The Good Daughter (23 page)

‘It has to be his real name,' Mum said. ‘They wouldn't let him into the country without proper papers.'

‘Anyone can pass himself off as a refugee.' Safet's voice was angry now.

I tensed, waiting to see if their argument would escalate.

‘This is the first time Sabiha has liked a Bosnian boy.'

‘Then put her into an Islamic school. She'll meet only Muslim boys.' Safet's voice calmed again.

‘She'd never go…' Mum sounded despondent.

I smiled. At least she knew which fights she could win. Next thing, the front door slammed and Mum yelled out: ‘Don't go!' The car revved and Mum moaned.

This day was getting better and better. First I met a cute guy and now there was trouble between Mum and Safet.

I was waiting for Brian at the front of the school, so we could organise our Edo-stalking at Highpoint on Saturday. Mum was in on the plan and she was letting me get out of
mejtef
. Her willingness to do anything that manoeuvred me with a Bosnian was scary.

When Brian arrived he spread the newspaper on the picnic table and we bent to study the movie sessions.

‘Definitely
Juno
. I've heard it's great.'

‘Did you forget we're staking out Edo?' Brian insisted.

‘So?'

‘No guy would see
Juno
unless he was on a date. He'll either be watching
American Gangster
or the
Bourne
movie
.
' He circled the session times.

‘The
Bourne
one wouldn't be bad. Matt Damon's hot.'

‘Earth to Sabiha.' He pretended to knock on my head. ‘Now we have to guess what session he'll see.'

Jesse stood in my line of vision. ‘Are you going to the movies?' He dropped his library bag on the ground.

I straightened and signalled Brian to keep quiet. ‘We don't know yet,' I said. I was so focused on my plan to make Brian jealous, I'd almost forgotten about Jesse's near kiss.

Brian shifted without looking at me. ‘We're staking out Sabiha's new crush.'

As he spoke it was like I was watching a train collision, helpless to prevent it. Jesse blinked rapidly.

‘You want to come?' Brian was still scanning the newspaper. ‘We're seeing
The Bourne Supremacy
. You can help provide a cover for us.'

‘No,' Jesse said. ‘I've seen it. ‘ He turned and walked away, his shoulders hunched.

‘You shouldn't have told him.' I slapped Brian's shoulder.

‘Told him what?'

‘That we were going to the movies.'

‘Why?' Brian asked.

I stared at my feet in confusion.

‘What's the problem?'

I bit my lip and said nothing. Jesse and I had had that conversation about being friends so I didn't owe him anything. Right? If that was true, why did I feel so guilty about the possibility of hurting him?

‘Best stake-out time is the afternoon session.' Brian tapped the pen on his lip.

At lunchtime we went to the oval. Jesse sat on the other side of the group, reading his book. I sat in the middle: Adnan and Brian on one side, Gemma and Dina on the other, and I switched between the two conversations.

‘Did you see the match highlights on SBS?' Adnan asked.

‘I watched the whole thing,' Brian said.

‘Wicked.' Adnan slapped Brian's knee.

‘I've got it on tape. Come after school and watch it.'

‘Great!' Adnan punched him on the arm.

‘I thought we were going to the library?' I said.

‘We'll go tomorrow,' Brian replied.

‘He gave me a necklace.' Gemma held the chain away from her throat for Dina to inspect. ‘It's eighteen-carat gold.'

‘It's pretty,' Dina said unconvincingly.

I leaned closer and saw that the gold paint had gone from one of the links, revealing the metal underneath. I grinned at Dina. She tried not to laugh.

‘We're moving in together soon,' Gemma said. ‘He's saving money for the bond and rent.'

I caught Jesse looking at me. He returned to his novel, hunching down so he wasn't visible behind Adnan. I shrank back too.

The next day Jesse, Brian and I set off for the library. We were walking to the station when a car slowed to a crawl and followed us. The window rolled down and Adnan's face appeared. He pushed his sunglasses down his nose. ‘Want a lift?'

‘Sweet ride,' Brian shouted at Adnan's car from ‘The Price is Right'.

Adnan nodded smugly.

Brian jumped into the passenger seat and caressed the dashboard. ‘This is sick, mate.'

Jesse opened the back door for me. ‘Thanks,' I muttered as I slid across the backseat.

After Jesse got in, Adnan took off. ‘Where to?'

‘Sunshine library,' Brian said.

Adnan turned into St Albans Road. ‘You'll have to give me directions.'

While Adnan and Brian talked in the front, Jesse and I stared out our separate windows as if our lives depended on it. Adnan's sharp turns made us jostle on the backseat like bottles in a crate.

‘Here we go.' Adnan screeched to a halt. ‘It's a shame you're busy, Brian,' he said, as we got out of the car. ‘I'm hooking up with my Bosnian mates for a soccer game at Foot-scray footy ground. We could use your ball skills.'

Brian pulled his leg back inside the car and closed the door. ‘You don't mind do you?' he yelled through the open window.

Jesse and I stood on the footpath and watched as Adnan drove off, Brian's arm waving out the side. Too scared to look at Jesse, I stared down the street.

‘I don't think he's coming back,' Jesse said.

‘I can't believe he did that,' I whispered.

‘That's Brian for you,' Jesse said wryly. ‘Always on the lookout for something better.'

I followed Jesse into the library, dragging my feet. I was going to kill Brian. After we'd borrowed our books, Jesse and I walked to the station. ‘What did you get?' I asked him, desperate to fill the silence.

‘The usual.' Jesse hitched his backpack higher on his shoulder. ‘What's the name of your new crush?'

His expression was neutral. Okay, he was just being an interested friend. ‘His name is Edo.'

‘I hope it works out on Saturday,' Jesse said.

During the train ride he went on about homework. I held up my end of the conversation with monosyllabic responses, but I was out of sorts. I must have been wrong about him liking me. I was so stupid. I'd avoided him when there was no reason for it. I was seriously deluded, imagining both Brian and Jesse liking me more than as a friend. What was wrong with me?

When the train pulled up at St Albans I mumbled a quick goodbye and leaped out as soon as the doors opened. I was almost at the gates when someone called my name. I turned and saw Edo standing at the ticket office window. He was wearing jeans and a white shirt under his black leather jacket, his hair slicked into a ponytail.

‘Where are you off to?' I asked.

‘City.' He nodded east. ‘We're going to a club on King Street.' The notorious street where anyone with a fake ID could get into a club. There were always reports of a stabbing or fight there. ‘What about you?' He nodded at my backpack.

‘Just came back from the library.'

‘They told me at English school that the best way to improve my English was to read,
or
get an Australian girlfriend.' He winked, then looked away.

I turned and saw a bunch of guys approaching. ‘I nearly left without you,' Edo shouted at his mates.

‘What's your hurry?' one of his mates shouted back.

‘The girls will wait,' another added.

Edo disappeared into the throng as they hugged and slapped each other's backs. I waited on the sidelines for him to say goodbye, but he walked off with his friends.

I turned and met Jesse's sympathetic blue eyes. My stomach churned. That was twice in one day I'd been an idiot in front of him.

‘You forgot it.' My jacket was folded across his arm.

‘Thanks.' I was swallowing back tears as I took the jacket from him.

‘You okay?' Jesse asked.

I clenched my teeth to stop from crying. ‘Sure.' He handed me a tissue. I forced myself to meet his eyes. ‘Thank you.'

‘I'll see you at school.' He walked off.

When I got home Mum was checking the mailbox at the fence. ‘What's wrong?' she said as she ripped open an envelope. The word OVERDUE was stamped in red on the sheet of paper inside.

‘I bumped into Edo at the train station,' I told her.

She crumpled the envelope.

‘He snubbed me.'

Mum walked me to the house. ‘I'm sure he didn't mean it. English isn't his first language after all.'

I took off my shoes. ‘He knew exactly what he was doing.'

‘You should give him a second chance.'

‘No,' I snapped.

‘There aren't many nice young Bosnian boys,' Mum urged.

‘Don't you get it?' I shouted. ‘He's an arsehole and I don't want anything to do with him.' I slammed my bedroom door.

The next day I waited until Maths in fourth period to talk to Brian alone. ‘Thank you so much,' I hissed when I sat next to him. I'd been stewing all night. ‘You ditched me.'

‘What's the big deal?' he asked. ‘You were with Jesse.' He opened his books. ‘Anyway the two of you are the bookworms. I just go along for the ride.'

‘You left me alone with Jesse,' I wailed.

‘Is this about him liking you?'

‘He likes me?' I squeaked.

‘Of course,' Brian said. ‘Everyone knows.'

Jesse liked me. He really liked me. I broke into a smile.

Brian peered at my face. ‘Do you like him?' he asked.

I forced my face into a serious expression. ‘No.' I shook my head until I was dizzy. ‘I don't.' What was I doing? Was I just happy to be flattered?

‘Then it's no big deal,' he said.

Friday night I was watching ‘Home and Away' when Mum walked in front of the TV to peer out the window. ‘Can you move?' I asked. She'd been fluttering around for the past hour.

‘Sorry.' She sat on the sofa. Two seconds later she was up again, twitching the curtain as she checked the driveway. ‘He should be here by now.' She glanced at the clock and back out the window.

‘Call him,' I retorted.

‘I don't want to be pushy.' She sat down again.

‘If you don't, I will.'

‘You wouldn't dare.'

‘Try me.'

She took the phone into the hall. ‘He's not coming,' she said when she returned a few minutes later.

‘Good riddance,' I muttered.

‘What did you say?' She stood in front of the TV.

‘Move.' I tried to look around her.

She snatched the remote control and switched off the TV. ‘What did you say about Safet?'

‘Good. Riddance.' I pronounced each word slowly.

‘You've chased him off,' she whispered.

‘You're better off without him.' I tried to take the remote, but she wouldn't let go. She threw it against the wall. It hit with a thud, the plastic splitting open. For the first time I noticed the look in her eyes and goose pimples rose on my skin. How could I have missed it?

‘Stop!' Dido yelled from the kitchen where he was watching the second TV.

‘It's always you!' Spittle shot from her mouth and she slapped me on the face.

I froze, my body going into lockdown.

Her hand swung back and hit me again, this time on the side of my head, on my ear. Dido rushed into the living room and grabbed Mum, pulling her away from me.

‘She did it, she did it!' Mum shouted as she tried to break from his hold. ‘She always ruins everything.' Tears and snot dribbled down her face.

‘Sabiha, go to your bedroom!' Dido yelled as he held Mum. ‘Sabiha, Sabiha!'

I couldn't move.

Mum tore out of his arms. He jumped between us and shoved me away.

My legs worked again and I ran from the room. I looked over my shoulder and saw them go down on the sofa in a tangle of arms and legs. When I got to my bedroom I locked my door and leaned against it. I expected her to break it down. My cheeks and left ear ached. I grabbed my pillow and cried into it, not lifting my head until I was faint.

This was my fault. I had suspected she wasn't taking her medication, but I let her convince me otherwise and now it was the time of reckoning. I was ten years old the last time Mum stopped taking her medication. She hooked up with a guy who claimed he was a
hodja
, but he wore regular clothes and only knew one Arabic prayer that he repeated over and over like a chant.

He made holy water by putting tap water in a bottle and dropping in folded pieces of paper that he'd written Arabic prayers on. He cleansed our house by chanting as he walked through every room, splashing water on the furniture.

The fake
hodja
gave Mum the bottle and told her to drink it three times a day and pray after each drink. In return Mum gave him a fifty-dollar note. When I told Frankie about the
hodja
she said he was a quack. Muslims didn't believe in holy water or superstition. It was against God.

A month later Mum got the sickest she'd ever been. It ended when she locked us in a bedroom and the police had to break in and drag her away. From then on I supervised her meds, but I'd become complacent. My own dramas took precedence and I'd assumed Dido would be a stabilising influence.

You'd think by now I'd know the signs when Mum was getting sick, but somehow every time it happened it was a punch to the gut. Some parents are heavy-handed and lay into their kids like it's a world championship event and they're competing for gold. Other parents think that kicking the shit out of their kids to ease their frustration is their right; and then there were parents like Mum.

Mum hated violence. When I was a kid an ex-boyfriend slapped her. She crouched on the floor like a grenade had gone off, while I tried to kick him. I guess her passive nature had made me the aggressor in order to protect us.