By the time we finish talking, it’s so late I sleep over. Waking in this fabulous room, I feel like all my dreams have come true. In this vast bed I can admire the shadows dappling my windows, and the swimming pool sparkling outside. There’s a notebook and biro in one of the dresser drawers. Before diving into the shower I try to capture with only a few lines Laura and Robert eating dinner by their pool.
It’s hard catching Dad’s distinctive smile, but I get that lock of grey hair falling over his high forehead, the same forehead, short nose and wide lips I’ve inherited. My sketch of Laura comes out better. But even if these drawings aren’t all that accurate, Dessi will get an idea of what they look like. Sketching also helps sort out some of my emotions. I’m still confused as to how I feel…really feel about my dad. Do I still love him? Can I ever forgive him for walking out of my life and then hardly ever contacting me?
Memories flood in: of being carried on his shoulders; Sunday mornings in our local park and being pushed on the swing, the wind blowing hair into my face. Others are less pleasant; holding my hands over my ears to block out their angry voices; him leaving home and Julie falling in a heap; and since then Julie’s constant: ‘What a shit your father is’ and ‘No man can be trusted.’
It reminds me of the way Dessi and I argue about our current male interest. The major reason I didn’t have sex with Abdul is probably due to Dessi. Though I openly scoff at her puritanical attitude, I know she uses it to maintain her self respect. But whether you go half or the whole way with a guy… does it make any difference to what that guy feels about you? Would Danny have treated me better if I’d refused to have sex with him? Frankly, I doubt it. Besides, I’m secretly convinced that the only reason Dessi hangs onto her virginity is so she can boast about it. Is pashing on with a guy to the very, very edge all that different from going the whole way?
By the time I leave my room, Robert’s left for work. Laura offers me breakfast. I settle for coffee and ask, ‘Can I email my friend?’ I’m bursting to tell Dessi all my news.
‘Don’t forget to tell your friends about the cruise, will you,’ says Laura bustling away.
Robert is now captain of a deluxe cruiser. He sails people to Tipplers, a resort area on the Broadwater, a huge change from his old office job. He and Laura plan set up their own business. Presently Laura is taking ‘Food Handling’ and ‘First Aid’ courses. What was strongly hinted at last night is that there’s a job for me soon as this get off the ground.
I find my way around this new computer and then click into hotmail.
Hi Dessi.
I’ve got so much to tell you on MY OWN BRAND NEW LAPTOP! The house is fantastic! So-o-o unlike the dump me and Julie live in. And you’ll never guess, Dessi. They want me to live here. Truly. Last night Dad went on about how I could defer for a year…I don’t even know if I’ve got an offer yet…and work up here. Naturally, I’m going to say NO, because we have our own plans, don’t we? And there’s Abdul to be considered. But to be perfectly honest, Dessi, I’m so tempted.
Have you seen him, Dessi? Has he called you to explain why he didn’t take me to the airport? Or called in or anything? Don’t forget, I am relying on you to TELL ME EVERYTHING!
The unit we have at Broadbeach Towers is great, but get this! Sacha has moved in with us and is going to share my room. What do you reckon? What about farting noises in bed??? Gross, eh?
Kaz is fine, but turning out to be a bit of a control freak. Jodes is pathetic as usual. Got stoned our very first night. Wonder what they all got up to last night while I was here having D and M’s with Dad and Laura. By the way, she’s sort of OKAY, but don’t mention THAT to your mum or she might tell Julie and then she’ll get DEEPLY DEPRESSED and I just couldn’t stand it!
There’s so much I want to see up here. The usual stuff, but there’s also a twice a week market on Main Beach that’s supposed to be terrific. And the QI of course. If you get to levels 77 and 78 they say you can see almost all the way to New Zealand or Fiji.
Hope you’re healing fast. Keep an eye on Abdul for me. Keep BOTH eyes on him! And tell me EVERYTHING.
Love you.
WISH YOU WERE HERE!
Emma.
‘You’ve got my cell phone number, haven’t you?’ Laura says when she drops me off in front of our unit.
‘Sure. And…thanks, Laura.’
Laura gives me a big smile, waves and drives off, leaving me unsure as to how I now feel about her. Laura’s friendly, too friendly, almost as if she’s determined to force me to like her. But then some of her attitudes leave me uncomfortable.
‘Hey, everyone, I’m back,’ I say letting myself into the apartment.
Maria Carey is singing ‘Touch my skin’ through Kaz’s iPod. Its owner and Sacha are on the balcony just asking for a photo-shoot, they look so good.
‘Well, look who’s here,’ Kaz drawls. ‘Nice of you to drop by.’
Sacha sits up in one smooth movement and says reproachfully, ‘We were worried about you, Emma. Where were you?’
I scowl. ‘Thought we were all grown up.’
He looks hurt. ‘Sure. But we’re in a new place. Why not text?’
‘If you must know, I stayed at my dad’s.’
‘Still…’
‘Forget it, Sacha,’ Kaz chips in before Sash can continue. ‘How did you get on with him, Emma?’
I don’t want to talk about Robert or Laura, so I say, ‘What did you guys get up to last night?’
They look at each other and grin.
‘Went to Shooters and got rat-faced…’
‘Bodie and Jeff shouted us beers…’
‘…and Jon was chucked out,’ Sacha puts in. ‘He’s really skidding…’
This stops me short. ‘Tell me more,’ and this deflects any more questions. Perched on a ledge, I hear how Jon McKenna got into a fight and punched a security guy. Good stuff, I think. Report this to Dessi. ‘What’s with him?’ I ask.
The others just shrug.
‘Listen, you guys… Got anything planned for day after tomorrow because my dad’s offered to take us on a cruise up the Broadwater to South Stradbroke Island and Tipplers. Free, of course,’ I hasten to add.
Kaz’s eyes narrow. ‘Will there be lunch?’’
I nod.
‘So… Fine with me.’ Kaz sits back, a sharp-faced cat promised a bowl of cream.
I go off to the bathroom where I discover Sacha is meticulous about dividing the vanity unit. No soggy towels. In the bedroom his bed is neatly made up. No clothes left lying around. Still, we’re going to have to reach some agreement about sleeping arrangements. What’ll I do if he brings a boyfriend back? The idea makes me anxious. I don’t know how I’ll handle two guys having sex. I don’t think I’m homophobic. But how will I know until I’m really faced with it?
17. DESSI, Melbourne
Given my ignorance about Lebanon, the morning after going out with Abdul, I boot up the computer and read:
Batroun in the northern sector, is mentioned in the ancient Egyptian Tal-el-Amara tablets. In Greco-Roman days, it made a name for itself as a pirate lair. A walk through Batroun's twisting lanes in the old town and a visit to its architecturally eclectic cathedral are recommended for those who enjoy exploring the picturesque corners of old Lebanon…
A tiny envelope appears in the right hand corner. Emma. My stomach churns. She’ll want to know if Dessi’s spoken to Abdul. What should I say? I stares sightlessly out the window, half registering that the day promises to be a scorcher. The other half of my brain screams: What do I do now?
I read her email, read it through again, then hit the reply button:
Hi Emma J
Shit! I wish I was up there with you!!!!
That’s so great that you’ve caught up with your dad, and that he seems so enthusiastic for you to get along. About time someone spoilt you. Laura and the house and pool sound terrific. I just wish I was up there with you. Maybe next year?
It’s so boring do
wn here. Like all that’s happening today is Dad driving me to the physio, then calling into the supermarket and renting some DVD’s.
Abdul DID phone the day after you left. But he only wanted to know if you’d got off okay. He said something came up and he’d been too busy to take you to the airport. I said, ‘Why didn’t you call?’ so he said ‘I did, but couldn’t get through.’ He sounded really apologetic. Anyway, I didn’t know what to say, so I got off ASAP…
I’m desperate for something more to write, but my mind’s gone blank. I’m not used to lying. I admit to telling white lies: like when Jodie asks if her bum’s too big in a new outfit, or if Kaz needs a better hairdresser and can’t afford it. But I’ve never lied to Emma, certainly not about anything important. But what else can I do? If I tell her the truth, it’ll only mess up her holiday.
Her dad and Laura’s house sounds great, but what if Emma decides to stay on? I can’t imagine life without my closest friend. It’d be like losing half of me. But I certainly understand how she feels about living somewhere nice. As I glance around at makeshift wardrobes, chipped paint and a ten foot high scabby ceiling, it strikes me how much Hannah must hate this place. Our ‘proper’ house is only six years old and big enough to sleep seven. Right now Graham’s leased it to a South African family with three little boys. I hate it that strangers are sleeping in my room. When we return, will it still feel like mine? This old house is almost the same size, but with only one bathroom and no built in cupboards, it’s too much like Emma’s and Julie’s broken down weather-board. In an essay once titled ‘My Ideal House’, Emma wrote, ‘My bathroom will be lined in pink marble with gold taps and have its own sunken spa and bidet.’
I winced. ‘Pink marble? Gold taps? Gross!’
Thinking about Emma’s house reminds me that I still haven’t got around to finishing my email.
That’s about it. Nothing else to report. Give my love to the others. When will Jodie learn not to get stoned? What’s it like sharing a room with Sacha? Great at least that he’s neat. I can’t imagine what sharing with Jodie would be like, she’s such a slob.
Please, please keep writing,
I love you L Dessi.
Before I dare reconsider, I hit ‘send’. There. Done. But deep down I know that I’ll have to live with those lies and I’ve made a bargain with the devil. What if I told her the truth? Would that have ruined our friendship forever? What if I sent another email? Only an honest one. This is what I’d really like to say:
Emma, I think you should know that Abdul wants to stay friends with you, but he’s really interested in me. I hate that this is happening, because I’m terrified that it will come between us and ruin our friendship. Trouble is, I think I’ve fallen for him hook, line and sinker. Now I don’t know what to do. Please tell me it’s okay by you if I keep on seeing him…
But of course I don’t. I’ll go with the way things are. Surely Emma knows not to pine over a guy who only took her out once and then refused to drive her to the airport. Wouldn’t that hint he wasn’t serious? Didn’t Abdul say he just wanted to be her friend? Lots of great guys go north this time of year. With a bit of luck she’ll meet someone new. She’s used to changing her guys pretty quickly. A shame Sacha is gay as they are so fond of each other and have so much in common.
I’m writing ABDUL, ABDUL MALOUF, Mrs DESIREE MALOUF... on an unused envelope, when I hear voices in the kitchen. Graham and Nanna Pearl. I have one grandmother - my father’s mother. And one grandfather, my mother’s father. I love them both, but Nanna Pearl Cowan is by far my favourite. Nanna’s body might be old, but she’s wealthy enough to be able to travel widely and she intends seeing every bit of the world before she dies. Graham might joke about his mother’s escapades, but I love having a grandmother who considers visiting India as the only way to celebrate turning seventy-five. Lately Nanna’s become interested in Asian religions. Like, she’ll say, ‘I would rather be a Buddhist than anything else…’
I’ve no other relatives as my other grandparents died before I was born and my parents are only children. I suppose not having too many blood relatives is why Emma and I are so close…
Emma! I have to stop thinking about her. Does Abdul have other relatives in Australia? I know there’s been fighting in Northern Lebanon between religious factions all wanting to control the country and between Israel and Lebanon. Me being quarter Jewish and Abdul a Muslim, does that make us natural enemies? Would we even have met if we weren’t Aussies?
I hop into the kitchen to find Dad talking to Nanna Pearl. Her face lights up as she exclaims, ‘Darling! Feeling any better?’
‘I’m fine, Nanna. I‘m fine.’ I head towards a chair and place my damaged ankle on a stool. From the look on Graham’s face, I guess they’ve been talking money. Seems that I’m only half-right. It’s about Hannah and money. Nanna turns back to Graham and says, ‘Surely she doesn’t have to work such long hours.’
‘The bank expects it. If women want equal positions and salaries, they must work the same hours as male executives.’
Nanna Pearl shakes her head and gives up offering advice. Turning to me she says, ‘Darling, here’s a little something,’ and hands me a DVD.
‘Always spoiling you kids,’ is how Hannah describes Nanna. But I view Nanna Pearl as wonderfully generous, someone who never turns up without bringing us something. ‘Thanks.’ I read the title aloud, ‘Mr Blandings Builds His dream House.’
‘All about renovating. Seems appropriate, don’t you think?’’
‘Nanna, when did our family come to Australia?”
Nanna looks pleased. ‘Didn’t think you’d be interested. My great, great grandfather, Moses Cohen, came out in 1852 during the gold rush.’
‘Did he make his fortune?’
‘He made enough to marry well, have eight children, build several houses and give two daughters expensive weddings.’
‘What happened to the money?’
‘His grandsons lost most of it in the Depression. Rags to riches back to rags in three generations. Shame isn’t it?’
I grin. ‘Isn’t it?’ I remember the DVD. ‘Thanks. I’ll watch it when I get back from the physio.’
‘Physio!’ Graham springs to his feet. ‘Nearly forgot.’
‘How about I drive this girl?’ says Nanna.
Graham looks openly relieved. Pearl pushes herself away from the table and slowly stands up. ‘Growing old isn’t for wimps,’ she says. Everyone laughs. But I can’t imagine growing old. Right now, even my twenty-first seems a long way off. I’m following Nanna Pearl when my cell phone rings.
‘Hi, Dessi? Abdul.’
My heart flutters. ‘Hi.’
‘What are you up to?’
‘Not much. Off to the physio.’
‘How about I pick you up and we go for coffee?’
‘Great.’ I give him the address. But after, I keyboard:
Emma…
We’ve been as close
as the books you like to read
your voice on the phone
the way you brush your hair
the sweat stain under your arm.’
18. EMMA, Surfers
After sun-baking all afternoon on the balcony, us four return to the same beer garden we found the first night. I can’t help comparing Kaz and Jodie’s friendship with me and Dessi. I like the part of Kaz that looks after Jodie like a big sister while Jodie expects Kaz to take care of her if she gets into trouble. I see them as an emotional see-saw that only levels out because of their difference. Just like Hannah and Julie. Thankfully, the friendship I share with Dessi is far more equal, far more adult.
‘Gotta get some action,’ says Kaz gazing around with calculating eyes.
‘Well,’ says Jodie, ‘well if you got out of the unit, you might find there’s lots to do.’ Out all day, she came back looking secretive. Her plump face is swollen and red and she can’t stop squirming. ‘We should go to Seaworld tomorrow,’ she adds. ‘Then there’s Dreamworld…
’
Kaz snorts. ‘All kid-stuff. I’d rather spend my cash on more clubbing. Wouldn’t you, Emma, Sacha? All those clubs that need looking into…’
‘There is a club I’d like to check out,’ Sacha butts in.
Kaz’s eyebrows shoot up. ‘Which one?’
‘It’s…it’s a gay club,’ he says awkwardly.
‘Oooh, I don’t think I want to go to one of them,’ Jodie says. ‘Well, you can’t, can you? Unless you’re gay, I mean.’
‘I wasn’t asking you to come with me,’ he retorts. Right then Bodie and Jeff lope over to our table. I settle back to listen to their rave about waves and the best places to surf and promise myself to try capturing those huge green-blue waves carrying cappuccino crests in watercolour.
Next minute, Kaz is on her feet. ‘C’mon Jode. Emma? Sacha?’
‘Uh, where are we going?’ still wondering how to best capture those waves.
‘Driving down to Tweed,’ Jeff says smoothly. ‘Got a party on. Wanna come?’ He somehow manages to exclude Sacha. Angry for Sacha, I reach for his hand. ‘No. I don’t think so. We’re going somewhere else.’
‘All right then,’ Kaz snaps. ‘Let’s go Jodes. I’ve just spotted McKenna and his mates.’
Jeff moves closer. ‘Sure you don’t wanna come? We got plenty of gear.’
Sacha grips my hand even tighter. I say, ‘No, thanks,’ though the temptation is always there to lose myself in another space, what with Abdul letting me down, meeting Robert and Laura, and feeling so confused and angry...
Jeff takes off in a huff. Giggling and fooling around, the others follow.
Sacha waits for them to disappear. ‘Thanks, Emma,’ he says. ‘You’re a real mate.’
An hour later we’re back at the unit. While Sacha is in the bathroom I realise that I don’t mind sharing with a guy if the guy is Sacha. On his return, he’s wearing skinny black pants and a midnight blue satin shirt. ‘What do you think?’
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