The Impossible Story of Olive In Love

by Tonya Alexandra

  23

  Tom says I’m too loud. He shoos me out the front door to drive me home, but not before his mother has given him a stern word about mistreating Tamara and ‘this new girl’. Tom takes it like a trooper, glaring at me with ‘I told you so’ eyes, as his mum, again, insists on meeting me.

  ‘It’s sweet,’ Rose says when I tell her later.

  The three of us are sitting around on our couch. Rose, thankfully over our fight the other night, has made Tom coffee and they’re both clinging to their cups like the addicts they are, relieved to have each other back, so they don’t feel like they’re the only one with a problem. Rose was so happy to see Tom come in, it was as if I’d walked in with Santa Claus.

  ‘I know it’s sweet. But what can we do about it? Hire a body double?’ I joke.

  Rose and I laugh but Tom does this scary freeze, like he’s just had an idea.

  ‘We could—’

  I shut him off. ‘I don’t think I want to hear the end of that sentence, bucko.’

  ‘Me neither,’ says Rose. ‘I’ve been roped into enough with Wynona.’

  Tom and I exchange a glance. A stranger pretending to be me, no way, but Rose? I could trust her.

  She is looking cagey. ‘Olive, you’re being too quiet. Tom, stop looking at me like that.’

  I nod at Tom. He knows to take the lead.

  ‘Sorry Rose. It’s just you would be perfect. You could easily pretend to be Olive. You’re so good at acting.’

  ‘What? You honestly want me to do it? I thought you were joking.’

  ‘It would just be once,’ he insists. ‘We could make it a real quick, in and out.’

  ‘I’m older than you!’ Rose protests.

  ‘So what? You’re gorgeous, Mum would totally buy that I was into you.’

  Rose blushes at that and I crumple my nose.

  ‘No need to go that far,’ I complain.

  ‘I’m just saying she and I could easily look like a couple. Dawn bought it at the concert, when Rose was Wynona. It’s just another role for her.’ He taps my nose. ‘She just has to act all bitter and sarcastic.’

  I humph but I don’t dismiss the idea. It’s true Rose could pull it off and if it makes Tom happy then it’s worth a try. I will be a good girlfriend, even if I have to lie, cheat and manipulate.

  I go for the guilt move. ‘Imagine his mum, Rose, the poor thing going out of her mind trying to do the right thing.’

  Rose looks at Tom. ‘It’s that bad?’

  ‘It really would help,’ he admits.

  She gives a big sigh. ‘All right. But five minutes—in and out.’

  ‘A quick coffee, nothing more,’ Tom promises, leaning forward to give her a hug. ‘You’re the best.’

  I take his cue and bend over and kiss her cheek—I really am learning from him. ‘Thanks sis.’

  ‘On one condition.’ She holds up a finger.

  ‘Here we go,’ I can’t help saying.

  ‘Anything,’ Tom says, shushing me with his eyes.

  ‘It’s nothing personal Tom, but I don’t want you staying over with Olive.’ She gives him a meaningful look. Talk about mortifying.

  ‘Just tonight you mean?’ I say.

  ‘No. I mean ongoing.’

  ‘What? Until we’re married? Unbelievable, Rose!’ She’s treating me like a kid when I’ve been roaming this city for years by myself. Christ, I’ve been staying over at Felix’s since I was thirteen! ‘You’re being archaic! You know you can’t stop us having sex, right? If we really wanted to we’d just go do it in his car or something.’

  Rose goes bright red. ‘Ma would’ve wanted it this way,’ she mutters.

  That kind of stops me in my tracks. Tom sees me waver.

  ‘Okay,’ he says, putting his hand on my knee. ‘We’ll respect your rules, Rose.’

  ‘Even if they’re stupid,’ I add with disgust.

  * * *

  It’s hours later, almost midnight. Rose has gone to bed but Tom and I don’t want to say goodnight. I’ve coaxed him into playing strip Sudoku by candlelight. I’m good at Sudoku—my memory is excellent and I’ve banned Tom from writing down the possible numerals for each cell—so I’m expecting a glorious victory. I know. It’s totally rigged, but it’s far more fun watching him strip.

  So far Tom has only lost his shoes and socks, and I am fully dressed, but he’s just lost again, so he’s on his feet by the door, slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt. He waggles his eyebrows and I am clapping and chanting ‘strip! strip! strip!’ loudly like some frat-house boy.

  Tom pulls his shirt back over his shoulders and pauses. ‘Quiet,’ he tells me. Which makes me louder.

  ‘Take it off baby!’ I call out. So he does. He flings it across the room at my face.

  ‘You’re not going to be happy until I’m completely naked, are you?’ he calls back.

  There is banging on the door.

  We both freeze.

  Tom puts his eye to the peephole. ‘Cac!’ He backs away.

  ‘Rose!’ a deep voice calls.

  Tom doesn’t need to tell me who it is. It’s Malcolm. He’s heard everything.

  ‘Let me in. I can hear you’re in there.’ He pounds on the door again, louder now.

  Tom is gesturing wildly. What the hell is he supposed to do? He moves to answer the door but I shake my head madly. Tom is the last person Malcolm would want to see right now. I scoop up Tom’s shirt and shoes and motion for him to follow me.

  Rose has appeared, she looks at Tom with his shirt off and hears Malcolm at the door and quickly guesses what’s going on.

  ‘I’m sorry!’ I say. ‘I’ll hide him.’ I push him down the hall.

  ‘Cac,’ she mutters, ‘just hurry,’ and she rushes to the door.

  Malcolm is slouched against the door frame, struggling to hold himself up. His face is puffy, his eyes bloodshot.

  ‘Mal, what’s going on?’

  He is rolling into the room, his body somehow faster than his feet. He appraises Rose, she’s wearing this black slip that Malcolm bought her.

  It enrages him. ‘Why are you wearing that?’

  ‘My other pyjamas are in the wash,’ she says.

  I hear him start to search the room. ‘Where is he? The guy you’re wearing that for?’ I push Tom ahead of me and into the bathroom. I haul open the window, start chucking his clothes out. Malcolm is furious. I need to do more than hide Tom now. ‘You need to get out, now. Malcolm will kill you if he finds you.’

  ‘Seriously? That window is tiny!’

  ‘Go,’ I insist. ‘I’ll follow you.’

  I hear Malcolm outside the door. ‘He’s in the bathroom then,’ he slurs.

  ‘Go! Go!’ I hiss, grabbing his elbow and thrusting him toward the window.

  Tom shakes me off. ‘Okay, I’m going!’ He climbs onto the toilet and squeezes his shoulders through the window. He pulls his torso through, then he’s balancing like a see-saw on his thighs. The only way out is to land on his head.

  I stuff my hands over my mouth to stop myself from laughing. ‘You should have gone feet first,’ I say, watching his legs flail about.

  ‘Bit late for that now!’ he growls back at me.

  Meanwhile Malcolm is rattling the door.

  ‘Why is it locked then?’ he demands.

  ‘It’s not locked, it just gets tricky sometimes,’ Rose says. She starts jigging at it. I know what she’s thinking. Get him the hell out, Olive.

  I grab Tom’s feet and try to help steady him, but I’m not the strongest girl in the world. I hear an ‘oof’ as he hits the cement path.

  ‘It usually opens by now,’ I hear Rose say loudly. ‘I don’t know why it is taking so long.’

  There is no time for me to escape. I unlock the door and stand back against the shower screen, hoping Tom isn’t lying unconscious on the ground outside.

  Rose pushes the door wide. ‘See?’

  Malcolm comes in and peers around the room. The window is still open;
he sticks his head and shoulders through. I’m praying Tom is clear.

  ‘There’s someone there,’ Malcolm accuses. ‘I can see his shadow, he’s walking away fast.’

  ‘Of course there’s someone out there,’ Rose says. ‘It’s a main road.’

  Malcolm storms out of the bathroom. ‘I know what I heard, Rose. I’m sick of you lying to me.’

  Rose and I follow him back into the lounge room. He has his arms crossed, his squat face drawn up like a grumpy gnome. ‘It’s always the same thing. I heard wrong, I saw wrong; I must have imagined the door just opened and closed itself, I must have forgotten seeing you switch the music over, I must have forgotten only bringing five beers not six. I mean, who sells a five pack of beer!’

  Oops, so he did notice I took that beer. In my defence it was actually Tom who drank it.

  Rose looks suddenly exhausted. She sinks onto the couch and starts to cry. ‘I’m sorry, Malcolm. I’m so, so sorry.’

  Malcolm is quiet for a moment but then sits down beside her and strokes her hair. ‘It’s all right love, don’t cry.’

  ‘But I love you,’ she sobs, looking up at him. ‘And it’s not fair that you have to deal with all the drama that happens around me. But it has nothing to do with you, I promise. I love you.’

  And then, instead of grilling her for an explanation like I would have done, he kisses her forehead. ‘It’ll be okay love,’ he says. ‘Quiet now, I believe you.’

  It’s a shocking thing to witness, that trust he has in her. I would have totally lost it if I thought Tom had a girl in his room. But Malcolm believes her even if all evidence points to the contrary. That’s pretty admirable.

  ‘Let me make you a cup of tea, hey?’ he says, getting to his shaky feet.

  Huh. That surprises me too. He’s loyal. Kind. Trusting.

  I always thought he was a loser, but no—that would be me.

  CHAPTER

  24

  The next afternoon, I let Rose answer the door for Tom. I’m in the bathroom getting ready. I hear them greet each other, hear Tom’s apologies for the night before. Then Rose is apologising for how Tom was forced to flee out the bathroom window.

  I’m chuckling at the memory when I notice how quiet it’s got out there. I take a cursory glance out and see Tom and Rose speaking softly over the kitchen counter. Tom’s hand is on her arm. They’re closer than I realised.

  I want to know what they’re saying so I take a few steps closer just in time to hear Tom say, ‘Yes, she’s hard work.’

  They’re talking about me. They have to be. It slices me up like a good stir-fry.

  I must have gasped or something because Tom takes a cursory glance behind him, but I’ve shrunk back out of view. What can I do? I have to make this better. The two people I love the most, I’ve condemned to a life sentence of suffering. But how do I fix this? It’s too big to contemplate.

  I bounce into the room trying to be flippant. ‘Thomas, my Adonis. You’re here!’ I throw my arms around his neck, kissing him wildly.

  ‘Hey,’ says Tom, kissing me back.

  ‘Mmm. Yummy. Onions?’

  ‘Greek salad.’

  ‘Scrumptious.’

  Rose walks past me to take her turn in the bathroom. ‘Everything okay?’ I ask, trying to sound oblivious.

  ‘Fabulous.’

  ‘Are you still fine to do this today?’ Tom calls after her. ‘We can do it later if you’re not up to it.’

  Rose shrugs. ‘May as well get it over with.’

  After Rose disappears Tom strokes my cheek. ‘Baby, we’ve got to do something about her and Malcolm.’

  ‘I thought they were cool. They seemed to be last night. He trusts her completely.’ I’m still amazed by Malcolm’s faith in Rose. I wish I could find that comfort with someone. I know Tom is here for me now, but there’s still that sick sinking feeling in my bones that’s telling me, he won’t be for long.

  ‘Sure, they made up,’ Tom agrees, ‘but we need to figure something out, you know, long term.’

  I lift my eyebrows. ‘Are you proposing marriage?’ I joke.

  ‘Olive, I’m being serious.’

  Of course he’s being serious. Does he think I’ve never considered any of this? But what are the options, finding some deranged-person hostel for me? Hiding me away in a mountain cabin like a con on the run? It’s humiliating.

  I lick my finger and pat his eyebrows into place. ‘Why does everything have to be so deplorably serious?’ He frowns at me. I frown right back. ‘All right, all right. I’ll think of something.’

  * * *

  I am under strict instructions to stay in the car—ten minutes, Tom promises. But as we pull up to the driveway it’s crowded with cars: an old VW Beetle, a Volvo station wagon, a yellow sedan covered in stickers.

  ‘Shit,’ Tom says, pulling over. ‘My sisters are here.’

  ‘So much for ten minutes,’ Rose grumbles.

  She’s right. I’m not sitting in the car bored out of my mind while someone is pretending to be me. ‘I’m coming in,’ I declare.

  ‘No,’ they both say emphatically.

  Rose opens the door and pushes me off her lap back into the cab. ‘Stay here,’ she orders.

  Tom leans over and kisses my forehead. ‘We’ll be as fast as possible, promise,’ he says, shutting the door.

  It’s twenty minutes later and there is no way I’m sitting in here any longer. I climb out the window (so nobody sees a door open and shut by itself) and walk around the side of the house. Wooden fence. I know the kitchen looks out into the courtyard behind, but I can’t risk opening the gate. I climb it, hiking my skirt up and tucking it into my underwear. Not the most attractive look. It’s times like this I’m glad to be invisible.

  I land with a scrunching sound of pebbles, Bluto at my feet, barking like mad but in a happy way, thank god. I crouch and take him in my arms.

  ‘Good boy,’ I whisper. ‘Quiet now.’

  He doesn’t give it up. He yelps excitedly, his tail whipping from side to side.

  ‘All right I get it—you’re excited! Move on.’

  The glass door slides open. Paul ducks his head out. ‘Bluto! Be quiet!’

  Bluto glances at him with an expression I swear is derision and keeps barking. Paul shuts the door with a huff. I follow him to the glass door and peer through.

  Tom and Rose sit holding hands at the kitchen table. They look stiff and uncomfortable, so not a couple. Tom almost jumps out of his skin when I appear at the glass. It’s too funny. I smile and wave. He purses his lips and glares at me.

  I start dancing, Bluto jumping around with me. I moonwalk past, twerk my booty at the glass. Tom is trying not to laugh; he’s not doing a good job. Rose looks at him strangely. The poor girl is being held hostage by his sisters, who sit on the opposite side of the table, like a row of judges. I’m so glad it’s not me in there, answering all their dumb questions.

  I’m running out of moves, so I whip off my top. As I fling it away I realise what I’ve done—there is a stranger’s shirt flying through thin air. Bluto nabs it and starts throwing his head around wildly. I’m trying to wrestle it out of his teeth but he thinks it’s a game. So there’s me in my bra playing tug-of-war with a dumb dog and god knows what they see inside. Tom has shut his eyes, trying to compose himself I think, because his mouth is twitching like he’s holding back a tidal wave of laughter.

  Eventually he comes to the door and opens it. ‘Bluto. Quiet.’ He steps out and shuts the door behind him. Then he bends over and begins stroking the beast. ‘I can understand why you’re so excited buddy. She’s something, isn’t she?’ He pulls the shirt free.

  ‘He can see you?’ Tom asks me, still looking at Bluto.

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe he can smell me.’ I play with Tom’s hair. It’s all silky. He must have washed it today.

  ‘Careful,’ he warns.

  ‘It’s just the wind,’ I say. ‘Is my shirt totally ruined?’

  He holds
it up and laughs. It’s ripped and covered in slobber. ‘Serves you right, teasing me like that.’

  ‘I could do worse.’

  ‘Are you trying to make this impossible?’

  ‘How much longer are you going to be?’ I complain.

  ‘I was just about to come out to the car to tell you.’ Tom bites his thumbnail.

  ‘What?’

  ‘My sisters have convinced Rose to stay for dinner.’

  ‘Seriously?’

  ‘Everything is deplorably serious, darling.’ He is mocking me.

  ‘And you expect me to sit out here all night?’

  ‘No,’ he says. ‘Go home. I’ll pay for a cab.’ What a gentleman.

  ‘Yeah, and how’s that going to work?’ I ask him.

  He has to think about that. ‘Sorry, I guess it won’t. You can get a bus from the shops? You walk about twenty minutes down—’

  I shut him off. ‘I’m not doing that. Let me inside.’

  ‘Olive.’ He says it like I’m a naughty child.

  ‘It’s cold,’ I complain. ‘Come on, I’ll stay in your room and just read or something. You can’t leave me outside like this!’

  ‘I know I’m going to regret this,’ Tom says, standing up. He opens the glass door, leaving room for me to walk in behind him before he shuts it.

  ‘What was Bluto chewing?’ one of his sisters asks. She has long wavy blond hair with streaks of red dyed through it. She’s wearing denim jeans and a tie-dyed T-shirt.

  As if he knows this is the only chance he’ll get to introduce his family to me, Tom goes around the room. ‘Just a rag I dry my board with, Jacqui.’

  ‘It was not your shirt, Sarah,’ he says pointedly to the next sister. Her blond hair is cut into a sharp bob and she is wearing a crumpled business shirt. A toddler sits on her lap chewing something gross.

  ‘And it was not yours, Marnie,’ he says to the youngest sister. Her hair long and mousy, she sits in a polka dot dress, hunched over a cup of tea. The pregnant one, I gather.

  ‘Thank you for clearing that up, Thomas,’ Jacqui mimics him. She’s instantly my favourite.

  Rose is looking suspiciously around Tom, instinctively knowing I’m about. I wave. Of course she can’t see me but Tom grabs at my hand and starts pulling me down the hall. ‘I’m just putting it in my room.’ He waves my shirt around in the air. ‘I’ll be back.’