Tiddas

by Anita Heiss

  ‘Is it safe around here though, I mean after that bike path rapist they caught a few years back?’ Xanthe was concerned, recalling a man going to jail for twenty-five years for attacks on eleven women in the area.

  ‘It’s safe now, but before they caught him, one of the boys would walk with me or I just walked in the middle of the day. Now though, the bike path is full of walkers from daylight to dark, so it’s pretty safe all the time. Either way, I always take Butch for a walk, so I doubt anyone will come near me.’ She turned towards the huge German shepherd lying alongside the pool.

  ‘That dog is a serious man-magnet, Vee. That’s what you should call him.’ Ellen looked as if a light bulb had just turned on in her head. She spun around from leaning against the screen door. ‘Actually, I should borrow Butch sometime when, you know, I’m in need.’

  ‘When you’re on heat more like it,’ Xanthe said out loud, and out of character, but she giggled anyway.

  Ellen threw her an unappreciative look.

  ‘What?’ shrieked Xanthe. ‘You set yourself up for that one!’

  Even though Xanthe was only teasing Ellen, Veronica went into peacemaker mode anyway, changing the subject immediately. ‘I’m going to show you some of this lush leafy suburb of mine right now. Did you bring your walking shoes? We should head up to Poet’s Corner and meet Izzy and Nadine. It’s only a quick stroll from here.’

  Veronica had asked the women if they could start their book club meeting at Poet’s Corner for a reason. Ellen and Xanthe said they’d park at hers and walk, but the other women were going straight there. Izzy arrived in her convertible, roof down, scarf wrapped elegantly around her head like she was a Thelma in need of a Louise. Her beloved car would soon be traded in for the family wagon Asher had been researching. Nadine climbed out of the four-wheel-drive with Richard waving through the window as he drove off with orders to pick up his wife in three hours. He grinned at his sister’s number plate – BLAKFULA – as he pulled out onto Waterworks Road.

  They kissed their greetings and Veronica led the women down a small grassy hill to the memorial site known as Poet’s Corner.

  ‘I chose the biography Auntie Rita for this month because as you’ll know from reading the book, she was an inspirational Murri pioneer here at The Gap. And this is a memorial to her.’

  The women all leaned in to read the plaque, realising how close they were to one of the country’s most loved Aboriginal heroines.

  ‘I came to the unveiling way back in 1994 and there were hundreds of people here. Even the Governor.’ Veronica thought back to the day; the sun had been shining and there were kids everywhere.

  Now, as the sun went down, the women all felt the sudden drop in temperature.

  ‘I think we should head inside,’ Izzy said, worried about getting a cold or even a chill.

  ‘Well, I decided I wanted to take you to the GT for dinner, my treat, something different,’ Veronica said enthusiastically, hoping they’d all agree. She wanted a night out, in public, with the noise of patrons and poker machines and laughter. ‘We can talk about the book over a steak, or salad, or whatever you want.’

  Veronica felt she should be encouraging her tiddas, but the truth was no-one could ever deny Vee anything. She rarely asked for much, contributed only positive comments and was definitely the glue of the group.

  As they squeezed into Izzy’s car and headed to Glenquarie Place, Ellen asked, ‘How many Blackfellas can you fit in a convertible?’

  ‘As many as I have to,’ Izzy joked.

  ‘I bet we’ll be the only Blackfellas there eh, Vee?’ Ellen said as they pulled into the nondescript car park.

  ‘Probably, but no-one will look at you strangely. The whitefellas are pretty good round here, just treat everyone the same,’ Veronica said proudly of her local community.

  ‘I reckon I’d have to padlock the doors with so many whites as neighbours.’ Izzy almost choked on her own joke.

  It was the first time they’d all been to the NAIDOC Ball together. After a week of events, marches, flag raisings, lunches, speeches, readings, performances and an overdose of comments on Facebook and Twitter that each had participated in to varying degrees, including Veronica, the official ball was the one thing they would all do to celebrate the national week together.

  The Ball was one of the most prestigious and glamorous annual events that Blackfellas from around the country got frocked up for, and that supportive whitefellas also loved. As soon as the tiddas learned that Brisbane was the host city for the year, they had all started shopping for dresses. Xanthe chose a scarlet silk maxi by Surafina she picked up from a local store in Paddington. Ellen and Izzy drove out to DFO near the airport and spent hours trying on outfits. Izzy was feeling larger than she actually looked so went for something loose but sexy, a leopard jersey dress at a bargain price; now she could also afford a new bag and shoes. Ellen went for a plain, black floor-length gown with gold belt and matching shoes. Richard drove Nadine to The Gap from where Veronica drove her into the city, and the two wealthiest of the tiddas bought their frocks at Lisa Ho. Nadine chose a silk tulle gown with a cross-over bodice in gunmetal, which she knew she’d probably never wear again. Veronica indulged in a blood-red cotton lace cap-sleeve gown that she knew she could get three more events out of if she could ever find somewhere else to go. Although cashed up, Veronica wasn’t wasteful and she didn’t actually like to shop, so if she could get a lot of wears out of one frock, it was a bonus.

  By the time the women met in the lobby of the Convention Centre at South Bank, they looked ready to do a magazine spread. Xanthe took Spencer, Nadine took Richard but the other three women went solo. Veronica had vowed never to date again, Asher was working and couldn’t accompany Izzy, and Ellen was on the prowl.

  ‘If a man can’t look good in a tux, then he’ll never look good,’ she said loud enough for at least three brothers to turn around and wink at her. Ellen was determined to get some NAIDOC nookie.

  As the evening proceeded the women gave a running commentary on the fashions, the faux pas, the food and the speeches. When the NAIDOC Person of the Year was announced, they all looked at each other wide-eyed. They weren’t surprised, given their book club discussion only two months prior.

  As the women hit the dance floor the men sat talking football; it was all Spencer and Richard had in common. Male bonding over sport was useful at functions where females danced in circles and went to the toilets in pairs – even in their forties – and the blokes declared bad knees, two left feet and a sudden interest in minding handbags.

  For once Xanthe looked like she was letting her hair down as she boogied and shimmied and crumped as good as the younger Murri girls around her. Microwave Jenny and The Last Kinection rocked the stage and over a thousand Blackfellas shook the dance floor.

  ‘My feet are killing me,’ Izzy said, unable to feel her toes in her gold heels. ‘My back hurts too. I think I’m going to leave soon, get a cab before the rush.’

  ‘I’m coming with you,’ Ellen grabbed her arm.

  ‘What about that fella you’ve been dancing with? He looks keen.’

  ‘I’m looking at him and he looks a little bit like me. I’m fairly sure we’re related. I’ve gotta get outta here before he starts grinding me!’ Ellen momentarily had a flashback to Krissy Kneen’s book which the tiddas had read some time back for the book club. It had shocked them all, especially the love story between the brother and sister.

  ‘Yes, I seriously need to get out of here, he’s coming this way.’ Ellen marched Izzy to the table, where Richard and Nadine were having an argument.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Izzy asked Spencer.

  ‘Oh, I think Nadine might be a bit pissed, and Richard’s got the shits.’

  Izzy walked around the table and whispered in her brother’s ear. ‘You need to leave. You’re both making a scene.’

  ‘I’m fucking trying, she’s out of control. She’s never this bad.’

  Don’t bet
on it, Izzy thought to herself.

  ‘Tidda, we’re all going now, to beat the rush for cabs. You ready?’ Izzy asked as politely as she could because she knew Nadine’s reaction could go either way. Her sister-in-law was even more drunk than she had been in Mudgee at the wake. Izzy looked to Veronica for help and she took her cue. A brilliant mother-wanting-to-fix-the-problem!

  ‘Nadine love, can we share a cab? I know it’s out of your way but I don’t want to go by myself.’

  ‘Anything for you, Vee, you know I love you.’ Nadine wriggled out of Izzy’s hold and put her arms around Veronica’s neck, declaring in slurred words her unconditional love for her tidda. ‘Sometimes I think they don’t like me cos I’m white. Do you ever feel that?’ Nadine whispered loud enough for all the women to hear.

  Xanthe just shook her head, Ellen was ready to slap her and Izzy threw a growling look at her brother, as if the whole situation was his fault.

  ‘Let’s go,’ Izzy said through gritted teeth.

  ‘Where are you?’ Ellen was annoyed as she sent a text to Xanthe and Veronica the next morning. ‘Bloody hell, I’m the one with the hangover and even I can make it on time. These tiddas hardly even fucken drink. Imagine how late they’d be if they did.’

  ‘Too funny,’ Izzy said, grateful that she didn’t have a hangover. She was looking forward to a huge breakfast. Izzy had started enjoying eating for two.

  Ellen held her head. ‘I think I’m dying. I need coffee.’ She looked around the courtyard for anyone that resembled a waitress.

  ‘Do you think Nadine will turn up?’ she asked, eyes closed, head throbbing.

  ‘Highly unlikely. My brother doesn’t get wild that often, and hardly ever with her, but he was furious last night.’ Izzy was sending a text to Richard as she spoke. ‘I doubt he’ll be driving her anywhere today.’ She hit send and waited for a reply.

  ‘Hey, sorry I’m late,’ Veronica said, ‘had trouble parking.’

  ‘Me too,’ Xanthe added as she appeared at the same time.

  ‘Sit, order, eat!’ Ellen was in a bad way. ‘We were just wondering if Nadine would make it.’

  ‘I sent her a text this morning, but nothing back.’ Veronica sounded disappointed.

  ‘Me too,’ Xanthe said as she browsed the menu.

  ‘She’ll probably be sleeping it off, like I should be.’ Ellen waved over a waitress. ‘You girls ready to order?’

  Ellen ordered the brioche French toast, Canadian bacon, caramelised banana, candied pecans and maple syrup, and as soon as the waitress left the table, she ran to the bathroom to throw up. She was a health fanatic most of the time so her body was no longer equipped for late nights or too many glasses of bubbly. At least she felt better after her spew. Hopefully she could keep her breakfast down when it finally arrived. As she sat back down, the discussion was still focused on Nadine.

  ‘An intervention,’ Xanthe said softly, deeply concerned about the health of her tidda, but conscious of this strategy being a big step. It would involve naming Nadine’s problem. ‘I think we need to do it. Mudgee, last night, every other book club night she’s seriously out of control.’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Veronica said, knowing that Nadine would see any interference as a judgement on her. ‘Surely there’s another way.’

  ‘What though?’

  ‘An intervention on a whitefella, it’s a novel idea if nothing else,’ Ellen chimed in.

  ‘Can you be serious, please?’ Izzy rested her hand on her growing belly.

  ‘Yes, I think we need to do something for sure. In the first instance though, she has a husband. I think you should speak to your brother, Izzy, and see how we can support him to support her.’

  ‘I agree.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘That’s a plan.’

  The women answered in turn, and Izzy nodded. It was time to try to fix the unfixable.

  Ellen’s phone beeped for the tenth time in as many minutes.

  ‘What the hell is going on over there?’ Izzy asked.

  ‘It’s a guy I met last week running along the river, builder and wannabe rugger bugger. Hot, I mean hot!’ She licked her finger and stuck it in the air and made a sizzling sound.

  ‘And?’ Xanthe asked, already knowing the answer.

  ‘Best sex, I mean best safe sex of my life!’ she exclaimed. ‘Made me want to have a cigarette afterwards.’

  ‘But you don’t smoke,’ Veronica said.

  ‘I know, that’s how good it was though. Had to just wait a while and then suck on something else. At least it couldn’t give me lung cancer.’ The girls groaned but Ellen thought she was being funny, again.

  ‘Do you have anything else in common, other than your shared desire for sexual fulfilment?’ Izzy asked with her interviewer voice.

  ‘We both think he’s hot.’

  Ellen had been incredulous at the amount of time Craig spent in the bathroom grooming himself when he was just going to work. She’d never met a bloke who lingered so long in front of the mirror, used more hair product than she did, and splurged more money on waxing than would ever be acceptable.

  ‘I’m sure we’ll find more things in common when we speak again,’ Ellen smiled as she sent off another text message.

  ‘Does he like poetry?’ Xanthe asked, aware of Ellen’s love of Aboriginal poetry in particular.

  ‘Oh God, can he even read?’ Izzy squealed.

  ‘He reads the sports pages,’ Ellen laughed. ‘I’m not looking for a man to read poetry to me, I can read that to myself.’

  ‘You can also do the other yourself,’ Veronica said, to the shock of her tiddas whose eyes widened and brows raised as smiles crept across their faces. ‘Well, she can!’

  ‘He’s texting me so I’m sure he can read.’ Ellen could hear herself getting defensive as she held up the phone to prove that some words had indeed come through. ‘He wants me to send some photos of myself.’

  ‘What kind of photos?’ Veronica asked innocently.

  But before Ellen could respond Xanthe jumped in. ‘DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT ever send him photos of yourself. You saw what happened to Lara Bingle. Seriously, men in football simply cannot be trusted.’

  ‘Look, I don’t have unsafe sex and I’d never send nude shots of myself. God, I shudder to think what must go around in your mind about me sometimes.’

  The following week flew by and before they knew it the tiddas were meeting and eating again – this time at an upmarket Japanese restaurant down at Eagle Street Pier. Food, books, family . . . these were the three ingredients that bound them together. Well, for most of the time.

  The sun was warm for a July day, and Izzy and Ellen enjoyed the river ride from West End and Kangaroo Point. Richard had picked up Veronica on the way. It was her birthday, she should not have to drive, Nadine had instructed him. The scene at the NAIDOC Ball had been all but forgotten, at least by Nadine.

  ‘God, I love birthdays,’ Ellen said, looking at the pile of pressies at one end of the long wooden table. ‘Ribbon, cake, bubbly, we should have more days like this.’

  ‘Now, that I will drink to,’ Nadine said, holding up her glass as the banquet began to arrive.

  ‘Did we order already?’ Veronica asked, confused.

  ‘Love, this is my birthday present to you. You know I don’t do dust collectors, but I do do food. I hope you don’t mind, I ordered us a banquet.’ She turned to one of the waiters delivering food to the table. ‘We’ll also have a bottle of your best saké, please,’ she instructed.

  ‘This is amazing, Nadine. Wow!’ Veronica’s eyes could not have opened any wider as oyster shots and pork nikogori were followed by a large selection of sashimi, spanner crab tamago tofu, mushroom tempura and wagyu tataki.

  ‘What, there’s more?’ Xanthe said, as the waiter put a platter of grilled eel on the table.

  ‘And this is Japanese sansho pepper, wasabi and grated daikon,’ he said to the wide-eyed women.

  The tiddas were soon all happi
ly full to the brim.

  ‘I cannot eat another thing!’ Izzy said. ‘And I didn’t even try everything!’

  ‘You’re eating for two, remember,’ Veronica said.

  ‘I know but I’ve been suffering from congestion and between the nasal strips and nose spray I’d really like to lessen the chance of getting it today.’

  Izzy thought back to the night before when she felt the baby moving. She had described the sensation, which she could only interpret as butterflies fluttering and a tickling, bubbling feeling, for Asher. She couldn’t believe the months of sleepless nights with anxiety had turned into nights of sharing a new life growing inside her.

  ‘But, there’s suika watermelon coming; it’s jelly, sorbet, mousse and marshmallow.’ Nadine had really checked out the menu. She seemed less animated and more interested in food than drink today too, which the others were all happy about. Maybe her behaviour had altered after the warning from her mother-in-law and the scene at the ball.

  ‘Excuse me for a moment, will you?’ Ellen got up from the table.

  ‘Off to ring that fella, are you?’ Izzy asked.

  ‘What?’ Ellen seemed preoccupied. ‘No,’ she frowned.

  ‘Time for presents then,’ Izzy said, reaching for a box wrapped in pink with silver ribbon billowing down the sides. ‘As soon as I saw these, and I knew you were serious about your artwork, I had to get them for you. I hope you like them.’

  Veronica looked like a young child getting her first shiny bike on Christmas Day. She unwrapped the parcel carefully, slowly revealing the Japanese printing blocks Izzy had bought at the markets one Friday night after work.

  ‘And here’s mine,’ Xanthe said, handing Vee a wooden box that had been wrapped in lime green tissue paper and secured with a raffia bow.

  ‘I am seriously lucky, thank you,’ Veronica said.

  ‘You haven’t opened it yet,’ Nadine laughed.

  ‘I’m lucky just to be here, with you girls, eating, drinking, getting presents.’ She peeled the paper off gently and opened the box to find a necklace and pendant.