New Guinea Moon (9 page)

‘I should go and talk to Simon — I feel bad running off like that,' she calls into Ryan's ear at the end of the song.

‘Relax! It's not your problem. He'll find someone else to talk to, you don't have to babysit him. He's a big boy. He took the risk of coming; he can look after himself. His choice.' Ryan puts his mouth boldly close to her ear and whispers, ‘You look great tonight.'

Julie tries to look over her shoulder to check if Simon has drifted back into the side garden, the centre of the party, but she can't see him. Ryan whoops as a faster, rockier song comes on the stereo, and he grabs her hands, her cup goes flying, spilling a spray of punch across the grass, and they dance, and she forgets about Simon.

The music swirls, the stars turn, Julie kicks off her sandals and the grass is damp with dew and soft beneath her tender soles, her head spinning, the taste of punch sweet on her tongue, and the shadow of Ryan tethered to her side, Ryan's hand reaching for hers, Ryan's eyes locked on her face, just as if she were beautiful. When the lights snuff out and the music abruptly breaks off, the garden plunges into black, and groans and jeers ring out.

‘Bloody power failure!'

‘Useless bastards!'

Teddie drifts about with candles and a cigarette lighter, slender as a fire fairy, and Andy produces a guitar from somewhere and perches on the edge of the concrete laundry trough to strum and sing. Everyone laughs, and Julie laughs too, because everyone else is laughing. And Ryan seizes her hands and pulls her into a dark corner of the garden, sheltered by a passionfruit vine, and pushes his mouth hungrily onto hers.

It's her first kiss. Her blood fizzes. Her hands creep to his face, the soft stubble of his jaw, his warm skin. His arms wrap around her, pressing her into his body. Are they hidden, or do Teddie's candles betray them?

Julie pushes Ryan's hands gently from her waist and turns her face aside. ‘Okay, okay,' she murmurs. Her face feels smeared, her lips swollen. Has Simon seen them? She wants him to be watching, but if he's seen them, she will die. ‘Wait, wait,' she whispers against Ryan's butting mouth. ‘I just need to —' She breaks away.

Ryan pulls her back against him. ‘Don't disappear.'

‘I'll come back,' she promises. ‘I'll be back in a minute.'

She tears herself away and slips along the fence, around the shadowy fringe of the party, toward the other side of the house. The night air is cool against her flushed face. The three spindly trees are silhouetted against the starry sky, a thicket of bamboo rustles by the water tank, like some lumbering, half-asleep beast.
My first kiss, my first kiss
. Under the New Guinea moon
. . .
She touches her lips with her fingertips.

‘Simon? Are you there?'

Someone giggles in the dense shadow beside the house. The scent of sweet smoke drifts across the grass. ‘No one here except us, darling.'

‘Sorry, sorry —'

Julie stumbles away. He's gone.

‘Real knowledge,' breathes a sudden voice out of the darkness, ‘is to know the extent of one's ignorance.' Tombstone teeth gleam, like a skull's smile, leering up out of the night.

Julie yelps. ‘Gibbo! You scared me!'

‘Sorry, love,' says Gibbo, and he vanishes, folding back into the dark like a bat.

Julie leans against the wall, her heart hammering. Simon has gone. But Tony must be here somewhere, by now. Soon it will be time to go home, and leave Ryan behind. And deep down, Julie knows she is slightly relieved. She raises her fingers to her lips. Is it weird to feel that thinking about being kissed — anticipating it, then reliving it afterwards — is more fun than the actual kissing?

She can see Ryan, swimming through the wavering candlelight, looking for her. She touches her upswept hair, her floaty dress, and all at once she feels unsure of who she is. Who is Ryan searching for — Princess Juliet, spun into existence by Teddie and Andy? Or plain Julie McGinty? Would Ryan have kissed plain Julie McGinty?

She stands by the fence, wrapping darkness around her like a cloak, and watches, waiting to be found.

8

When Lina failed to show up on the morning after Julie offered her the job, Julie had felt guiltily relieved. The problem was solved without her having to do anything. Lina must have decided she didn't want to be a meri after all, or she'd got another job. Or something. If she didn't turn up, there's nothing Julie can do about it. She can hardly go out and search for her; she is absolved of responsibility.

But then, on the Monday morning after the Spargos' Christmas party, Lina comes back.

Julie answers a tap at the door, expecting to find Ryan on the doorstep. Instead it's Lina, smiling hopefully. Tony has already set off for work, so she will have to handle this alone.

Julie swallows. ‘I'm so sorry
. . .
There's been a mistake. I shouldn't have offered you a job without checking first. Tony — my father — says he doesn't need a meri
. . .
' She's worried that Lina won't understand what she's saying, but she sees the girl's face fall, and apparently her meaning is clear enough. Without a word, Lina gathers herself and begins to turn away.

‘No, wait! Hang on a minute —' Julie fumbles for her purse. The spending money that Caroline gave her has almost gone, but there's a five-dollar note still crumpled inside. ‘Please — take this.'

Lina stares at the pink note as if she doesn't know what it is.

‘It's for you. For your trouble. It's — it's compensation,' says Julie with sudden inspiration.

Lina nods, then flashes her a brief, shy smile. Then she tucks the money away inside her clothes and retreats. Julie shuts the door and leans against it. Five dollars is a lot of money, she tells herself; especially for a national. For five dollars, she shouldn't be feeling so rotten.

‘Oh, dear, no,' says Barbara. ‘That was the
worst
thing you could have done. She'll be back, tomorrow or the next day, with her hand out. You'll see.'

‘But I had to give her something,' says Julie. ‘I promised.'

‘I'm sure you didn't
promise
,' says Barbara. ‘And it's not as if you had anything in writing.'

‘Well, no, but —' Julie stops, because Barbara is clearly not interested in continuing the discussion, and she's learned from arguments with Caroline that there's no point in trying. She wonders how, when Barbara and Caroline's ideas about the world are so different, she can manage to disagree with both of them
. . .

‘Come on,' says Ryan, and he, Julie and Nadine drift out through the kitchen to the sunny patch of concrete outside the back door. Koki is already there, sitting on the ground, shelling peas into a tin basin between her knees. Ryan steals a handful and she smacks his knuckles. Julie picks up some pea pods and starts to slit them open with her thumbnail.

‘Tenkyu
,' says Koki, and adds something in Pidgin about ungrateful, lazy children, which Julie can understand without knowing a word. She and Koki grin peacefully at each other.

Nadine stretches her legs into the sun. ‘Last year the Williamses were still here,' she says mournfully. ‘And the Spitellis. We'd hang out with them every day
. . .
Now it's just us.'

Silently Julie splits the pods, and thumbs the peas into the basin, aware of herself as a poor substitute for the missing Williams and Spitelli clans.

Nadine sighs. ‘What about Monopoly?'

Ryan ignores her. He nudges Julie's foot with his own. ‘Want to go for a bike ride?'

‘But we've only got two bikes,' says Nadine.

‘Julie can ride yours. No one said you were invited, squirt. This excursion is for Julie and I.'

Julie and me
, thinks Julie automatically. She says, ‘We could go for a walk. That way Nads can come too.' Secretly she is quite happy to have Nadine along as a chaperone. She knows if they were alone, Ryan would try to kiss her again, even on bicycles, and while it's pleasant to think that he wants to, she's not completely sure that
she
wants to. Julie shifts uncomfortably on her bottom. It's never like this in books
. . .

‘Yeah, let's go for a walk. We can bring Roxy!' says Nadine, brightening.

Ryan shrugs. ‘All right. But if you bring the dog, you look after her, okay? If she gets off the lead, I'm not chasing after her. If she ends up in someone's cooking pot, it's your problem.'

‘You're a pig, Ryan,' says Nadine. ‘No, you're not. Pigs are lovely. You're a — a warthog.'

Julie looks at Ryan. ‘They don't really eat dogs?'

Ryan frowns and motions her to shush. From inside the house, through an open window, comes a muffled noise of banging drawers and slammed doors. ‘What's Mum up to? Rearranging the furniture again?'

Nadine sits up, suddenly alert, like a rabbit who senses a hawk overhead.

The rapid
clack-clack
of Barbara's heels crosses the parquetry. Inside the kitchen, she calls, ‘Koki!
Yu kam hariap!
Can I speak to you for a minute, please?'

Koki rolls her eyes, climbs laboriously to her feet, and shuffles inside. The screen door bangs behind her. Julie pulls the basin closer and continues shelling the peas. From inside the kitchen comes the sound of Barbara's raised, querulous voice, and a low, protesting murmur from Koki. Julie sees Nadine and Ryan exchange a worried glance.

Nadine scrambles to her feet. ‘I'm going to find out what's going on —'

Ryan lays a restraining hand on her arm. ‘Hang on —'

They all sit tensed, as if waiting for a signal, while the voices rise and fall in the kitchen. At last Nadine can bear it no longer. She shakes off Ryan's hand and rushes inside.

Julie looks at Ryan. ‘Should we —?'

Slowly he climbs up. ‘I guess.' He looks worried.

Julie follows him inside. Barbara is standing in the centre of the kitchen, flicking impatiently at her lighter, a cigarette balanced at the corner of her lip. Koki is nowhere to be seen.

‘What happened?' Nadine cries.

Barbara finally succeeds in getting her cigarette lit. ‘Nothing for you kids to worry about.' She tosses the lighter onto the table.

Ryan frowns. ‘Where's Koki?'

‘Gone.'

‘What do you mean, gone?'

‘I've sacked her.'

‘
What?
'

Nadine gasps as if she's drowning, then bursts into noisy tears. ‘You can't sack Koki!'

‘Well, I have.' Barbara flicks a glance in Julie's direction, annoyed to have a witness to this private family drama.

‘But what
for
?'

‘Stealing,' says Barbara crisply. ‘My gold necklace is missing from my jewellery box.'

Julie and Nadine's eyes meet in horror. ‘Mum, I
. . .
I gave
. . .
' Nadine stammers.

‘I think I've got it,' says Julie at the same instant.

Barbara's gaze narrows. ‘Pardon?'

‘Nadine lent it to me for the party
. . .
'

‘I said Julie could borrow it
. . .
'

The girls speak over each other.

‘It's at home,' says Julie. ‘I meant to bring it back today, but — I forgot.'

Ryan whistles softly. ‘Jeez, Mum, you've really stuffed up this time.'

Barbara's face is as grey as putty beneath her make-up, but her voice is steady. ‘It wasn't just the necklace. I've been turning a blind eye for a long time, but enough is enough. The necklace was the last straw.'

‘But she didn't
take
the necklace!' cries Nadine in agony. ‘That was
me
!'

‘I should have brought it back,' says Julie. ‘I'll go and get it now —'

‘There's no need to be dramatic, Julie. This is Nadine's fault; she should have asked permission.'

Ryan moves toward the door. ‘I'll get Koki back. She can't have got far.'

‘You will not!' Barbara raps out, her voice so sharp that Julie jumps backward. Nadine stares, gulping.

‘But, Mum —' Ryan begins.

‘We can't possibly take her back,' says Barbara. ‘We'd lose all respect. We'd look ridiculous.'

‘But we love Koki!' wails Nadine.

‘Don't be silly!' snaps Barbara. ‘You don't
love
Koki. She's a meri, for God's sake. And we won't need a meri for much longer, if we do
go finis
.'

Ryan and Nadine say nothing. Julie wonders wildly, fleetingly, if Lina could be their new meri? But no, that wouldn't be fair to Koki
. . .
And anyway, Julie doesn't know how to find her.

Barbara stubs out her cigarette with a twist of her wrist. ‘I'm going to lie down. I've got a splitting headache.'

After she's gone, there is silence in the kitchen.