The Newcomer

by Laura Elizabeth Woollett

  Paulina started crying. ‘I’m so shit. Why would anyone wanna be with me?’

  ‘You’re not shit.’ Judy’s tone was stern. ‘You’re smart and good and beautiful. You just need to have a bit more faith in yourself.’

  ‘I had one chance. I had one chance with the most perfect guy, and I fucked it up.’

  ‘Ric?’

  ‘No! Vinnie!’ Paulina sobbed. ‘He was perfect!’

  ‘He wasn’t.’ Judy sighed. ‘I know you loved him, but he wasn’t perfect.’

  ‘He gave me everything and I fucked it up.’

  ‘That guy from the Melbourne office practically raped you, and all Vinnie could think about was his bruised ego. He wasn’t perfect.’

  ‘I wasn’t raped. Gawd!’ Paulina took another gulp of beer. ‘I was a drunk slut. That’s all.’

  ‘Paulina. Baby.’ Judy must’ve meant business, calling her baby. ‘You’re not a slut. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.’

  ‘You’re so annoying.’

  ‘You’ve been through a lot. These past months, especially. You had a miscarriage, for chrissakes. You’re going through a break-up. You’re very strong, coping all by yourself.’

  Paulina wiped her eyes. ‘Stop talking shit.’

  ‘I’ve been twenty-nine before. It’s an awkward age. Don’t feel bad about having a few growing pains.’

  ‘You’re so lame.’

  ‘You’re very strong. You’re very independent. You have no idea how proud I am.’ Judy took a deep breath. ‘So, you’re really set on this Mazda, are you?’

  ‘I dunno. I was kinda drunk when I saw it.’

  ‘Well, don’t go car-shopping when you’re drunk. That’s like buying groceries when you’re hungry. Do you still want me to call the dealerships tomorrow?’

  ‘Nah.’ Paulina sniffled. ‘I’ll do it.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yeah. Not like I’ve got anything better to do.’

  After hanging up, Paulina finished her beer, brushed her teeth, and went to bed. But partway through the night, she woke dry-mouthed and afraid of the total darkness, the howling of the sea winds through the palms.

  She pulled the phone book from her bedside, found his number and dialled.

  ‘Jess? I know you said not to call. I just miss you so much. Please, can you come over? We don’t have to talk. I’m just so scared. I don’t wanna be alone. Please?’

  ‘Um,’ a groggy male voice replied. ‘I think you’ve got the wrong number.’

  ‘You’re not Jesse? Where’s Jesse? Who are you?’

  ‘Sean,’ he said. ‘Sean Campbell.’

  ‘Hey, Sean. Get fucked!’

  Paulina slammed down the phone.

  On Sunday morning, she woke to a silence worse than all the drills and hammers in the world. She couldn’t remember exactly what she’d done the night before, only that it involved getting kicked out of Wetties, and hitching a ride back to Mutes’ with a carload of drunk boys who’d made her feel like a cat among a pack of dogs, and many drunken phone calls. She thought about killing herself, but couldn’t decide how, and whether to leave a note. Such a slut, deserve to die, she wrote in her diary.

  She cried a bit; considered calling her mum. But her mum would tell her to come home, and she didn’t want to go home; her island was her home!

  She hauled herself out of bed, pulled on her exercise clothes, fastened her Discman to her waistband, and put her sunglasses on to face the harsh winter sun.

  On her walk, people kept raising their hands off their wheels in greeting, slowing down to offer her a ride into town. It was annoying, but she forgot about killing herself for a while.

  She was reminded, though, reaching the cliffs near the national park. She walked on in a panic, all the way to Piney’s Point, where she watched the surfers cutting through the waves, slick as aliens in their wetsuits.

  She wished she’d brought her smokes. She sat, freezing in her sports bra, until some teenaged boys came by, surfboards under their arms.

  ‘Hey, do you smoke?’ Paulina asked hopefully. ‘Can I bum a smoke?’

  They giggled.

  ‘Yeah, yeah. Do you have any ciggies or not?’

  More giggles. Then one of them swaggered forward, offered a pack of Winnies. She took one, let him light it for her.

  ‘Cheers, kid.’ Paulina sighed as the smoke swaddled her nerves. ‘Careful out there. Those waves look pretty big.’

  That got more giggles. Paulina rolled her eyes, waved them away.

  She didn’t plan to go into town. But that’s where she wound up. She bummed another smoke from a bloke outside the Blue Moon Café, then walked on to Rainbow Real Estate, looked at the pictures of houses. Trekked uphill to Camilleri’s.

  ‘Hey,’ she mumbled, door dinging behind her. ‘Um.’

  Jesse turned away. Opened the door to the cutting room and yelled, ‘Dad!’

  Joe Camilleri appeared in his bloody apron, looked from Jesse to Paulina. ‘Get this mainie,’ Jesse muttered, shouldering past his dad.

  ‘Um.’ Paulina felt as though there were splinters of glass in her eyes. ‘Just a chicken breast.’

  Joe scooped a chicken breast into a bag, weighed it up, wrapped and stickered it.

  ‘Shit.’ Tears spilled down her cheeks. ‘I’m so sorry. I forgot my—’

  Joe held out the package. ‘Next time.’

  Paulina wiped her face. ‘Cheers.’

  She was barely two steps out of the shop when she bumped into Eddy’s wife, Eeva, and his mum, pushing a pram. ‘Watch where you’re going, cow,’ she snapped.

  ‘Stay away from my son,’ Eddy’s mum snapped back.

  ‘Not my fault you never taught him to keep it in his pants,’ Paulina taunted.

  The old bitch slapped her. She slapped back; was ready to do worse, only Eeva was grabbing the pram from her mother-in-law’s hands and steering it away.

  ‘By the way!’ Paulina jeered at Eeva. ‘Eddy hates wearing condoms!’

  She flounced down the street feeling glorious and savage, like she’d just harpooned a whale. But the sheen wore off as soon as Mutes’ came back into view.

  Silence stretched out like an ocean all around her.

  ‘Yorana, sweetheart.’ Car King smiled at her. His teeth were big and white against his year-round tan; his overbite pronounced. ‘Couldn’t stay away, eh.’

  ‘You gonna offer me a better deal this time?’

  ‘$24,999, drive away.’

  ‘They charge less on the mainland.’

  ‘Import costs. You have any idea how hard it is to bring one of these babies in from the supply ship?’

  ‘Yeah. I know how youse bring them in.’

  ‘With all due respect, sweetheart, you’ll never know. It’s a man’s job. Us men put our lives on the line every time we go out there.’ Car moved his collar aside to show her a bit of scar tissue. ‘See that? Did it when I was—’

  ‘$18,000.’

  ‘You trying to insult me, sweetheart?’

  ‘You think I don’t know about salt damage?’

  ‘Wash her once a week. I bet you wash your hair more often.’

  She tucked her hair behind her ears. ‘Maybe I’ll just go to a proper dealer in Sydney.’

  ‘Not before taking her for a test-drive on our beautiful ocean roads, eh?’

  Paulina followed Car inside, wrote her details in the log book, and handed over her credit card as he got the keys. Car glanced at the log book. ‘You living at Mutes’?’

  ‘I work there. I’m staying with friends right now.’

  ‘Wanna write your friend’s address?’

  ‘Nah.’

  ‘What’s this phone number?’

  Paulina rolled her eyes. ‘It’s made-up, alright? Can I have the keys
now?’

  Car dangled the keys in her face. When she made a grab for them, he closed his fist.

  ‘Fuck this.’ Paulina turned away. ‘Give me back my card.’

  ‘I’m just playing, eh.’ He handed her the keys. ‘Be my guest, sweetheart.’

  They walked out to the car. She let herself in, inhaled the clean, warm smell. Car came around to the passenger side, made a big show of putting the seat back. ‘Nothing like that new car smell, eh?’

  ‘Better than fat old Car smell.’

  He laughed. She slipped the keys in the ignition, placed her hands on the steering wheel. ‘Like the feel of that wheel? All leather.’

  ‘Uh huh.’

  ‘Automatic climate control.’ He showed her some buttons. ‘Radio. CD player, for your music. You like music?’

  ‘Uh huh.’

  ‘I’ve seen you walking around with those thingies in your ears. Always wondered what you were listening to.’

  Paulina rolled the car out of the yard.

  ‘Smooth sailing, eh?’ Car pestered her. ‘Go on. Throw her some curves.’

  Paulina sped up, flew beyond the shopping strip and sleepy resorts, towards the scenic bend of Klee Welkin Road. ‘You know what “Klee Welkin” means?’ Car asked.

  ‘Duh. “Clear sky.”’

  ‘Rabbit teach you Fayrf’k?’

  She zoomed up to King’s Lookout, that view that felt like dying and looking down from heaven. ‘It’s not like it’s hard.’

  ‘You know, the mainie teachers used to belt us for speaking Fayrf’k, back in the day.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah. Ric told me all his sob stories from the dark ages.’

  ‘He teach you our dirty words?’

  Paulina smiled. ‘I know “kuka”, shit. “Plana”, banana — as in, dick. “Kuka plana”, shit-dick. That’s a good one.’

  ‘You know what “pua” means?’

  ‘Flowers … bananas. Youse make everything sound so innocent.’

  ‘Nature’s nature. No shame, eh.’ He pointed. ‘Mind the tour bus.’

  Paulina slowed as the bus passed, probably headed back to King’s Lookout. She looped down to King’s Pier, up again past the airport, the Fairfolk Bowmen’s Club, Piney’s Point.

  ‘Look at that.’ Car gestured out the window. ‘Nay views like that in Sydney, eh?’

  ‘I dunno. Palm Beach is alright.’

  ‘Palm Beach? Pssh. I’ve been all over the world, sweetheart. Trust me, there’s nowhere like Fairfolk.’

  Paulina didn’t trust him, but she did believe him, on that one.

  ‘Go up to the national park,’ Car suggested. ‘It’s beautiful up there.’

  ‘I dunno.’

  ‘Go on. It’s beautiful.’

  Slowing, Paulina began the steep, winding climb up to the park. The road changed to dirt, trees on all sides. She stopped at the metal gate where the walking track began.

  ‘Wanna get out? Look around?’

  ‘Nah.’ Paulina’s heart quickened in the sudden dimness. ‘I’ve walked here loads of times. With Ric.’

  Car closed his huge hand over her thigh. ‘Walking’s not what I had in mind.’

  ‘Nah,’ she said brazenly, though she felt tiny under the canopy of pines. ‘No way.’

  ‘Look how miggy you are.’ He squeezed, stroked upwards. ‘I bet you’ve got the sweetest pua, eh.’

  Paulina pushed his hand away. ‘I don’t like married men.’

  ‘Eddy MacArthur?’

  ‘Don’t like him.’ Paulina put the car into reverse. ‘He can’t keep it up for more than five minutes.’

  Car folded his arms. ‘That’s cos he’s a MacArthur. You need the royal treatment. I’ll make you scream all night long.’

  ‘I’d rather sleep all night, no offence.’

  She began the swerving drive downhill, a few points above the speed limit.

  ‘You’re the boss, sweetheart.’ Car’s face was patchy-red. ‘Mind the speed, though. We’re in a thirty-zone.’

  Paulina slowed. Car stared out the window like a gorilla in an enclosure. As town came back into view, she asked, ‘Do you crack onto all your customers?’

  ‘Never had a customer as pretty as you before.’ Car passed his pale eyes over her. ‘I wouldn’t be a man if I didn’t have a crack.’

  ‘It’s a shit sales tactic.’

  ‘You’re a handful, eh. Surprised you didn’t give Rabbit a heart attack.’

  ‘He’s in good shape, that’s why. I like men who take care of themselves.’

  ‘Why aren’t you in Sydney then, dating one of those kuka planas who wears pink shirts and moisturises his face every day?’

  Paulina grimaced. ‘Gawd, you’re a pig.’

  ‘You know that’s what you want, deep in your pua.’ Smirking, Car pointed out Tabby’s Treasures. ‘That’s my wife’s shop. You ever want a nice piece of jewellery, come see me.’

  ‘What does your wife think about you offering discounts to other women?’

  ‘She thinks what I tell her to think. She wouldn’t have a leg to stand on without me.’

  Paulina turned back into The Car Kings, pulled the keys from the ignition. ‘Thanks for the ride.’ She handed them back. ‘Shame about the company.’

  Car got out, came around to her door and opened it.

  ‘Wanna write down your number?’ he asked, back at the counter. ‘So I can call you about the car?’

  ‘Nah.’

  ‘Howabout so I can ask you out? I’d love to take you out on my boat sometime.’

  ‘Nah.’ Paulina coughed weakly. ‘I think I’m coming down with something, hey.’

  ‘Where’re you staying? I’ll bring you some oranges from my orange tree.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Paulina held her hand out for her credit card. ‘But no thanks.’

  The next morning, Paulina woke with a headache that was more than a hangover. Her throat ached too. Her joints. Everything.

  She put on her exercise clothes anyway, tied a hoodie around her waist.

  On her walk, she picked wild oranges from a tree near Fergal’s Farm, gathered them up in her hoodie. A young guy with muscly white arms pulled up in a white Camry and asked, ‘Need a lift?’

  ‘Nah, thanks.’

  The walk back felt long, though. She stopped at Foodfolk to pick up some supplies.

  ‘Slim pickings,’ she complained to Flick, taking her cans of split-pea soup and tuna in lemon-brine to the counter. ‘When’s the supply ship due?’

  ‘Day after tomorrow.’

  ‘Can I have a bag for these oranges?’

  Flick gave her another bag. ‘Heard you slapped Eddy’s mum.’

  ‘She started it.’ Paulina dumped the oranges in the bag. ‘It’s her fault that bastard was born in the first place.’

  As she was pulling on her hoodie, Rita stormed over. ‘Did you pay for those oranges?’

  ‘I came in with them.’ Paulina sneered. ‘Check the CCTV.’

  ‘The CCTV’s down.’

  ‘Go fuck a rabbit.’ Paulina gave her the finger. ‘See ya, Flick.’

  Despite her hoodie, she started shivering inside the bottle-O. She grabbed two casks of goon; was already tired of carrying them by the time she left the store.

  She started back to Mutes’, then got dizzy. Doubled back to Foodfolk and parked herself on the bench outside, head-in-hands.

  ‘You’re loitering,’ Rita came out to tell her. ‘Move along.’

  ‘Give me a break! I’m dizzy.’

  ‘Drunk at eleven am?’ Rita shook her head. ‘You’re worse than Tatiana.’

  Paulina wiped her eyes. ‘I’ll go in a sec. Just give me a sec.’

  Rita sighed, went back inside. Paulina clutched her head again, dried more tears. When a car door sl
ammed nearby, she grimaced in pain.

  A dog ran up to the bench, licked her hands.

  ‘Hey, Jake.’ She recognised him. ‘Jakey-boy.’

  The dog’s owner nodded, noticed her shopping bags. ‘Need a lift?’

  ‘Um. Yeah.’ Paulina blushed. ‘Cheers.’

  ‘Two minutes.’

  It was more like fifteen. She had her eyes closed and her head pressed to Jake’s when the old guy came out with his shopping.

  ‘Cheers,’ she said again, struggling to lift her bags.

  He took them off her. Let her into his jeep. ‘Where to?’

  ‘Just up the road. Mutes’.’

  ‘They’re renovating, nay?’

  Paulina’s eyelids drooped. ‘I’m just crashing till I find something permanent.’

  ‘You should talk to my missus. She’s got a cottage.’

  Paulina smiled wanly; she didn’t feel like talking to anybody’s missus.

  ‘Jake likes you,’ the old guy said, midway through the drive. Arriving at Mutes’, he repeated, ‘You should talk to my missus. Vera MacArthur.’

  ‘Any relation to Eddy?’ Paulina reached for her bags.

  The old guy shrugged. ‘Probably.’

  ‘Thanks for the lift.’ Paulina got out of the jeep. ‘See ya around.’

  She staggered up the driveway to cabin twelve; collapsed on the couch with her shopping as soon as she unlocked the door.

  By nightfall, she was coughing up green phlegm.

  Paulina didn’t leave the cabin at all the next day, except to ask Leki to buy her some Panadol. The day after, the drilling woke her. She took a shower so hot it almost knocked her out; huddled on the tiles in her towel.

  After a while, she noticed the drilling had stopped. Shakily, she put on her trakkies, an old jumper of Rabbit’s.

  ‘Where’re youse going?’ she croaked, toddling up the driveway.

  ‘Supply ship’s arriving!’ Leki grinned. ‘Wanna watch?’

  ‘Are youse coming back later?’

  ‘Nay! We’re getting pissed!’

  Paulina watched the guys drive out, before getting shivery again. She went back inside to her hovel of tissues and blankets, slept away the afternoon.

  ‘I miss Ric,’ she told her mum that night. ‘He looked after me.’

  ‘That’s just the flu talking.’