‘I thought you guys had already left!’ Joyce appeared from around the corner. ‘Everything alright?’
Mark and Sylvia nodded. ‘Everything’s fine,’ they both said, and Mark got back into his car, turned on the engine, and drove away.
‘Can I give you a lift home, Sylvia?’ Joyce asked.
‘You know what? That’d be great.’ All energy had drained from her body and she wanted to get home, eat, and go to bed as soon as possible.
* * *
When Mark opened his front door, he stared for a moment at the picture of his wife on the wall, her eyes looking right at him as though she was really there. ‘Oh, Cindy…’ he ran a finger over her glossy, dark hair. ‘How am I supposed to move on?’ A slight trembling affected his chin and he looked away from the picture. He took a beer—usually only a once-a-week treat—from the fridge, and sat on the couch. He took a long gulp, and sighed.
Looking around the room he realised how much work was still to be done. He’d managed to hang pictures but still hadn’t unpacked the wine glasses, or the good dinnerware, or the books. Not to mention the other boxes that needed to be dealt with. The boxes with her things in them. Cindy’s whole life, reduced to a few boxes of material possessions. As long as he had them it was like she still existed. Mark’s brother had advised dealing with them before moving house, but he wasn’t ready. ‘I’ll deal with them once I’ve settled in,’ he’d replied. But he couldn’t find the energy or desire to sort through them. He’d come here for a fresh start, but had only managed to bring the past with him.
Half the beer gone, and noticing the sun fading outside his living room window, he thought back to that horrible afternoon. If only I hadn’t gone into work that day. She might still be alive. He took another gulp, swishing it around along with the memories.
Cindy had felt unwell for a day or so, and on that fateful Thursday morning he’d asked her if she was feeling any better. ‘Not really,’ she’d replied. ‘It’s just a bad flu. But you go off to work, I’ll probably be much better by the time you get home.’ She’d smiled weakly at him, and rolled over to face the bedside table where he’d left her phone, tissues, a water bottle, some food, and a liquid herbal medicine. ‘Okay, but you’ll let me know if you need me to come home or take you to the doctor?’ She’d nodded.
Cindy, a fitness instructor, had been a tough nut to crack. Always with the attitude of ‘I’ll be right’, she never complained, and rarely got sick. On the occasions she did she always bounced back quickly, so Mark expected nothing less this time. But when he tried calling her twice that afternoon there’d been no answer. On the third try she’d picked up, but he only heard a sound like the phone dropping. He’d rushed home without a second thought to find her half conscious with a blotchy rash on her body that hadn’t been there that morning. The dark colour of the rash didn’t disappear when he pressed on it, and he knew immediately what it was.
Knowing he’d get to the hospital faster by driving than if he’d waited for an ambulance, he lifted her into the backseat of the car and sped away, arriving at the emergency department five minutes later. She was taken through immediately, and the doctors didn’t wait for test results before starting treatment. As soon as they’d seen the rash and heard Mark relaying how quickly she’d gotten sick, they didn’t waste any time. But their efforts were in vain, as two hours later she was dead.
Mark downed the rest of the beer, then thumped the empty bottle onto the coffee table. Although it didn’t break, the loud sound shocked his eardrums, and he gasped for breath. He bit down on his lip, trying to stop the emotions of that day coming out, but they were too strong. Pain and grief spilled out of his eyes, though he tried to push them back with the heel of his hand. Sure, he’d cried when she died, and many times after, but then nothing for months. It was as though there’d been nothing left inside, like he’d dried out. But now, after opening that door to Sylvia, that door inside his heart that had been closed for so long, he’d remembered what it felt like to feel connected to someone. He’d felt the rush and the bliss, and then the ache, knowing that he’d never have that connection with his wife again. There was no guarantee that any woman could ever make him feel the way Cindy had made him feel. Being with Sylvia had given him a hint of hope, but also danger. There was no way he was prepared to fall for someone again and risk the pain of losing them. It was easier to keep that door to his heart closed.
Not at all hungry, Mark retreated to his bed, stripped off to his trunks and slid under the sheets. He looked at Cindy’s photo on his bedside table, the one of her on their wedding day. He filled his eyes with her beauty, before turning out the lamp, filling his eyes with darkness.
Chapter 20
‘I could sit here all afternoon and listen to you, Grace.’ William Randleman, the music teacher at Tarrin’s Bay High School, leaned back in his chair and threaded his fingers together over the back of his head. ‘Obviously, we’d be honoured to have you perform at the variety concert. You’ll be the highlight of the show!’ He removed his hands and wrote something on a piece of paper, shaking his head as though in disbelief.
‘Where did you find this prodigy, Sylvia?’
‘Oh, she just turned up on my doorstep one day,’ Sylvia replied, smiling. Mr Randleman laughed. Little did he know how true that statement was.
Warmth gushed from Grace’s face and permeated the air. She wasn’t used to being treated like a star or called a prodigy, but after Mr Randleman’s standing ovation on finishing her audition piece, well, she could get used to it! She just hoped she’d be able to conquer her nerves, performing in front of a few hundred people instead of only one.
‘Well then, if you could let me know by the end of April the name of the piece you’ll be performing on the night, that would be appreciated. And Sylvia, can I count on the clinic distributing some promotional flyers again this year?’ Mr Randleman asked.
‘Of course,’ Sylvia replied.
Grace picked up her bag and thanked Mr Randleman, then walked out of the school hall with Sylvia, past a line-up of aspiring performers. A girl in a leotard had one leg stretched up the wall in front of her, making Grace wince. She wondered how anyone’s body could physically do that. A teenage boy was practising a card trick, swearing when he dropped all the cards, revealing they were all the same. He quickly picked them up and shoved them into his pocket. And a woman who Grace thought she’d seen in the bookstore a couple of times stood by the wall, warming up her voice through a range of high and low notes. A variety concert indeed. Though she doubted the card trick boy would pass the audition. Poor bugger.
‘Told you there wouldn’t be a problem getting through,’ Sylvia said as they walked outside. ‘Looks like our shopping trip is on for tomorrow as planned.’
Grace smiled. ‘What colour dress should I wear to the concert?’
Sylvia pursed her lips to one side. ‘Definitely not black. You’d be camouflaged among the black of the piano and stage curtains.’
‘True, I hadn’t thought of that.’
‘Red could be good, or blue perhaps?’ Sylvia suggested.
‘Do you think pink would be too…I dunno, little girly?’ Grace asked.
Sylvia looked at her for a moment. ‘I’m sure I’ve seen lots of girls your age wearing pink. If you’re comfortable in pink, then pink it will be.’
‘On second thoughts, maybe not,’ Grace said, eyeing a young, feminine-looking man bouncing up the steps wearing a hot-pink shirt and yellow bow tie, carrying an instrument case.
Sylvia raised her eyebrows. ‘Looks like he didn’t have anyone trustworthy to take him shopping.’
Grace laughed, all nerves from before dropping away. ‘I hope you’re trustworthy.’ she looked cautiously at Sylvia.
‘Of course, I’m very good at clothes shopping.’
‘I hope so,’ Grace said with a tinge of sarcasm.
Sylvia stopped dead in her tracks and gave an exaggerated gesture at her clothing. ‘Would this SABA s
uit lie?’
They both laughed, and Grace knew she’d be in good hands with Sylvia. She always looked perfectly dressed and well-groomed. Not way out, but sensible and elegant. Although Grace hadn’t heard of SABA suits before.
‘Sorry I couldn’t drive us to the shopping centre,’ Sylvia said as they stepped off the bus the next morning.
‘No problem. Doesn’t worry me how I get somewhere, as long as I get there,’ Grace replied. ‘Oh, I forgot to thank you for leaving work early yesterday to take me to the audition.’
‘My pleasure. Any excuse for an early mark on a Friday! And any excuse to hear you play,’ Sylvia said. She seemed genuinely happy to be with Grace, but there was something in her eyes, something in her expression that Grace couldn’t read. Like there was something on her mind that wouldn’t budge. Probably nothing, she is a doctor after all, so maybe she just had a difficult week with patients.
‘Well, thanks. So, which shops do you recommend in here?’ Grace asked as they walked into the shopping centre, hit with a cool blast from the air conditioning. ‘Do you think Target would have anything decent?’
Sylvia looked at Grace as though she’d asked if they should eat their lunch off the footpath. ‘We won’t be going to Target, Grace. Come this way…’
She led Grace to a boutique hidden between a homewares shop and a mobile phone outlet. Not the sort of place Grace would think to look; it seemed a little old for her taste. Sylvia’s eyes scanned the store, and within seconds she’d lifted three dresses from the rack.
‘What do you think?’ she asked.
She’d chosen well, but Grace wasn’t sure about one of them. ‘They’re nice, I’ll go try them on.’ A sales assistant carried them into the fancy change room, and closed the curtain behind Grace. The first dress she tried was a bright blue halter neck. It was a little loose around the bust, but made Grace feel like she was twenty-five. The second was a rich red colour, with one shoulder strap that travelled diagonally across the front of the dress. And the third was pink, but Grace wasn’t sure about the ruffles at the front. Too frilly.
‘Wow.’ Sylvia’s mouth gaped open along with the curtain.
It actually looked fantastic. Somehow the ruffles spread out once the dress was on, and really flattered her petite figure. ‘I like it,’ Grace said, turning side to side in front of the mirror.
‘It’s made for you,’ Sylvia said. ‘But if you like, we’ll look around at some other stores just in case.’
‘I’m happy to go with this one.’ Grace smiled, waiting for Sylvia’s agreement as she had offered to pay for it, and closed the curtain to get back into her white cheesecloth skirt and lime green singlet.
When Sylvia got her purse out to pay at the counter, Grace saw it. Another dress. A perfect dress. Even better than the pink ruffle one. ‘Um…’ she started. ‘Sylvia?’
‘Yes?’
Grace pointed feebly in the direction of the other dress, an amazing satin creation with varying shades of purple and silver. Strapless, the dress itself looked like an embrace, wrapping from the back around to the front and crossing over in the middle.
Thankfully, Sylvia didn’t seem disappointed. In fact, she seemed in awe of it as well. ‘How did I miss that?’ she asked, moving towards the dress like a moth to a flame. ‘This is exquisite,’ she said, lifting the dress off the rack and turning it over in her hands.
Grace stepped closer, and her heart sank to her stomach. It was double the price of the pink dress.
Sylvia didn’t seem to notice. ‘Try it on Grace. If you like it more than the pink dress, then we’ll get it.’
‘But…’ Grace gestured surreptitiously towards the price tag.
‘It’s twice as much, so what?’ Sylvia led Grace back to the change room, the sales assistant’s face lighting up, probably in anticipation of her commission. ‘Grace, I want you to wear the dress you like the best. If this is it, then this is it.’
This was it.
Grace didn’t want to take it off. When she closed the curtain after showing it off to Sylvia and the sales assistant, she stood for a few moments, looking at herself in the mirror. Bloody awesome! She wished Jonah could see her now. Maybe he’d come to the concert, she could ask him tonight. After meeting his friends at Café Lagoon last Saturday night, Jonah had asked Grace if she would like to join them all at the annual Youth Festival in Miracle Park tonight. In Tarrin’s Bay, there seemed to be a festival or some kind of event on almost every weekend. She couldn’t wait to see him. Although it wasn’t like a date; his friends would be there, but surely he wouldn’t have asked her if he didn’t like her in some way.
‘Your daughter looks beautiful,’ Grace heard the sales assistant say outside the change room. There was a brief pause and then a soft, ‘Yes, she does,’ from Sylvia. Grace wished she could have seen Sylvia’s expression at Grace being called her daughter. It must be weird for her. Hell, it was weird for Grace too.
Grace took the dress off, changed quickly, and went straight to the counter before any rival teenager could grab it from her. There was only one in her size. She was so glad she’d noticed it before Sylvia paid for the pink dress, nice as it was.
‘Half an hour and we’re done, can you believe it?’ Grace said as they walked from the shop, boutique bag in her hand.
‘Told you I was a good shopper. Although it was you who found the dress. Maybe you didn’t need me after all.’ Sylvia chuckled.
‘Are you kidding? I would never have gone into that shop if you hadn’t brought me to it.’ Oops, Grace hoped that didn’t offend Sylvia. ‘I mean, I usually go to the cheapest shops first,’ she corrected.
‘Then let’s say it was a joint effort,’ Sylvia said.
Grace nodded. ‘So, where to now?’
‘You’ll need some jewellery to go with the dress, and a nice pair of heels.’
Wow. Grace hadn’t thought beyond the dress. Shopping for fancy clothes without paying a cent, followed by a fun night ahead with a cute guy—this was every eighteen-year-old girl’s idea of the perfect day!
Chapter 21
Grace was almost at the Wishing Fountain, the obviously popular meeting spot in Tarrin’s Bay, when she received a text message.
Soooo sorry Grace but I have 2 stay at work till about 9pm, 1 of the staff went home sick. U can still meet the others as planned. If u want to hang around, meet me at cafe at 9. Jonah.
Oh, crap. Should she go back to the caravan, or meet Jonah’s friends? She barely knew them, and didn’t want to tag along like the odd one out. But if she didn’t meet them, they’d know she was only coming to see Jonah. How desperate would that look? She continued walking and came to the fountain.
They were already there. Everyone smiled to greet her.
‘Hey Grace,’ Susie said, her arm around Josh. There was also another girl, Lauren, and two other guys, Chris, and, oh what was the other dude’s name? Something difficult to pronounce. It was on the tip of her tongue.
‘Did you get Jonah’s message?’ Josh asked, eyebrows raised.
‘Yeah, just then,’ Grace replied, holding up her phone.
‘The bugger’s always standing us up,’ Josh said.
‘I don’t blame him wanting to rack up some extra bucks, he needs as much as he can get,’ the nameless guy said.
‘Jianyu,’ Lauren whispered, nudging him discreetly in the ribs.
Jianyu! That was his name. She repeated it in her mind a few times to imprint the memory. Anyway, what was that nudging about? So what if Jonah needed money? Probably spends his income on the finer things in life. For a moment Grace imagined Jonah taking her out to dinner at a fancy restaurant, candlelight warming his face, their hands entwined on the table…
‘Let’s grab some burgers,’ Josh said, leading the group towards a stall set up in the park. They all walked together, three girls and three guys, and strangely Grace was reminded of The Brady Bunch. When she was younger she loved watching the reruns on TV, total ‘comfort television’.<
br />
Steam rose from the hamburger stall, and strong smells of onions, beef, and tomato sauce had Grace salivating. Mark Bastian wouldn’t approve, but she wasn’t about to tout her health plan in front of Jonah’s friends. She held up her phone and took a photo of the festival while there was still some light.
They wandered around the park, hamburgers filling their mouths, live music filling their ears as it emanated from the stage. It was an alcohol-free event, and people wearing glow-bands around their wrists handed out brochures on the dangers of alcohol and drugs. Grace didn’t need one, she wasn’t stupid. Unlike some of the kids at school last year who drank themselves silly after the HSC, a couple of her friends included. All Grace wanted to do when it was over was go home, throw all her books out, and sleep for a week. All that effort, and she still didn’t know what to do with her life. That was what this year was about—finding out where she came from and where to go from here. After yesterday’s audition she had a twinge of hope that maybe she could pursue a music career, but in reality, it would probably be really hard to make a living from playing the piano. If she could sing, well that would be another matter, but not that many people became famous pianists.
When they all finished eating, they tried out a few of the novelty games, like trying to throw a toy frog on a floating lily pad. Grace’s frog kept landing on the edge, pushing the lily pad away and floating off with the other reject frogs. Three bucks down the drain. Lauren managed to get her last frog on a lily pad, winning a plastic toy bird who tweeted incessantly when you threw it up in the air.
‘Here, you have it,’ Lauren said, handing the creature to Grace.
Gee. Thanks. ‘Aww, that’s nice of you,’ Grace replied, taking the bird. She bet if Jonah were here he would have got all three frogs to land on the lily pad, winning her one of the giant fluffy toys which would take up half her caravan.
As the late summer sun went down and was replaced by a moonlit sky, they lined up for the dodgem cars. They were clearly the most popular attraction, the crowd growing larger by the minute. Grace and Lauren took the last two dodgem cars, while the others had to wait for the next session. Grace enjoyed bumping and dodging the other cars, her head bobbing this way and that, despite the insistent ramming from behind by a creepy looking guy in a black singlet and beanie. Whenever she tried to go around him he’d cut her off, sniggering to himself. Idiot.
The January Wish Page 13