by C. J. Duggan
Men-drinking-taking-advantage-teenage-pregnancy-game-over! My parents were prone to jumping to this conclusion. I think they were overrating my effect on the opposite sex.
So I played it down and soon she was partially satisfied, got bored and gave up, leaving me with a sceptical, wary ‘I’m-not-thoroughly-convinced’ look on her face as she put table seven’s croissant in the toaster.
As November merged into December, Christmas-party season was well underway and the Rose Café had been booked for the local doctor’s surgery shindig on Friday. Mum and Dad had pleaded for me to help and said they would make it financially worth my while so I couldn’t exactly say no. Besides, I knew how busy it was and rushed off their feet they were. It’s not like I wasn’t going to get anything out of it: it was money and, not to mention, sure to score me some brownie points with the olds.
And it was just one night; what’s one night in the grand scheme of things? I mentally chided myself any time my heart ached about not seeing Toby. I had to stop myself from thinking that way. He didn’t belong to me; he was well and truly Angela’s.
Although I could have sworn there were times when something passed between us – looks, touches, even the gaps in conversation.
When we sat in his car at the Point that night, I thought that maybe, just maybe, for the smallest of moments that he felt what I felt.
Argh! I was thinking about Toby again! Maybe a night away from the Onslow social scene would do me some good. Let them converge on the hotel without me.
I knew Ellie would be there because when she called me she whinged and whined incessantly about the fact I had to work.
“But it’s Friday.” The horrified words travelled through the phone receiver.
“I know, but I promised.”
I then used my skills of deflection and switched the subject to Stan. Worked like a charm. Apparently, they were going to the hotel to hang out, and then the group would head up to the Point. Relief washed over me, because witnessing Angela and Toby together was definitely not my idea of a good time.
“Come on, Tess, at least come to the Point with us after, you’ll be finished by then, surely.”
No. No. I would take a stand. One night off. Surely I could manage that.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ellie wouldn’t exactly miss me in the company of Stan; no one else really existed in their sickeningly loved-up little world.
I was tired of seeing their constant displays of public affection, the kissing and cuddling and hand holding. Tired and envious of it. There were no emails from Ellie with updates of Friday night shenanigans when I checked on Saturday morning; no text messages, either. Yep, Ellie was off the radar alright. She had a boyfriend. It wasn’t official as such, yet, but I knew the pattern: when Ellie was unreachable, she was happily lost in Boyfriend Land. Someone who I knew was definitely not in Girlfriend Land (more so Nana Land), was Adam. He was proving to be an excellent pen pal.
To: tessmcgee
Kill me now! Seriously!
I am set to go on a shopping expedition to Central Plaza tomorrow with Nan and Aunty Claire. You know what that means? Hours spent at Millers, Lincraft, Spotlight, oohing and aahing over the feel of fabric. And gossiping over gluten free cake, over how Mum should be more independent and how she’s getting too skinny on her latest Weight Watchers obsession. And then I’ll be forced to have a haircut that I don’t need at one of those ‘Just Cuts’ sweat shops. I am predicting at least 8 hours of hell. But I don’t need to complain. How is working for the parentals? I must say I’m not sure how I feel about all this work caper.
OMG Tess. Are you changing?? Remember you have to let me know.
Sender: Adam I can jump puddles Henderson
To: Adam I can jump puddles Henderson
I have changed! I am rolling in the $$ now, so I can go to large shopping complexes and ooh and ahh over the feel of fabrics.
Do you want to come? Ohh that’s right…you’re ‘busy’.
Shame you can’t come home this weekend. There is a Cricket Club disco in the beer garden tonight. (So I have been told via a blunt voice message from your brother) Which means Chris and Uncle Eric will be running around stressed and snappy as they try and set things up. Oh yay!
I saw your mum the other day, she hasn’t lost too much weight she looks fantastic! Do I sense a bit of the green eyed monster in Aunty Claire? (Don’t repeat that)
Sender: tessmcgee
To: tessmcgee
I am so going to repeat that.
Sender: Adam I can jump puddles Henderson
I smiled to myself, shook my head and logged off. I was not relishing the thought of this afternoon’s shift back at the Onslow. I predicted chaos. Chris would be in a foul mood, snapping at everyone, and I’d be exposed to plumber’s crack from Uncle Eric as, ciggie hanging from his mouth, he tried to connect extension cords. Melba would be muttering under her breath and Rosanna wigging out over bookings. It would be like Irish weekend, but worse.
On the plus side, I had never felt so rich. Mum and Dad had given me a rather healthy pay packet which I’d sat on my bed and counted over and over again. After finding out about the disco, I thought, what better way to treat the hard-working woman in me than with a shopping spree.
I hitched a ride into town with Mum, and I couldn’t help but stare at Matthew & Son as we drove by. The lights were off and the garage doors were pulled down. I didn’t have much time before I had to get ready for work, but managed to stock up on moisturiser, lip balm, some make-up and Impulse spray. I made a quick dash to Carter’s to finally buy that top I’d been mooning over all summer. The top I had tried on a hundred times. The top I loved, the top that was GONE.
I frantically flicked through the racks; maybe someone moved it? No-no-no. I asked the peroxided, bubblegum-chewing shop assistant if there was another one in stock. She shrugged. “Sorry hon. What’s there is there, must have sold it.”
I trudged slowly out of the shop. I would not cry over a top.
I would, however, be severely depressed and moody for the rest of the day. My heart wasn’t into shopping anymore and I slumped myself back to the car for Mum to take me home. Ellie had texted me to say that she was going to be late and not to wait for her. She was no doubt just crawling out of bed after a late night rendezvous with Stan.
Whatever.
When Mum dropped me at work, it was exactly as I’d expected: chaos. But it was good chaos. I walked through the beer garden entrance expecting to find nothing good. Instead, I was amazed. The dance floor was prepped, the DJ station in place and a man was working on the lighting. There was no shouting, or bum crack, it all looked rather under control.
I swooped down on some dirty dishes (probably from Uncle Eric’s breakfast) and made my way to the kitchen.
Amy was sitting on the bench swinging her legs, seemingly in a good mood. Until she saw me. Her smile vanished, and she glared at me in her usual death stare I’d grown accustomed to. Talk about holding a grudge. Beside her, Melba peeled carrots and Chris leaned casually against the bench, his hip cocked and arms crossed. Rosanna was flailing around the kitchen in her usual flurry of insanity.
“I mean it, Chris, this kitchen is getting shut down at nine pm sharp! My kid’s sitter charges like an asshole a minute after that, and I will not be taking a single order after nine.”
I wasn’t completely sure what an asshole charged, but it made me smile. I did find Rosannaisms quite funny when they weren’t directed at me.
I took the initiative of filling the sink up and making a start on the mess from breakfast. Plus, I didn’t mind making Amy look bad; that was a small part of it.
“Don’t stress, Rosanna, I’ve got it. Nine sharp,” Chris repeated.
“Anyway, I think it’s only fair, we want to go to the disco, too, you know,” Amy piped up.
Chris raised his eyebrows and turned to Melba. “Is that right, Melba? You hanging to bust a move on the dance floor tonight, too?”
<
br /> Melba just scoffed and brushed away his words. “Oh, you.”
“How about this? Kitchen shutdown at nine sharp and as long as things are shipshape here, the rest of you can knock off at ten.”
I spun around. “Serious? Ten?”
Chris turned as if noticing me for the first time. “Just this once.”
“Hells, yeah!” Amy screamed and swung her legs more rapidly.
“But this kitchen has to be spotless,” Chris added before leaving.
“Looks like you will be busting a move after all tonight, Melbs,” Rosanna teased. “Where’s my drink, chook? I’m thirsty like a son of a bitch.”
Amy passed Rosanna a pot of soda water which she drained in three giant gulps.
“Now, spill! Right from the start, this is some good shit.” Rosanna leaned forward, her full attention directed at Amy, kitchen work forgotten now that she had negotiated her nine pm knock off. She seemed more relaxed, for now. Was that just soda water?
“What have I told you two about gossiping?” Melba said with exasperation.
Rosannna waved her off. “Oh, shush. You love it, go on, chook.”
Chook’s (or rather, Amy’s) beady eyes swept around the kitchen, as if she was some kind of P.I, before settling into the gossip she was about to unload. Such an attention seeker, I thought, as I dipped the wok into the sink to soak.
“Okay, so I wasn’t allowed to stay out to watch the fireworks (which was so unfair) and my friends were having a party at McLean’s Beach, and I couldn’t go because my dad’s a dick and he thinks I’m, like, going to get pregnant and drink and shit.”
I raised my brows as I set into scrubbing a pot. It sounded familiar, but, wow, she had a mouth on her. Either this was how fifteen-year-olds talked now, or Amy had been hanging out with Rosanna for too long.
“Anyway, I had to wait for Dad to go to sleep which took forever, because he never really settles until he knows everything is locked down. So, no worries, I knew the party wouldn’t be cranking up ’til later, anyway. So it was real late when I climbed out onto the fire escape for my grand exit.”
“I don’t know if I should be hearing this.” Melba frowned.
“Anyway … that’s when I heard the voices under the stairs. I was like, shit!, and ducked like a ninja. And that’s when I saw movement. Two shadows talking under the stairs. I thought, ooh, gross, slobbery drunks pashing in the beer garden. So I had to get a better look, right?”
“Of course.” Rosanna nodded vigorously, hanging on every word. And then I noticed – so was I. I had been working on the same plate for the last five minutes.
“But they weren’t pashing, they were sitting on the bottom steps, and one of them – the girl – was crying … like really crying, while the boy rubbed her back and then she looked up at him and was like, why? Why would he do that? And I was like, holy shit, I know who that is.”
“Who?” Rosanna, Melba and I all asked at once.
And before Amy could deliver her climactic line, Ellie burst into the kitchen.
“Toby broke up with Angela!”
The plate slipped out of my hands and smashed into a million pieces. Ellie had solely addressed this to me with an elated spark in her eyes.
Everyone looked at me. At the china shards at my feet. At Ellie, then back to me, as if the information should have meant something to me.
Which it did.
Oh my God, it did.
Amy gave Ellie a pissy look. “You ruined my story.”
“Sorry.”
“So it was Angela?” Rosanna asked. “Under the stairs?”
“Yeah, and Chris,” Amy continued. Apparently, the reason why Toby was moody and fidgety on the night of the Summer Show was not because he was taking Angela up to the Falls for some canoodling. He was taking her to the Falls to break up with her.
Angela had then relayed it all to Chris in between sobs in the wee hours of the morning. She had begged Chris, asking if he had known about it and why Toby would have wanted to break up with her.
“What did Chris say?” Melba was hooked like the rest of us.
Amy shrugged. “Some big speech about people growing apart and things happening for a reason. Deep shit. He was real careful not to be specific and break the bro code.”
“The bro code?” I asked.
“Yeah. He would have totally known why Toby dumped Angela. Guys do talk. At least those ones do. Not to mention Chris is like David Bowie in that Labyrinth movie. That guy is all seeing, all knowing. Has a crystal ball or something. What he doesn’t know doesn’t exist. Lurks and perks of the profession I guess.”
“Well, no wonder he was Angela’s first point of call then,” Rosanna mused.
“Your turn. What do you know?” Amy snapped at Ellie.
“Stan told me. It was an accident. I asked him who was coming to the disco tonight, and when I name dropped Toby and Angela, he had this funny look on his face; it was enough to tell me something was up. So I made him spill.”
Amy gasped. “You broke the bro code?”
Ellie straightened with pride. “Guess I did.”
With each placing of individual cutlery on the table, it triggered the same thing over and over in my mind.
Toby broke up with Angela – Toby broke up with Angela.
Those headlights I had watched with great interest through the back window of Stan’s car, the indication to the Falls that all but broke my heart and changed everything. The text message to Stan about bringing in my bike the next day. God, he sent that after he’d broken up with Angela.
My head spun. Toby had been single when I went to the shop, when we teased each other about song choices, when he wiped grease on my cheek. He did seem more relaxed than the night before. But I would never have guessed why.
Ellie found out from Stan that the Onslow Boys, including Toby, would be in attendance tonight, but Angela had gone away for a girls’/healing weekend.
Ellie clicked her fingers in front of my face, snapping me out of my own frazzled thoughts.
She giggled. “I know what you’re thinking about,” she sing-songed.
I was speechless, absolutely at a loss, as I fumbled my way through the silverware.
“You know, breaking the bro code is really quite simple.” She leaned forward and whispered, “You just threaten to hold off on the goods!”
“Ew! Ellie, too much information, thanks.”
“I’m telling you, works like a charm.” She winked. “I’ll get some dirt before tonight, just giving you the heads up.”
Ellie was loving this, but I was uneasy.
Obviously, the entire saga was intended to be hush-hush. And I didn’t want Ellie to be too inquisitive in case Stan became suspicious.
So, Toby was a free man; that didn’t change things. Maybe he wanted to be single? To be free of women, to hang with the boys.
No, it didn’t change anything. I would still just be Tess. The same dorky girl getting her bike fixed.
Then why was it that during the break before the dinner shift I checked my messages every two seconds in case Ellie had an update? And I got ready three hours before my shift began, paying particular attention to every detail, ensuring everything was perfect.
I was in the shower, exfoliating, shaving, conditioning up a storm when I heard my bedroom door open.
“I’m just going to the cafe, hon; have fun at work and don’t break a leg on the dance floor,” my mum yelled out.
My mouth was full of toothpaste as I paused brushing.
“Bwye Murm.” I heard my bedroom door close.
In a burst of steam, like a magician entering the stage, I exited the bathroom. Hair in a turbanesque twist on my head, towel wrapped around me, I froze in the doorway thinking perhaps I was seeing a mirage, that my mind was heat affected from the shower, because hooked on my mirror was the light mint top I had dreamed about for all eternity, the one that had been sold. I walked over to it, touching the soft, silky fabric to ensure it wasn’t
a dream. A note was clipped to the hanger.
To our hard-working daughter.
We are so proud of you.
Thanks for all your wonderful help and for being an utter joy.
Lots of Love Mum and Dad. x
P.S. Ellie helped us pick this out.
My chin trembled as I picked up the top, the top I would definitely be wearing tonight.
Hours later there was a knock at the front door. I knew it would be Ellie trying to catch me out undressed, unprepared. She loved fussing over me before any big event, to do my hair and dress me up like a life-sized Barbie doll. No luck this time. I was ready, dressed and primed to go when I opened the door.
“Tess!”
“I know, amazing, right? I’m actually ready.” I circled with pride.
She beamed at me. “You look beautiful.”
I grabbed her in a bear hug. “Thanks to you I do.”
Ellie laughed. “You could wear a hessian bag and you would still be gorgeous.”
“Well, you’re my best friend, you’re supposed to say things like that.”
Ellie walked in, a smile stretched across her face.
“Firstly – no, I don’t have to say things like that, and secondly – I’m not the only one who thinks you’re beautiful.” She wiggled her brows at me.
“W…what?”
Her smile broadened, barely containing her excitement. “I know something you don’t know,” she sing-songed tauntingly.
“Tell me.”
“Sorry, I have to honour the girlfriend code.”
“The girlfriend code?”
“Let’s just say, Stan confided in me something that I vowed I would never repeat.”
“That’s really touching.” I moved from the front door into the cool of the lounge, trying my best to disguise my rapid breathing as my heart hammered against my chest in anticipation.