Authors: Cate Kendall
The spacious change room in the rear of D'Accord was as
well appointed as Oprah's walk-in wardrobe. The wall of
mirrors reflected the silk-upholstered wingback armchairs
and the cedar coffee table offered a refreshment of chilled
herbal tea and dried fig morsels.
The evening gown Bella was trying on was proving to
be quite problematic. She didn't know how she'd ended
up in the midst of a flurry of chiffon, considering she'd
popped in to buy a simple shift dress. It was the power of
the Rodeo Drive sales staff. These women were pedicured
killer bees, furiously attacking any potential customer as
soon as they walked in the store. They could sniff out a
person's financial worth with a subtle inspection of bag,
sunglasses and shoes. And the drones immediately presented
anyone wearing this season's Valentino, as Bella
stupidly was, to the Queen Bee – the Store Manager, or in
LA terms, the Vice President of Procurement Motivation.
This incredibly persuasive woman had Bella ensconced in
the carpeted cavernous space before she could say 'liposuction'.
The bodice of the empire waistline dress seemed to
stop at her underarms and the seam cut right across the
middle of her breasts. The dress's shoestring straps indicated
that it was definitely a no-bra frock but the flimsy cups of
the gown offered no support at all. As Bella was carefully
picking up her right boob for the third time to convince
it to stay in the top of the dress, the Queen Bee stuck her
head through the heavy taffeta curtains.
'Need any help?' she smiled brightly.
'Umm, well, the dress seems to be an odd shape,' Bella
said. 'The bodice is too high for my bust.'
'Oh, let me see. I just saw it on a girl with a much bigger
bust than you and it fitted perfectly. It might need adjusting.'
In a modesty-free manner usually reserved for one's
mammogram technician, the woman grabbed Bella's breast
and shoved it in place. It dropped down heavily a full ten
centimetres again.
'Oh, my dear, it's not the dress that's an odd shape. It's
your breasts. Who on earth did them?' The saleswoman
looked sympathetically at Bella in the mirror.
'Did them? No one
did
them, they're originals.' Never
having breast-fed, Bella considered her B-cups reasonably
pert considering forty years of gravity.
'Really? Oh, dear. Original breasts.' The woman made a
show of pursing her lips. 'I'm so sorry, madam, but I don't
think we have anything in this store that will fit you.'
Bella looked at her in amazement. 'Nothing? Nothing
at all in your entire shop will fit a woman without breast
augmentation?'
'Well, we cater for the majority, you see. I might be able
to help you with one line in pants, though.'
'Pants? Is that all?' Bella started tearing the dress off and
pulling on her street clothes.
'Yes, unless . . . have you had buttock implants?'
'No!' Bella said.
'Hmmm, well we do have one style that we reserve for
our
au naturel
customers.'
'Don't worry about it,' Bella said. 'Thank you
anyway.'
The woman retreated, allowing Bella privacy to finish
getting dressed. Bella zipped up her boots and sat back in
the armchair. She took a sip of the tea. She could guarantee
it was fat, caffeine, lactose and sugar free.
How did she end up living in such a bizarre and crazy
world? A place where she actually walked voluntarily into
shops that catered only to plastic people. A world where
she indulged the spoilt and pampered as they winged their
way to places of further pampering and spoiling.
She hadn't planned on this strange life of floating in a
global bubble. She remembered back to when she started
flying. How she thought she was helping her marriage,
being productive, earning an independent income.
Now she was so thoroughly entrenched in independence
she had cut herself off from everyone. She didn't even
have a houseplant that depended on her.
And then had come the thrill of her Sera joining her at
the airline. She got to show her the ropes. Naively, she told
Sera at the time that it was all about world travel, expanding
her horizons, learning about other cultures. Turned out
it was just about shoe shops and hotel amenities. Where did
that all go wrong?
It had been a great day when Sera had arrived in
Sydney. Of course she'd brought all her usual drama with
her and unpacked that before her toiletries bag, but that's
what Bella was there for.
'What do you mean you didn't tell them?' Bella remembered
standing in the kitchen of her and Curtis's small
apartment with her hands on her hips. Seventeen-year-old
Sera had been there for three days.
'Dunno, just didn't. They won't notice.' Sera had been
sprawled on the couch watching music videos.
'Sera, you're their daughter; they'll be worried sick
about you. And sit up straight when I'm talking to you.'
Bella walked over and pushed the off button on the remote
control. 'If you're going to cavort off to another city two
states away, you have to start taking responsibility for your
actions. Get on the phone and ring Mum now.'
'Do I have to?' Sera whined.
'Yes! They'll have the police scouring Hobart for you.'
Sera picked up the phone and rang her parents' number.
She let it ring twice then tossed the phone down. 'No
answer.'
'Give it here,' Bella said crossly and pressed re-dial.
'Hi, Mum,' she said. 'It's me. Sera's here with me . . .
oh, did you? How did you know . . . oh, right. Yes, I see
. . . yes, that makes sense. No problem. Speak to you
later.'
'See, she wasn't worried, was she?' Sera said. 'So they
don't care.'
'Well, no, she wasn't worried, She overheard you on
the phone booking the flight so she thought you'd be here.
She said that you must have had your reasons for not saying
good-bye. They do care, Sera, they're just different, you
know. It doesn't mean they don't love you. You must have
really hurt them taking off like that.'
'They'll get over it. What's for dinner?'
It hadn't taken long for the two girls to break open a
bottle of sauvignon blanc and sit down to a meal that went
long into the night. They'd laughed and talked, made plans
and reminisced. As Bella cleaned the kitchen at one o'clock
in the morning, she looked at her baby sister asleep on the
couch and was so happy that she'd come. Her little Sera
was finally back under Bella's wing where she belonged.
*
Bella sipped the last of the tea and stood, swinging her bag
over her shoulder. She shouldn't have been so overprotective
with Sera. She should have encouraged her to stand
on her own two feet more often. But she hadn't, she'd let
the guilt take over and had babied her from day dot. When
they'd caught up several weeks ago at the Four in Hand,
Sera had been wonderful, but her kid sister was reverting to
her old ways and a tangible, growing resentment between
them was the result. They really needed to have a talk.
As Bella left D'Accord that sunny afternoon she made a
promise never to go back.
'Sally, you're pulling my arm out of its socket!' Chantrea
scolded gently. 'I'm coming, I'm coming.'
'But, Mummy, it's my favourite shop in the world.
Hurry up.'
The family's outing to Bookley Books in Newtown
was Chantrea's way of offering an olive branch to her
mother without actually admitting defeat. Dara Kim was
just relieved that life was calm in her family again.
As usual King Street was abuzz with energy and eclectic
locals. Bohemians philosophised over soy lattes, uni students
in Doc Martens combed vintage shops for treasures
and young families in tie-dye and dreadlocks shopped
for organic groceries. Blonde daytrippers from the North
Shore toted stacks of shopping bags and exclaimed, loudly
and in well-rounded vowels, how 'unique' and 'interesting'
Newtown was.
Chantrea asked Sally and her mum to wait as she
checked on the price of a Dior handbag in the window
display of Play It Again, Sam. As they waited, a small
girl and her grandmother stopped nearby to cross the
road.
'Hello, what's your name?' Sally asked the little girl.
'Patsy,' the little girl answered shyly.
'
Ter ke/neang yeay tha me
?' The girl's grandmother asked
Patsy in Khmer what Sally had said.
'
Ke/neang yeay tha sour sdey heay sor chhmous nhom
,' Patsy
interpreted for her and turned back to explain to Sally. 'My
grandmother is on a holiday from Cambodia. She can't talk
English.'
Sally beamed at her new friend, 'This is
my
grandmother
and she is from Cambodia too.'
The two elderly women smiled at each other and began
to chat in Khmer.
'Mum,' Chantrea called from the shop door, 'they only
take cash. Do you have thirty dollars on you? I'll have to
go to the bank.'
Dara Kim turned to pass Chantrea the money as their
new friends went back to crossing the road. Patsy waved
goodbye just as a bus slowed to pull in at the stop, but to
Sally's horror Patsy's grandmother moved to step off the
gutter into the path of the vehicle.
'
Te chhoub ian kroung
!' Sally shouted shrilly, and the
woman pulled her foot back sharply as the bus hissed to a
stop, just centimetres in front of her ashen face.
Chantrea and Dara Kim had watched in shock, frozen
in the doorway of the shop. Patsy's grandmother was pale
and shaking as she bent to thank Sally in a volley of Khmer.
Sally responded, understanding every word the woman
said.
Dara Kim and Chantrea rushed to embrace Sally as Patsy
and her grandmother assured them they were fine and
made their way towards the pedestrian crossing.
Sally looked worriedly at her mum. 'Sorry, Mummy, I
know you don't like Cambodian talking, so I don't do it
when you're around.'
Chantrea was too shocked to speak. Her child was not
only bilingual, but also quick-thinking enough to prevent
a tragedy. She looked down at Sally, and something shifted
within her. Suddenly she understood everything her
mother had tried to tell her about their history – and their
future.
'Darling, I am so proud of you. And you know what?
I think I'd like you to help me learn Khmer too.'
'Damn!' Bella cursed her own clumsiness as 1A's chutney
flipped onto the floor.
'Oh my, the perfect Bella makes a mistake,' Asif teased
as he walked into the galley. 'What could this mean?' He
raised an immaculately arched eyebrow and bumped hips
with her on his way past.
'Oh, shut up, Asif.' Bella's comment bounced right off
his broad shoulders and he grinned.
She peeked in the tiny oven to check on the chipolatas.
Two more minutes. She stood staring at the storage boxes
stacked around the galley.
Cups
, the label read.
Cups
. She
read it again.
Cups
. Fucking Curtis!
Cups
. Nice simple
soothing cups. She knew the cups were neat, tidy and
organised inside the boxes.
Cups
. FUCK HIM!
Although it had been ages since he'd called to announce
his engagement, she'd only mailed the signed divorce papers
before this morning's LA flight. And she was fine. She was
sooo over him. Good luck to him and his new wife. She
didn't care. She'd let it all go.
Cups
. Neat, tidy cups.
She opened the crate. Yep, there they were, all organised.
Nothing out of place. Just like her: together, organised
and calm.
The sizzling chipolatas reclaimed her attention and she
plated them artistically, wiping away a minuscule speck on
the china and creating a tiny smear, which she wiped again,
more vigorously. It seemed to have disappeared, but she
wiped again, just to be sure.
Poor Sera, she was a great mum. And so busy. She tried
to keep up with her job, keep her mother-in-law happy,
and now the renovation would mean more stress. She
should give her a call. She wiped the corner of the plate
again, peering at the pristine china for any hint of a streak.
Maybe she could organise a few days' leave, and whisk
Sera and the kids off to for a mini-break at some lovely
five-star place in Sydney. A flush of excitement gripped
her. She could take the kids to see some city sights, book
Sera in for a massage and some pampering; maybe she'd
even organise a week of dinners to be delivered while the
kitchen was out of order and then she –. Bella abruptly
stopped herself. Damn, she thought, I'm doing it again.
'There's nothing there, my OCD one,' said Asif, bringing
Bella out of her reverie with a jolt. 'Just serve the
bloody thing, will you?'
'Oh, right, yes, of course,' Bella murmured and hung
the tea towel, neatly folded, onto the rail, then quickly
whipped it away and tossed it into the laundry box. 'Oh
dear, where's my head? That tea towel has food on it: I
could have single-handedly caused a cross-contamination
incident.'
'Oh, Bella,' Asif sighed, now more worried than teasing.
'You've got to let this stuff go a little bit, my darling.'
Bella ignored him and finally got the chipolatas to her
passenger. As she passed the young girl in seat 2A, she
stopped to see how she was.
'Are you having a nice flight, Ruby?' she asked.
'Yes, thanks. I'm doing a scrapbook of my ballet
concert,' the nine-year-old replied. 'See?'
Bella stepped into Ruby's generous first-class space and
sat down on the little seat opposite. 'You're a ballerina,
how lovely!' she said and smiled at the photos of Ruby in
assorted costumes.
'Yes, here I am in the mermaid costume, and there's me
in the
Nutcracker
, and look at this one, this is my favourite:
I'm a princess.'
'They're lovely,' Bella said, smiling at the photos. 'Wow,
you're all so suntanned, was the concert in summer?'
'No, that's the fake tan they make you put on.'
'Surely not,' Bella said in amazement.
'Yes, my mum wasn't at all happy.' Bella followed
Ruby's gaze to where her mother dozed in the seat across
the aisle. Ruby dropped her voice: 'I was too embarrassed
in the beauty salon to take off my bathers so I had strap
marks on my shoulders. I got in so much trouble with
Miss Petrice, the ballet teacher.'
'I hope it didn't spoil the concert for you,' Bella said.
'No, it's all right. I've stopped now. I'm doing gymnastics
instead, which is way more fun. I liked ballet but I
didn't like the exams and stuff.'
'Well, I bet you'll make an even better gymnast,' Bella
said, returning the scrapbook and standing to leave.
'Thanks,' Ruby said, picking up her glue stick.
Bella smiled at Ruby's bowed head. She rarely found
herself bonding with children on flights. She'd cluck over
the babies with the rest of the crew, and make sure any
young charges were comfortable and happy, but something
about this girl really struck her and she had found herself
enjoying her company on the long flight.
She had always thought mothering was all about washing
and cooking and had never considered the possibility of
actually enjoying a child's company. The thought nagged at
her mind the next day as she wandered the chic boutiques
of Rodeo Drive. Was it just that there was something
special about Ruby or was something changing inside her?
For the first time, something inside Bella relaxed and she
breathed life into a hope, a desire for a future she'd thought
she could never have, and in that moment she knew exactly
what she wanted in her life.