise another family meeting, what d’you reckon?’
‘Ooh-ah! Important news!’ Meredith goggled theatrically. ‘Hope it’s
good
news! Can I have a tiny weeny hint?’
James shook his head. ‘Best not.’
‘Ohhh,’ she sighed, drawing out the disappointment. ‘Okay then. Well, just as long as you do the ring-around, James, ’cause you know I’m hopeless at organising things.’
James laughed, but he was thinking,
Are you? I’m not so sure that you’re hopeless at all.
CHAPTER 24
‘Hey, cuz,’ said Laurence to Olivia, looming behind his mother as they arrived at Deborah’s on the Sunday afternoon of the siblings’ meeting. ‘Thought I’d come and hang out with you for the duration.’
‘Ex-cellent!’ she breathed in a Monty Burns gloat. ‘D’y’wanna come to the park with me and Congo? I’m giving him a solo training sesh.’
‘Sure.’
‘Olivia,’ called Deborah, ‘Can you take those DVDs by the front door back to the video shop? And take some money, if you want to get something to watch later.’
After about fifty metres of Congo trotting decorously at heel, Laurence commented, ‘Looks like you’ve got the infamous wild dog tamed. Congratulations.’
‘Oh no, this is just the good bit. Once we got the “heel” thing down, he decided he loves being on a lead. But only as long as we keep walking. If we stop, he goes mental. He’s hopeless. No, that’s not true: he just wants to run everything his way, not mine.’
It was true. Even after months of consistent, firm, patient repetition, Olivia couldn’t say Congo was trained, not reliably. He exasperated
her, challenged her like no other animal she’d ever had, but she loved him with a passion. He had more intelligence and cunning, more strength and agility, more sheer bloody-minded wilfulness packed into that tough little tan and white body than any other dog she’d ever known. He’d grown into the too-big skin of his puppyhood but kept the furrowed brow; his mouth was not big but his jaw was incredibly powerful. Most of the time he was eerily silent, but if he was angry or upset he made a frightening, liquid sound from deep in his body; Olivia had read it described as ‘a bloodcurdling yodel’. Having heard it, that description didn’t seem melodramatic.
He detested being tied up. Rope or ordinary leads he just tore to pieces. Olivia was walking him today on a new lead, a choke-chain combined with a short, very thick leather strap. She hooked the handle over a post outside the video store, knowing she only had a few minutes before he would get impatient, but they dithered over their selection and she looked up just in time to see Congo step deliberately away from the post to pull the lead taut, then turn his head faster than the eye could follow, sever the leather strap with two deep, jerking bites, and take off.
‘Wow,’ said Laurence, examining the end of the lead now hanging forlornly from the post. ‘This has got to be a good centimetre thick. More like two.’
‘I hope I can at least reuse the choker,’ said Olivia. ‘This cost a fortune.’
‘If only he could use these powers for good, hey? What do we do now?’
‘He’ll be heading for the park, we’ll catch up with him there. We’ll probably have a really good training session once he’s caused his bit of havoc.’
As they walked towards the park they could see Congo far ahead, racing along the road, darting joyously in and out of the traffic.
‘You know what he’s doing, Ol? He’s playing chasey with the cars. That dog is
insane
, you know that?’
‘What dog? I never saw that dog before in my life, okay?’
‘Whatever you say.’
‘Actually, he really isn’t my dog. Mintie and Fly-by are mine; Congo is my mum’s dog.’
Laurence raised one eyebrow.
‘No, seriously,’ she insisted. ‘Mum bought him, Mum reckons he’s hers. Her special dog. You ask her.’
‘Doesn’t matter who
bought
him. You’re the one who does everything with him. Takes him to dog obedience school and all that.’
‘Not any more. He got expelled.’
‘Shit, I didn’t know dogs could get expelled!’
‘Nor did I,’ Olivia said gloomily. ‘They said he was too disruptive. He scares people.
I
don’t think he’s scary, but I have to admit he terrifies the other animals. The rats and the rabbits, they’re petrified of him, they start literally shaking if he comes anywhere near them.’
‘Well, gee, Ol, can you blame them? Considering he’s probably busy figuring out how to tear them limb from tiny limb.’
‘Yeah, it’s the truth. I just hope he settles down some time before I have a fatal heart attack.’ They walked on together companionably and then Olivia, glancing sidelong up at her cousin, said, ‘Hey, Laurence? You know this girl I told you about at school? Fleur? She’s kind of changed what the other kids call me.’
‘Yeah?’
‘They all call me Liv these days, that’s kind of become my name.’
‘Like Liv Tyler? Who played Arwen? Smooth!
Liv
.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Cool. So, Liv, how’s it going at school?’ he asked, pushing his hair back from his forehead in a way that reminded Olivia of someone.
Uncle James
, she realised, even though Laurence’s hair was blondish, not dark.
‘Not bad, actually. Fleur’s pretty amazing: she was determined to get us involved in the school play, and wham!’ She snapped her fingers. ‘Now we are! I’m assisting on lights, she’s doing stage dressing
and wardrobe stuff. It’s cool. Almost everyone else is like, Year 10, Year 11. A few Year 12s, the ones who’re doing Drama for VCE. Much better than hanging with the kids my age. They’re maggots, most of ’em.’
‘Hang in there, it’ll only get better. Trust me.’
‘Yeah. How’s it going for you?’
‘Pretty intense. We just did some more practice exams and I did shithouse.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah, really. But so did everyone. They make them mad hard just to scare you, I reckon.’
‘O-kay. So when are the real exams?’
‘End of November. Couple of months. Fuck.’
‘Are you worried?’
‘More worried since the other night. I think my mum might’ve started drinking again.’
‘Oh, crap! What happened?’
‘I got home a couple of nights ago and she was just really spaced. You know how she’s been renting our house since forever, before I was born?’ Olivia nodded. ‘Well the old guy who owned it just died. Mr Domasi. Mum loved him. And now the family’s going to sell it, like
soon
. And Mum just freaked. She says she didn’t crack, but she sure was acting weird. You’d think no one had ever moved before.’
‘Oh great. So when will you have to move?’
‘Not till after my exams, so I’m okay about that. But if Mum starts getting wasted again, I’m not going to hack it. You know my friend Tristan?’
‘Yeah, who drove me and Grandpa home that time, right?’
‘Yeah. Well, his older brother’s moved out and his parents are sweet for me to live there. I earn enough from watering at the nursery to pay board. They’re like this totally sane, together family. And I just can’t afford to be stuffed around this next couple of months.’
‘Have you told your mum that?’
‘No, but I will.’
‘Boy. You know what? Your mum’s not the only one acting weird. My mum’s lost it too. Looks like my parents are getting a divorce.’
‘You’re shitting me!’
‘Nuh. You know I told you about Marion, this woman my dad’s on with? She’s pregnant.’
‘Full
on
! Hey, you were going to meet her, right, Ol?’ Laurence blinked and corrected himself. ‘Liv. Not Olive. Just Liv.’
She nodded an acknowledgement. ‘Yeah. And she’s actually not a horrible person. But still.’
‘Still,’ he agreed. ‘Man. If I have kids one day and start doing shit like this, slap me, will ya?’
‘Count on it. Same for me. Okay, here’s the hound from hell. Yeah, you! Maniac! So, Laurence, you wanna hang here while I do the training stuff? Or you could walk around, come back in about half an hour.’
‘I’ll cruise. We need some rope or something, right?’
‘Yeah, that’d be excellent.’
Just as Olivia had predicted, Congo was now happy to be put through his paces in the training session. Heading out of the park, with a lead cobbled together out of the choker chain and a length of baling twine Laurence had snaffled from somewhere, Olivia asked her cousin, ‘Hey, you know your mum’s journal things? Does she do stuff in them about her mum?’
Laurence shrugged. ‘Maybe. Yeah. Dunno.’
‘Does she ever like, write to her or anything? Letters?’
‘You mean, to England? Nup, how could she? She doesn’t know where she lives or anything. Why?’
‘Cause
my
mum’s been writing to her, and she doesn’t know where she lives either. I found this huge stash of letters.’
‘Huh?’ Laurence frowned at her. ‘So where does she send ’em?’
‘She doesn’t,’ Olivia said. ‘She just keeps them. Like you said, no address.’
‘Totally random! Are these letters she wrote when she was a kid or something?’
‘Some, yeah. Ever since her mum nicked off. But off and on the whole time, and
heaps
since Dad’s been having this thing with Marion.’
‘Oh
man
.’ Laurence pulled a sorry face, shaking his head in disgust or despair. ‘That is so sad.’
‘Deeply,’ Olivia agreed. ‘Tragic. When are they gonna grow up? That’s what I wonder.’
‘Dunno, cuz. On the evidence… not any time soon.’ They were nearly back to Olivia’s house now. ‘Hey,’ he asked, ‘d’you know what this meeting’s about, exactly?’
‘More stuff about Grandpa, I think. I’m really getting worried, Mum reckons Grandpa might have to go into a home.’
‘Uh-oh. That would be horrible. And it’d freak my mum out completely. Shit.’
‘I know. I think they might be having a big, you know, a big showdown about it.’
‘Damn.’ Laurence gripped her shoulder and gave it a small comradely squeeze. ‘Well, here we are. Assume the brace position.’
They put Congo in the backyard and went inside. Heard the sounds coming from the living room, stopped dead, looked at each other.
Not good.
At least three people were talking at once, loudly, and Meredith was crying, also loudly. But maybe she was also one of the people talking?
‘Uh-oh,’ said Laurence.
‘We could run away,’ suggested Olivia hopefully. It was a joke.
Olivia and Laurence pushed open the living-room door and stood side by side in the doorway, each with their arms folded in front of them. No one noticed their arrival. Meredith was weeping unrestrainedly, sitting in one corner of the couch, but as they watched she raised her head and cried in a tearful clogged voice, ‘
How
long, James?
How
long have you known?’
Deborah was crying, too, but less noisily, with both hands covering her face. Uncle Robert, standing by the window, turned and said apparently to the room at large, ‘This is unconscionable. Utterly unconscionable!’ He had his glasses off, and there were tears glistening in his eyes, too, and that was what made Olivia suddenly feel frightened. An awful thought hit her.
‘Has something happened to Grandpa?’ she cried. ‘Is he dead?’
Now all the adults fell silent, frozen for a moment in their strange tableau. Then Uncle James took a couple of steps towards them. She had never seen him so upset. His mouth was trembling.
‘No, he’s fine. It’s… I’ve found your
grandmother
.’
‘Our grandmother?’ said Olivia uncomprehendingly.
Laurence asked, ‘You mean like,
your
mother? All of yours… mother?’
‘Who went to England?’ Olivia put in.
‘Yes. Our mother, yes.’
Olivia and Laurence looked at each other in disbelief.
We were just talking about her. This is too weird.
‘She’s, what, like, just turned up?’
‘Well, yes, kind of,’ said James unhappily. ‘Not “just”, really.’
‘In England?’
I sound like a moron
, Olivia thought. James nodded. ‘And is she… okay?’ she asked. ‘I mean, is she really sick or something? Or like,
crazy
?’
‘No!’ said James vehemently. ‘Oh, no, no, no. She’s fine. Completely fine.’
‘But isn’t this,’ asked Laurence hesitantly, ‘like, a good thing?’
‘Oh
god
,’ came loudly from Deborah, a half-moan, half-snarl from behind her hands. ‘Oh god,
no
!’
Laurence and Olivia jerked and looked at her. They had been so focused on what Uncle James was saying they had almost forgotten the others.
Uncle Robert had a handkerchief out now and was mopping at his eyes ferociously. He held the hankie out in front of him and
suddenly yelled at it, ‘AARRRHHH!’ Everyone jumped and stared at him. He shoved the hankie in his pocket and put his glasses back on.
‘We’ve all had… ’ he began, but his voice was reedy and wobbled a bit. He cleared his throat and started again. ‘We’ve all just had a bit of a shock. That’s all. Olivia, my girl, would you mind putting the kettle on?’
‘Good idea,’ said Olivia, leaving the room with alacrity.
‘I’ll help!’ offered Laurence, hard on her heels. They closed the living-room door firmly behind them, leaving the four siblings staring twitchily at each other other like a team of spooked horses deciding whether to bolt.