White Lady

by Bell, Jessica

  “No, actually. Do you want the money or not?”

  Kimi turns her head and looks towards the road. The neighbourhood is quiet this afternoon. Kimi wipes her eyes really quickly with the heels of her hands.

  “How much are we talking?” she says.

  “Fifty grand. Half today, half after the job is done.”

  “Jesus Christ, fifty grand?” Kimi speaks way too loudly, but then drops her volume midsentence.

  I nod.

  “Sign me up. What do I have to do?” Kimi takes a deep shaky breath.

  “Mrs. Shâd has organized an afterschool “maths tutorial” for you. Meet her in the Maths and Sciences Wing, room A5 at 3:30. She’ll give you the 25k—cash—and tell you what needs to be done.”

  Kimi smiles as if she’s just inhaled laughing gas, but it disappears just as fast.

  “I’m not killing anyone.”

  I laugh. “It’s a lot tamer than that.” I shock myself at how calm I am while saying all of this. But the good thing is, it will all be over really soon, and life can go back to normal. Dad and Sonia don’t have to be scared of Ibrahim anymore, and me and Mick don’t have to worry about our parents ending up dead.

  She stares at me. Her eyes glisten. “Is this all some ploy to get rid of me?”

  “Of course not. Why would I want to get rid of you?”

  “I dunno. Everybody wants to get rid of me.” Kimi bursts into tears.

  I should have known she was insecure. Just like Mick, it’s all show. That toughness, that withdrawal from society—well, if you can call the students at school a society. I guess it is kinda.

  “This will really help you,” I say. “You can start a new life. Be anyone and anything you like. It’s a chance to be a good person. Do things right this time.”

  Kimi wails and falls into my arms. I hug her tight, and she shakes up and down in my embrace. Her tears smear against my cheek. They’re warm and somehow remind me of the day my mum left. I cried for so long in Dad’s lap that I gave myself a headache. My mascara stained his jeans. When I apologized for making such a mess of them, he stroked my hair and said, “You can cry on me as much as you like, and your tears will never stain me.” I didn’t get it then. But I think I do now. I think he meant that no matter what happens, he will always love me.

  Kimi doesn’t have anyone in her life to love her.

  My dislike for her turns to pity. And I can only wish this deal with Sonia does actually do her some good. But for some reason, seeing her like this, sitting here, witnessing her cry for the first time, in this silent football field where my dad and Ibrahim once kicked for the same team, I’m suddenly worried.

  About Kimi, about Sonia, about Dad.

  About Mick.

  I swallow. And say something that makes the hairs on my arms stand on end.

  “Trust me,” I say as I stroke Kimi’s hair. “Everything is gonna turn out for the best.”

  Chapter 50

  Sonia: Kimiko is a go-go.

  I sit at the back of the classroom with Mick’s schoolbag—stuffed with twenty-five thousand dollars—between my legs. The home time bell rang fifteen minutes ago, but feet are still shuffling in through the corridor. I panic that I should have made the meeting later in case someone accidentally walked in.

  I scan the room for a hiding place to put the bag until Kimiko arrives, but someone knocks on the door before I find one. My heart rate increases, and I’m shocked at the adrenaline rush. I used to be so calm in situations like this.

  I leave the bag on the seat and walk to the door. My eyes are drawn to the needle of a compass on the teacher’s desk as I walk by, and I envision stabbing it in someone’s face to simply watch the blood run to the edge of their jaw, hang momentarily in a teardrop curve before hitting the victim’s silky breast.

  I peer through the blinds on the classroom door to check it’s Kimiko. It is. I open it and hold my hand out to shake. She looks at my hand as though it might contaminate her with Ebola, then slips inside without touching me.

  “So you’re the one who broke Daddy’s heart,” she says in a tone not suited to a girl her age, then sits on the teacher’s desk with her knees spread.

  “Firstly,” I say, gently pushing her knees together, “he is not a poor man. And secondly, I didn’t break his heart.” I wonder why I feel the need to respond to her naive interrogation—I don’t owe the girl a thing. But she’s biting the inside of her bottom lip. She’s clearly trying to act tough and impress me, and so I have a deep desire to set her straight. “Ibrahim’s heart is unbreakable. It’s made of Gorilla Glass.” I smirk within while keeping my facial expression unchanged.

  Kimiko’s eyebrows move closer together. “Really?”

  I laugh. “No. Of course not.”

  “Oh.” She smiles a crooked smile and holds out her hand. It seems the joke did the trick. I like her. We shake hands.

  “So … Mia says you wanna pay me fifty grand to help nab Gorilla man.”

  I smile at her attempt to continue the joke. It’s a terrible attempt, but it’s certainly a good sign. If she is so easily social, the probability of her being successful with the job is high.

  “That’s the gist of it, yes,” I say.

  “Cool. What do I have to do?”

  “Well—”

  “Wait. She also said you’d gimme half up front.”

  I raise my eyebrows.

  “I wanna see it.”

  I’m surprised at her impatience. Impatience could be a problem. On the other hand, it could also mean she knows what she’s doing and would be hard to fool. I decide to assume the latter.

  “Good call,” I say. I walk to the back of the classroom and fetch the bag. I drop it in Kimiko’s lap.

  She sniffs it and frowns. “It smells like Mick.”

  I purse my lips. “Is that going to be a problem for you?”

  Kimiko shrugs. “I was expecting a briefcase or something.”

  “This isn’t a movie, Kimiko. If a girl like you was walking around with a briefcase, it would look suspicious.” Perhaps I should take my last thought back.

  “Oh yeah, I guess. I just thought … anyway, doesn’t matter.” She unzips the bag, peers inside, and grins. “Okay, shoot.”

  “Let’s sit at the back.”

  “Why?”

  I glare at her, hoping the look alone is enough explanation, otherwise I might have to reevaluate the girl’s abilities.

  “Okay.” She jumps off the desk and walks to the back of the room as though she is rehearsing for a catwalk.

  “There’s a little blue notebook inside the bag. Pull it out.”

  She does, and she holds it in the air as though to ask if it’s the correct one. Of course it’s the correct one. There is nothing inside the bag but money and one notebook. My stomach tightens at the thought of her idiocy. I grit my teeth and tame the urge to call the whole thing off.

  “Open it,” I say with a nod. “Inside is a map of your route, and pickup and drop-off points from where you live. Step-by-step instructions are written in there too. You can’t go wrong. Read them now so I can be sure you understand it all. If you wish to ask any questions, you may ask them before you leave the classroom.”

  Kimiko nods and opens the book. Her expression changes from exhilaration, to surprise, to confusion, to comprehension, and last of all to worry as she reads the last instruction.

  “What if he doesn’t do what you say he’s going to do?”

  “Ibrahim is ninety-nine percent predictable to me.”

  “But what if he’s not.”

  “Mick will be following you. If anything happens that is unforeseen, Mick will step in and introduce a distraction. Ibrahim will not hurt his son.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  My throat tightens. “Do you want the money or not? Then stop being nosy and do what you’re told.”

  Kimiko smacks her lips. “Sure, not problem. I— I got this.”

  “Good. Do you need anything else?�
�

  “Nope, I’m cool.” Kimiko smiles, drops the notebook in the bag, and zips it closed. “Can I go?”

  I nod and reposition a pin in my hair. I watch as she walks out.

  Her hair is so black and her skin is so pale and smooth.

  She would look brilliant in red.

  Chapter 51

  Nash: Mad for marriage on a Friday night.

  Mia is sitting on the couch entranced by a blank TV screen, clutching her mobile phone in her hand.

  “Whatcha doin’?” I say. “Admiring your reflection?” I regret the comment as soon as it comes out of my mouth, but it doesn’t seem to faze her. “Come on, mate, get into gear; we gotta go.”

  Mia snaps out of her trance and looks up. “Huh?”

  “I wanna get a move on.”

  “To where?”

  “To Sonia’s?”

  It could be my imagination, or the eerie orange twilight, but it looks as if Mia has jaundice. For a moment I’m taken aback by her appearance, but then she shifts her head and the light falls over it differently, and she looks normal again.

  “To Sonia’s? What the fuck for?” Mia says. She’s swearing an awful lot lately. Mick’s influence?

  I glare at her. Our eyes lock. She doesn’t even flinch. There’s no reason for her to be behaving like this towards me. What did I do? I thought everything was okay between us again. Especially after dinner the other night. Is this some sort of drug withdrawal? I’ve heard of mood swings, but this looks like some form of paranoia with her knee jumping up and down like that.

  “I told you. I want to surprise her.” I pull a tiny crimson velvet box out of my pocket and hold it out for Mia to see. It rests in my palm like a little furry animal.

  “Oh my God, Dad! Now? What happened to going away this weekend? Why aren’t we going anywhere?” Mia’s tone shifts from furious to enticingly calm. “It could be fun, you know.”

  Something isn’t right. How did she know about Sonia’s idea to go away? I put the box back in my pocket and scratch my beard. “Who told you that?”

  Mia rolls her eyes like she does when she’s been caught out. But she also has a talent to make it look like the other person’s mistake.

  “You, probably,” she says, shrugging. Of course that would be her answer.

  Let it be?

  Not this time.

  Christ, I’m so fed up with her mood swings. Sure, she’s a teenager. But she also just inflicted herself with two weeks of brain-altering drugs. I need to put my foot down. I need to tell her to get a grip, otherwise things aren’t going to be so bloody easy around here anymore.

  “I didn’t tell you, mate,” I say with a clear firmness in my voice. “Are you listening in on my private phone conversations again? Because I’ve gotta say, I thought you’d grown out of that.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “I’ll tell you who’s being ridiculous, mate. You. Snap out of this shit and act like a supportive loving daughter for once? I do so much for you and you take it all for granted. Just once. I need you to be here for me. Come with me, so that I can bloody propose, before your mother—” I cut myself off and feign a cough.

  Mia stands up and walks towards me. She seems oblivious to the mention of her mother. Good. I s’pose her mood swings are good for something.

  She touches my shoulder, a little awkwardly, but at least it’s an attempt at some affection. “I know Mum is gonna be in town soon, and you’re anxious about it. I’m really sorry I don’t acknowledge that it’s going to be hard for you to see her again. I’m sorry I’ve been so fucked up. But asking Sonia to marry you isn’t going to stop whatever it is you’re afraid is going to happen when you see Mum.”

  So she wasn’t oblivious, just totally and utterly mature and logical. Bloody oath. If only that was my problem, then I would probably take her advice. I nod and scratch my beard.

  If only Mia knew the extent of it.

  “What exactly are you afraid of, Dad? That you still have feelings for her?”

  I look up and clench my jaw. Mia steps back and crosses her arms. She seems impatient. What exactly does she think she is going to achieve by keeping me here? Does she not approve of the partnership? If not, why can’t she just come out and say it? And why didn’t she say anything earlier?

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Then why don’t we chill out here tonight. I dunno, screw my diet—we can order pizza and drink beer like old times. The Footy Show is on tonight. We can watch that. Then you can tell me what’s on your mind.”

  This is blatant manipulation. She sounds like Celeste.

  “My feelings are not for your ears, mate. Trust me,” I say.

  “Jesus Christ, Dad, I’m not two.”

  I groan. What has got into her? How has she managed to make me feel like the child here?

  “I don’t want to fight with you. It’s private. Respect that, please?”

  Mia shrugs and looks at the floor.

  “Good. Now we’re going to Sonia’s.”

  Mia stamps her foot and screams, “I don’t want to go to Sonia’s.”

  “If you’re not two, then why are you having a two-year-old tantrum?” I yell so hard the corners of my mouth burn.

  “Because—Because I think—”

  I walk towards the front door. “Fuck this. I’ll go on my own.”

  “Wait!” Mia grabs her mobile phone, bolts to the front door, and stands against it. “Just—just wait a second.”

  I shift the weight between my feet and huff and puff overenthusiastically. Mia taps off a message, remaining between me and the door. She then stares at the phone until she gets the ding of her delivery report.

  “You done?” I say, craning my neck. “I’d like to be in a good mood for my future wife.”

  Mia sighs, spins around, and opens the door.

  “Fine. I’m coming with you.”

  Chapter 52

  Celeste: It’s party time.

  I park a couple of doors down from my old house—the smile on my face so wide that my lips feel like stretched labia in the midst of giving birth.

  I never called to arrange it, like I said I would, but what the hell. What the hell! It’s a surprise visit. Who doesn’t like surprise visits? Everybody likes surprise visits! Surprise!Then everyone laughs and hugs and clinks champagne glasses, and chats all night long reminiscing about the past and getting excited about the future. Aw!

  I’m going to traipse in, cook dinner for them all with whatever ingredients they have in the fridge—surely Mia will enjoy something other than a meat pie and tomato sauce for a change—and then take Nash aside once Mia has gone to bed like the good little girl she always is—satisfied and joyful, of course—and tell him that if he takes me back, I will never— never ever!—tell Mia about him not being her father. Ha!

  I can hardly believe he fell for it. He fell for it! He’s as gullible as they come. That’s right. Gullible as gullible comes. I knew I could play him like Play-Doh.

  But—and here’s the catch—if he doesn’t take me back, he’s going to be making a colossal mistake, because I won’t hesitate to pull my Ruger SP101 out of my purse and subject them both to suicide.

  One quick gunshot to my temple.

  Over and out.

  What’ve I got to live for anyway if I can’t get my old life back?

  Nothing. Nothing at all. Nothing at all!

  I smile, wink at my purse, and jiggle in my seat.

  This is perfect. Perfect!

  Nash loves Mia more than the footy—of course he’s going to choose the only way to avoid hurting her. And what a kind offer, really, offering to put a family back together again. Yes! I should be awarded mother of the year. I should, I should!

  I turn off the ignition, and Nash and Mia step outside the house.

  No! This is not the way it’s supposed to go!

  For a second I contemplate saving it for tomorrow. But stuff it. I’m all geared up for a good night out
. Stuff it stuff it—stuff the chicken with weed.

  I swallow another Xanax, my fifth today—and I’m still standing!—and wash it down with a swig of vodka from my tiny gold flask.

  Stupid doctor. I do not have a paradoxical reaction to sedatives, thank you very much. “What utter bollocks,” I say to myself in a bad British accent. “I’m just a jolly old lass!”

  I drop the flask back into my bag. It lands on my handgun and clunks like a plastic bullet hitting a metal target.

  I wait for Nash and Mia to turn the corner at the end of the block before starting the car again. Wherever they are headed, I am headed too.

  It’s time to get the party started.

  As I pull away from the curb, my vision becomes a little blurred, and I misjudge the distance between the front bumper and someone’s street bin. It tumbles over with a crash. A light turns on in a window. Curtains flutter. A set of eyes peek through a slit in the blinds.

  I giggle and back up, correct the steering wheel, and tail Nash and Mia from a safe distance.

  Tonight is going to be special. Special!

  Tonight will, in fact, be the best night of my life.

  Chapter 53

  Mia: Gotta love ya and leave ya.

  When Sonia answers the door, all the feeling drains from my face. My stomach sinks in sync. Sonia is wearing a vintage wedding dress and dolled up with bright-red lipstick.

  I open my mouth to try to apologize for not being able to keep Dad away, but I can’t stop staring.

  Dad’s facial expression becomes very sad. He lifts his arm to balance himself against the door frame. With his other hand he reaches towards Sonia and brushes a thick floppy lock of hair from her eyes. I look at him with my mouth agape. Why isn’t he reacting to the dress? Did she know he was coming over to propose? I don’t get it. Did the big Ibrahim catch already go down?

  Sonia opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. She moves Dad’s hand away from her face instead.

  “You can’t be here,” she says.