Queen Kat, Carmel and St Jude Get a Life

by Maureen McCarthy

  ‘Well, I certainly didn’t take my clothes off and get my picture taken,’ Vince said lightly. ‘That’s for sure! Or get caught with pills.’

  ‘Oh my God!’ I gasped, and put my face into my hands. ‘How did you . . . ? Who told you that?’

  ‘That little mate of yours, Jude.’ Vince laughed. ‘She’s got the biggest mouth!’

  Desperation, like a flood of stale black water, rose in my chest. I turned away from him, my face hidden in my hands, wishing that I could cry, but knowing I was too miserable for that, too churned up, too boiling with misery.

  ‘Hey, come on,’ he said gently, putting a hand on my shoulder. ‘It’s nothing.’

  I gasped a couple of times and then dived into my pocket for a hanky.

  ‘Oh, yeah, nothing,’ I said grimly and blew my nose. ‘According to my father, I’ve wrecked the family. My sister doesn’t want to go ahead with her wedding because she’s so ashamed . . .’

  ‘Well, that’s her bad luck, isn’t it?’ he said, looking straight at me. ‘They’ll come around! She’ll have the wedding. What’s a few pills . . . a few friggin’ stupid pictures in the whole scheme of things? Hey?’ I couldn’t help laughing a little through my humiliation.

  ‘And it’s over now,’ he went on. ‘The worst has happened . . .’

  ‘But no,’ I whispered. ‘It might not be . . .’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘The guy who sent that photo off has still got the negatives . . . he might try and use them again.’

  ‘What? Has he threatened you?’

  ‘Oh yeah.’

  Vince was quiet for a bit, frowning. I put my hanky away and rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand. I turned to him after a while.

  ‘But what does your lawyer say?’ he asked.

  ‘All she can do is threaten to take him to court,’ I said in a low voice. ‘But I don’t want it publicised. I mean, what if one of those papers gets hold of the other pictures . . . while the case is on? My charge might change. It might never end.’ My voice trailed off miserably.

  Vince stood up. I thought he was going to go back inside, but he was thinking. He pushed his hands deeply into his pockets, and walked around on the grass in front of me, kicking out every now and again with the toe of his boot.

  ‘Well, that’s not on,’ he said after a while.

  ‘What?’ I said.

  ‘Can’t let him do that,’ he said stiffly. ‘Shit, that’s . . .’

  ‘Yeah, but how can I.. . .’ I shrugged. ‘How can I stop him?’

  He bent down and picked up a twig that was lying in the grass, stared down at it intently for a few moments, and then methodically began to break it into tiny pieces.

  ‘I got mates,’ he said. ‘We’ll go and see him.’

  ‘See him?’ I repeated stupidly. Vince grinned at me.

  ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘We’ll pay him a visit . . . after . . .’ His face clouded over and he looked back at the house. ‘After the funeral.’ I nodded. ‘Give the bastard a hard time, take the stuff . . .’ He sat down next to me again. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘We’ll fix it. I got a mate in Melbourne. He knows how to fix up those kinds of mongrels.’

  ‘Really?’ I wanted to ask him more. Who exactly was this mate? What exactly were they going to do?

  ‘Yeah,’ he said emphatically, beginning to scrape the bark off a bit of twig with his fingernail.

  ‘God . . . I don’t know, Vince . . .’ I mumbled.

  ‘You don’t have to.’ He flicked the last of the pieces of twig away and then stood up again, ‘Just don’t worry about it. I better get in again,’ he said. ‘See how the kids are doing.’

  But just at that moment we heard the crush of rubber on gravel and around the corner of the house purred a shiny grey undertaker’s car and the local ambulance.

  I saw the shock on Vince’s face as he remembered his mother lying dead in the front room. The awful cold shock. His face screwed up in intense pain, his wide shoulders heaved and there was one terrible sob, then he slumped forward, head against the verandah post, both tight fists banging on it angrily. I got up and put my arm around his waist.

  ‘I can’t believe it.’ He groaned. ‘I can’t believe she’s gone . . . forever . . . and ever and ever . . .’ Tears were splashing down his cheeks.

  The car door slammed and a middle-aged man in grey walked sombrely towards us. I kept holding Vince, glad to be there, to be of use to someone.

  MANELLA – OCTOBER

  HUGE SHOWERS OF SPARKS FLEW UP INTO the black sky, illuminating for a few brief seconds all the dark shapes of the trees and hills all around. The firelight danced over faces, hands and the clinking glasses. So much laughter and talking; perhaps fifteen people trying to make themselves heard above the roar of the enormous burning logs, the spitting and crackling. Above it all, the great silent dome of bright stars.

  They were in luck. The end of October and it was a clear night with hardly any wind.

  ‘Here’s to everything, Vince! To your mother!’

  ‘Yep. Here’s to Nance!’

  ‘Nance!’ The glasses rose as one.

  ‘And Carmel. You gunna sing?’

  ‘Later!’ she laughed. ‘I’ll sing later.’

  What a crazy, wonderful idea to light the bonfire that night. After the funeral in the morning, and the wake that went on forever, the rosary the night before and the endless stream of visitors, all those relatives and neighbours and the countless cups of tea. The handshakes and kisses. The mound of clods covered in flowers, the priest in his lace and gold sprinkling incense, and everyone finally walking away. Away. Leaving her there in the ground.

  The funeral had been at eleven, and at around three in the afternoon, when the huge turn at the hall next to the church was finishing up, Vince had begun to sound people out about when they were going back to town.

  ‘You want to stay another night?’ he asked Eduardo. ‘We’re having a bonfire down by the creek. We’ve been clearing some scrub over the last few weeks with the old man. It’d be a good time to get rid of it.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Faces livened up at the idea. ‘That’d be good.’

  ‘Juan, Declan and Annie. How about it? It’ll be fuckin’ freezing though!’

  ‘We’ll have to ask around for old blankets, sleeping-bags.’

  ‘Sounds good.’

  ‘Stay out all night, eh?’

  ‘That’s right, all night.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘We’ll get a barbecue set up and . . . have a bit of a party.’

  ‘Can I ask Mum?’ Jude said.

  ‘You do that.’

  ‘I will. She’ll love it.’

  ‘And Katerina? You gunna stay?’ Katerina turned around and saw Vince smiling at her in his shrewd way, the unfashionable, badly fitted suit he’d donned for the funeral somehow making him look more handsome, more himself than ever. She was standing by the sink drying up dishes for an old lady who was talking as though she knew everything about her and her family.

  ‘Sure,’ Katerina said. ‘I’ll be there.’

  ‘Good,’ he nodded curtly and turned to ask someone else.

  So that’s what they did. Everyone seemed to want to let loose for a while. Katerina went with Vince and the twins to buy beer and wine. Jude, Eduardo and Carmel organised the meat. Everyone sat in the McCaffrey kitchen covering potatoes in silver foil and making salads. Then it was all heaped into a couple of boxes and thrown into the back of Vince’s ute. It was getting on for evening, so they all climbed in and burned down to the creek, where the boys had piled up all the dead trees and stumps.

  ‘Where’s your father, Vince?’ Juan asked.

  ‘He’s back up at the house. Tired out. His sister is with him.’ ‘That’s all right, then.’

  ‘Yeah, he’ll be all right.’

  The twins were running around the bonfire like maniacs, throwing on more logs, laughing, challenging anyone who’d take them on for a duel. They’d found so
me long dry sticks and had burnt the tips to a fiery red coal so they would look more dangerous. Vince told them to stop a couple of times, but they couldn’t help themselves. They loved the look of the luminous coal at the end of the stick, and ran around the circle of the fire, their sticks glowing behind them like comets. Through the dark they ran, coming back to the heat of the fire every now and again for a recharge.

  ‘Space Invaders!’ Shane yelled.

  ‘Power Rangers.’

  ‘Ya dork!’ Joe tripped over something in the dark and got up laughing, brandishing his magical sword at his brother.

  The food was cooked and eaten. Everyone was talking and laughing and stopping every now and again in the middle of it all to stare into the bright hot coals.

  Anton arrived after most of the food had been eaten. Everyone turned at the sound of his car, wondering who it was. He pulled up some distance away then got out and walked over to the fire, hesitating in the shadows of a tree before moving towards Katerina and Jude, who were sitting with Vince and the twins on the sidelines a little way from the others.

  ‘Hello,’ he said quietly. ‘Good fire. You can see it for miles.’

  He stood for only a moment, then slipped uneasily onto the edge of the bigger group lying about on the other side of the fire. Carmel’s back was turned to him. Whether she’d seen him arrive or not was anyone’s guess.

  ‘So,’ Jude whispered to Katerina. ‘He’s come.’ They’d both noticed him being ignored at the funeral. Not ignored exactly, just offered the polite smile that Carmel would give any stranger, before she turned away.

  ‘Have a beer, Anton.’ It was Juan calling out from where he was sitting with Eduardo and Cynthia.

  ‘Thanks.’ He moved over to take the can that was being handed to him. Carmel turned around sharply at the sound of his voice, but it was too dark for anyone to see her expression. One of the twins ran over to offer him a sausage in bread. Anton smiled and held up his hand to take it.

  ‘Okay, what’ll we sing?’ Declan shouted.

  ‘Someone sing something before Annie starts!’

  Everyone laughed as Annie swung around in mock outrage. ‘What are you all talking about?’ she barked back.

  ‘Pack up all your cares and woes!’ she began to wail, singing flat to annoy everyone. ‘Here I go, singing low, Bye, Bye, Blackbird!

  ‘Ah shit! Shut her up!’

  ‘Give us a break!’

  ‘Put a cork in it, Annie.’

  By about eleven the singing had begun in earnest. Jude had brought her guitar. Vince had his tin whistle and Eduardo had his three bamboo flutes. It went on and on. Everyone wanted to sing. It was past midnight as they stood by the wonderful roaring flames in little groups, singing as loudly as they could.

  Only once was there a call for Carmel to sing on her own. She was sitting next to Katerina and Vince, holding one of the twins, who’d fallen asleep in her arms. Katerina was holding the other one. ‘Okay,’ she said, smiling, and she sang a German folksong with no accompaniment.

  All’ mein’ Gedanken die ich hab’,

  die sind bei Dir.

  The magic in her rich voice stopped everyone for a few minutes, had them all listening, thinking of someone they’d loved. Perhaps of someone they’d lost. Anton didn’t look at her while she sang, he’d squatted down to help Vince lift in a heavy log. They threw it on together and then Anton parked himself at the edge of the group, elbows on his knees, his face lowered into his cupped hands, looking into the fire and listening.

  The hours flew by as their voices soared up into the darkness with the sparks and ash and smoke. The twins were piled into sleeping-bags and laid on the huge tarp. Bernie and his friend Simon tried to catch two horses who’d crept up quietly on the group to have a look at the fire. Someone went down to the creek and filled a billy with water for tea.

  Who would ever know what Carmel and Anton spoke about when they eventually ended up together, standing apart from everyone else, throwing bits and pieces of escaped twigs into the fire. But Katerina and Jude watched. They watched as their bodies moved towards each other in the glow of the red light, almost touching, but not quite, and wondered what was being said. How intensely they were talking! Carmel throwing her hands around wildly to make her points. Anton, serious, but smiling every now and again, jumping back from her as if pretending to be stung, then moving forward, closer in again. He seemed to be deeply interested in something she was saying.

  Jude and Eduardo were the last two left standing at about four in the morning. Two dark silhouettes sharing a bottle of something. From one to the other it passed, the low murmur of talking punctuated by high quick jabs of laughter. The rest were under blankets or sleeping-bags, still talking quietly. Katerina, lying on a tarp between the sleeping twins, was talking to Vince, who was a few metres away in his sleeping-bag.

  ‘So you’re going back up there again soon?’ Katerina asked. ‘Not for a while,’ Vince replied. ‘Want to hang around a bit for the old man and the boys . . .’

  A burst of raucous laughter came from the fire. Vince and Katerina sat up. Jude and Eduardo had their arms wrapped around each other, kissing. What did that mean? They stopped to laugh every now and again as if they were only play-acting.

  ‘She’s a wacker, that Jude,’ Vince said. Katerina smiled, slightly embarrassed for some reason she didn’t understand.

  ‘Yeah. She is.’

  Carmel thought she was the only one awake to see the dawn. She sat up, still in her sleeping-bag, and watched the beginning of a tinge of crimson light seep along the top of mountains in the distance. The air had become soft and close and a heavy cloud had almost completely blocked out the stars. She smelt the ash and the smoke on her clothes and took a couple of deep gulps of the morning air. Patches of dew shone like small pearls along the outside of her sleeping-bag. She’d only had perhaps an hour of real sleep, but it had renewed her, made her feel quite awake. Around her lay the sleeping bodies of the others. Jude’s mother Cynthia was next to her, a thick strand of hair half covering her lined white cheek. On the other side Juan was lying on his back, the grey ash in his thinning hair and eyebrows making him look like some ancient statue on a tomb. On the other side of the fire was Anton, lying somewhere near where they’d talked. Her brother Bernie was curled up like a wombat at her feet in his old brown blanket.

  Carmel looked around and felt a rush of deliverance descend, like soft light rain.

  There was a low whistle. Carmel turned. She could just make out Jude sitting up smiling at her on the other side of the still smouldering fire. Carmel grinned, waved back, and watched Jude get up and slowly pick her way towards her.

  ‘Let’s go for a walk,’ Jude whispered, pointing to the hill at the back of them.

  ‘What, now?’ Carmel asked, not really wanting to leave the warmth of her sleeping-bag. ‘But it might rain. Look at the clouds.’

  ‘But by the time we get to the top the sun will have risen properly. Even if it is raining, it’ll be fantastic.’

  ‘Okay. Let me get my shoes on. That hill is rocky.’

  They donned coats and boots and tiptoed past the other sleepers. As they headed down towards the creek, they saw Katerina coming back up with a kettle of water in her hand.

  ‘I couldn’t sleep,’ she said. ‘So I thought I’d get the fire going again and make some tea.’

  ‘Want to come with us?’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Up the hill.’

  ‘Oh, yes!’ Katerina’s eyes brightened and she put the kettle down.

  They had to follow the creek for a way before they found a spot that was narrow enough for them to cross. Laughing, Carmel and Katerina took a running leap, both of them managing to jump across. Jude was grim-faced at having been left on the other side.

  ‘What if I don’t make it?’ she called.

  ‘Come on, Jude. You suggested this.’

  ‘Courage, Jude!’

  ‘I never knew I was going to have t
o jump a river,’ Jude grumbled.

  The next minute she was flying towards them, her face contorted with the effort. A big jump but not big enough. She reached the opposite bank with one foot, but the other fell into the sloshy muddy water. The others let out a cry, caught her hands, and helped her scramble across.

  ‘Oh, shit.’ Jude made a face as she hopped around in her muddy boot. ‘Why the hell didn’t either of you bring a helicopter?’ The other two dissolved into laughter. Katerina collapsed onto her back and Carmel held her stomach as if she was in pain. Jude, grinning ruefully, sat down on the grass and fumbled with her laces.

  ‘Look!’ Carmel shrieked. Jude had taken off her boot, and it was full of mud. A fresh burst of hilarity erupted.

  Not one of them knew what they were laughing about. Jude wrung out her sock and put it on again. Then she cleaned out the muddy boot with a stick as best she could and put it on as well.

  ‘How does it feel, Jude?’

  ‘Oh, just fantastic,’ Jude said grimly, ‘what do you think?’

  They passed through a couple of barbed-wire fences, heading away from a herd of curious cattle, before they were finally free to begin their climb up the hill.

  It didn’t take long. It was mostly easy climbing over the wet grass. But the final hike to the top was steep and slippery. Little was said as they manoeuvred their way around thistles and boulders. Just a cry or a curse every now and again when someone’s footing slipped.

  ‘Are you right?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Watch out for that bit of moss there.’

  ‘Okay.’

  Once there, it was just as Jude had said it would be. Each of them roamed around by herself for a while, then they stood together by a large rock to watch the deep-red sun break through the clouds. Jude gave a sharp clap as it finally emerged, free and whole and round as a balloon.

  ‘Well done,’ she whispered. The others smiled. Streams of gold and pink light had spread out across the sky like bolts of precious silk.