Mexican Kimono

by Billie Jones

  ‘I didn’t know you were lost, Sweet Cheeks,’ said Toff over my shoulder, making me jump in fright.

  ‘What’s this about two boyfriends?’ JJ asked.

  Oh, shit. See what happens when you forget all those social etiquette rules just to prove a point? Those unwritten rules were made for a reason.

  ‘Ah, well, I’m glad you’re both here,’ I said to JJ and Toff.

  ‘I’ve decided to live with you both thrice weekly and possibly Mum’s on Sundays if she’s not in the grip of some sociopathic, homicidal lunatic.’

  Kylie piped up, ‘You could stay with me Sundays. We could go back to our old routine of champagne and strawberries on the balcony for breakfast.’

  It seemed like someone was making quite an effort to become best friends again. ‘Sounds great, Kylie. What do you guys think?’

  JJ and Toff looked at each other with fire in their eyes, which I hoped was not of a romantic nature, before Toff turned to me. ‘Well, I’ve been meaning to speak to you about something anyway. I have, um, a friend who also wants to visit bi-weekly, so it works out fine for me. If you’re cool with that?’

  ‘Why wouldn’t I be? Your friends can visit whenever they like.’ I said.

  ‘Ah, I meant friend as in …’

  JJ cut Toff off abruptly, ‘I also have something to share. I have a friend called Pierre, a guy from Paris who needs a place thrice weekly.’

  ‘OK, so how about I stay at Tim’s Monday, Wednesday, Friday and JJ’s Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday? Does that work for everyone?’ They both looked at the ceiling and did that annoying rub the chin thing so we all knew they were lost in thought before finally agreeing.

  ‘It sounds good to me,’ said JJ.

  Toff agreed, ‘Me, too.’

  ‘Right, that’s settled then. Toff, tell Tim I’ll be there tomorrow.’

  ‘Sure thing, Sweet Cheeks. Tim told me to tell you he’s looking forward to it.’

  ‘Tell him to prove it by the quality of the champagne he buys.’

  ‘Of course.’ Toff strutted off in her six-inch silver heels. Kylie and Michael were tittering about something together. JJ and I held hands and smiled into each other’s eyes. I felt a lot better knowing I was keeping two people ecstatically happy and our compromise meant I didn’t have to break any hearts or choose between either of my first true loves.

  Toffany glanced at me from the bar and smiled. It would have been awkward if Timothy had to sit there and watch JJ and me together, but it didn’t perturb me at all when it was Toff. I knew she understood being a woman and all.

  My mobile rang and I excused myself to answer it, knowing I might be a while.

  ‘Mum, has Bob brainwashed you yet?’ I asked. ‘Made you sell your house and hand over your money?’

  ‘Darling! Don’t be so cruel. I am so glad you’re safe. I “saw” you’ve reversed the curse,’ she said.

  ‘Yes, the curse was easy to reverse.’

  ‘Now, don’t get angry with me, darling, but I’ve spoken to your father.’

  ‘What, phoned him on God’s mobile, did you?’

  ‘The sooner you admit to yourself and take responsibility for what you—’

  ‘Enough!’ I yelled.

  ‘Darling, he wants you to know—’

  ‘If you are going to continue with this madness, I’m going to hang up on you!’ My blood was boiling. I really didn’t know why she insisted on bringing up the past so much.

  ‘Oh, you are impossible, Samantha! He wants you to know—’

  I hung up and stormed back to the table. Infuriating woman, the old rush the word trick didn’t work on me, plus it was so socially unacceptable. A twinge of guilt rushed through me when I thought of the amount of times I’d hung upon Mum recently.

  Gemma and Leila walked in together and joined the others at the table.

  ‘Gemma,’ I said, as I sat down, ‘your hair looks great!’ I was being sincere, too. The blue had been replaced by hennaed red hair that sparkled under the lights. She looked like a real rock star with perfect hair and make-up.

  ‘Thanks, Kylie suggested it. And Leila is drafting a contract for me ’cause we’ve been signed by a recording company. So, it’s a new look and new attitude for me!’

  ‘Wow, when did all this happen?’ I asked.

  ‘Right after you left the nail salon. Turns out Hoang is a massive fan of ours and his sister knows a man that lives next door to a guy who works at Sony. I gave Hoang our demo and one thing led to another and here we are.’

  I tried very hard not to mention it, but I couldn’t help myself. ‘So are you still going to sleep on a bus when you tour?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ she looked at everyone triumphantly. ‘Do Good Charlotte do their tours by bus?’

  We all gasped and looked at Gemma. Kylie said, ‘You’re touring with Good Charlotte?’

  Gemma let out a squeal, ‘Yes! We’re the support act for their European tour! I don’t think we can bus it to Italy, somehow.’ In a flurry of excitement the table was almost knocked over in our rush to hug Gemma. Under normal circumstances I’d be feeling mightily jealous, but for some reason I wasn’t. I was happy for Gemma. All those years of smoky clubs and no sleep were finally paying off for her.

  ‘I’m going to call Charlize and Sharona. We need the whole gang here to celebrate!’ said Kylie, letting go of Michael’s hand briefly to call the girls.

  I sat back at the table with the group and took a huge gulp of my drink. My hands were quaking slightly. JJ looked at me quizzically. ‘Are you OK? Who was that on the phone?’

  ‘No one. It was no one. I’m fine. I think I need another drink or two, though.’ He signalled to the waiter for another round.

  I relaxed into JJ’s shoulder and closed my eyes. It had been a hectic day and, for once, I looked forward to having an early night. An early night with JJ.

  Ah, Goddamn it. ‘Hello,’ I answered my phone brusquely.

  There was a delay and then finally, ‘Samantha, it’s me. We need to discuss this.’

  ‘How the hell did you get my number?’ I demanded.

  ‘I can get anything in here, Samantha. It’s just a question of price.’

  ‘I see your morals haven’t changed, then.’

  ‘I did it for a reason, Sambo.’

  ‘Don’t call me that. I can’t see for what reason you’d curse your own daughter!’ I was outraged at this point and realised my friends were now staring at me, slightly horrified. I signalled all was well, to make them feel comfortable. See what I’m like in a crisis? See?

  ‘Sam, I guess I was a little angry at you. I just don’t understand why you told the police I faked my own death!’

  ‘Um, because you did fake your own death!’ Jesus, some people were seriously delusional. I was thinking I might have been a bit harsh labelling Toff that in the past. (Not that I’m a ‘labeller’.)

  ‘Yes, but you helped me fake my own death and took the cafe as payment for services rendered! Then you told the police I “washed money” for a living! Why? I just don’t understand, why?’

  ‘Mum said you laundered money. So? Washed/laundered, same same! I mean, was it really that dirty it needed to be cleaned?’

  Kylie would love this line of conversation.

  ‘Why would you dob your old man in, huh? Now I’m stuck in here until 2030! Didn’t you think of that, Sam?’

  I took a sip of my drink and felt slightly guilty that Dad wouldn’t be sampling any beverage of the alcoholic kind for another few decades. I guess if you put it that way it kind of seemed like I dobbed him in, but I’m almost certain it wasn’t like that at all.

  ‘Dad, they were onto you, OK? They had me sitting in one of those dusty confession rooms for like thirty-five minutes or something. You know how much I hate the smell of dust!’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, dust motes make you sneeze, so?’

  ‘So? As I said, they were totally onto your scheming, they mentioned something about rackets? Racketeering
or something? I said, well, that couldn’t be you, you hate sports with a passion unless there was money involved! I mean, am I right?’

  He sighed big and heavy, ‘Oh, God. Yeah, and then?’

  ‘Well … and then they good-cop, bad-copped me, you know, like they do on SVU? And did I mention it was so hot in that goddamned room? My hair started to frizz up and Kylie had only straightened it the day before and charged me like thirty dollars and all …’

  ‘Yes, and then?’

  ‘And then I was getting so thirsty and bad cop said I couldn’t have a drink until I told them where you were, and then I began to get one of those splitting headaches from the fluoro light …’

  ‘So you just ’fessed up?’ he said glumly. ‘That easily, in thirty-five minutes, you told them everything because you hate dust motes, it was hot, your hair was getting frizzy, you were thirsty, and had a headache from the light?’

  ‘Well, when you go emphasising it and putting it all simple like that it sounds bad, but at the time it was pretty intimidating! The bad cop actually had little bubbles of spit that kept bursting onto my face! It was disgusting! He had that sour stale coffee breath that made me want to vomit!’

  ‘Samantha, Samantha, Samantha.’

  ‘Oh, God, are you friggin’ cursing me again? I warn you, I’ll reverse it on your arse!’

  ‘I think you could do more damage to yourself than I ever could.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Never mind. I’ve got my answers now,’ his voice softened. ‘You can come visit me once in a while you know.’

  ‘Look, I’d love to an’ all, but I’ve told everyone you’re dead so, you know, it’s a little awkward,’ I looked around the bar and almost every set of eyes were pointed straight at me. I covered the phone and mouthed to the crowd, ‘He is dead,’ nodding my head to reassure them.

  ‘I understand, Sambo. You’ve got that entire set of unwritten rules and everything.’

  ‘Yeah, sure have.’

  ‘Do me a favour and put a bet on for your old man once in a while?’

  ‘Sure thing, Dad. But Mum can cure you of that bad habit, you know.’

  ‘Ah, your mother. God, I miss her. Looking forward to those conjugal visits I’m eligible for in five to seven.’

  Firstly, eww, then, oh dear. ‘Oh, Jesus. You haven’t heard about Mum and your brother, then?’

  ‘Of course I have, love. Your mother tells me everything. And Bob and I have a thrice decade agreement as soon as the conjugal visits are approved.’

  Oh, goddamn it, more abuse for my already assaulted ears.

  ‘Ah. Good for you guys, I guess.’

  ‘Mum told me you’re in a quandary with Tim and JJ.’

  ‘Nah, that’s all sorted. We also have an agreement. They have work commitments or something thrice weekly, so it’s panned out quite perfectly for all three of us. We’re going abroad for a while. I need to get away from the toxicity of this town.’

  He laughed his big barrel Daddy laugh, ‘Yeah, I saw a chain email about you this morning. I’m surprised you found out so quickly it was me who put the curse on you.’

  ‘What are you implying?’

  ‘Ah, just that. Look, never mind. I’m sure your heart’s in the right place most of the time; what with all those hair malfunctions and broken acrylic nail dramas, you can’t really be held responsible for your ever-apparent selfishness, can you?’

  ‘Is that why you did it, Dad? The curse, I mean.’

  ‘Yeah, Sambo. I thought if I took away all those petty things you place so much importance on, you’d start to realise what life is really about. You dobbed me in because you were worried about your hair, for God’s sake. I’m not there to keep an eye on you now, so I wanted you learn the fast way that all those shallow attributes mean nothing. Your friends will still love you, no matter what you look like, or where you live, or what you do for work.’

  ‘I’m not so sure about that.’

  ‘Are your friends with you now?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘See. You’re the only one who follows that demanding list of unwritten rules. Relax. Life is about more than hair and make-up, Sam. You’ve got a great group of friends. Learn to cherish them, they’ve stuck by you, even when they had every right not to.’

  Like a movie reel, all the horrible things I’d said or done to my friends flashed before me. He was right, I was lucky they were still in my life. How did I not see this before?

  ‘Hey, Dad, maybe I can manage a quick visit before we go away. Maybe put a few bets on the gee-gees for you?’

  ‘I’d love that, darl, really would.’

  ‘OK. Well, I guess I have a bit of apologising to do.’

  ‘Good girl.’

  ‘And I’m sorry I told the police everything.’

  ‘It’s OK, Sambo. They would have found out one way or another.’

  ‘Love you, Dad.’

  ‘Love you too, darl. Make sure you look after those boys.’

  I imagined myself going to the maximum-security prison to visit him. It was doable, I guess. If Kylie’s reputation survived her jail sentence, then I guess mine could handle a quick jail drop-in.

  I hung up the phone and placed it on the table, ignoring the room full of eyes boring in to me.

  I bet you can guess who asked first. The hairdresser, of course. ‘Samantha, was that your father on the phone?’ she lowered her voice dramatically. ‘I thought he died!’

  ‘Yeah,’ JJ piped up. ‘I distinctly remember going to the funeral.’ I know you’re thinking a fake funeral is somewhat morbid, but I needed closure – my dad had practically died, for all intents and purposes.

  ‘I have a little bit of explaining to do,’ I said as Charlize and Sharona walked into Toff’s.

  Kylie and Michael moved their chairs around to make room, and I gestured for Toff to come over to buy me some more time.

  ‘Well, ah, here’s the thing. It’s been somewhat of a trying week, as you all know I had the whole curse fiasco, which entailed quite a bit of damage to my person – I mean let’s face it – my hair is never going to be the same, no matter how much Kylie murmurs to it.’ There were knowing nods all around.

  ‘And I’m unemployed now, which is fine, since my job wasn’t so much on the corporate ladder, as on a stepladder really, you know to reach A4 paper, that kind of thing …’

  ‘I knew it!’ said Gemma. ‘The whole clothes shopping thing for your boss was a dead giveaway.’

  ‘And I’ve also been evicted from my apartment for not paying enough rent. So, to cut it short: I’m jobless, homeless and hairless.’

  ‘And your dad?’ said Leila, ‘is he dead or alive?’

  ‘Dad is alive and well, thanks for asking. He’s in a maximum security prison for money laundering and faking his own death. He’s due for release in 2030, but with good behaviour it’s likely he’ll be out much sooner.’

  ‘Wow! I mean, I’m glad he’s alive,’ said Sharona, ‘but your eulogy was pretty bloody heart-wrenching, Sam. And he was alive?’

  ‘Yeah, look, I’m really sorry, guys, not just for the funeral, but for everything. After reading through the chain email about all the things I’ve done to you all, I’m kind of surprised someone didn’t curse me sooner. I mean, you must have thought about it?’ All eyes were cast to the floor. Were they all looking for crumbs? Was OCD contagious? ‘Anyway, I hope to slowly get my life back together, and grow, develop as a person …’

  ‘Darling!’ The rest of my sentence was strangled out of me by an exuberant embrace from my mother. ‘You managed to heed my warning!’ She looked around the table, full of her ‘clients’, nodding and smiling at them. Everyone rose to hug her, she really was very popular among my peers.

  Toff walked over with a chair for Mum and squashed it beside me. Mum sat down, clasped my hand and turned it to look at my palm.

  ‘Now, I don’t want to alarm you,’ she said, ‘But the tea leaves…’

  Turn the
page for an exclusive extract from

  Snake Typhoon

  Chapter One

  The gossip is impossible to believe, but I pack my backpack and ready myself to head to the airport. My office had been abuzz with the news of some kind of freak storm heading towards the Northern Territory and, wait for it, raining snakes. So far there was no footage, and no one really believed it, but when a call came in from someone high up in a secret government department, my boss’s mouth pinched tight like he was sucking lemons and, finally, I got the nod. I’m new to the team, in an office full of zoologists all vying for the top spot. I hope I can prove I’ve got the nous to head a mission, even one as crazy as this purportedly is. At least they’re taking it seriously enough that I’m going to fly in a chopper from Brisbane to the Red Centre. The snakes wanted to see Uluru, apparently.

  Fresh out of university, and labelled the ‘new girl’, a few months in the field and I’m still the lackey. Getting flung from one snake-containment disaster to the next, to bring the crew coffee. It’s not fair, but I don’t complain. Let’s face it, it’s only a matter of time until someone picks up a snake the wrong way, and I’ll move up the hierarchy. Between us, I hope it’s Cindii, who started a day before me, which somehow translates to her flicking her glossy too-blonde hair in my face and acting superior. I mean, she started a mere twelve hours before me. And, to be honest, anyone who spells their name with two i’s like some kind of Barbie doll shouldn’t be handling snakes and cane toads, anyway. She might break a nail, or ruin the blood-red varnish she insists on wearing. She’s like Ranger Stacey on Botox.

  I suit the job description much better. Long brown hair, always tied back in a ponytail for safety reasons, khaki shirt and shorts - regulation length, steel-capped boots, a smothering of sunscreen, and super-fit physique. Just as the manual stipulates. Cindii wears tight shorts and a teeny tiny singlet which leaves her well open to being the most likely to get bitten. She can’t run, or pivot, without hoiking the shorts from whichever crevice they creep in to, and in the heat of the moment when it’s us against snake, you simply don’t have time for shorts hoiking. You just don’t.