‘Does that mean they will release names?’ I asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Anton said. ‘But I can find out. Maybe we could convince that detective not to give yours out.’
‘Oh, Anton!’ I grasped his arm and briefly buried my face in his shoulder. ‘It’s just Mum and Dad and Louise and . . . oh God, Gran, and . . .’ He patted my shoulder and laughed quietly.
‘You don’t have to explain to me. I come from Manella. I know what you mean.’
Anton dropped me off at Canning Street at about five that evening. I walked in to find Jude washing the dishes. She turned around, smiled and said hello. I nodded coldly, not meeting her eye, and after putting on the kettle left the kitchen for the lounge. I would wait there; then make my drink and take it up to my room. It was dark and cold in the lounge room, and untidy. Piles of newspapers and CD covers cluttered the floor and a few grimy cups half-filled with coffee sat on the table. I recognised them as the ones Kara and I had used the day before. Or was it the day before that? Kara’s stale cigarette smoke was still in the atmosphere. I pushed the curtains aside and raised the window to let in some fresh air. Then I turned on the heater and stood in front of it, warming my hands. An ache hit my chest as I remembered Jules. Would he be sitting in that lovely old-fashioned flat of his overlooking Royal Parade? Perhaps innocently drinking or eating something? No idea of the trouble about to hit him. Or would they have him already? A guilty lump formed in my throat as I imagined him being arrested.
‘A friend of yours came around.’ Jude poked her head around the door. I’d forgotten about her even being there, I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts.
‘Who?’ I said stupidly, not looking at her. I don’t have any friends.
‘A guy called Jordan,’ she said. I shuddered. The sound of his name was enough. Jude must have noticed. ‘Is he your boyfriend?’ she asked curiously. I gave a dry laugh.
‘Not exactly,’ I said shortly, trying to ward off the image of him in the cream linen shirt, a gold chain around his neck, and those shiny slip-on shoes. ‘He’s just someone I know.’
‘That’s good,’ she said lightly. ‘Because I didn’t like him much.’ She paused. ‘I thought you said he was a photographer?’ I looked up, startled. ‘Ages ago,’ she smiled, as though reading my thoughts. ‘Remember, you showed them to me. The photographs.’ I nodded coldly.
‘Did you decide to go ahead with it?’ she asked.
‘No, I’ve decided not to . . .’ I said.
‘Oh, why?’ she asked. I shrugged and looked away. I wasn’t about to spill the beans to her. We hadn’t been friendly for weeks. She sat on one end of the couch, then let herself slide down on her bottom, her legs sticking up over the arm of the chair like a little kid’s. Both hands were clasped over her stomach.
‘Ah, well,’ she said softly. ‘He acted as if he was your boyfriend. He seemed put out about something. A photograph of you in the paper today or something?’
‘What?’
‘I couldn’t work out what he was talking about,’ she said.
I stared back at her, a rush of rage hammering through my head.
That would be right. Jordan would see that! He wouldn’t know if I’d had a fatal accident or died of a broken heart, but he’d be sure to see me in the paper making a fool of myself.
‘He said he saw me in the paper?’ I asked.
‘Yeah. Something like that,’ Jude said. ‘Hey, Katerina, what’s up?’
It was the way she said it. Kindly, just one person to another. The solid wall of defiance I’d built up began to crumble in my chest. I felt this incredible need to tell, to confess, to ask advice.
‘I’m in trouble,’ I said.
‘What for?’
I shut my eyes. Where did I begin?
‘Different stuff,’ I said, turning to watch her reaction. ‘Drugs . . . possession of drugs that weren’t mine. And with Jordan. I don’t know where to begin about him.’ Her face didn’t change at all except to frown.
‘How do you mean?’
I suppose it took me less than five minutes to tell her everything. She was quiet as I spoke, and for a while afterwards, and then she whistled, a low, deep, melodious whistle. And that made me smile.
‘Katerina,’ she said. ‘You are in trouble.’
‘I know,’ I whispered. ‘I keep thinking of my parents . . . and then of Jules. My career . . . I mean, I don’t think I want to end up a suburban lawyer, but I want to have a choice, you know. . .’
‘You don’t seem like someone who would ever be involved with drugs,’ she said. ‘You seem so . . . intelligent.’
‘Don’t be so superior!’
‘I’m not. It’s just that it’s hard to imagine you mixed up with drugs . . .’
‘Yes, you are!’ I snapped. ‘Carmel once said I was superior. Do you remember? But that’s wrong. It’s you two. You’ve both got everything sewn up, haven’t you?’
‘What do you mean?’ She looked bewildered.
‘Yesterday, for example,’ I fumed. ‘I said good morning to you and you closed the door in my face!’ Jude frowned.
‘So why did you arrange for that friend of yours to get it on with Anton,’ she snapped back. ‘I mean why? When you know what Carmel’s like. How much she loves him!’
‘Oh God!’ I shook my head. ‘I didn’t. I didn’t arrange it! I had nothing to do with it.’
‘Bloody bad luck the brick didn’t hit ’em both,’ she said angrily. I gasped and stared at her. But she didn’t have to say anything else.
‘God!’ I exclaimed. ‘I mean . . . what did Carmel think she was doing!’
Jude gave a quick laugh. ‘She knew exactly what she was doing!’
I shut my mouth and looked away. I think I was impressed in spite of myself. Throwing that brick would have taken a bit of inner fire. I remembered hearing her sing. How deep and strong she had sounded.
It’s called ‘clearing the air’, I suppose. Jude explained how angry she’d been when she’d seen Carmel so hurt by Anton and Kara, and I got a lot off my chest too. About her and Carmel. I admitted being jealous at the same time as being wildly annoyed with both of them. I came clean about the way I felt about all their dirty dishes and the fact that they didn’t even try to keep the bathroom tidy. And the way they’d stop talking when I came into the room. It felt good to bring it all out in the open. Just sitting there in the red glow from the heater, talking, as the darkness grew around us.
‘But how did you first get involved with them? Jules and Jordan?’ Jude was lying flat on her stomach on the floor, her face turned away from me, her voice muffled.
I sighed, closed my eyes, and threw my head back.
‘How did you meet them?’ she asked quietly. I shrugged and tried to remember.
Glen Simons. He’d been the first I’d met in that crowd, I suppose. And he’d introduced me to Jordan, and Jules had been hanging around the same scene. The first time I’d ever seen Glen was when I’d gone out with Kara. She’d been invited out to Stacey’s nightclub and wanted me to come along too. It was about the third week of university. We were the youngest there and were both immediately impressed; everyone was cool and hard in the way we both liked. All the men were eyeing us off. I loved that too. I was holding my own in this ultra-hip crowd. Kara and I both danced and drank a fair bit that night. Some guy invited me to the races the following Saturday, then offered me a hit of speed, which I declined. Everyone assumed they’d see us again soon. It was three in the morning by the time I left, and by that time Kara had disappeared. An older man approached me. Would I like a lift home? I liked his baggy, well-cut suit, his sophistication, the lines around his eyes. I liked his shiny Jag, too, and the way he opened the door for me. Outside my house he’d asked for my number and told me in a rather offhand way that I was the most beautiful girl he’d seen in a long time. I smiled. He seemed refined, good-looking . . . and sincere. I liked it that he was older. At the door he put a hand under my chin and swivell
ed my face around. I thought he was going to kiss me. But he was just looking at me.
‘My name’s Glen,’ he said softly.
‘I know,’ I said.
‘You could go a long way with a face like that,’ he said.
‘I know,’ I answered. That made him laugh. He cupped my face in his hard hands and kissed me briefly on the mouth. Then he smiled and walked back to his car. I remember thinking, He’s right. And I will too. I’ll get whatever I want.
‘At a nightclub . . . earlier this year.’ I said, looking at Jude.
‘But I thought . . . Carmel and I thought . . .’ She sat up properly and laughed. ‘You seemed to move in such a classy crowd!’
‘Yeah . . .’
‘But, I mean, are they all into . . . porno calendars or what?’ she exclaimed.
‘It’s not porn,’ I said hotly. ‘It’s just . . . I thought I could handle it. I liked the attention. And I was . . .’ I stopped. I had never had such a frank conversation before. It was alarming. I was admitting everything to someone I had no reason to trust. What if I had nothing left when this conversation was over?
‘What?’ she said.
‘I was off my head a lot of the time,’ I said in a small voice. ‘What, on pills?’
‘Yeah.’
The phone began to ring. Neither of us got up to answer it. The room had got very dark. I could hardly see Jude’s face. A branch on the birch tree began to scrape the side window. Only the low hiss and red glow from the heater warmed the strange atmosphere. I covered my burning face with both hands and wished I could cry.
Moments passed. Then there was a hand on my shoulder. Just one hand, warm and firm.
‘I’m sorry,’ Jude said softly. ‘You’re right. I.. . . Well, both Carmel and I. We didn’t give you a chance.’
The phone began to ring again. This time I got up and answered it.
‘Is that you, Katerina?’ It was my mother, sounding peeved.
‘Yes. Hi, Mum.’ I tried to come across as bright and in control.
She was very good at picking up if anything was wrong. ‘Darling, where have you been?’
‘I’ve just come in,’ I lied.
‘Louise said you didn’t look well,’ she said accusingly. I sighed.
‘Well, I’m fine, Mum, honestly,’ I said. Trust Louise, I thought. Home for four days and already running the show again.
‘Well . . .’ she went on. ‘Isn’t it simply wonderful news about Lou? Daddy and I are thrilled.’
‘Yeah,’ I lied. ‘It’s terrific. What’s he like?’
‘Oh, he’s lovely! Very handsome, very French. I think he’s good for Louise. He likes to laugh and you know how serious she can get.’ There was a pause while we each waited for the other to speak. ‘And you’re coming up to meet him at the weekend,’ she said, more as a statement than a question.
‘Oh, I don’t know, Mum.’ I suddenly didn’t want to comply with their neat little plans. I was overcome with a contrary need to be the fly in their ointment. Louise had always called the shots, and I was sick of it. ‘I will if I can. I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on and . . .’
‘Katerina, we’ll be devastated if you can’t come!’ she cut in.
‘Well, I’ll try,’ I said.
‘And I’ve got some bad news too, darling,’ she said. I closed my eyes and began to tap two fingers on the wall. If I had to listen to a whole lot of stuff about people I hardly knew, I’d scream. My mother was always ringing up about someone. Would you go and see old Mrs Herbert in hospital? I know it’s an effort, but . . . Auntie Jean has broken her arm. Would you call in on her?
‘What?’ I snapped.
‘Katerina, what is the matter with you?’ she asked. I took a deep breath and contemplated telling her.
Oh nothing much, Mummy. I’ve just been charged with possession of drugs. I may have wrecked my future career. Then again, I may have saved it by lagging on a good friend who has been nothing but kind to me.
And this photographer guy who more or less raped me has got these soft-core porn shots of me. He’s putting the pressure on to publish them. I know if I say no he’ll try and use them against me in some way. So all I can do is pray my name won’t hit the papers, Mum. For all our sakes, eh?
‘Are you keeping up?’ she said.
‘What?’
‘With your work. I hope you’re not wasting time.’
‘Yes. I’m keeping up.’
‘You’re going to pass your exams?’
‘Of course.’
‘Oh, good girl. And you’re eating properly?’
‘Yes!’
‘Now, look, that little girl you share your house with?’ I turned around to where Jude was still lying on the couch. ‘Which one?’ I said lowering my voice.
‘The McCaffrey girl.’
‘Carmel,’ I said. ‘What about her?’
‘Her mother is very ill.’
‘Really?’ This was unexpected. I hadn’t seen Carmel for days. I looked around as though she might suddenly appear and tell me my mother was exaggerating.
‘Has she said anything?’
‘No,’ I answered. ‘But I haven’t seen her much lately. I mean, how sick is she?’
‘Well . . . she’s dying, darling,’ my mother said slowly. ‘Of cancer. So do be careful, won’t you?’
‘How do you mean?’ I said stupidly. ‘I mean what can I do?’ My mother gave an impatient sigh.
‘Nothing, of course. Just be kind. That’s why I’m ringing.’
‘Okay. Thanks, Mum.’
‘Now, we expect you on Friday?’
‘If I can, Mum.’
‘See you then.’
‘Did you know Carmel’s mother is sick?’ I asked Jude.
‘Yeah. She went home yesterday morning,’ she replied. ‘With her brother.’
‘God, that’s terrible!’ I said. ‘How many kids are there?’
‘Seven,’ Jude answered. ‘One brother older than Carmel, three a bit younger, fourteen, sixteen and seventeen, and then there’s the twins . . .’
‘How old are they?’ I asked.
‘Eight, I think,’ Jude said. Her voice had gone husky. I didn’t look at her, but I was suddenly shocked and very moved. I think Jude was too.
After a while Jude sat up.
‘Listen. If you’re going home, why don’t you come with us?’ she asked.
‘You’re going back for the weekend?’
‘Yeah. A friend of mine, Declan, has a car. He’s going to drive the three of us. Declan, Annie and me. We all want to see Carmel,’ she said. ‘We can drop you off at your parents’ place if you like.’
‘Okay,’ I said slowly. ‘Thanks. I’ll do that.’
So it was back to Manella. Apart from a few weekends here and there I’d hardly been home all year, much to my parents’ disappointment. I rang my mother back that night.
‘I’ll be coming home definitely on Friday night,’ I said apologetically.
She was so pleased that a fresh wave of guilt flooded me.
‘That’s wonderful, darling! Daddy and I will be thrilled to see you! Jean-Paul is anxious to meet you, too. It will be lovely to have the whole family home together again.’
‘Okay then. See you Friday.’
‘Anything wrong?’
‘Of course not,’ I said.
I put the phone down and knew I’d have my work cut out keeping my state of mind from her.
IN SPITE OF THE FACT THAT JUDE AND HER friends were quite friendly to me, the four-hour trip to Manella with them was very strange. I met the others and got into the car determined to use the time to think through my own problems. But it was impossible. After a while their conversation invaded my thoughts, and I had to listen. Political detainees, government policy, human rights! They were so involved with all this stuff I’d never even thought about. So deeply interested. Anyone could be forgiven for thinking they were organising World War Three! All the plans and strategies. There would
be some demonstration against the Indonesian military in the city square in a few months’ time, and a campaign against some milk company operating in Africa next year. The talk was so intense, full of teasing and loud laughter. It made me feel that we’d been living on different planets all year.
After a while they got on to Jude’s predicament. I was sitting in the back seat looking out the window and trying to work out what they were talking about. Annie turned around to me at one stage.
‘Katerina, did you know that Jude is going to get advice about whether she can prosecute Orlando?’ she said.
‘Who is Orlando?’ I asked. Declan and Annie looked at Jude. Jude looked at me.
‘He’s one of the men who ordered my father’s execution in Chile,’ she said curtly. ‘He owns a restaurant in Melbourne.’
‘Oh,’ was all I could manage. Once again I had the distinct impression that they were living in a different world from me. Their talk, the casual laughter, and the warmth they felt for each other seemed to circulate around the car like a current. And it made me feel more alone than ever.
We eventually arrived in the town. I felt strangely bereft, knowing that I’d soon be leaving the closeness and security of the car and its occupants. It would all go on without me. I gave directions to Declan, who was driving. Everyone slowly quietened as the little car began to wind its way up the hill towards our house, which was ablaze with yellow lights. Declan was about to stop out the front, but I pointed out the track leading up and around to the back. The house itself was hardly visible in the darkness, just the light blasting out from behind the tall trees and hedges. It looked like a castle from a kids’ picture book. Dark and gloomy, big and wonderful.
‘It’s a lovely place,’ Annie said quietly.
‘Yes,’ I said, knowing that I would normally have been pleased with her comment. But this night I wished my family had a more ordinary home. I wished for a house that they might all have felt easy about coming into for a quick cup of something before they went on their way.
‘Would you like to come in?’ I said, knowing they wouldn’t.
‘Nah, thanks,’ Jude said quickly. ‘Thanks, but Mum’s expecting us.’ She got out and helped me get my bag out of the boot.
Queen Kat, Carmel and St Jude Get a Life Page 35