I crouch beside her. ‘What are you doing here, Karen?’
No answer. I glance at Mum. Quietly she puts down the shopping and sits on the front step next to Karen.
As Mum puts her arm around her, Karen rests on Mum’s shoulder. I take Karen’s hand and whisper, ‘What’s wrong?’ We just sit and wait until Karen decides to move. Slowly she gets up. Mum unlocks the door. Karen follows us inside.
‘Are you all right?’ Mum asks softly. Karen nods. ‘Would you like to stay tonight?’
‘I’d like that.’
Eddie pokes his head out of the kitchen. I wave him away. Mum quickly goes up to him and whispers something. He gets the hint.
As Karen and I go to my bedroom, I hear Mum on the phone speaking to Karen’s father. ‘The girls need to practise their trumpet,’ Mum improvises. ‘We’d love her to stay the night.’
I put on music and we lie on my bed listening. Karen closes her eyes and the blotches gradually fade from her face. I wait. It’s ten minutes before she slowly sits up. She searches for a brush in her bag. With slow long strokes, she untangles her hair.
‘Do you want to talk?’ I quietly ask.
‘Yes.’ Then there’s silence for another five minutes. She finishes brushing her hair. The spikes have disappeared and her hair glints in the light. She presses her lips together. ‘Dad took us out for lunch today. A small heritage hotel right across the road from the parklands. There were yellow leaves floating to the ground and fat birds hopping on the tables. It was beautiful. We sat outside. Dad ordered crab and champagne. He even gave me a glass of it. He said that he had something special for me. A special gift. That woman grinned like a Cheshire cat. She never grins at me. She was grinning so much that I thought her face would break in two. I was thinking that maybe Dad was buying me a car to encourage me to keep up my school marks. Except why would she be happy about that? I’d love a car. I’d love him, at least for a day, if he gave me a car.’
‘So it wasn’t a car?’
‘No.’ Karen slurs the ‘No’, filling the bedroom with its sound. ‘But it’s for me. Only me. Because he loves me so much and wants me to be happy.’ She pauses. ‘You want to know what the present is? The best present in the whole world.’ Her sarcasm tears the air. ‘That bitch is having a baby.’ She stops again. ‘They know the sex already. A girl. A stepsister. Someone to replace me. Someone that woman will teach to hate me, because I’m not her daughter. Mum already knew but she’s said nothing. Nothing. Well, that’s me, isn’t it? Nothing.’ Karen whispers haltingly, ‘My mother didn’t tell me. When did she forget me? How did she forget?’ Her voice cracks as she falls into my arms. ‘I feel. Alone.’
‘You’re not alone, Karen.’ I hold her. ‘I’m here for you.’
Chapter Eleven
Last night becomes hidden inside Karen, like always. For now, anyway.
I should have done this before. I’ve known the music shop has been short-staffed for a while. On the weekend I phone my boss. He says to bring Karen in straight away for an interview. Karen cries when I tell her. I feel guilty for not doing it earlier. I was selfish, scared that she’d wreck the job for me—not turn up, or come in with a hangover. But Karen wouldn’t, and even if she did…I should’ve spoken to him earlier.
I wait outside the office while she’s interviewed. My boss nods at me, then rushes off to help at the counter.
‘Well? Well? Did you get it?’ I whisper, as I drag Karen out of the shop.
‘Yes, yes,’ she sparkles. ‘And I get to listen to music all night.’
‘And get free sample CDs,’ I pretend to dance.
‘Thank you, Pip. Thank you.’
Karen does a training session on Saturday afternoon. She’s rostered on for two nights a week and has signed on for more shifts if they’re available. Her parents and step-parents approve and Karen has somewhere real to hide.
She’s determined to save up for the Breakers Festival, now that she has real money. She doesn’t have to steal from her father’s wallet any more, although she still does.
She’s harassing everyone. ‘It’s going to be fantastic. We have to be there. Not Perfect has to be there.’
I laugh. ‘Sure, sure. This year or next.’ I wish we could go. I really want to, but persuading my father would be too hard. If it was only Mum, it wouldn’t be as bad, but Dad? He’s home more, so I can’t hide it easily. And how’d we get there?
Eddie pops into my head, except he won’t want to drive us, and would his car make it? I shrug. At least it’s a good thing for Karen to aim for, rather than the boys’ school.
Karen is like the old Karen when she’s at the music shop. She’s funny, smart, works hard. We do a shift together and the boss lets us choose the music. We laugh so much when we put on Angie’s favourite, ‘Love Is In The Air’.
Today’s the day. Karen is seventeen. She’s standing at the front gate when I arrive at school. As we walk towards our classes, we talk about the school concert, bands, the music shop, ignore exams and parents. We’ve got Maths this morning. Wish the exams were already here. Then they’d be over sooner.
‘Do you know what day it is?’ Karen hints as she turns towards her classroom.
‘Wednesday. Got to talk to Angie,’ I say quickly, running towards Angie. I call out, ‘See you at morning break. In the Music Home Room.’
I’ve planned everything. Angie and I have a free lesson before morning break. We’re puffing madly, blowing up balloons, then racing around decorating the windows with streamers, laying out paper plates and serviettes in the alcove, the only permissible eating area. Musical instruments and food don’t go well together. Irina has left the apple cake her mother baked on the table. Angie is pinning up a flashy poster she’s made for Not Perfect.
Just before the bell goes, Mr Connelly arrives with orange drinks and his trumpet. We drag him inside the room.
‘Hey, hey, I’ll drop the drinks, Pip.’ He nearly stumbles.
‘Quiet,’ I whisper as everyone ducks into corners or behind desks.
The door bangs open. Karen looks around. Suddenly we jump up. ‘Happy birthday.’ Karen stands in the doorway, stunned.
We head for our spots. Irina’s on the drums. Angie and I are on guitars. Mr Connelly is ready with his trumpet. ‘Happy Birthday’ rings through the Music Home Room and the hallways of the Music Block. Other teachers and students come in. There are presents and cards and flowers. I light seventeen candles. ‘Blow, blow, blow,’ echoes through the room. Karen closes her eyes and wishes for a long time before she puffs out the candles.
‘Hey, birthday girl.’ I hand her a small wrapped box.
‘You bought me something, Pip?’
‘Of course.’ I hug her for a long time. I feel her body tremble.
She opens the present. I fasten the chain around her neck, fingering the silver sports car pendant. ‘I love it. I’ll be driving soon, you’ll see.’
‘I know.’
But I know Karen won’t be getting her driver’s licence soon. All those adults controlling her life, her parents and step-parent and de-facto step-parent, have discovered ‘tough love’, or abandonment. No licence, no birthday party, no place to call home. But we’re celebrating in the Music Home Room now and Karen’s laughing and Mr Connelly gives us written notes to excuse us from the next lesson as Not Perfect plays.
The whole day is a Karen day. We lie on the lawn at lunchtime and eat the rest of Karen’s birthday cake. I only have one slice. Karen has two. We work on our music arrangements in the afternoon.
She’s happy as she leaves school. Tonight there’s her birthday dinner with her father and she’s determined that it’s going to be all right. She touches her silver car pendant and waves goodbye to me.
I’m in bed when the phone rings. The call is late. Very late. It’s dark and I’m bleary eyed as I reach for my phone. ‘Karen?’
She’s breathless. ‘Dad…My bedroom…The baby…’
‘Where are you?’
‘Are you all right?’
She’s not. Her birthday dinner was a disaster. There was a meal, a cake, a present. Perfume Karen doesn’t wear and money in an envelope with a card. Then Karen went into her bedroom to put the perfume and envelope away.
‘That woman doesn’t want me here, that’s all. He can’t see it. All my father can see is himself. That’s all he’s ever seen. He couldn’t make it work with Mum, who’s soft. It’s working with that woman because she’s as selfish as he is.’
Karen babbles on disjointedly. I just listen. There’s even less room for Karen, now that woman is pregnant. I’ve seen the apartment. It’s filled to capacity with baby clothes and the baby’s not even born. That baby will have to be a newborn for ten years to wear them all.
There was a scene tonight. That woman had taken a wall of Karen’s room to stack the overflow of baby clothes and toys. ‘She didn’t even ask. There were all these new shelves blocking out my posters, my photos, our photos.’ Even the Kindergarten Kids were blocked out. When Karen saw what that woman had done, she threw the baby stuff into the lounge room and there was a huge argument. That ugly stepmother cried and Karen’s father was furious.
‘It’s my room, isn’t it?’ Karen had shouted.
‘No, it’s my apartment, and you do what you’re told in it,’ her father shouted back.
Karen’s crying on the end of the line. She knows now. Karen is officially homeless. She has a sofa bed in her mother’s terrace and a sleepover facility at her father’s place and beds at assorted friends’ places.
I don’t know what to say. My room is my private place. People come in by invitation, unless it’s Eddie, and I just throw him out again. Even Dad wouldn’t just take over my space. ‘How could that woman do that?’
‘It’s because I’m nothing to them, Pip.’
The next day Karen isn’t at school. I watch for her all morning. She misses Not Perfect practice.
Casually she saunters in after lunch. ‘Where’ve you been?’ She must know I’ve been worried.
‘Busy. I’ve got an absentee note.’ She flashes it in front of my nose.
It’s forged, of course. ‘Why did you even come to school?’
‘To put my note in. Don’t want any calls to Mum or Dad or that woman. I’m not going to any classes.’ She shakes her blonde hair and giggles. ‘I have a hot date today. A birthday present to me.’ This doesn’t sound good. ‘Dad doesn’t like this guy.’
‘Is that the reason you’re going out with him?’
‘No, Pip, it’s just an added bonus. I’m celebrating my birthday.’
A shiver runs down my spine. ‘Who’s the hot date? Josh?’ They’ve been playing a lot of trumpet and sax together. She won’t introduce him to me even though I’ve asked so many times.
‘Josh is just a friend, Pip. My jazz guy. No, it’s not him.’ She refuses to tell me the name of this hot date. It makes me nervous. ‘I like him. He likes me.’ She smiles. ‘A lot.’
‘So tell me his name.’
‘No. It’s my secret.’ Karen gives me a hug. ‘I’m going to have a great night.’
I hug her back too hard. ‘Be careful.’
‘I always am.’ She laughs. ‘You be careful too, Pip.’
I walk to the bus stop with Irina and Angie. They’re worried about Karen’s ‘hot date’ too. I refuse to think about it and block Karen out. We talk about new albums and new bands and Irina’s and my joint birthday party. Irina smiles about the birthday party. Apart from when she’s playing the drums, she rarely shows her emotions.
We have to work out invitations. Angie’s usually the first one to give party advice, but she’s quiet this afternoon.
‘Are you okay?’ I ask her.
Angie’s been playing the field since Christopher, but she saw Christopher’s football game yesterday. ‘Christopher…’ she mumbles.
Guilt over that stupid teddy bear shoots through me. Angie misses Christopher and it’s my fault they broke up. ‘There’ll be no guys at our party. Just girls. So we won’t have to worry about boys.’ I don’t mention Christopher’s name.
The bus arrives. I purposely sit behind Angie and Irina, who talk about the no-guy party. I don’t feel like talking and I’m glad to get off the bus. Karen—what’s she doing? It’s her seventeenth birthday and she’s celebrating with an unknown guy. I don’t expect a phone call from her tonight. I won’t call her either.
Morning. I had a rotten night’s sleep. Karen flitted in and out of my dreams. In the end I just gave up and started writing, listening to songs, waiting to get out of the house before Dad got up. Karen will probably skip school today, knowing her.
I’m wrong. She’s waving at me as I arrive.
‘Have you been waiting for me?’ She has. ‘So how was the birthday date?’ I slip in the question: ‘Who was the lucky guy?’
Karen is walking slowly. ‘I forget his name. He doesn’t matter. I’ve got news,’ she says with a strange twist in her voice.
‘All right, so what is it?’ Karen can hardly walk. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing, Pip. Well, something. It’s not wrong, it’s right.’
‘No games. Just tell me.’
‘I’ve done it. My birthday present to me.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘I didn’t go back to Mum’s or Dad’s place last night. I told Mum I was at Dad’s and Dad that I was at Mum’s. They don’t care. They just need to justify that they supposedly know where I am. In case anyone asks.’
We go into the bathroom. There’s only one girl in there, standing at a basin. She washes her hands, shaking them dry as she leaves. ‘So what happened?’
‘I got rid of it. And I’m glad.’ She pauses for effect. ‘Fourth base.’ She laughs. ‘No longer a virgin.’
‘Sex?’ I stammer. ‘Where? How? Karen, what are you talking about?’
‘It was in the Botanical Gardens. It was eerie there under the moonlight. I loved the red roses. I had three vodkas, maybe four, to get into the mood. I’m glad I did it. Afterwards we slept under the bushes all night, near a jasmine vine. I love the scent of jasmine. The air smelt sweet, even tasted sweet. There were so many stars, and a silver slice of moon in between the dark. Velvety dark.’
‘Karen, stop. Stop. Are you all right?’
‘I know what sex is now. It’s nothing,’ Karen scoffs. ‘It just hurts. I don’t know why guys think so much about it.’ She makes a face. ‘So I’m not a virgin any more. Don’t have to worry about it.’ Suddenly she giggles. ‘He looked so stupid doing it. The great and important captain of the A basketball team. Going in and out like a monkey. Then in a couple of minutes it was done. Who cares? Not me.’
‘I care, Karen.’ She looks fragile standing there against the stainless-steel basin with her hair cascading down her back.
‘That woman’s having Dad’s baby. So now I know how they did it. Big deal. They’re monkeys. I’m one too.’
‘In the bushes?’ We’re silent for ages. ‘Do you love him? Like him? Does he…’ I can’t say love. ‘Like you?’
‘He loved me when he was a monkey. Liked me when we were lying under the stars and moon. Afterwards? Maybe he does. Let’s see if he phones.’
‘Did he wear a condom?’
‘I think he did. That’s too practical for me.’ Karen splashes water onto her face. ‘I’ve got burning.’ She looks up with a dripping face, holding her stomach.
‘Badly?’
She nods. I take her hand. She smiles at me and I feel sadness. Is it hers? Mine?
Carefully we weave past classes, dodging the occasional student or teacher rushing somewhere. I message Irina and Angie that we won’t be at school today. ‘Explain later,’ I write. I ring the school office and lie to them that Mum’s car has broken down and that Karen and I will be late or maybe not arrive. I’ll explain it to Mum later.
We walk to the bus stop around the corner from scho
ol, then wait for the bus. Eventually it comes chugging up the hill and we head for the back seat. The bus driver gives us a critical look. He knows we’re skipping school.
Karen can hardly make it to my front door. I call out, ‘Is anyone here?’ Just checking. The house is empty as expected. Mum must be at work. Dad is at work. Eddie’s at school.
Pink and white lilies with yellow pollen overflow from a vase on the lounge room table. Everything smells sweet. I think of jasmine as I fossick through the medicine cupboard. Mum has cream for cystitis, and painkillers. The ‘girls’ shelf’, as Mum calls it. I force Karen to drink lots of water. She disappears into the bathroom. I put on a CD and slump onto my bed. Karen looks pale when she comes back. ‘I feel better, and I’m still glad I did it, Pip.’
‘You don’t look better.’ I’m not glad for her.
Guys. I saw Oliver the other day. Did I ever really like him? I waved at him because he’s no-one to me any more. I don’t feel anger, anticipation, excitement. Just relief that he’s not in my life. I miss having arms around me, but not his arms.
Karen is getting colour back into her face. I force her to drink more water. ‘I’m going to turn into a fountain.’ She holds her stomach. ‘If you press, I’ll squirt.’
‘Squirt, then. As long as you’re really better.’
‘I am, Pip.’ Her eyes glaze over with a bluey film, like the sea. Is Karen drowning?
We listen to music for a while, then wander into the kitchen. It’s full of Mum comfort food. I make cheese and tomato sandwiches and Karen squeezes oranges. No one is here. No one can bother us. We think music. Talk music. Feel music. I turn on the CD player. Passages of Living and Dying rocks through the room. We sing along with Billy.
We’re born to die in between
The loving and hating and
Sex, clinging to each other or not
And the lies and lying
And then there’s you
My friend, my soul, my everything.
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