‘I miss Ric,’ she repeated, sniffing his jumper. ‘He loved me.’
Judy sighed. ‘I wish I was there to take care of you.’
‘I want Ric.’
After hanging up on her mum, she microwaved some goon with orange slices and called Rabbit’s. Bunny answered. ‘Can I talk to your dad?’ Paulina pleaded.
‘No!’
‘Can you tell him I miss him?’
‘No way!’
‘Please, Bun?’ She started coughing. ‘I feel like I’m dying.’
‘Eww!’ Bunny giggled and hung up.
She trudged back to bed, tossed and turned. Woke to the rustling of the wind — only, it was more than the wind. It was footsteps, her name being called.
‘Paulina!’ The steps reached her cabin. ‘Open up, sweetheart!’
Rolling out of bed, Paulina turned on the porch light.
‘What the fuck, Car?’ she cried through the flyscreen. ‘Go home!’
Car reached for the doorhandle. ‘Why’s it locked?’
‘Cos I’m not letting you in, dickhead.’
‘I’m here about the car.’ Car leaned closer; she could smell the liquor on him. ‘I’m here … to let you screw me over. Open up, sweetheart.’
‘Fuck off or I’ll call your wife!’
Car pushed the door with his shoulder. When that didn’t work, he fumbled in his pocket; started jimmying the lock.
‘Car! You can’t do that!’
‘Aye.’ He grunted with the effort. ‘Done it many times.’
The door gave way. Car stumbled inside, steadied himself against her.
‘You smell good, sweetheart.’
‘No I don’t. I stink. I’m sick; I’ll infect you.’
‘I’ll take my chances, eh!’ He leaned in for the kill.
‘Don’t.’ Paulina turned her face away. ‘I’m sick.’
‘Too sick for me to lick your pua?’
‘Yeah, Car.’ She shoved him away. ‘I’m too sick.’
Car squinted as she switched on the lights. Then he lurched into the kitchen and pulled up a chair. ‘Make me something to eat, eh?’
‘Are you kidding me?’ Paulina clutched her aching head. ‘Fine, yeah. I’ll make you a sandwich, you fat fuck. Then you fuck off home to your wife. Okay?’
‘You’re the boss, sweetheart.’
As she got out the bread and peanut butter, Car got up. ‘What’re you dressing like that for?’ He lifted the hem of her jumper. ‘You’ve got a nice li’l body under there.’
‘I’m sick.’ She slapped his hand away. ‘This’s how I dress when I’m sick.’
He took a piece of bread, chewed it. ‘Bread’s stale, sweetheart.’
‘Tough shit.’
‘Supply ship arrived today.’ He slipped his hand inside her jumper. ‘I put my life on the line today, so you can buy bread and butter.’
She elbowed him. He caught her elbows, smooched her neck.
‘Don’t, Car.’ She recoiled. ‘Go home to your wife.’
‘Nice arse.’ He nudged his dick aganst it. ‘You’re miggy, but that’s a sweet arse.’
‘Do you want your sandwich or not?’
‘Nay!’ Car put his hands down her pants and laughed incredulously. ‘Nay undies? You knew I was coming tonight, eh!’
Paulina kicked him in the shin, struggled free. ‘Don’t, Car! I’m calling your wife!’
But the phone was in the bedroom, and the bedroom was just a smaller space for him to take over. As she opened the phone book, scanned the rows and rows of Kings, Car ripped the phone from the wall.
‘Car!’ she yelped. ‘Don’t!’
If there was a part of his brain that cared about words, it was out of commission. Car pushed her back onto the bed, hefted himself on top. Unzipped.
‘Bastard!’ She clawed and bit. ‘I don’t want you, bastard!’
He lodged his forearm against her throat.
‘You knew I was coming.’ Yanking down her pants, he spat on his palm. ‘You’re wet.’
‘I can’t breathe. Bastard.’ Paulina sobbed as he slicked her up. Stuck it in. ‘You’re hurting me. Bastard.’
Car kissed her gritted teeth. ‘Nay fight me and you’ll nay get hurt.’
Car was gone before the drilling and hammering started, but the reek of him wasn’t. After showering, Paulina stripped the bed, gathered up the sheets and walked to reception.
‘Oh,’ she mumbled, seeing Jesse mixing paints. ‘Hi.’
Jesse ignored her. She walked on to the laundry. Chucked the sheets in the wash and got some fresh ones from the linen closet.
‘Jess?’ The tears spilled as soon as she spoke. ‘Please, can we talk? I feel so shit.’
‘Not my problem,’ Jesse replied tonelessly. ‘Tell someone who cares.’
Paulina fled to her cabin. The bread and peanut butter were still on the counter. She chucked them.
She chucked her used tissues, orange peels, emptied and rinsed the mugs that potholed the cabin. She made the bed.
Clipping on her Discman and sunnies, she took the rubbish out and kept walking.
‘Yorana, sweetheart,’ Car greeted her with his usual swagger, but he looked surprised to see her. Nervous, even. ‘What can I do for you then, eh?’
Paulina’s eyes wandered to his neck. She’d left scratches, bite-marks.
‘I’m here about the car.’ She crossed her arms. ‘I’m here to screw you over.’
KUKA PLANA
There was a certain kind of Fairfolk guy Jesse Camilleri had always assumed he was better than: the kind who hung out at the airport in high season, trawling for fresh meat. Until the day he was waiting for his sister to disembark her flight from Brisbane and saw Bunny White stepping onto the tarmac, looking fresher than milk-fed veal.
‘Whew! New mainie in town,’ whistled Grandy Greatorex, who had a wife and three kids at home — not that that ever stopped him.
‘Sweet legs,’ echoed Kristian King. ‘How long you bet till I’m between ’em?’
Jesse wouldn’t have recognised her either, looking like a mainie in that bejewelled T-shirt, white denim skirt. Wouldn’t have given her a second glance, if it wasn’t for her flying into the arms of the same man he’d fantasised, many times, about beating to a pulp.
‘That’s nay mainie, brudda,’ Jesse said. ‘That’s Rabbit’s kid.’
They were all quiet for a moment, watching Bunny’s skirt inch up her thighs as she hugged her dad; tightening around her sweet little arse as she kissed Rita.
‘She’s grown,’ Kristian marvelled. ‘Reckon she’s been broken in yet?’
Jesse spotted his sister, Janey, descending the staircase with her two little girls. He finished his beer and took another look at Bunny.
‘This one’s mine,’ he told the guys.
‘Saw that TV program,’ Janey told him, eating a late dinner of spaghetti and meatballs after putting the girls to bed. ‘About your girlfriend.’
Jesse dabbed sauce from his lips. ‘She wasn’t my girlfriend.’
‘Jus’ friends,’ their dad, Joe, backed him up with a wink.
‘You looked like more than friends when I walked in on you two dry-humping on New Year’s Eve.’
‘Everyone hooks up on New Year’s.’ Jesse flushed. ‘And that was two years ago. Can you leave it alone?’
‘Leave it alone, Janey.’ Joe flicked him a pitying look. ‘It was what it was.’
Janey forked a meatball and sucked off the sauce.
‘Why do you have to eat them like that?’ Jesse cringed. ‘It’s verly gross, eh.’
Janey got an evil glint in her eye, kept doing it. Then she stopped and said, ‘If you were just friends, why are you still single?’
‘Jesus-fuck.’ Jesse put down his fork.
‘Why do you have to know everything?’
‘She deserved better, eh.’ Janey frowned. ‘After that ex-boyfriend. What was his problem? Slagging off a dead girl on national TV.’
Jesse shrugged. ‘She cheated on him.’
‘Probably had a good reason. Seemed like a controlling little prick.’ Janey sighed. ‘Her poor mother. All alone. I can’t imagine.’
Jesse shovelled more spaghetti into his mouth. Her poor mother didn’t cut it. Didn’t come close to what he’d felt, seeing Judy Novak’s tear-streaked face on TV.
A woman to kill for. That was the feeling.
Janey read his mind. ‘Still think it was Rabbit?’
‘Aye.’ Jesse met her gaze. ‘He was obsessed with her.’
‘Could say the same about you.’
A few days later, Rita came into Camilleri’s to pester him about her Christmas ham. She brought Bunny with her.
‘Sorry, Rita,’ Jesse apologised. ‘Seven kilo’s the biggest we’ve got.’
Bunny was wearing board shorts, a white T-shirt that showed a pale strip of tummy. The way she stood — slouched, one arm across her body to clutch the other — reminded him of Janey at a certain age; old enough to get stared at by men, young enough to have a Care Bears collection.
‘We’ve got forty guests to feed!’ Rita griped.
Jesse shrugged. ‘Maybe you bes’ butcher your own hog.’
As Rita sighed and scrabbled for her wallet, Jesse cast another glance at Bunny. She caught it; smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear.
Like shooting fish in a barrel, he thought, and told himself he wasn’t that kind of guy. But on Christmas morning he happened to drive past St Bartholomew’s, and there was Bunny on the church steps, and, more importantly, there was Rabbit: bald spot gleaming in the morning sun, grinning like a bastard who’d gotten away with it.
Next time he saw Bunny was after New Year’s, when he came into Foodfolk on his morning break to buy a choc-milk. She was working the check-out.
‘Yorana.’ Bunny smiled at him. A real smile, not a customer service smile. ‘You good?’
‘Aye.’ Jesse’s eyes wandered down to her name tag: Elena. ‘You back on the rock all summer?’
‘Till school starts.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Boarding school.’
‘Brisbane?’
‘Outside Brisbane. Toowoomba.’
‘Full of racists?’
Bunny laughed, shrugged.
‘I did a year of fine arts. The mainland’s full of racists, eh.’
‘Nobody believes I’ve got Polynesian blood.’ Bunny smiled. ‘They say I’m too white.’
‘Yeah, well.’ Jesse glanced at the pale skin inside her wrist. ‘You are.’
Bunny laughed again.
He nodded at the cigarette display. ‘Some smokes, too.’
Her smile twitched. ‘Camels?’
‘Aye.’ Jesse leaned on the counter. ‘You know me.’
Bunny scurried off for his ciggies. Scanned them with lowered eyes.
‘Saw you at the airport,’ Jesse ventured. ‘Almost didn’t recognise you.’
She gave him a million-watt smile. ‘I got my braces off.’
‘That must be it.’ He looked her up and down. ‘You gonna be down at the beach this summer? Getting some colour?’
Bunny rolled her eyes again. ‘Rita’s making me work, like, every day.’
‘After work?’ He leaned closer. ‘Sunset?’
Bunny shrugged, blushed harder.
‘Fish and chips at the beach, sunset?’
He picked her up at six, around the corner from Foodfolk; drove two minutes up the road to the Great-O White Shark Grill. She stank of some kind of vanilla body-spray, had glossed her lips and swapped her uniform shirt for a camisole. He hadn’t changed.
‘You coming in?’ he asked her outside Great-O’s. ‘Or too embarrassed?’
He indicated his stained shirt, stubble.
‘I’m nay embarrassed.’ Her cheeks pinkened. ‘You look good.’
Grandy Greatorex was behind the counter. Jesse ignored his winks and thumbs-up. On the way out, though, he smirked at Grandy and clutched the small of Bunny’s back.
He parked at Piney’s Point, where the sky was doing wild things in pink and orange.
‘Check it out,’ he told Bunny, spreading a towel on the grass.
The sky turned indigo as they ate their fish and chips. He asked Bunny questions about school, what she planned to do after, but didn’t bother listening to her answers.
When it was pitch-black, he disappeared to the car just long enough to make her nervous; returned with a joint. She coughed as soon as she inhaled.
‘Never smoked funny pine before?’
‘Nay.’
Circling an arm around her shoulders, he showed her how. Soon, she was giggling.
‘It tingles.’ She clasped her head. ‘Wow.’
He asked if he could kiss her.
He’d forgotten how good kissing could be — just kissing a girl, for minutes at a time. Laying Bunny down on the towel, he knew she’d let him do anything he wanted.
‘I bes’ take you home.’ He touched her hair. ‘Before your dad takes my gools.’
‘Aye.’ Bunny sighed. ‘Bes’.’
He dropped her off at Cookies.
Three days later, he invited her over to play video games, and made her come three times.
‘You never had your pua licked before?’ he asked, kissing his way up from her crotch to her frantic heart.
Bunny giggled, shook her head.
He kissed her mouth, stroked the curly hairs down there. ‘You should shave your notties for next time. Easy access.’
Blushing, Bunny mumbled, ‘Okay.’
At work the next day, Joe said, ‘Saw you had a girl over.’
Jesse shrugged. ‘So?’
‘She got a name?’
‘Elena White.’ Jesse watched his dad’s face. ‘Rabbit’s girl.’
‘How old’s she now?’
‘Old enough.’
‘You sure about that?’
He tried to be gentle, but even so, Bunny bled. A lot.
‘Sorry,’ she kept apologising, even after she’d dressed. ‘Sorry about your sheets.’
‘It’s fine. Jesus.’
On the drive home, she was so quiet, he felt obliged to make her laugh. ‘Remember when they had to replace the street sign?’ he asked at Missionary Road. ‘Cos of the graffiti?’
Bunny shook her head.
He felt bad all over again. ‘I guess you’re too young to remember, eh.’
Bunny shrugged, smiled. ‘What was the graffiti?’
‘Someone wrote “position” under “Missionary”.’
‘That’s funny,’ Bunny said, but didn’t laugh.
Jesse avoided her for the rest of the week. But on his day off, Janey saddled him with his nieces, and they wanted lollies and chips.
‘Yorana!’ Bunny beamed at the girls, then him. ‘Are you babysitting?’
‘What does it look like.’ Jesse placed the junk food on the conveyor belt.
Blushing, Bunny looked at the girls. ‘They’re verly cute, eh.’
‘Some smokes, too.’
While Bunny was fetching his Camels, he checked out her arse. But the moment she turned to face him, he pretended she was invisible.
‘Is their dad … ?’ Her eyes drifted curiously to the girls’ dark skin.
‘What, Aboriginal?’ He intercepted her gaze. ‘You can say it.’
‘Sorry.’ She lowered her eyes, scanned his items. ‘I was just wondering.’
‘He’s in the slammer, too. In case you’re wondering.’
Bunny looked at him uncertainly. ‘Verly?’
‘Verly.
’ He took out his wallet. ‘Sixteen years. Unpaid parking ticket.’
‘Verly?’
‘Nay. Aggravated assault.’ He counted out the cash. ‘Cop came over to hassle him about this ticket, started fucking shit up near Cleo’s crib, “looking for drugs”.’
Bunny bagged his shopping. ‘Sorry, Jess.’
‘What for? My sheets?’
Her blush deepened. ‘That, too.’
‘Should’ve bought some stain-remover, eh.’
‘Sorry.’
‘Come over tonight. Make it up to me.’
Walking to the fridge in his jocks, Jesse asked, ‘Want a beer?’
Bunny hugged her naked legs. ‘I’m underage.’
‘You’re old enough for that.’ He nodded at their clothes on the floor. ‘You can have a beer.’
Bunny laughed meekly. ‘Okay, then.’
After her first sip, though, she cringed. ‘I bes’ be careful. Mum was an alcoholic.’
‘Yeah?’ He slouched down beside her on the couch. ‘Your dad has a type, eh.’
‘I guess so.’
Jesse put his arm around her shoulders. ‘You won’t get addicted. Alcoholics drink cos they have other problems.’
‘Paulina … ?’
He’d been waiting for her to mention Paulina’s name. Even so, his chest tightened.
‘Aye. She had problems.’
Bunny took another sip of beer. ‘She was loony.’
‘Aye.’
She traced the camel tattoo on his arm. ‘Was she your girlfriend?’
‘Who told you that? Rita?’
Bunny shrugged. ‘Everyone says it.’
‘She wasn’t my girlfriend.’ Jesse watched Bunny’s face flush with relief. ‘She sucked my dick one time. When she was still with your dad.’
Bunny winced. ‘Oh.’
He drank, let her sit with that for a while.
‘Just once?’ Bunny piped up, eventually.
‘Just once. Best blow-job of my life.’
His next day off, he got her to chuck a sickie. She answered the door in her PJs, black-and-white cat twining around her ankles.
‘Jesus.’ Jesse gaped, stepping into the hallway. ‘This place is a palace.’
‘Aye.’ Bunny picked up the cat. ‘Say hello, Anastasia!’
‘Jesus.’ Jesse absently scratched the cat behind her ears. ‘You inheriting all this when your old man dies?’
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