The Newcomer
Page 29
She walked to the end of the road, heart thudding. Turned the corner. Climbed uphill. Stepped over a crust of old cow shit. A truck slid past, driven by a man in hi-vis. She didn’t know him, but he waved; she waved back. Okay.
She walked a bit more, expecting more cars, tense with expectation. No cars came. Sweat slicked her ribs, the space between her tits. The road ahead curved, dipped.
She’d done it many times before … but not today.
Once safely inside her flat, she inexplicably opened the fridge, fried an egg, and ate it.
The phone rang, soon after. Bazel, Mutineers’ Lodge.
‘Still good to come back Monday?’
‘Yeah,’ Paulina bluffed. ‘Monday.’
‘Not planning on hijacking a plane and flying it into St Bartholomew’s this weekend?’
‘Huh?’
‘Rabbit and Rita.’
‘Yeah. Nah. They deserve a long, sexless life together, hey.’
After hanging up, she closed the curtains, took off her exercise clothes, lay on the bed, and thought of the man in hi-vis, stopping his truck; licking her sweat, licking her cunt, fucking her good.
After, she went to the mirror and looked at her bruises. They’d gone yellow.
Then she tried on her Mutes’ uniform.
It still fit. Her body looked good in it, if she ignored her pallor, the burns on her arms. Her face, less good — but better than it had been. Makeup would help.
‘Okay,’ she told herself. ‘You’re okay.’
Then her face became too ugly to look at.
‘I’m gonna die alone.’
‘You’d die alone if you married that old man. Trust me, you’re better off.’
‘Yep. Going grey and can’t eat a cup of noodles without my mum’s help.’
‘I think you can. Wanna give it a go?’
‘Nah.’
‘Come on.’ When Paulina stayed quiet, Judy said decisively, ‘Here’s the plan: I’ll say bye for now, and you’ll try your best, then I’ll call back in half an hour for a debrief. Okay?’
Paulina tried not to think of worms, decaying white flesh, choking down the noodles. Or piss, drinking the yellowy-brown noodle water. She tried to ignore the freeze-dried bits of carrot, which looked like something already chewed and spewed up. She resisted the urge to spew and sat teary-eyed in front of the TV, sipping water till her mum rang back.
‘How’d it go?’
‘I ate like two-thirds.’
‘Two-thirds! Well done, Paulina!’
‘I wanna walk.’
‘You should rest. You have a big day tomorrow. Are you feeling up to it?’
‘I guess.’
‘Did you iron your uniform?’
‘Not yet.’
‘You should. And set your alarm, nice and early. Give yourself plenty of time.’
‘Yeah, yeah.’
‘Call me in the morning, if you need help.’
‘Yeah, yeah.’
‘I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.’
‘Yeah, yeah.’
Paulina watched TV for a bit. Then she laid out her clothes, set her alarm for five. Then, haunted by the clot of food in her stomach, she got her keys and drove: past Tiffany’s shrine, past Rabbit’s, all the way to the dark, empty place where the cliffs met the sea.
She closed her eyes and listened to the ringing in her ears.
‘You look … pale and interesting,’ Baz commented, when she swung past reception with a cartload of dirty linen.
‘Pale and boring, more like. I’m three weeks sober.’
Baz eyed the black sleeves under her uniform. ‘And here I was thinking you’d been shooting up.’
‘It’s cold today.’ Paulina tugged her sleeves. ‘I get cold easy.’
‘Whatever you say, Westpac. Just don’t let it happen again. This place hasn’t been the same without you.’
Hot-faced, Paulina pushed her cart to the laundry. When she emerged, Baz was handing a business card to a sprightly couple in visors and hiking boots. ‘Give The Car Kings a call, if those hills get too much for you. They do all our car rentals.’
‘Better off walking!’ Paulina jeered. ‘Car King loves ripping off tourists.’
On her way back from Mutes’, Paulina stopped at Jellyfish Fuel to fill her tank. She had her sunnies on, her back to the storefront; between the purr of her engine and the petrol fumes, she didn’t stand a chance.
‘Yorana, sweetheart.’ Car breezed past, sausage roll in hand. ‘How’s the Mazda?’
Petrol splashed her leg as she jolted away from the fuel tank. Flashing his big teeth, Car sauntered back to his car.
She looked for him again in her curtains after lights-out. He never appeared. Her skin grew scalding-hot; her heart rapid. Yorana, sweetheart. She pictured his teeth, his eyes, the petrol pump. Orgasms of fire. His fat, popping and sizzling like bacon.
‘I’m fat.’
‘We’ve been through this, darling. You’re not.’
‘Am so.’ Paulina glared at her belly button. ‘This’s the fattest I’ve ever been.’
‘You’ve just had dinner. You’re full. Someday, you’ll learn to like the feeling.’
‘Everything’s fat.’ A tear plopped onto Paulina’s chest. ‘Even my boobs are fat.’
Judy’s breath caught. ‘Paulina …’
‘Don’t.’
‘Just … after last time …’
‘I’m not a slut!’
‘I didn’t say you were.’ Judy levelled her voice. ‘That guy from the work crew? The married one?’
‘I dumped him ages ago!’
‘And you’ve been getting your periods?’
‘Yeah … no. I dunno.’
‘Think. Please.’
Paulina thought so hard, it brought tears to her eyes. ‘I dunno, okay? I’ve had a lot on my mind.’
‘I know it’s hard keeping track. But, try. Please.’
Paulina thought of Car’s fingers, wiping the cum off her face, thrusting inside her.
‘I’m such a slut.’
‘You’re single. No one’s judging. But if there’s any chance—’
Car’s fists, her ribs.
‘Nup. No way.’
‘No?’
‘No,’ Paulina repeated. ‘No way.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘I’m just fat, okay? You keep force-feeding me. What do you expect.’
‘Oh, Paulina.’ Judy sighed. ‘There’s nothing wrong with having food in your stomach. Try not to let it get to you. And try to keep better track, okay?’
After hanging up, Paulina pulled her diary from the drawer and flicked through the pages, racking her brain. C wants anal. Should I? asked her three-month-old handwriting, and her heart broke for how innocent the question seemed, now.
‘Any nausea?’ asked Dr Jimmy Greatorex, who was about as old as her dad would’ve been if he was still around.
‘Yeah. A bit.’
‘Vomiting?’
‘Nah, but I feel like it sometimes. Around food.’
Dr Jimmy glanced at her wrists. ‘You’re very thin.’
‘Always have been.’
‘How’s your diet?’
‘Vegetarian, mostly.’
He shook his grey head. ‘You need red meat at least once a week.’
‘I’d feel like a murderer, driving past all those cows every day.’
‘I’ll prescribe you some iron pills.’ He shook his head again and snuck a look at something else — her skin, her hair? ‘Multivitamins, too.’
‘Cheers.’
‘Can you hop on the scales?’
‘No offence, but can I just do the test already?’
‘It won’t take a second.’
&n
bsp; It took many seconds; he was so old and slow. Paulina avoided looking at the numbers, but she knew from the way Dr Jimmy was scrutinising them that he wasn’t happy.
‘How tall did you say you were?’
‘160 centimetres.’
‘You look taller.’
‘It’s my shoes. Can I do the test now?’
Frowning, Dr Jimmy passed her a cup and pointed her down the hall. She peed in furious fits and starts till it was full, then went to the mirror and slapped some colour into her cheeks, took down her hair and fluffed it up.
‘Three minutes.’ Dr Jimmy took the cup and indicated for her to sit again. ‘Mind if I listen to your heart?’
‘Yeah, alright.’
Paulina shivered as the stethoscope’s cool metal roamed her chest. ‘It’s very fast.’
‘I’m nervous.’
‘Take a few deep breaths, in and out.’
Paulina breathed.
‘It’s still fast.’ He took off his stethoscope. ‘Have you been under any stress lately?’
Paulina rolled her eyes. ‘Yeah, you could say that.’
‘Are you a smoker?’
‘Yeah. I know it’s bad, but I feel worse if I don’t.’
‘Anxious?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Drinking?’
‘Quit a few weeks ago.’
‘What prompted that?’
‘Just … healthy lifestyle choice.’
‘Any withdrawal symptoms?’
‘I dunno.’
‘Headaches, dizziness, mood swings, sweating, insomnia, fatigue … ?’
‘Yeah. All that. Specially the headaches.’
Dr Jimmy looked away as tears filled her eyes. ‘Mind if I check your blood pressure?’
‘Do what you gotta do, Doc.’
She was embarrassed of her thin arm, how thickly he had to swaddle it in Velcro before pumping. The band tightened, stinging like a mosquito bite.
‘Low,’ he proclaimed, unsurprised. Then, without warning, he got up and examined the stick in the cup. ‘Congratulations.’
‘Congratulations?’
‘It’s negative.’
‘Fuck.’ Paulina wiped her eyes. ‘Thank fuck.’
‘I’d be surprised if it came out positive, at your weight.’ He pursed his lips. ‘I’d recommend gaining a stone at least, if you ever plan on conceiving.’
‘Stone?’
‘Six or seven kilos … at least. Ten would be preferable.’
‘Yeah, nah.’ She reached for her handbag. ‘Thanks, Doc.’
‘It’d be beneficial, not only for fertility reasons. You’re at risk of developing osteoporosis, heart failure …’ He opened a drawer. ‘I have some pamphlets.’
‘S’alright. I’m right.’
The phone rang. Dr Jimmy gestured for her to wait. ‘I’m with a patient,’ he said into the receiver, then his brows jumped up; he switched to Fayrf’k.
Paulina inched toward the door.
‘Hold on.’ Dr Jimmy held up a hand again. ‘Ten minutes. Aye.’
He hung up, handed over the pamphlets.
‘Emergency?’ Paulina asked, stuffing them in her bag.
‘They need a coroner at King’s Pier.’ Dr Jimmy scrawled a prescription. ‘One of the blokes had a heart attack while unloading the supply ship. Dead on site.’
‘Geez!’ Paulina’s stomach butterflied. ‘Did they say who?’
‘Do you know The Car Kings?’
‘The Car King?’
‘That’s the one.’ Dr Jimmy handed over the prescription. ‘Take them with vitamin C, for maximum effectiveness. Don’t take them on an empty stomach.’
‘Cheers! You’re a lifesaver.’
‘No saving this one, I’m afraid. Forty-seven, overweight, and doing the work of a man half his age. It was an accident waiting to happen.’
‘When your time’s up, your time’s up!’ Paulina bustled to the door, grin spreading like wildfire. ‘Carpe diem, Doc!’
She laughed all the way to the bottle-O.
INCEST?
Just when it seemed like life was moving on, her voice came calling from beyond the grave.
‘J-Jesse? It’s Judy Novak. Paulina’s mum.’
Not Paulina. But she sounded like her. Fuck.
‘Sorry to call out of the blue. Just, I never told you: that CD you made for Paulina’s birthday? I very much enjoyed it. Well, maybe “enjoyed” isn’t the word. But I listened to it, many times …’
That CD. He’d forgotten all about it. Like he’d forgotten about giving Paulina’s mum his number, in a moment of desperation.
‘This probably sounds strange, but listening to that CD was the only way I could fall asleep, for a while … Anyway, I stopped that. I started keeping it in my car instead. To listen to after work, if I was having a bad day.’
Why was she telling him all this? In the middle of the night? It was like being dragged out of bed and crucified.
‘The thing is — it’s just … it was so silly of me. It’s been such a hot week. I didn’t think. It gets so hot in my car, and I left it too long and I guess — it got burned or something?’ She gave a small, disbelieving laugh. ‘I didn’t know that could happen. Did you?’
Jesse realised she was expecting an answer.
‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘I guess that could happen.’
Judy started weeping.
‘Sorry. It was so stupid of me. This is so stupid, calling you like this. I just — don’t know what to do …’
The more she cried, the more she sounded like Paulina. The more he felt the nails driving in.
‘Judy,’ he said, gently as he could — which wasn’t very gentle. ‘What do you want?’
She whimpered like a scolded child.
‘I … don’t expect you to make me another CD. If you could just help me remember the names of the songs and the order they’re in, I’ll do the rest.’
Jesse’s heart crumpled like a kicked mound of sand. He held the phone to his chest and made a shocked, strangled sound.
‘Sorry.’ He brought the phone back to his ear. ‘Give me a sec.’
On the other end of the line, Judy sobbed. Jesse placed the receiver down quickly, dashed to the bathroom and let it all out.
‘Jess?’ Areta rapped softly on the bathroom door. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yeah.’ He splashed his face. ‘Just … sick. I threw up.’
Areta was still in the hall when he came out, her eyes sleepy-squinty, hair wild, though it’d been in a tight, lacquered bun coming off the plane in her uniform that afternoon.
‘Is it gastro?’ she fretted. ‘I can’t fly if I get gastro.’
‘It’s fine.’ Jesse reached for her waist. ‘Go back to bed.’
‘I’m going to my hotel,’ she said, and elbowed past him to the bathroom.
Forlornly, Jesse crept back to the lounge, picked up the phone. ‘Are you still there?’
‘Yes,’ Judy said bashfully. ‘I thought you’d hung up.’
‘I would never hang up on you,’ Jesse promised. ‘You’re Paulina’s mum.’
One call. In the middle of the night. Then life would move on.
Except, somehow, he knew she wasn’t done with him. When he heard her voice two weeks later, he wasn’t surprised.
‘Sorry, it’s Judy again.’ She didn’t sound sorry, though. ‘I wanted to let you know it worked. The CD.’
‘Oh,’ Jesse mumbled. ‘Good.’
‘Jesse …’ She let his name linger. ‘Can I ask you something?’
‘Um. Yeah. Go ahead.’
Judy lowered her voice. ‘They’re all love songs, aren’t they? You were in love with her?’
‘No,’ he said, quick as a flinch. ‘I wasn’t.’
‘As a friend,’ Jesse admitted. ‘Yeah.’
‘You were more than friends! Anyone can see that. Why can’t you just be honest with me? I’m her mum; I have a right to know.’
‘I loved her as a friend; that’s all I can say.’ Jesse sighed. ‘No, I’ll say something else: she was my best friend. Okay?’
‘You were more than friends,’ Judy insisted. ‘You said yourself, you “hooked up”. You had sex, didn’t you?’
She was ruthless.
‘It was … complicated.’ He clutched his head. ‘Look: she turned me on. She knew it. But it was always complicated, with us. We were better as friends.’
‘So, you’re saying she was too complicated for you? She wasn’t worth the effort?’
‘I didn’t say that.’
‘You could have sex with her, but you couldn’t love her. You just used her, like all the rest of them. Didn’t you?’
‘No.’ His voice cracked. ‘That’s not how it was.’
‘Really? Then tell me. Because it seems to me, either you loved her and couldn’t admit it, or you took advantage of her. I’m right, aren’t I?’
‘You’re not right.’ Jesse’s eyes splintered. ‘You’re way off the mark, actually. You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, Ms Novak.’
‘Judy,’ she corrected him. ‘If you’re going to swear at me, call me “Judy”, and tell me the truth.’
‘What do you want me to tell you, Judy? That she got me drunk and sucked me off?’ Jesse lashed out. ‘Cos that’s what happened. She got me drunk then she put the moves on me. I didn’t want it; I had a girlfriend. She kept touching me. She took her clothes off. She was on her knees. I said “no”. She wouldn’t take “no” for an answer.’
For a moment, all Jesse could hear was the rush of his blood.
‘She would’ve been drunk, too,’ Judy reasoned. ‘To act like that.’
‘Yeah, she was drunk. She was always drunk. She was an alcoholic, Judy.’
Judy was briefly silent. Then the weeping started, soft but constant as a lapping sea.
‘Please don’t cry,’ Jesse said. ‘You’ll make me cry.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Judy sniffed. ‘But that makes me so sad.’
Jesse sighed. ‘Yeah. Me too.’