The Ellie Chronicles (13 page)

The magistrate looked back at me. ‘Ellie?’

‘I hardly even know Mr Sayle,’ I said. I was feeling majorly pissed off. ‘I know Mr and Mrs Yannos really well. They’ve been my neighbours all my life. They’ve been so good to me, not just since my parents were killed, but for as long as I can remember. I trust them totally. I just think they’ll be able to help me in a heap of different ways.’

Mr Sayle wasn’t flustered. He turned back to the magistrate and launched into another of his long speeches. ‘The fact is that Mr and Mrs Yannos are Ellie’s neighbours, whether they are officially appointed her guardians or not.’ He gave them a warm smile. ‘I’m sure we can assume they’ll continue to be her friends as well, and that they’ll support her in many different ways. But at Ellie’s age what she needs is not so much a guardian who will provide emotional support as a guardian who will take care of her legal and financial requirements.’

I started sweating, thinking about the bank loan Mr Yannos had guaranteed, because the bank had assumed he was my guardian. They’d never bothered to check. I’d thought at the time that it was a bit slack.

Fi’s mum stood, in her usual graceful way. She reminded me of a swan slowly unfolding its wings. ‘I suppose, Your Worship, we could say with equal confidence that Mr Sayle will continue to be executor of the estate, whether he is Ellie’s guardian or not. Surely it is in Ellie’s best interests to have as many people as possible on her side, rather than having everything rest on one person. And despite what Mr Sayle says, Ellie still needs someone in her life to give her support in all kinds of abstract ways, including emotional. For Mr and Mrs Yannos to take on this role in an official capacity helps to stabilise the whole situation.’

The magistrate looked down and made a few notes. Then she said, ‘With someone of Ellie’s age it’s important that we take her wishes into account. On the other hand there are obvious advantages in having the executor take on the role of guardian. I can see the force of Mr Sayle’s argument that Ellie’s friends, like Mr and Mrs Yannos, will always be there for her. And really, we’re only talking about a relatively short period of time, before she comes of age, in the legal sense.’ She paused. I was doing some serious sweating now. I felt sorry for the next person who sat in this chair. She was going to get a wet bum.

‘Excuse me?’ I said.

‘Yes, Ellie?’

‘I had to get a loan from the bank to keep the farm going, and Mr Yannos personally guaranteed the loan. Will Mr Sayle be able to take over that guarantee and guarantee any future loans the property needs?’

‘Well that’s just it,’ Mr Sayle said, standing up again. ‘That’s exactly the kind of problem I’m having. That loan was particularly ill-advised and in my view was not in the best interests of the estate. Ellie and Mr Yannos charged off to the bank and arranged it without reference to me. If I were Ellie’s guardian this kind of thing simply wouldn’t be allowed to happen.’

The magistrate glanced at her watch. ‘Ellie, unless you have some very strong objection to Mr Sayle taking on this role in your life I propose to make an order appointing him as your guardian.’

‘Oh I do,’ I said. Tears started stinging my eyes. ‘I don’t mean this the wrong way but I really don’t want him to do it.’

Fi’s mother stood up again, quickly. ‘This application by Mr Sayle has been totally unexpected, Your Worship. Perhaps Ellie could have some more time to consider her position.’

The magistrate made another note while I waited. I hated the idea that a stranger could make a decision like this in ten minutes, and change my life.

She closed the folder and pushed it away.

‘This is obviously more complicated than I first realised. I propose to adjourn the matter for two weeks and have another hearing on Thursday the third. I appreciate the need to have things clarified, but it’s also important that we arrive at the best possible outcome. That is all. Clerk, call the next case, please.’

‘LEE!’ GAVIN YELLED. He was off his stool and across the kitchen and into Lee’s arms before I had time to put down the spatula and turn around from the stir-fry. Gavin always seemed to beat me to the hugs these days.

‘Good timing,’ I said. ‘I’m doing Thai.’

‘Yeah I know. I smelt it from the city.’

I met him halfway across the kitchen and we had our hug. He’d put on another inch or two, and he’d been tall before that. I felt off-balance. His intensity filled the room already. When I thought of Lee it was always images of the brilliant piano player, and the effective killer of enemy soldiers that came to mind. The pianist and the killer existed in him side by side.

I had no memory of his being at the funeral so as far as I was concerned I hadn’t seen him for ages. Except in my dreams. And I wasn’t sure if that counted.

‘Better get back to the stir-fry,’ I said. I needed an excuse and that lame effort was the best I could do. ‘Have you eaten?’

‘Only if you count a ham and tomato sandwich on the bus. Cost me seven bucks and tasted like a Chux. A very old Chux. The stir-fry is looking pretty good right now.’

I think he was nervous too.

‘I’ll do more noodles.’

I put some of the stir-fry aside for Gavin then chucked about a kilo of chillies in what was left. I knew how Lee liked his food, and I don’t mind the odd sinus clean-out myself.

‘So, where are your brothers and sisters?’ I asked. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve brought them with you?’

‘No, called in a few favours. A lot of favours actually. They’re all at sleepovers for the weekend. Sorry I didn’t ring but I couldn’t confirm it till this morning, and then when I did ring I didn’t get an answer. Guess you were at school.’ He slumped down on a chair. Not the broken one.

‘You guessed right.’

‘Geez, Ellie, how are you doing all this? Running the farm, looking after Gavin, going to school? I know you’re Superwoman but even she got knocked out by kryptonite. Or did she? Come to think of it I don’t know much about Superwoman.’

‘Neither do I,’ I said, serving up the stir-fry. ‘Gavin get over here and stuff this down your gob.’

‘How’s he been?’ Lee said as Gavin slid into the seat beside him.

‘Well, obviously better for you being here. Normally I have to tell him six times to come to the table.’

‘Are you having fun with him?’

‘Fun?’ I looked at him in shock, the spatula in mid-air. ‘What’s fun?’

He laughed. ‘Yeah, took me a while to figure that out too. But I finally got it with my brothers and sisters. I woke up one morning and thought “I’m not their father and I’m not their mother. I’m their brother and what’s more, I’m a teenager. Why am I trying to be a parent?” ’ He grinned at me. ‘I mean, of course we are like their parents. But we’re kids ourselves. We’ve got to do both, be their parents for some stuff but at the same time, muck around with them. It makes it harder in some ways, but it’s the way to go.’

I was eating slowly, listening to this. I realised almost at once how right he was. It had been the same in the later stages of the war. I’d lost my sense of humour, become tough and intolerant. I remember Fi telling me exactly that, one day up near Tailor’s Stitch. Now here was another friend, pointing me in the same direction. I could see how I owed it to Gavin to fill about fifty different roles in his life. And those roles included being a teenage big sister who had fun with him once in a while.

Lee was gasping for breath. ‘Wow, this is some stir-fry. Have you just brought in the chilli harvest? Look, I know this isn’t a very good time to be talking about fun, with your parents being killed and all, but in the long run . . .’

Yes, he was right. But at the same time I started to feel incredibly depressed. I pushed the rest of my meal away.

He watched for a minute before saying anything. Gavin kept eating but he was watching me too, between mouthfuls. I put my hand over my face, with my elbow on the table.

‘What’s wrong?’ Lee asked after a while. ‘Too much chilli?’

‘Nothing much. Just missing Mum and Dad. Oh, and wanting to be perfect. I think that’s all.’

‘Oh, that’s all? I don’t see the problem then.’

‘Very funny.’

‘You know the way life works?’ he said. ‘You’re on this moving footway. It starts with everyone telling you that you’ve got to get to the end. There’s a big pot of gold waiting, but if you don’t get there you’re a failure. So you try and try but you don’t make it. So you feel bad. So you try even harder. You still don’t make it. You feel worse. Some people try even harder after that. Some people give up and let themselves slide back to the start. So it goes on. That’s it. That’s life.

‘Oh, and by the way, you’re one of the ones who keeps trying harder.’

He leaned back. ‘And you know the big joke?’ He fixed his dark eyes on me. ‘There’s no pot of gold. Never was, never will be. It’s just an illusion. They show you photos of film stars going to the Oscars and billionaires on their yachts to make you think that they’ve found the pot of gold, but if you talked to them they might tell you the truth. Or they might still be running along the moving footway themselves.’

‘And then there’s death.’

‘Yes, sorry, left that bit out. You’re right, that’s the end of the walkway.’

I got up and filled a jug with water. I brought it back to the table and poured glasses for the three of us. He drank most of a glass without stopping. ‘I’d forgotten how good rainwater tastes,’ he said. ‘The city stuff is terrible. It’s got so much chlorine. Smells like a swimming pool.’

‘Yeah, well this has got wrigglers. Always has.’

‘Wrigglers I can live with.’

‘I guess I worry that if I let myself off the hook, if I don’t keep trying to be perfect, I’ll get too slack,’ I said. ‘I use that to motivate me.’

‘Ellie, trust me, you’re never going to get slack. Anyway, you can aim high and get a glimpse of the end of the footway once in a while and be satisfied with that. Instead of trying to be perfect.’

I didn’t say anything. I looked at the plates on the table and wondered if I had the energy to load the dishwasher. Then Lee got up and started clearing away. I’ve got to admit, that made me feel good. Gavin wasn’t too strong on household chores.

‘What have you got planned for tomorrow?’ Lee asked.

‘Saturday? Pick up sticks in Parklands so I can put the slasher into the baby broom. Prepare One Tree for a crop of lucerne. Clear more rocks in Nellie’s. Check the cattle, of course. We’ve got thirty-six baby calves. That’s not so bad, considering none of the cows exactly looked like they were lining up for Mother of the Year competitions.’

‘Good on you.’

‘Then there’s the usual jobs. Cleaning. Laundry. Shopping. Cooking. I try to make a lot of stuff over the weekend and freeze it for during the week.’

‘So how much of the stuff you’ve got lined up is urgent?’

‘Oh well,’ I said reluctantly. ‘Checking the cattle. Doing the laundry. The shopping.’

‘If I give you a hand with those, why don’t you take the rest of the weekend off? Have a holiday?’

‘Yeah!’ Gavin cheered. ‘A holiday!’

‘This sounds like a conspiracy.’

Gavin made a face at me. ‘What’s that?’

I sighed, grabbed his notepad, which for the first time in about a month he had with him, wrote the word down for him, then struggled to explain what it meant. But I was too tired. Finally I said, ‘Ask Uncle Lee.’

Gavin wouldn’t go to bed and I didn’t care much, seeing it was Friday night. So we watched TV and talked till quite late. To tell the truth I was getting nervous about where Lee planned to sleep. It had been so long since I’d seen him, and even longer since we’d had sex, and I had no idea where we’d parked our relationship. Although I’d been thinking about him so much recently, and with a lot of longing, I didn’t want to jump straight back into bed with him. I was still too upset about my parents to have sex with my boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend, in their home, such a short time after they’d died.

I didn’t really want to have sex with anyone anywhere. Maybe not for the rest of my life. I think that was one of the effects of the murders on me. I hadn’t felt that way before.

At about eleven o’clock I got up and said, ‘Well, better make you up a bed.’

Lee didn’t move a muscle, just kept that poker face. ‘I’ll do it,’ he said, getting up.

I put him in the spare room, said a quick safe good-night, then headed back out through the TV room, where Gavin was gazing at re-runs of ‘Touched by an Angel’. He looked up at me. ‘Isn’t Lee going to sleep in your bed?’ he asked, with a cheeky grin.

‘What? What did you say?’

I grabbed a cushion and attacked him, pounding him without mercy. Somehow he got out from under that and before I could turn round he jumped on my back and grabbed another cushion and laid into me. I raced around the room trying to throw him off. Eventually I went into a death roll on the old sofa and loosened his grip until I could break free. By then we were both panting and sneezing with the dust. Made me think I hadn’t been doing enough house cleaning. But we were both armed with cushions and we closed in on each other, in a no-holds-barred fight-to-the-death world-championship-wrestling duel. God that little tyke was a fighter. I backed him into a corner but only by using my bigger size and strength. And even when he was stuck firmly in the corner he never let up. After a while I let him fight his way out again, and just then I got ambushed by Lee from behind, so from then on I didn’t have a hope.

Later, in bed, I thought about how much fun it had been and realised that Lee was right. I couldn’t be a parent to Gavin the whole time. I had to remember to be a kid sometimes too, for both our sakes.

Next day I chucked a load of laundry in the machine, while Gavin and Lee checked the cattle. Then we went into Wirrawee and did the shopping. For a start I had to stock up on chillies. And bloody expensive they were too. I didn’t get any refrigerated or frozen stuff, because this was meant to be our holiday so I didn’t want to go back home just to put groceries in the fridge.

Then we went to Juicy’s, the new coffee shop in Barker Street, where Gavin ordered this revolting bowl of chocolate ice-cream, lime flavouring, nuts, wafers, banana, malt and cream. All it needed was tomato sauce. I sat looking at it as I drank my cafe latte, thinking, ‘You know you’ve grown up when you realise that whatever looks good isn’t necessarily good.’ Then I said to the waitress, ‘I’ll have what he’s having.’

We wandered down to Jubilee Park to have a look at the market. Markets are kind of cool. I bought a candle for Lee and a balaclava for Gavin. Lee bought me a pair of uggies. I talked for quite a while to the girl who sold me the balaclava. She was into Taoism, which is a faith I’d never heard of, but it’s all about how everything has its own nature and the more you try to interfere with stuff the more you mess it up. That’s more or less what I thought she said, anyway. The bush and the ocean and everything from elephants to buttercups have their own inner rightness, but humans keep wanting to improve them, or change them into something that will be useful for the humans, but this isn’t actually a great idea. And she talked about wu wei, the Chinese name for the idea that you let things follow their natural laws.

She said something which struck home with me. She said, ‘It’s only humans who believe in mistakes. Nature doesn’t have any understanding of mistakes. If a branch falls from a tree, it doesn’t mean the tree’s made a mistake. Nature just reorganises itself around the fallen branch. So now it becomes a home for the insects that live on the ground. Its leaves rot down and make the soil richer. If the branch falls into a creek, fine, the water now flows in a different way.’

‘Yeah, I guess that’s true,’ I said.

‘So, life goes on. Things happen. If you let things happen, they do.’

‘So,’ I said, feeling myself go a bit red, ‘if people you love die, or get killed, what does Taoism say about that? How are you meant to cope with that?’

I waited on her answer as though it would be very important.

‘You do nothing,’ she said. She shrugged. ‘This has happened. It doesn’t matter in the long run how they died. They’ve died, so your life reorganises itself. It will affect you in different ways. So, let it affect you. Feel what you feel, do what seems right to you. Don’t imagine there is a right way to act or a wrong way. Just let your life continue according to its own inner nature.’

‘OK,’ I said.

I turned away to leave.

‘Hey,’ she said, ‘good luck.’

‘Bit of an angel encounter, that one,’ I thought.

We went to a four o’clock movie, not a very Taoist one I’d say. But Gavin chose it. It amazed me that after all he’d seen in the war, all he’d experienced, he still liked violent movies, but they were always his first choice. He was still quite violent by nature, as he’d proved with the cushions last night – not that I could talk – but I don’t think his violent behaviour came from the violent movies. The movies must have seemed a bit tame sometimes, compared to what he’d gone through.

It wasn’t a bad film. The special effects were cool, and it had Jed Barrett, who I can look at for quite a long time without getting a headache.

It had been a good afternoon and it had been fun. We went to Macca’s – sign of the times, Wirrawee had grown so much since the war that it now had a Macca’s – then headed home.