Julia puts the last of the washing up away and waits for a gap in the conversation. ‘I’m just going to pop into town.’ To escape, she thinks. She tries to say it as fast as possible, hoping they won’t hear her, and won’t even miss her when she’s gone. But they all look up.
‘I’ll grab my purse,’ Barbara says. ‘I wouldn’t mind having a look around.’
‘I wanna go too,’ Oscar says.
‘Come on then.’ Bryant gets to his feet. ‘We’ll all go. It will be fun.’
They wait outside the Forty-Four Flavours Ice Creamery while Bryant tries to get the kids to decide what flavour they want.
‘Is there no proper supermarket here?’ Barbara asks. ‘A Coles or Safeway?’
‘No. There’s an independent supermarket at the end of the mall and it sells all these weird products I’ve never seen before.’
This place is a dump, Julia thinks. She pretends to be Barbara and views it again for the first time. Rows of brick shops, all dirt-brown, low verandas with the occasional sun-bleached awning snapping in the wind. There is nothing of character here; a town built in the fifties and then renovated in the seventies, devoid of charm, bleaching itself in the sun. The only good thing (and for some inexplicable reason she chooses not to mention this) is her sanctuary; Joe’s precious café, hiding out of sight at the far end of the mall, tucked away like a members-only club.
‘It will cost you a fortune in food bills,’ Barbara says, cupping her hand over her eyes, squinting. ‘Unless you can learn to grow a few vegetables and plant some fruit trees.’
‘Bryant was planning to concrete the back garden.’
‘Really?’ Barbara looks as though she’s been slapped. ‘All of it? There must be quarter of an acre. It will cost a fortune.’
‘It’s easier than mowing. We can just hose it down occasionally.’
‘What about water restrictions?’
Julia has to suppress a giggle. She feels near-delirious with the strain of being nice, although perhaps it’s sunstroke.
‘I’ll have a talk to him later,’ Barbara says firmly. ‘The kids need some place they can kick a footy around.’
Julia doesn’t see Tom until he is almost in front of her.
He ignores Barbara and stares directly into Julia’s eyes. ‘Sorry, I was so wet the other day,’ he says. ‘I hope I didn’t make you wet too.’
Her heart becomes a wild creature in her chest. ‘Oh God. Tom.’
She can sense Barbara’s eyebrows ascending, her back stiffening with disapproval at this tall, tumbled-hair man.
Julia laughs, nervously trying to cover her embarrassment. She looks to the ice-cream shop where her children are peering through the glass counter at all the flavours. ‘I might go and see if Bryant needs a hand …’
But Barbara grabs her arm. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce us, Julia?’ There is a definite edge to her voice now.
‘Yes. Of course. Sorry.’ Julia swallows. ‘Tom, this is Bryant’s motherin-law. Sorry, I mean my motherin-law and her name is Barbara. And this is … Tom.’
‘And Tom is …?’ Barbara asks.
‘Oh, Tom? Tom.’ She swallows. ‘Tom is one of Bryant’s students.’
Tom
We sit on the only shady bench in the mall, waiting for Bryant and the kids to come out of the ice-cream parlour, while this massive lady interrogates me. She is large in every sense of the word: her body is fat all over and the weight of it makes her face sweaty and red. Her energy is large and spreads out over the mall in purple splotches. And her opinions are large too; metal constructions in her head, like ancient factories puffing out beliefs, with no tolerance for anyone else’s viewpoint.
I really don’t want to talk to her, but for some reason she seems obsessed with me.
‘So, Tom, where do you live?’
I point my arm vaguely towards the south. ‘Up on the hill.’
‘On your own?’
‘With my parents.’
‘Have you always lived in Lovely?’
Her questions are driving me crazy. She is like a fly at a barbeque, buzzing in my ear, commanding my attention, when all I want to do is be silent and look at Julia and let the rest of the world be evaporated by the sun, which is making the fat lady squint at me.
‘And what do you do for a living?’
Julia comes to my rescue. ‘He runs the dairy farm, Barbara; you know the one, just out of town.’
Bryant and the kids walk over to the benches and Bryant distributes the ice-creams. ‘Too many flavours to choose from I’m afraid. It took them ages to decide.’
The little boy, Oscar, frowns at his cone and holds it on an angle that threatens to topple the lot. ‘I’ve changed my mind,’ he says. ‘I really wanted the rainbow-flavoured one.’
‘You’ll lose the ones you’ve got if you don’t watch out,’ the fat lady says.
I’m grateful that she is distracted momentarily and I return my gaze to Julia who has been watching me.
But the fat lady isn’t finished yet. ‘So, Tom.’ She takes a massive bite of her ice-cream. ‘Are you going to university?’
I laugh. ‘No, I left school ages ago. I’m twenty-six. Today, in fact.’
Julia stares at me, oddly.
‘What?’ I mouth the word at her.
She shakes her head, but doesn’t answer.
The fat lady lowers her ice-cream for a moment, thinking. ‘Didn’t you turn twenty-six last month, Julia?’
She nods.
‘So we’re the same age then.’ The thought makes me extremely happy. I turn to Bryant. ‘How old are you?’
‘A fair bit older than that, mate.’
And for some reason that makes me even happier.
The fat lady reaches over to rub her son on the forehead. ‘But he’ll always be my baby.’
Bryant winks at me. ‘Are you having a birthday party or anything, Tom, or some friends around?’
‘Nope, but Joe made a cake for me this morning. And I got a card, of course.’
‘Is anyone helping you celebrate?’ Julia leans forward and rests her chin in her hands.
‘I doubt it.’
‘These days everyone goes crazy,’ the fat lady says. ‘One of the little girls down the road from me had a party and the parents had it fully catered, seafood and champagne and all. I mean, really, for a five-year-old’s birthday. There were clowns out on the road to organise the parking. One of those jumping castles. Pony rides …’ She stops to force more ice-cream into her mouth. ‘Half the parents got drunk and did these horrible renditions of songs on the poor kid’s karaoke set that the whole street could hear, or ran around on the beach half naked, with streamers and balloons tied to them. It was supposed to be a party for the little girl, but I bet the grown-ups had a lot more fun.’
‘We’ll have a party tonight,’ Bryant says, wiping his fingers against a paper serviette. ‘I’ll invite a few people around and help you celebrate. I’ll get the barbeque going and see if Summer’s husband can give us a discount on the meat. Mum, you were always good at parties; do you think you could organise some decorations?’
She says she supposes she can but doesn’t look happy about it.
‘It’s settled then.’ Bryant gives me a big grin. ‘Let’s say kick off at seven o’clock. How does that sound?’
It sounds too good to be true. How can my life be hell one moment and so brilliant the next? ‘Thanks,’ I say. And Bryant reaches over and hits me on the back.
I watch Julia wipe the little girl’s mouth with a tissue. She tries to do the boy too, but he runs away and hides behind one of the dead trees in the mall.
‘Oscar, come back here. We’re going soon.’
The fat woman groans like a cow. ‘Yes, well, I must say I’ve seen enough of the town centre, if that’s what you call it. And, Bryant, what’s this I hear about you wanting to concrete your back garden?’
At once, Julia gets to her feet and walks over to the little boy.
&
nbsp; I follow.
‘This party should be fun,’ I say, behind her.
She’s trying, unsuccessfully, to wipe the ice-cream off her son’s chin. Julia turns to face me, shielding her eyes. ‘Yes, I’m sure it will be. Bryant loves giving parties.’
‘And I love you.’
The words punch the air out of the sky. We stare at each other. Oscar’s mouth drops open.
Immediately, I shrink with embarrassment. That was exactly the kind of thing I was scared of saying.
‘You can’t love my mummy,’ the boy says, stamping his foot. ‘Only my daddy can.’
‘He doesn’t mean the way daddy loves me, darling. He means like people love … um, say, ice-cream.’ She frowns. ‘Or maybe not.’
‘Dad!’ the boy yells.
Bryant jogs over. ‘What’s up, buddy?’
‘I think Mummy’s a stupid mummy,’ he says.
‘You and me both, mate.’ He laughs at Julia’s expression. ‘I’m joking, I’m joking.’ He arranges his face into a stern mask, but even the boy can see he is pretending. ‘You are not to say mean things about Mummy, understand?’
The boy crosses his arms and pouts further.
‘And, we’re having a party soon. We have to go and get some decorations and Grandma will need your help.’ Bryant reaches out his hand and the little boy takes it. ‘That’s the way.’
They walk back towards the fat lady on the bench.
Once they’re out of earshot I apologise. ‘I really don’t know why I said that.’
‘That’s okay.’
There is a whisper of hair over one of Julia’s eyes and I have to squeeze my hands into fists so I don’t lift it out of the way and brush it behind her ear.
‘See you later tonight, Tom.’ She gives me a smile, and then walks over to join the rest of her family.
‘Seven o’clock,’ Bryant calls out. His voice echoes across the mall, so that Mrs Bell and Tony Ricci and two school kids turn to look at him.
I wave goodbye to them. And the hollow part of my chest is filled with warmth and an unfamiliar feeling of expectation.
A birthday party. Just for me.
Julia
‘Do you really think this is a good idea?’ Julia lowers the balloon from her mouth, and gives her head a moment to recover.
‘Of course.’ Bryant has just got off the phone and has managed to gather eleven people together for tonight, mostly newcomers to town, people who probably miss having a social life. ‘You’ll be able to meet Charlie, Summer’s husband. He’s a nice guy, apparently.’
‘That Tom fellow is very good-looking,’ says Barbara. ‘Wouldn’t you say, Julia?’
‘In a way.’
‘I think he’s got a thing for you. Pass me that drawing pin, Oscar. That’s a good boy. Be careful.’ Barbara’s words have stopped Julia’s breath. ‘I mean did you see the way he stared at you? You must have noticed.’
The balloon is deflating in Julia’s hand. ‘No, I can’t say I did. He’s just intense; he looks at everyone that way.’
‘Yes, he is rather intense, Mum.’ Bryant replaces the phone in its cradle. ‘His eyes are quite remarkable, it’s as though he can look right through you into your soul. I swear I often feel a shiver up my spine in his presence.’ He clears his throat and avoids Julia’s eyes. ‘Anyway …’
Barbara shrugs and gets down off the chair. ‘Well, I think it’s ridiculous to be throwing a party for someone you barely know.’
‘More streamers,’ Oscar says.
Barbara pulls him into a sudden fierce hug. ‘Ooh, I could eat you all up.’ She rocks him backwards and forwards. Oscar is struggling, but the look on his face gives away how much he enjoys his grandmother’s attention. Amber is giggling at the sight.
‘Come on you two,’ Barbara says. ‘Let’s go and put some balloons up in the lounge room.’
Julia waits until her motherin-law and the children have left the room and then she asks Bryant if he finds Tom attractive.
One side of his mouth twitches. ‘Attractive? I don’t know. He’s a beautiful soul.’
‘I’m not talking about his soul.’
Bryant’s face is colouring. ‘Oh, I can see where you’re going with this, Julia. I can see the way your mind works; always suspicious, always casting around for a negative view on life. Do I want to have sex with him? Is that what you’re asking?’ His voice is a whisper but he is spitting. ‘No, I don’t want to have sex with him.’
She is about to brush all this aside and surrender when there is a frizz of anger in her chest. Damn it, she’s the one that should be angry, not Bryant. ‘Yes, I do wonder. Given your history.’
‘And do you think you could have found a better time to discuss this? Or did you purposely wait until my mother was staying with us? Okay, so I appreciate the beauty in all things, so I can connect with a soul no matter what external form it may take; I suppose that makes me some kind of monster, does it? I guess I should harden my heart and love conditionally, is that what you want?’
‘Craig was my best friend.’ Julia puts the empty balloon on the table and leans forward. ‘And you’ve never allowed me to discuss it before.’
‘I don’t want to discuss it now either.’ Bryant stares out of the back window for a moment. Is he remembering? His face is impossible to read. He gets to his feet, without looking at her. ‘The incident with Craig is in the past,’ he says. ‘Leave it there.’ And he walks out of the room.
But she can’t let it go. It nags at her. She’s forgiven Craig, because it was part of his personality — outrageous, demonstrative, always flirting with policemen, tradies and baristas, it didn’t matter if they were gay or straight, they were all fair game.
But Bryant. That was different. He was mature and responsible. He was married, with a child. He was supposed to be faithful to her.
Ironically, it was Craig who had introduced her to Bryant. You have to meet this guy, Julia. He’s a fair bit older than you and he’s into all of this flaky New Age shit. But he drives a nice car and I think you two would really hit it off.
They did. A clichéd case of opposites attracting. They’d been inseparable almost immediately; meeting each day for lunch, moving in together after a week, sharing their histories late at night in each other’s arms. Three months later, with champagne flowing, they had announced their engagement, and pregnancy.
Craig was overjoyed at their union.
In hindsight, trusting Craig was probably a mistake.
She had discovered them in the kitchen one afternoon, two months after Amber’s birth, kissing with a furious kind of passion that Bryant had never shown towards her. It had taken her a moment to realise what she was seeing. The intelligent part of her brain, the bit that was supposed to say—this isn’t right, married men aren’t supposed to do this — had been numb with shock. She had stood there like a shop mannequin, staring at them, forgetting why she came into the kitchen in the first place.
Craig had pressed his hand against his mouth, a smile spreading behind his fingers, like he knew he was being a naughty boy. Bryant blushed scarlet, and then turned away. She had picked up a hand towel, checked to see that Oscar was still asleep, then walked back into the bedroom and reattached Amber to her breast, allowing her mind to blur.
Later that day, Bryant had given her a lecture about past-life connections and how the soul was sexless and could see past the external camouflages of age, gender and race. Babbling, incomprehensible rubbish, really. Craig made a nimble exit from their lives, reportedly hooking up with an older gent, a patron of the arts, who gave him a first-class tour of the Greek islands.
And then nothing more was allowed to be said.
‘Okay everyone,’ Bryant says. ‘I know Tom already knows about this party, but I thought it would be fun if we make it a surprise. Sharnie and Bob, stand in the hallway with Phillip and Jacqui. Summer, you and Charlie behind the sofa. Sean and Carole, you could hide behind the door, or in the hallway, with Sharnie, i
f you prefer.’
A tentative knock on the door has everyone giggling, running for cover and bumping into each other.
‘You answer it.’ Bryant points at Julia from his position behind the armchair.
She shakes her head and moves further behind the door to the kitchen.
Bryant is forced to go to the door himself. ‘Oh, hello there,’ he says, feigning surprise. ‘Can I help you?’
Julia cringes. Poor Tom, she can hear him on the other side of the door, saying he thought there was a party on here tonight.
Bryant says, ‘Oh, I don’t know anything about that, Tom, but do come inside anyway.’
There is a chorus of happy birthday, surprise! and laughter. Someone is blowing into a party whistle.
Julia heads towards the kitchen to top up her wine.
Tom
Beer. It tastes disgusting, but every time I try to get rid of a bottle, Bryant hands me another one. I take small sips and pretend it is lemonade.
Julia is talking to Charlie; he is putting on his best performance for her, telling little stories about the slaughter house, laughing and miming. She looks pale and tired and more than once has lifted her eyes to mine. Is she trying to send me a message? Does she need rescuing?
I move a couple of feet closer and try to think of a way to get her free. But the fat woman steps into my path.
‘Are you having a nice time, Tom?’ Her lipstick is sparkly orange and half of it is smeared on her front teeth. It makes me want to run my tongue along my own teeth to be sure they’re clean. ‘Are any of your own friends coming tonight?’
I take a sip of my beer. ‘I don’t think so.’ Making a tally in my head, I count Joe, Bruno and Anthony as my friends, the kindest men in town, but I don’t know if they have been invited to this party. Another sip. This stuff reminds me of something horrible.
She gives me a big smile. ‘Do you have many friends, Tom?’
‘Not really.’ I can’t see Julia anymore. Charlie and the fat lady are blocking her. I try and bend to one side, but the fat lady moves too.
‘Most people have lots of friends, Tom.’
Like a vampire she is sucking up all the air between us and I can feel my lungs straining to expand. Her sound is like a train stopping. She’s one of those people who can’t digest their own energy and needs to take it from other people. She’s making me tired.
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