Monkey Business (2 page)

The next morning was agonising in every possible way. Thinking about the past was distressing, the current moment painful, and the future disastrous. The night before, Jack, Steve and Lucy had walked me home from the pub where the happy couple waved and drove off, but not before Steve asked Jack if he was interested in playing squash on Tuesday nights, to which Jack said he was but couldn't commit to every week. I'd asked Jack if he wanted to come in for coffee, to which he responded by checking his watch and saying he had an early start, kissing my cheek and driving away without making any plans for more time with
me
.

And this moment sucked because there was just me, alone in my house, apart from my cat.

And thinking about the future caused general panic about everything. Not least the fact that it was Saturday morning and I had not a single plan for the weekend.

On the pillow next to me Axle was suddenly awake. He pounced on my stomach so abruptly and with such fierceness I jumped and squealed, even though I'm always expecting it. Then he darted away, changed personality, and returned purring softly and bumping my hand gently with his head. Breakfast time, and that too was something I needed to be ready for because if I'm not quick enough, he might decide to go hunt his own and leave some for me. Something headless or a nice piece of offal, for example.

I rolled out of bed, stretched, yawned, pushed fingers through my weighty curls to untangle them. I shivered and pulled on my bright-pink Ugg boots, a present from Lucy and much nicer than the Woolworths nana slippers Mum had given me, which I couldn't take to the op shop because Mum always looked for them when she called in. It was a cold morning but the sun was shining and it was already a gorgeous day. I thought how nice it would be to go for a walk in the Botanic Gardens with a handsome guy – some hired-gun type – or maybe a bike ride along the Yarra River. Brunch on Swan Street, where I first met Jack. Well, where I first met him after the
initial
meeting, when he was in disguise and bleeding to death in my front garden. I hadn't recognised him when he'd come into that cafe and sat opposite me two weeks later. He'd wanted his gun back. It was in my laundry hamper. Now I have my own gun in my laundry hamper. At least, I assume it's still there. I never touch the bottom of the pile because I'm scared of it – the gun, not the dirty laundry.

I had a shower, dressed and headed for the kitchen. My house is pretty basic: a small, semi-detached Victorian, only five metres wide, with a tiny courtyard garden at the front and a long passageway that runs from the front door past my bedroom, the spare bedroom and the bathroom, which doubles as the laundry. There's an open kitchen/living room at the back that looks out through French doors to a miniature backyard and carport. My house was in desperate need of renovating. The walls were either bare brick or 1980s salmon pink.

Axle was crouched at the French doors, tail twitching, his eye on something scuttling around out there. Hopefully something that would stay out there or preferably scuttle next door and get eaten by
their
cat.

‘Here, baby.' I took his food from the fridge and scooped some into his bowl. Axle trotted across the room, leaped onto the bench and scoffed it down. The eating-from-the-bench habit was something he picked up at Jack's house when we were staying there. Everyone is spoiled at Jack's house.

My landline rang and I answered it.

‘Good morning,' said Jack.

‘Oh! Hi! Surprise!'

‘What's the surprise?'

‘Well, that you're calling me.'

‘Why are you surprised?'

‘Well . . . because I just saw you last night. Don't want to get sick of each other.' I laughed in an overacting kind of way and felt like an idiot.

And Jack, being considerate, respectful and well-mannered, changed the subject. ‘Have you got any plans today?'

‘Yes, heaps. In fact, I'm exhausted thinking about everything I've got to do.'

‘Shame,' he said. ‘It's a beautiful day.'

‘What were you thinking?' I asked. ‘I mean, they're not so important I can't shuffle them around, fit in something else.'

‘I thought we could have a picnic at the zoo.'

‘I
love
the zoo.'

‘But it'd be all afternoon, and if you don't have time for that —'

‘It's fine. I can fit it in.'

‘We can go another time —'

‘No, let's go today.'

‘Next week maybe —'

‘I want to go to the goddamn zoo!'

He chuckled. ‘I'll pick you up.'

‘What should I bring? I need to go shopping.'

‘I've got it all. Joe's re-stocked the cupboards.'

‘So . . . Joe's back too? From wherever you guys went.'

‘He is.'

‘Don't suppose you could survive long without Joe.'

Jack tried to sound annoyed but I could tell he was smiling. ‘I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself, Erica. I'm a big boy. And military-trained, remember.'

‘Soldiers don't have to cook for themselves. Unless they're in the jungle, but even then I suppose you just eat worms and poison berries.'

‘I'll pick you up at twelve,' he said, the only possible response he could have to the rubbish I was talking.

‘See you then.' I hung up and danced around on the spot.

It took me ages to find something to wear that didn't look like I'd spent any time on it. I finally settled on my old jeans because my bum looked nice in them, a T-shirt that clung in all the right spots and was just the right length even though it was old and worn, and my comfy old sneakers because I thought we'd be doing a bit of walking. And no make-up. I checked myself out in the full-length mirror. I looked like a homeless person. It took me two minutes to change into something nice.

Jack knocked on the door at quarter to twelve. Fifteen minutes early, but I was expecting it because he's always early. Usually half an hour. I suspected this annoying habit developed after he was late for breakfast with his parents and wife in New York on September 11, 2001. They were waiting for him at the top of the World Trade Centre. Personally, I was glad he wasn't on time for that particular appointment.

‘You look nice,' he said.

‘This old thing?'

He stepped inside and kissed my cheek.

I said, ‘Do you want coffee before we go?'

‘You make horrible instant coffee.'

‘Well, I've got an expensive coffee machine some guy gave me for Christmas.'

‘Some guy?'

‘A pretty cute one. But I don't know how to use it, the machine.'

‘I showed you how to use it the day I gave it to you. And several times since.'

Axle galloped up the passageway from the living room. ‘Shit,' said Jack and stepped back. Axle loves Jack, but in a weird kind of way. He launched himself at Jack's leg and hung off his thigh like a koala. ‘Jesus, that hurts. His claws are getting sharper. And longer.'

‘You need to catch him before he attaches.' I pulled gently at Axle's little paws and cooed, coaxing him.

‘You make him sound like a leech.'

Axle released and darted under my bed, chasing some imaginary mouse. Well, I hoped it was imaginary.

I said, ‘Maybe we should just get going.'

‘Good idea,' Jack said, rubbing his leg.

We drove in Jack's lovely old convertible Mustang. A 1967 model, he'd told me, the only other time we'd driven in it, last Christmas Day. My car's almost as old, but not a classic. I don't think Mazda makes classics. And Jack's doesn't have rust. He's got a garage full of cars and motorbikes but I like the Mustang best.

As we skirted the city, he said loudly, so I could hear him over the wind, road noise and radio, ‘Are you still thinking about an investment property?'

Before Jack had left on his mission, I'd asked him to advise me on buying another property, but now I wasn't so sure.

‘I think I'll renovate instead,' I said. ‘Good idea?'

He nodded. ‘Can't go wrong.'

But I really wanted to ask about the mission. It was hard to talk though, with all the noise, and it didn't seem appropriate to shout out, ‘So, did you kill anyone?' Instead I asked if he wanted to eat straightaway or have a walk around when we got there.

‘Walk,' he said.

As we headed for the zoo entrance, I said, ‘Will you have to go away again?' He didn't respond and he was carrying all the picnic things so I said, ‘Why don't you let me take some of that?'

‘I'm fine.'

‘Here.' I took the picnic rug from under his arm so now he just had a basket and small esky to carry. I thought if I took one of those things it would free up his hand so he could hold mine.

‘Thanks,' he said.

‘Give me the basket.' I tried to take it.

‘No, I'm fine.'

‘Really, I want to help.' I pulled at the basket and it fell on the ground. A packet of biscuits rolled out. ‘Sorry.' Without looking at him, bent over the basket, I said, ‘You didn't answer my question.'

‘Yes, I will.'

‘Oh.'

We stood in a short queue behind some mums and their kids. The mums were trying to discreetly check out Jack. I've noticed that when women perv at him, they also look me up and down and I know what they're thinking.
She's not good enough
.

‘I'll pay,' I said, reaching for my purse.

‘No, I've got it.' He took his wallet from his back pocket.

‘But you always pay.'

‘And I always will.'

I
love
monkeys. They're so funny, and the spider ones remind me of Axle. We watched them for ages and I chortled at the constant parade of mischief. When I glanced at Jack he was watching me, not the monkeys, with a smile. He held out his hand, I took it and we walked, and stood in front of the baboons with their pink bums. One picked a flea from another and ate it. I can understand why Darwin's theory holds water.

Jack turned his back on the baboons and leaned against the glass wall, arms folded across his chest. ‘I've got a favour to ask.'

‘Name it,' I said. Although I should probably try to play hard to get, I thought, even just a little.

‘I can't tell you about this mission, but I need your help with it.'

I didn't think he was happy about asking me whatever he was about to ask, and that made me nervous because Jack and I work secretly for an organisation of vigilantes called ‘the Team'. Jack's job is to quietly, illegally go about eradicating nasty types from Melbourne's streets. And my job is to take Jack's orders if and when he has any. But I didn't think this current mission was based in Melbourne, and I also hadn't realised it was a Team assignment. Jack is a consultant for the federal police and armed forces too.

‘What's wrong?' I said.

‘Nothing,' he said, too quickly, and adjusted his sunglasses. He looked at his feet. ‘There's a guy I need you to watch.'

He glanced at me and I nodded for him to continue.

‘My team for this job isn't ideal.' He paused. ‘The reason I'm asking you is because I trust you.'

‘
What
are you asking me?' This was serious shit. Jack didn't need anyone for anything. Except Joe to cook his dinner and organise the cleaning lady.

‘Joe's on my team – obviously I trust him – and one of the others I selected because of his experience, but the fourth guy I don't know well enough. I think he uses drugs, and I can't have that.'

‘Right.'

‘There's a club he likes in Richmond, near your house. Would you go there? Watch him and report back?'

‘Sure.'

‘Thanks.'

‘Can I take Lucy?'

He looked away, considering it. ‘Yes. Take Lucy. No details though.'