“What are you up to today, Mum?” I ask.
“Not much. I thought I’d just potter around the house. Maybe do a grocery shop later.”
I think quickly. “Oh, I just remembered! We’re doing a drama thing at school tomorrow and I need a pair of black leggings. If you get a chance, do you think you could go to the shops this morning to buy them for me?”
She frowns. “This morning?”
“Well, it doesn’t have to be this morning, but I saw on TV that there’s a big sale on at The Palace today, so you’d probably avoid the crowds if you went early.” I cross my fingers behind my back.
She sighs. “I wish you had given me more notice, but okay.”
“Thanks, Mum!”
I feel bad manipulating her, but if I’m going to achieve my objective of finding Ed, I need to avoid a similar situation to last time.
“I want you to walk with Amy to school today,” Mum says. “I’m worried she’s been cutting class.”
I inwardly groan. “I don’t want to be your spy.”
“You’re not spying. I just think she’d be less likely to wander off if you’re with her. And if you want me to buy leggings for you, the least you can do is this one thing for me.”
“Fine,” I sigh. God, I’m starting to revert to my sixteen-year-old self. I wonder if any of my brain chemicals are being corrupted in this body.
“Thank you.”
Amy ambles down the stairs. “Did I hear my name?” she asks sleepily.
“I just said it would be nice for my two girls to walk to school together for a change,” Mum says.
Amy looks at me, panicked. “But Anna isn’t cool, Mum. She’ll ruin my image.”
“Hey, I’m cooler than you,” I retort. And then decide that yes, my brain is definitely corrupted.
“Girls! Do as I ask for once, please.”
“Okay,” we both grumble.
Amy gives me a death stare. Like it’s my fault. And then I think maybe we can both work this situation to our advantage.
As we leave for school, I turn to her.
“All right, so the reason Mum wants us to walk together is because she thinks you’re cutting class.”
Her eyes widen. “She said that?”
“Yes, and I don’t care if it’s true or not, because today I have somewhere else to be. If you promise to keep your mouth shut, I won’t say anything either. I asked Mum to buy me leggings at The Palace this morning, so she won’t be at home if school calls to check up on us.”
Amy looks at me with respect. “I might have underestimated you, sis.”
“So you agree to stay quiet?”
“Sure. Where are you going?”
“To find someone.”
“Who?”
“Just some guy.”
“Ooh—is he your boyfriend?”
“Not quite. But I’m going to go that way.” I point away from the school. “And Mum offered to pick me up this afternoon, so I assume she means to get you as well. Just make sure you’re at the front gate regardless of what you decide to do today.”
She reaches over and gives me a hug. Amy and I never used to hug as teenagers—and I can’t remember the last time we hugged as adults.
“Thanks, Anna. You’re rad. See you later.”
We go our separate ways. I don’t know if Amy plans on actually going to school or not, but that’s her problem. She ends up turning out all right career-wise, so she must learn enough to get by. In the future, she’s an interior designer for a well-known Valley firm, and I’ve seen enough of her stuff online to know she’s quite talented.
I duck into a block of public toilets at a nearby park and change into my casual clothes. Now that I’m free, I have no idea where to start looking for Ed.
I see a phone box nearby and notice it has a phone book inside secured by a piece of rope. I can look up Ed’s number! Or at least his parents’ number. Ed said he moved a lot, so he could be anywhere on the coast.
The phone book has seen better days, but most of its pages still seem to be intact. I open it up to M and scan through the entries for Matthews. Jeez. There are a lot. Why couldn’t he have a less common name? Ed’s dad’s name is Steven, so I skip to the S listings. There are three. One is in Maroochydore, one is in Kawana and one is at Peregian Beach. I dial the one at Peregian Beach, since it’s the closest. It rings out. The Kawana one turns out to be an old lady called Sandra who has never heard of Ed or his parents. I dial the Maroochydore one and a message comes on.
“Hi. You’ve reached the Matthews’. We’re not able to come to the phone right now, but if you leave your name and number, we’ll be sure to call you back.”
It’s a lovely sounding woman. Could it be Ed’s mum? It’s distressing to know that she won’t be around for much longer. Ed told me she passed away just before Christmas in 1996.
I figure I can catch a bus to Peregian and check out the first address, and then if Ed doesn’t live there, I can continue on to Maroochydore on the next bus. I find the nearest bus stop and wait.
A few minutes later, one arrives and I climb on. It’s almost empty. I sit near the front and rest my hands in my lap.
I look out the window at the glimpses of ocean as the bus takes its meandering journey down the coast. I’m weirdly starting to feel like this is more home than Brisbane. It could just be because I spent a lot of my early life here. I was born in Melbourne, but we moved to Shell Beach when I was five. The most important years of my life occurred around this area.
Or it could just be that because I’ve never made really good friends in Brisbane, I don’t feel like I have the roots.
I wonder if I’ll have time to call Kelsey today. It will be interesting to see how she responds to my revelation of her secret if I need to use it. But is there any point in telling her who I really am? I don’t know if I have the energy to go through the same scenario all over again.
We get to Peregian and I jump out. I stupidly forgot to check which street I was after. I again lament the lack of GPS and Google Maps on my phone. I almost laugh when I realise that Google doesn’t even exist yet!
What did people do back in the nineties when they were lost? If you were driving, you would use the street directory in your car. But what if you were on foot?
I see a service station up ahead. Maybe their staff will be able to help me. I go inside and buy a bottle of Coke and ask the guy at the counter if he knows where Cormorant Crescent is. He pulls out a map and unfolds it in front of me.
“It’s about two kilometres that way,” he says, pointing in the direction my bus just came. I sigh. I guess I have all day, so a twenty-five minute walk shouldn’t be too bad. And hopefully I can wave down the next bus at an earlier stop, so I won’t have to walk all the way back here after.
“Thank you.”
I trek back up the road, sipping my Coke. At least the weather isn’t too hot. For a winter’s day though, it’s quite mild, and the sky is blue. I love being on the coast on days like today.
I finally reach Cormorant Crescent. The house belonging to this S. Matthews is pretty impressive. It’s a two-story concrete-rendered house painted white with terracotta trims, and it has a beautifully kept tropical garden out the front. I can’t say I even knew whether Ed’s family had money when they were younger. His dad lives alone in a small apartment in Shell Beach now.
I nervously go up and ring the doorbell. And then panic. What am I supposed to say? Why didn’t I spend some time planning a cover story? For some reason, I keep thinking Ed will automatically know who I am, but of course he won’t.
A girl in her early twenties answers the door.
“Yeah?”
“Oh, hi. I was just wondering if Ed lives here?”
“Nope. No Ed here.”
“Do you know Ed Matthews?” I ask, not wanting to feel like the last twenty-five minutes have been a waste of time.
“Sorry. I don’t.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
I
start to walk away. Someone calls out to the girl.
“Just some weirdo looking for an Ed,” I hear her yell back.
Hey! That was a bit uncalled for. Oh well. As long as Ed’s parents don’t have a silent number, I’m pretty sure I have their address now.
I manage to catch the next bus without having to walk too far, and find myself in Maroochydore half an hour later. I should have asked for directions to this address at the last service station, but after a quick visit to another one, I find that the house I’m looking for is only a couple of blocks away.
I’m not far from The Palace, so depending on what happens with Ed, I figure I can grab some lunch there afterwards. Hopefully Mum will already have bought my leggings and left the mall by then, so the chances of running into her will be slim.
At least not being prepared in Peregian has forced me to think through what I’m going to say now. I’m going to ask to use Ed’s phone to call a friend under the pretence I’m lost.
I reach the street I’m after and find the house. It’s a little old white bungalow with a green roof. As I walk up the driveway, I note that it’s not nearly as fancy as the last place I went to.
There’s no answer when I knock, but I can hear faint music coming from around the back.
The driveway continues on to a shed in the backyard, so I follow it around and peek at the source of the noise.
I freeze. Thankfully there’s a tree to hide me, so I position myself behind it.
Ed is there. He’s reclining on an old-fashioned sun lounger and smoking a cigarette. I didn’t know Ed smoked! He hid that well.
He looks great, though. As an eighteen-year-old, he’d grown out the crewcut and had his hair longer on top so that it covered half his face. I watch as he chats to a girl lying beside him on a towel on the ground. She’s flicking through a magazine—and she is absolutely gorgeous. Her hair is long, straight and brown with natural blonde highlights, and she has lovely tanned skin. Her toned body is clad in a tiny coral-coloured bikini, and I can tell from here that she has beautiful full lips painted a dark red.
I wonder about their relationship status for a second, until she suddenly jumps up and straddles Ed, leaning forward and kissing him deeply. I experience a sudden rush of conflicting emotions. This is my husband kissing another woman! I’m jealous, but intrigued. Who is this girl?
I inch a bit closer to see if I can hear what they’re saying.
“Do you have to go to uni?” the girl sighs. “Can’t you stay here? I’ll make it worth your while.” She runs her tongue down his stomach to illustrate her point.
Ed groans. “Oh God. What are you doing to me? You know I have an exam this afternoon! If it was any other day, I wouldn’t go.” He points to a book beside him. “I should be studying now.”
She pouts. “What time do you finish? Can I stay here and wait for you?”
“If you like. I’m sure Mum won’t mind. You know she loves you.”
“She’s the best,” the girl agrees.
I feel an additional stab of envy that this girl got to have a relationship with my husband’s mother—and an apparently mutually favourable one too.
“Now baby, I really should finish off this chapter.” He pulls her in for another long kiss and then playfully pushes her off the lounger. “Stop distracting me.”
She crawls back over to the towel and unties her bikini top, tossing it on the ground and lying facing up.
I feel like an intruder, but I can’t look away. Ed glances at her and throws up his hands.
“Come on! You’re playing dirty now.”
He leaps up and launches himself on top of the girl, kissing her exposed breasts and rubbing his hands all over her body.
I can’t take anymore. I back away as quietly as I can. Except I didn’t count on knocking over a pot plant. Shit.
The ceramic pot shatters on the ground, but I don’t stop, bolting down the road without looking back. I hide in a neighbouring yard and pray that no one is coming after me.
And then I start to cry.
THIRTEEN
I’m not sure how long I cower in that stranger’s front yard, but I’m glad they don’t seem to be home. I know I’m being totally irrational. After all, I should have expected this. Of course Ed has a past. Just because he’s never told me about it, doesn’t mean it never existed. And this was when I was sixteen! I had just broken up with Todd, so I can’t talk.
But what he seemed to have there was way more serious than my stupid high school fling. And she was so pretty! And confident! Ed was always going on about how I needed to be more outgoing. Was he thinking about this girl when he said it?
I wonder how many other girlfriends he had between her and me. It could be dozens. Or it could just be her. Ed was eighteen in 1996. He could technically have dated her for another six years before I came along.
I finally stretch out my legs and walk off in the direction of The Palace. I check my reflection in the side mirror of a nearby parked car and see that my eyes are puffy and my skin is all pink. I didn’t even bring my sunglasses with me. I can’t go to the mall looking like this.
And then I spot the perfect location for brooding. An internet café. The interior is dark and almost deserted. I go to the counter and pay for a computer, sitting right in the corner, as far away from the door as possible.
I stare at the bulky PC and monitor on the desk in front of me.
What am I supposed to do now?
I half-heartedly log on and an AltaVista search box appears on the screen. I have no idea what to type. The news sites didn’t even properly exist back then. All I remember doing is sending emails and chatting to US college boys online.
Interestingly, I still have the same Hotmail address I had at sixteen. The realisation makes me laugh as I type in the email’s web address. What password would I have used in 1996? I had a habit of using celebrity crush names, but I don’t know who I would have been into at the time.
And then I remember the spine of my diary. John! I type in John, plus my favourite number, which is thirteen. My first attempt with everything in lower-case doesn’t work, but the second one with a capital J logs me in. I feel like I’ve just won the lottery.
I have lots of emails from Kelsey, and a bunch from the aforementioned college boys. Jeez. Some of them were intense! One guy called Lex declared his love for me, and I never even knew what he looked like. Did I just shrug it off as a joke? Another one was trying to arrange a time so we could chat more intimately. Ew. I guess the internet always had the potential for exploitation.
I skim through the messages from Kelsey. I’d forgotten that we used to write to each other at lunchtime in the computer lab, even though we were practically sitting next to each other in the same room. I think we were just obsessed with the novelty of the internet at the time.
I stop at one message with the subject Are you OK?
Hey babe,
How are you coping post break-up? I know you’re the one who did the dumping, but I also know a big part of that decision was because of what Todd did to you at the party. That was really sucky of him. Don’t worry, we’ll find you another guy soon. Someone way hotter than that idiot Todd!
I start to cry again. Right now the guy who is supposed to be a million times better than any other guy I’ve ever dated is making out with someone else. Even in the future, things are weird between us.
I try not to make any noise, but a small whimper escapes.
“Are you okay?”
You’ve got to be kidding me. Is this the universe’s idea of a joke?
I turn around and come face to face with Kurt.
“I’m fine,” I mutter. This is the last thing I need…Kurt being nice to me when I’m in the midst of a marital crisis.
He kneels down beside me. “Are you sure?” He glances up at the computer screen. “Are you upset because of what it says in that message?”
I snort. “No. Todd was a tool.”
“Oh, okay. Do y
ou want to talk about what is upsetting you?”
“Not really.” I should get up and leave. He’s not going to remember anything after today anyway, so it won’t matter if I’m rude.
He doesn’t get the hint. “Do you want to come and get a drink? I’m on my break and it will be much more interesting if I have company.”
“What are you doing here?” I sniff. “Don’t you work at the music store?”
He doesn’t seem surprised that I know this. But then of course anyone could have visited and seen him there. “Yeah, but it’s only around the corner and I was going to kill some time with this lame computer game before I have to go back.” He holds up a CD with a creepy looking cover and the title The 11th Hour.
I have a vague recollection of Todd talking about that game.
“Is that the sequel to The 7th Guest?” I ask, despite myself.
His eyes light up. “Yes! You know it?”
“Sort of. I haven’t played it or anything. I just know some people who have.”
He grins and looks outside. “That’s cool. But you know what? I’ve decided it’s too nice a day to spend indoors. Come and hang out with me.”
I hesitate. I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t.
He sees me wavering. “Come on. It’s not every day I meet a girl who has actually heard of the computer games I play.”
“Or who can tell the difference between vinyl and CD,” I joke.
He looks even more pleased. “Yes! Oh my God, you get it!”
“Someone showed me the difference recently, and I finally understand the fuss.”
“Well, then you definitely have to come and hang out.”
I battle internally for another few seconds and then shrug. Why not? This man keeps being thrown in my face. I might as well get to know a bit more about him. I can be a mature adult about it.
I stand up. “Lead the way.”
We walk back out onto the street and Kurt ducks into a small takeaway shop to buy a couple of bottles of lemon squash.
“What if I didn’t like lemon squash?” I ask, half smiling as he hands me the bottle.
“I just had a feeling you did. And if you didn’t want it, I’d just keep it for myself for later. Oh, but before we go any further, I have to ask you one question. Do you like sarsaparilla?”
1996 (90s Flashback Series) Page 10