“Just out of curiosity,” I say, “what exactly is Derek inside for?”
“This time? Oh it was nothing, a misunderstanding. He borrowed a car to go see his kids and some asshole reported it stolen.”
“Some asshole?”
“Yeah this old guy up the street.”
“So was it? Stolen?”
“Well yeah, technically,” he admits, putting the cigarette in his mouth and lighting the end. “But he would have dumped it somewhere so the guy would have got it back. My brother’s not one of those losers who torch the cars’ he nicks.”
“I’m sure his victims are grateful.”
The day is hot as hell and I work up a huge sweat, thanks to Matt not pulling his weight, so when I get home and see Louis’s car in the driveway I decide I’ll have a quick shower and then head out, go see Maddy or Connor if she’s busy.
Mum has other ideas.
“Albert,” she says as soon as I walk through the door. “Could you fire up the BBQ please? Your brother and family are here for dinner and your father was supposed to cook the steak and sausages for me but he’s been caught up at work.”
This is welcome news. Since our last meeting where my father ‘suggested’ I join the police force I have managed to evade being caught in his presence via a complicated system of ‘sneaking in once he’s in bed’ and ‘hiding in my room until he’s left’. It’s helped that he’s on long shifts at the moment thanks to an increase in burglaries. I make a mental note to thank Matt and his brothers for keeping my father off my case and on theirs.
Mum sniffs the air and stops grating cheese for a salad to turn around and look at me.
“Maybe shower first,” she suggests.
“I was planning to. Why can’t Louis do the BBQ?” I ask, aware I sound like a resentful four year old.
“Because he’s watching the news.”
“He can still watch it from the deck with the doors open.”
“He’s our guest.”
“So?”
She sighs. “Please?”
I sigh too, for effect. “Fine.” I grab a beer from the fridge and drink it in the shower, taking my time. When I get out, Louis has fired up the BBQ and is standing there watching the news while holding the tongs in one hand and a beer in the other.
“Jeez you took your time,” he says. “S’pose when you’ve got girly hair like yours it takes longer to make yourself pretty.” He grins, pleased with his insult.
“At least I’ve got hair,” I walk away from him back towards the kitchen.
“What does he mean by that?” I hear him ask Miranda in a puzzled voice.
“No idea,” she lies.
In recent years my brother has developed what I refer to as a crop circle on the top back of his head, in a place he can’t see unless he were to hold a mirror behind his head while looking into another mirror. It has slowly thinned out leaving a perfect little circle of almost baldness, of which he is completely unaware. How he doesn’t feel it when he shampoos I have no idea, but Miranda quietly asked us all not to mention it to avoid upsetting him. It gives me petty pleasure every time I see it.
“Why are they here?” I ask mum.
“Does there have to be a reason? It’s what families do.”
“Yeah, other families maybe.”
“Good point,” she concedes.
I’m just reaching into the fridge for another beer when the front door opens and dad walks in.
“I hope that’s not one of mine,” are the first words out of his mouth.
“Hi love! How was your day love, oh fine thanks love, thanks for asking,” mum mumbles under her breath.
“Relax dad,” I say, “I paid for these.”
“Relax? Damn straight I’m going to relax. If you’d had a day like I have you’d want to relax too. Of course coming home to a house full of freeloaders doesn’t help.”
Mum goes into the laundry and slams the door shut.
“I didn’t mean you love,” Dad calls after her. Then he glares at me. “See what you’ve done now? You’ve upset your mother.”
I don’t even bother arguing. There’s no point.
“Hey dad.” Louis wanders into the kitchen and helps himself to one of my beers. “Steak is nearly ready.”
“Still pink inside?”
“Of course. What do you take me for, a philistine?”
They both laugh uproariously. I am struck once again by how different their shared sense of humour is to my own.
“Good lad,” dad says approvingly. “I’ll have a quick splash first. Keep an eye on that steak, remember it keeps cooking while it rests.”
Louis nods.
Dad turns to me and narrows his eyes. “And you, fix this.” He thumbs towards the laundry door.
When he’s disappeared off up the hallway and Louis has gone out to monitor the meat, I knock gently on the laundry door.
“Mum?”
“Who is it?”
“Albert.”
“Just you?”
I check over both shoulders. “Just me.”
The door opens a crack and a big green eye peers through, as if to confirm I am telling the truth. She relaxes when she sees it is just me, and opens the door the rest of the way.
“Come in,” she says.
I sidle in sideways and she closes the door behind me. I notice a new pot plant on the windowsill, a big leafy fern thing. There’s also a new white cane chair placed underneath it and I imagine her sitting in it, watching the clouds roll by.
“Sorry if I upset you,” I say.
She sighs. “You didn’t.”
We both know who did, and it remains unspoken between us.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said and I think you’re right,” I say.
Mum sits in the chair and takes a sip from her glass of wine. “Refresh my memory.”
“About moving out.”
Her eyes light up and she sits up properly, leaning forward. “Seriously? You’re going to do it?”
“Yeah I reckon it’s about time.”
She relaxes back again and her face undergoes a serene transformation. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time.”
“Thought you’d be happy.”
“You know it’s not because I want you to go, right? I’m only thinking about what’s best for you. I just want you to be happy.”
“I know.”
She sniffs. “My baby is fleeing the nest.”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it fleeing. I still have to find somewhere first. But yeah, soon hopefully.”
She sighs deeply, her expression serious again. “I’m sorry,” she says.
“For?”
“You know what for.”
And I do know. I can read it on her face. She is apologising for him. But she doesn’t need to.
“Don’t,” I say firmly. “You have nothing to apologise for.”
“I often wonder,” she says softly, caught up in thought. “What life would have been like if I’d chosen you a different father? But of course if I’d married someone else I wouldn’t have had you, and that doesn’t bear thinking about. It hasn’t all been bad, has it?”
“No, it hasn’t.” And it’s true. I have plenty of happy memories growing up. There are worse things in the world than an overly strict, uncaring father. Although when you’re eight years old and wondering why your father can’t seem to stand you, let alone love you, that’s a hard thing to understand.
The door opens and Miranda sticks her head in. She looks pale and washed out, like the baby is draining the very life from her.
“The meat is ready,” she says. “Do you want me to start putting out the salads?
“No it’s ok love, you sit down and rest. I’ll do it.” Mum gets to her feet and kisses me on the cheek as she walks past. “Best news in a long time,” she echoes softly.
Maddy
There’s something wrong with the paving stones that lead the way across the lawn to his
front door. They keep moving. I try and put my left foot on the next one but topple over, landing on the soft grass with an oompf! I giggle, then giggle at the sound of myself giggling. I’m not much of a giggler and the sound is hilarious.
Bang bang on the door, my fist goes when I finally make it.
Bang bang it goes again when the door fails to open. It feels like an hour has passed, but maybe it’s only ten seconds. I’m lifting my fist to bang again when it opens.
Albert’s mum is standing there. This will be the third time I’ve met her, if you count the time at the grocery store and the time I stopped by with Albert to pick up his surfboard and she came out to the car to meet me. Now that I think about it, why did he tell me to wait in the car? Is he ashamed of me? Bastard.
The smell of food wafts out of the warm, lit space around her and my stomach growls audibly. When was the last time I ate? I can’t remember. It smells like the most sensational thing I’ve ever smelt in my life.
“Ish Al-bear here?” I say. The words come out thick, like I’m speaking through syrup.
She gives me a knowing look. “Maddy,” she says. “How lovely to see you again. Would you like to come in?”
I lower my voice furtively. “Are you sure I’m allowed?”
She frowns, confused. “Allowed?”
“Yesh. See, way I figure is, either Al-bear is ashamed of me, or you. I’m not sure which.”
She steps back to call out to someone I can’t see. “Albert? Can you come here please?”
Hearing her call him I am suddenly filled with panic. What am I doing, why did I come? Shit. I step backwards, holding a finger to my lips to shush her and tell her I’ve changed my mind but I forget I’m at the top of three stairs and my foot meets air. I land heavily on the ground, my head connecting solidly with the concrete.
I lay there, looking up at the stars and I say, “Fuck. That’s going to leave a bump.”
“Maddy are you ok?”
Albert’s concerned face swims into view and as soon as I see it the panic flees, replaced by warm fuzzy feelings and all the sadness that drove me to walk here in the first place. I reach up a hand to touch his cheek.
“Al-bear,” I say.
“Should I call an ambulance?” His mum asks from out of view.
“I missed you,” I tell him reproachfully, slapping my fingers against his cheek softly. “Why are you avoiding me?”
“No I think she’s ok. Help me get her up.” Albert says. Together they manage to pull me to an upright position. Stars immediately fill my vision and I hold an exploring hand out to try and catch them.
“Woah. Pretty.” I say.
“I think I should call an ambulance.”
“Let’s just get her inside and decide from there.”
They pull me upright and use their shoulders under my armpits to lead me up the steps and into the warm, delicious smelling house. Six pairs of eyes seated around a dining table regard me thoughtfully.
“Ooh wine.” I spy an open bottle on the table and without waiting for an invitation I wander over and plonk myself down on an empty seat next to a couple of children. The one nearest shuffles his seat away like I’m contagious. Maybe I am.
“Don’t worry, I won’t bite,” I say to him convivially.
“She stinks,” he complains to a woman across the table who I assume has the pleasure of being his mother.
“Brad,” she scolds.
“It’s ok,” I reassure her. “He’s probably right. I’ve just come from the pub and before that I was drinking at the park.”
Colin’s face creases disapprovingly. “The park has a liquor ban. You shouldn’t have been drinking anywhere near it.”
“Does it? Oh dear. Sorry.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear anything this time,” he says. I haven’t seen Albert’s father since that day he pulled us over on the way to the beach. There is something cold about his eyes. The way he is looking at me makes my skin crawl. “Albert, fetch your guest a plate,” he says.
“And a glass,” I say, before spying an empty one in front of the pale, insipid looking woman who is looking at me with eyes like saucers. “Never mind, I’ll just use this one.”
“I think you’ve already had enough.” Colin says disapprovingly.
“Enough wine? Actually – fun fact - I haven’t had any.” I say truthfully. “I’ve had a few beers, and a whiskey or two, but no wine.” I pour myself a glass and take a large gulp. It is horrendously sweet and I nearly gag, not sure how anyone can drink it, but I take another mouthful anyway. I know I’m being rude but I can’t seem to stop myself.
“You must be Al-bear’s brother,” I say to the big hulking man on the other side of the table who is watching me, amused. He has a steak the size of his head on his plate and is chewing on a piece, unaware the bloody juices are running down his chin. It turns my stomach.
“You have a little something –” I gesture.
He wipes it on the back of his hand. “Louis,” he says, holding out the same hand.
“Do you mind if I don’t?” I say, looking at it.
He shrugs. I sense immediately he has supreme confidence in himself, enough for a small country. I could insult him and it would bounce right off. He looks nothing like my sweet, gentle Al-bert, who has pulled a stool over from the breakfast bar and has squeezed it in beside me. He looks down at me, worried.
“Can I get you some water?” he asks softly.
“You can. I probably won’t drink it though.”
“I think you should.”
“And I think you should call someone back when you see you have twelve missed calls.” I try to say it quietly but my drunken voice has other plans.
“Huh?”
“I’ve been calling you all night.”
“Oh. Sorry.” He stands and feels his back pockets. “I must have left my phone in the truck.”
“Whippesh.” Louis makes a whipping sound. “She’s got you whipped.”
“She happens to be right here. And she has a name,” I say.
Colin smirks. “Oh that’s right, Madonna.”
I turn to Albert, outraged. “You told him?”
“No,” he shakes his head. ‘I didn’t. I told mum.”
“I didn’t realise it was a secret,” she says bewildered. “What’s wrong with Madonna? I think it’s a lovely name.”
“I agree,” the insipid lady says.
Louis scowls at her and she drops her head to her plate. Instantly I realise; he’s a bully. Like father like son. I understand why Albert hasn’t wanted me to meet them before. He needn’t have worried though because I’m not scared of bullies. And I don’t give a shit what other people think about me. Growing up with a sister like Bee has given me a thick skin and no qualms about challenging authority, or people who perceive themselves to be important. We all put our knickers on the same way at the end of the day.
“All the same, I prefer to be called Maddy.”
“What brings you here tonight Maddy?” Colin asks. Then a thought occurs to him and he puts on his stern policeman’s voice. “I hope you didn’t drive.”
“I needed to see Albert. And no, I didn’t. I’m not that stupid.” The bang to the head and the chilly reception from Albert’s father has had a sobering effect and I start to regret my decision to come here.
Louis snorts. Considering he doesn’t know me I can only hazard a guess that he’s some kind of sexist wanker.
“And I apologise for gate crashing your family dinner,” I continue, although the word comes out sounding more like apogigize.
“I really think you should have some water,” Albert says. “You might be concussed.”
“I don’t want water. And I’m fast growing tired of people deciding what’s good for me.”
“Ooh she’s a firecracker,” Louis says. “Better watch yourself Albert. She’ll have your balls off if you’re not careful.”
“Shut up Louis,” Albert says.
“Of co
urse even steaming drunk she’s still way out of your league.”
I stare at him. “What’s that supposed to mean.”
“Oh come on, don’t get all feminist. It’s a compliment.” He gestures to Albert and then me. “You’re hot and he’s, well, he’s Albert.”
“Not that looks have anything to do with anything,” I retort. “But girls much prefer Albert’s clean and healthy outdoor surf boy look to your meathead beefiness.”
He chokes on the piece of steak he’s just shoved in his mouth. “What did you say?”
“You heard me.”
“Just eat your dinner Louis,” Albert says. “She’s drunk.”
“I am not drunk,” I retort. “But even if I was, you shouldn’t let your bonehead of a brother talk to you like this.”
“Who are you calling a bonehead?” Louis drops his knife and it hits his plate with a clang. I see his wife put a hand on his arm and all I feel is pity for her. Imagine living with someone with such a trigger happy temper and bullshit views on women. Louis’s face darkens. “You might look alright but underneath you’re a mouthy tart just like that slut you were named after.”
“That’s enough Louis,” Albert’s mum says. “Maddy is our guest.”
“Guests are normally invited,” Colin says pointedly. “But thank you, Albert, for ruining yet another family dinner.”
I push back my chair. “Don’t worry, I’m going.”
“I’m coming with you,” Albert says.
“You don’t need to.”
“I’m not letting you walk home alone in this state.”
“Fine.”
I’m a little upset with him for not defending me to his awful brother. But more than that, I’m upset that he didn’t defend himself.
Albert
The sharp coldness of the night time air seems to sober her up more than any glass of water ever could. I reach for her hand as we walk up the path but she pulls it away with a sharp intake of breath.
I don’t know what’s wrong with her, what I’ve done or haven’t done. I’ve never seen her drunk before so I’m unsure what my approach should be.
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